altitude； the thought…pistol went off in Dick Hallorann's head again。 His
shoulders hunched uselessly against the smell of oranges and then jerked
spasmodically。 His forehead wrinkled； his mouth drew down in a grimace of pain。
（！！！ DICK PLEASE E QUICK WE'RE IN BAD
TROUBLE DICK WE NEED）
And that was all。 It was suddenly gone。 No fading out this time。 The
munication had been chopped off cleanly； as if with a knife。 It scared him。
His hands； still clutching the seat rests； had gone almost white。 His mouth was
dry。 Something had happened to the boy。 He was sure of it。 If anyone had hurt
that little child —
〃Do you always react so violently to takeoffs？〃
He looked around。 It was the woman in the horn…rimmed glasses。
〃It wasn't that；〃 Hallorann said。 〃I've got a steel plate in my head。 From
Korea。 Every now and then it gives me a twinge。 Vibrates； don't you know。
Scrambles the signal。〃
〃Is that so？〃
〃Yes； ma'am。〃
〃It is the line soldier who ultimately pays for any foreign intervention；〃 the
sharp…faced woman said grimly。
〃Is that so？〃
〃It is。 This country must swear off its dirty little wars。 The CIA has been at
the root of every dirty little war America has fought in this century。 The CIA
and dollar diplomacy。〃
She opened her book and began to read。 The No SMOKING sign went off。 Hallorann
watched the receding land and wondered if the boy was all right。 He had
developed an affectionate feeling for that boy； although his folks hadn't seemed
all that much。
He hoped to God they were watching out for Danny。
》
DRINKS ON THE HOUSE
Jack stood in the dining room just outside the batwing doors leading into the
Colorado Lounge； his head cocked； listening。 He was smiling faintly。
Around him； he could hear the Overlook Hotel ing to life。
It was hard to say just how he knew； but he guessed it wasn't greatly
different from the perceptions Danny had from time to time 。。。 like father；
like son。 Wasn't that how it was popularly expressed？
It wasn't a perception of sight or sound； although it was very near to those
things； separated from those senses by the filmiest of perceptual curtains。 It
was as if another Overlook now lay scant inches beyond this one； separated from
the real world （if there is such a thing as a 〃real world；〃 Jack thought） but
gradually ing into balance with it。 He was reminded of the 3…D movies he'd
seen as a kid。 If you looked at the screen without the special glasses； you saw
a double image — the sort of thing he was feeling now。 But when you put the
glasses on； it made sense。
All the hotel's eras were together now； all but this current one； the Torrance
Era。 And this would be together with the rest very soon now。 That was good。 That
was very good。
He could almost hear the self…important ding！ding！ of the silver…plated bell
on the registration desk； summoning bellboys to the front as men in the
fashionable flannels of the 1920s checked in and men in fashionable 1940s
double…breasted pinstripes checked out。 There would be three nuns sitting in
front of the fireplace as they waited for the check…out line to thin； and
standing behind them； nattily dressed with diamond stickpins holding their blue…
and…white…figured ties； Charles Grondin and Vito Gienelli discussed profit and
loss； life and death。 There were a dozen trucks in the loading bays out back；
some laid one over the other like bad time exposures。 In the east…wing ballroom；
a dozen different business conventions were going on at the same time within
temporal centimeters of each other。 There was a costume ball going on。 There
were soirees； wedding receptions； birthday and anniversary parties。 Men talking
about Neville Chamberlain and the Archduke of Austria。 Music。 Laughter。
Drunkenness。 Hysteria。 Little love； not here； but a steady undercurrent of
sensuousness。 And he could almost hear all of them together； drifting through
the hotel and making a graceful cacophony。 In the dining room where he stood；
breakfast； lunch； and dinner for seventy years were all being served
simultaneously just behind him。 He could almost 。。。 no； strike the almost。 He
could hear them； faintly as yet； but clearly — the way one can hear thunder miles
off on a hot summer's day。 He could hear all of them； the beautiful strangers。
He was being aware of them as they must have been aware of him from the very
start。
All the rooms of the Overlook were occupied this morning。
A full house。
And beyond the batwings； a low murmur of conversation drifted and swirled like
lazy cigarette smoke。 More sophisticated； more private。 Low； throaty female
laughter； the kind that seems to vibrate in a fairy ring around the viscera and
the genitals。 The sound of a cash register； its window softly lighted in the
warm halfdark； ringing up the price of a gin rickey； a Manhattan； a depression
bomber； a sloe gin fizz； a zombie。 The jukebox； pouring out its drinkers'
melodies； each one overlapping the other in time。
He pushed the batwings open and stepped through
〃Hello； boys；〃 Jack Torrance said softly。 〃I've been away but now I'm back。〃
〃Good evening； Mr。 Torrance；〃 Lloyd said； genuinely pleased。 〃It's good to see
you。〃
〃It's good to be back； Lloyd；〃 he said gravely； and hooked his leg over a
stool between a man in a sharp blue suit and a bleary…eyed woman in a black
dress who was peering into the depths of a singapore sling。
〃What will it be； Mr。 Torrance？〃
〃Martini；〃 he said with great pleasure。 He looked at the backbar with its rows
of dimly gleaming bottles； capped with their silver siphons。 Jim Beam。 Wild
Turkey。 Gilby's。 Sharrod's Private Label。 Toro。 Seagram's。 And home again。
〃One large martian； if you please；〃 he said。 〃They've landed somewhere in the
world； Lloyd。〃 He took his wallet out and laid a twenty carefully on the bar。
As Lloyd made his drink； Jack looked over his shoulder。 Every booth was
occupied。 Some of the occupants were dressed in costumes 。。。 a woman in gauzy
harem pants and a rhinestone…sparkled brassiere； a man with a foxhead rising
slyly out of his evening dress； a man in a silvery dog outfit who was tickling
the nose of a woman in a sarong with the puff on the end of his long tail； to
the general amusement of all。
〃No charge to you； Mr。 Torrance；〃 Lloyd said； putting the drink down on Jack's
twenty。 〃Your money is no good here。 Orders from the manager。〃
〃Manager？〃
A faint unease came over him； nevertheless he picked up the martini glass and
swirled it； watching the olive at the bottom bob slightly in the drink's chilly
depths。
〃Of course。 The manager。〃 Lloyd's smile broadened； but his eyes were socketed
in shadow and his skin was horribly white； like the skin of a corpse。 〃Later he
expects to see to your son's well…being himself。 He is very interested in your
son。 Danny is a talented boy。〃
The juniper fumes of the gin were pleasantly maddening； but they also seemed
to be blurring his reason。 Danny？ What was all of this