originally conceived had too； but as he had begun Act V； it had e more and
more strongly to him that Gary was using the word satirically； outwardly
straight…faced while the Gary Benson inside was mugging and leering at Denker。
Denker； who had never had any of the things Gary had。 Denker； who had had to
work all his life just to bee head of a single little school。 Who was now
faced with ruin over this handsome； innocent…seeming rich boy who had cheated on
his Final position and had then cunningly covered his tracks。 Jack had seen
Denker the teacher as not much different from the strutting South American
little Caesars in their banana kingdoms； standing dissidents up against the wall
of the handiest squash or handball court； a super…zealot in a paratively
small puddle； a man whose every whim bees a crusade。 In the beginning he had
wanted to use his play as a microcosm to say something about the abuse of power。
Now he tended more and more to see Denker as a Mr。 Chips figure； and the tragedy
was not the intellectual racking of Gary Benson but rather the destruction of a
kindly old teacher and headmaster unable to see through the cynical wiles of
this monster masquerading as a boy。
He hadn't been able to finish the play。
Now he sat looking down at it； scowling； wondering if there was any way he
could salvage the situation。 He didn't really think there was。 He bad begun with
one play and it had somehow turned into another； presto…chango。 Well； what the
hell。 Either way it had been done before。 Either way it was a load of shit。 And
why was he driving himself crazy about it tonight anyway？ After the day just
gone by it was no wonder he couldn't think straight。
〃 — get him down？〃
He looked up； trying to blink the cobwebs away。 〃Huh？〃
〃I said； how are we going to get him down？ We've got to get him out of here；
Jack。〃
For a moment his wits were so scattered that he wasn't even sure what she was
talking about。 Then he realized and uttered a short； barking laugh。
〃You say that as if it were so easy。〃
〃I didn't mean — 〃
〃No problem； Wendy。 I'll just change clothes in that telephone booth down in
the lobby and fly him to Denver on my back。 Superman Jack Torrance； they called
me in my salad days。〃
Her face registered slow hurt。
〃I understand the problem； Jack。 The radio is broken。 The snow 。。。 but you
have to understand Danny's problem。 My God； don't you？ He was nearly catatonic；
Jack！ What if he hadn't e out of that？〃
〃But he did；〃 Jack said； a trifle shortly。 He had been frightened at Danny's
blank…eyed； slack…faced state too； of course he had。 At first。 But the more he
thought about it； the more he wondered if it hadn't been a piece of play…acting
put on to escape his punishment。 He had； after all； been trespassing。
〃All the same；〃 she said。 She came to him and sat on the end of the bed by his
desk。 Her face was both surprised and worried。 〃Jack； the bruises on his neck！
Something got at him！ And I want him away from it！〃
〃Don't shout；〃 he said。 〃My head aches； Wendy。 I'm as worried about this as
you are； so please 。。。 don't 。。。 shout。〃
〃All right；〃 she said； lowering her voice。 〃I won't shout。 But I don't
understand you； Jack。 Someone is in here with us。 And not a very nice someone；
either。 We have to get down to Sidewinder； not just Danny but all of us。
Quickly。 And you 。。。 you're sitting there reading your play！〃
〃 'We have to get down； we have to get down；' you keep saying that。 You must
think I really am Superman。〃
〃I think you're my husband；〃 she said softly； and looked down at her hands。
His temper flared。 He slammed the playscript down； knocking the edges of the
pile out of true again and crumpling the sheets on the bottom。
〃It's time you got some of the home truths into you； Wendy。 You don't seem to
have internalized them； as the sociologists say。 They're knocking around up in
your head like a bunch of loose cueballs。 You need to shoot them into the
pockets。 You need to understand that we are snowed in。〃
Danny had suddenly bee active in his bed。 Still sleeping； he had begun to
twist and turn。 The way he always did when we fought； Wendy thought dismally。
And we're doing it again。
〃Don't wake him up； Jack。 Please。〃
He glanced over at Danny and some of the flush went out of his cheeks。 〃Okay。
I'm sorry。 I'm sorry I sounded mad； Wendy。 It's not really for you。 But I broke
the radio。 If it's anybody's fault it's mine。 That was our big link to the
outside。 Olly…olly…in…for…free。 Please e get us； Mister Ranger。 We can't stay
out this late。〃
〃Don't；〃 she said； and put a hand on his shoulder。 He leaned his head against
it。 She brushed his hair with her other hand。 〃I guess you've got a right； after
what I accused you of。 Sometimes I am like my mother。 I can be a bitch。 But you
have to understand that some things 。。。 are hard to get over。 You have to
understand that。〃
〃Do you mean his arm？〃 His lips had thinned。
〃Yes；〃 Wendy said； and then she rushed on： 〃But it's not just you。 I worry
when he goes out to play。 I worry about him wanting a two…wheeler next year；
even one with training wheels。 I worry about his teeth and his eyesight and
about this thing； what he calls his shine。 I worry。 Because he's little and he
seems very fragile and because 。。。 because something in this hotel seems to
want him。 And it will go through us to get him if it has to。 That's why we must
get him out； Jack。 I know that！ I feel that！ We must get him out！〃
Her hand had tightened painfully on his shoulder in her agitation； but he
didn't move away。 One hand found the firm weight of her left breast and he began
to stroke it through her shirt。
〃Wendy；〃 he said； and stopped。 She waited for him to rearrange whatever he had
to say。 His strong hand on her breast felt good； soothing。 〃I could maybe
snowshoe him down。 He could walk part of the way himself； but I would mostly
have to carry him。 It would mean camping out one； two； maybe three nights。 That
would mean building a travois to carry supplies and bedrolls on。 We have the
AM/FM radio； so we could pick a day when the weather forecast called for a
three…day spell of good weather。 But if the forecast was wrong；〃 he finished；
his voice soft and measured； 〃I think we might die。〃
Her face had paled。 It looked shiny； almost ghostly。 He continued to stroke
her breast； rubbing the ball of his thumb gently over the nipple。
She made a soft sound — from his words or in reaction to his gentle pressure on
her breast； he couldn't tell。 He raised his hand slightly and undid the top
button of her shirt。 Wendy shifted her legs slightly。 All at once her jeans
seemed too tight； slightly irritating in a pleasant sort of way。
〃It would mean leaving you alone because you can't snowshoe worth beans。 It
would be maybe three days of not knowing。 Would you want that？〃 His hand dropped
to the second button； slipped it； and the beginning of her cleavage was exposed。
〃No；〃 she said in a voice that was slightly thick。 She glanced over at Danny。
He had stopped twist