He looked shrewdly at Jack。
〃You know how most of em go？ Heart attack or stroke； while they're bangin the
lady they're with。 That's what these resorts get a lot of； old types that want
one last fling。 They e up here to the mountains to pretend they're twenty
again。 Sometimes somethin gives； and not all the guys who ran this place was as
good as Ullman is at keepin it out of the papers。 So the Overlook's got a
reputation； yeah。 I'll bet the fuckin Biltmore in New York City has got a
reputation； if you ask the right people。〃
〃But no ghosts？〃
〃Mr。 Torrance； I've worked here all my life。 I played here when I was a kid no
older'n your boy in that wallet snapshot you showed me。 I never seen a ghost
yet。 You want to e out back with me； I'll show you the equipment shed。〃
〃Fine。〃
As Watson reached up to turn off the light； Jack said； 〃There sure are a lot
of papers down here。〃
〃Oh； you're not kiddin。 Seems like they go back a thousand years。 Newspapers
and old invoices and bills of lading and Christ knows what else。 My dad used to
keep up with them pretty good when we had the old wood…burning furnace； but now
they've got all out of hand。 Some year I got to get a boy to haul them down to
Sidewinder and burn em。 If Ullman will stand the expense。 I guess he will if I
holler ‘rat' loud enough。〃
〃Then there are rats？〃
〃Yeah； I guess there's some。 I got the traps and the poison Mr。 Ullman wants
you to use up in the attic and down here。 You keep a good eye on your boy； Mr。
Torrance。 You wouldn't want nothing to happen to him。〃
〃No； I sure wouldn't。〃 ing from Watson the advice didn't sting。
They went to the stairs and paused there for a moment while Watson blew his
nose again。
〃You'll find all the tools you need out there and some you don't； I guess。 And
there's the shingles。 Did Ullman tell you about that？〃
〃Yes； he wants part of the west roof reshingled。〃
〃Hell get all the for…free out of you that he can； the fat little prick； and
then whine around in the spring about how you didn't do the job half right。 I
told him once right to his face； I said 。。。〃
Watson's words faded away to a forting drone as they mounted the stairs。
Jack Torrance looked back over his shoulder once into the impenetrable； musty…
smelling darkness and thought that if there was ever a place that should have
ghosts； this was it。 He thought of Grady； locked in by the soft； implacable
snow； going quietly berserk and mitting his atrocity。 Did they scream？ he
wondered。 Poor Grady； feeling it close in on him more every day； and knowing at
last that for him spring would never e。 He shouldn't have been here。 And he
shouldn't have lost his temper。
As he followed Watson through the door； the words echoed back to him like a
knell； acpanied by a sharp snap…like a breaking pencil lead。 Dear God； he
could use a drink。 Or a thousand of them。
》
SHADOWLAND
Danny weakened and went up for his milk and cookies at quarter past four。 He
gobbled them while looking out the window； then went in to kiss his mother； who
was lying down。 She suggested that he stay in and watch 〃Sesame Street〃 — the
time would pass faster — but he shook his head firmly and went back to his place
on the curb。
Now it was five o'clock； and although he didn't have a watch and couldn't tell
time too well yet anyway； he was aware of passing time by the lengthening of the
shadows； and by the golden cast that now tinged the afternoon light。
Turning the glider over in his hands； he sang under his breath： 〃Skip to m
Lou； n I don't care 。。。 skip to m Lou； n I don't care 。。。 my master's gone
away 。。。 Lou； Lou； skip to In Lou。。。〃
They had sung that song all together at the Jack and Jill Nursery School he
had gone to back in Stovington。 He didn't go to nursery school out here because
Daddy couldn't afford to send him anymore。 He knew his mother and father worried
about that； worried that it was adding to his loneliness （and even more deeply；
unspoken between them； that Danny blamed them）； but he didn't really want to go
to that old Jack and Jill anymore。 It was for babies。 He wasn't quite a big kid
yet； but he wasn't a baby anymore。 Big kids went to the big school and got a hot
lunch。 First grade。 Next year。 This year was someplace between being a baby and
a real kid。 It was all right。 He did miss Scott and Andy…mostly Scott…but it was
still all right。 It seemed best to wait alone for whatever might happen next。
He understood a great many things about his parents； and he knew that many
times they didn't like his understandings and many other times refused to
believe them。 But someday they would have to believe。 He was content to wait。
It was too bad they couldn't believe more； though； especially at times like
now。 Mommy was lying on her bed in the apartment； just about crying she was so
worried about Daddy。 Some of the things she was worried about were too grown…up
for Danny to understand…vague things that had to do with security； with Daddy's
selfimage feelings of guilt and anger and the fear of what was to bee of
them…but the two main things on her mind right now were that Daddy had had a
breakdown in the mountains （then why doesn't he call？） or that Daddy had gone
off to do the Bad Thing。 Danny knew perfectly well what the Bad Thing was since
Scotty Aaronson； who was six months older； had explained it to him。 Scotty knew
because his daddy did the Bad Thing； too。 Once； Scotty told him； his daddy had
punched his mom right in the eye and knocked her down。 Finally； Scotty's dad and
mom had gotten a DIVORCE over the Bad Thing； and when Danny had known him；
Scotty lived with his mother and only saw his daddy on weekends。 The greatest
terror of Danny's life was DIVORCE； a word that always appeared in his mind as a
sign painted in red letters which were covered with hissing； poisonous snakes。
In DIVORCE； your parents no longer lived together。 They had a tug of war over
you in a court （tennis court？ badminton court？ Danny wasn't sure which or if it
was some other； but Mommy and Daddy had played both tennis and badminton at
Stovington； so he assumed it could be either） and you had to go with one of them
and you practically never saw the other one； and the one you were with could
marry somebody you didn't even know if the urge came on them。 The most
terrifying thing about DIVORCE was that he had sensed the word…or concept； or
whatever it was that came to him in his understandings…floating around in his
own parents' heads； sometimes diffuse and relatively distant； sometimes as thick
and obscuring and frightening as thunderheads。 It had been that way after Daddy
punished him for messing the papers up in his study and the doctor had to put
his arm in a cast。 That memory was already faded； but the memory of the DIVORCE
thoughts was clear and terrifying。 It had mostly been around his mommy that
time； and he had been in constant terror that she would pluck the word from her
brain and drag it out of her mouth； making it real。 DIVORCE。 It was a constant
und