《No Country for Old Men》第17章

he　got　dressed　and　put　the　gun　under　the　mattress　with　the　safety　still　off　and　smoothed down　the　dustskirt　and　sat　on　the　bed　and　picked　up　the　phone　and　called　a　cab。
he　had　to　pay　the　driver　an　extra　ten　dollars　to　take　him　across　the　bridge　to　ciudad acu？a。　he　walked　the　streets；　looking　into　the　shopwindows。　the　evening　was　soft　and warm　and　in　the　little　alameda　grackles　were　settling　in　the　trees　and　calling　to　one another。　he　went　into　a　boot　shop　and　looked　at　the　exotics　—　crocodile　and　ostrich　and elephant　—　but　the　quality　of　the　boots　was　nothing　like　the　larry　mahans　that　he　wore。
he　went　into　a　farmacia　and　bought　a　tin　of　bandages　and　sat　in　the　park　and　patched　his raw　feet。　his　socks　were　already　bloody。　at　the　corner　a　cabdriver　asked　him　if　he wanted　to　go　see　the　girls　and　moss　held　up　his　hand　for　him　to　see　the　ring　he　wore　and kept　on　walking。
he　ate　in　a　restaurant　with　white　tablecloths　and　waiters　in　white　jackets。　he　ordered　a glass　of　red　wine　and　a　porterhouse　steak。　it　was　early　and　the　restaurant　was　empty save　for　him。　he　sipped　the　wine　and　when　the　steak　came　he　cut　into　it　and　chewed slowly　and　thought　about　his　life。
he　got　back　to　the　motel　a　little　after　ten　and　sat　in　the　cab　with　the　motor　running　while he　counted　out　money　for　the　fare。　he　handed　the　bills　across　the　seat　and　he　started　to get　out　but　he　didnt。　he　sat　there　with　his　hand　on　the　doorhandle。　drive　me　around　to the　side；　he　said。
the　driver　put　the　shifter　in　gear。　what　room？　he　said。
just　drive　me　around。　i　want　to　see　if　somebodys　here。
they　drove　slowly　past　his　room。　there　was　a　gap　in　the　curtains　he　was　pretty　sure　he hadnt　left　there。　hard　to　tell。　not　that　hard。　the　cab　tolled　slowly　past。　no　cars　in　the　lot that　hadnt　been　there。　keep　going；　he　said。
the　driver　looked　at　him　in　the　mirror。
keep　going；　said　moss。　dont　stop。
i　dont　want　to　get　in　some　kind　of　a　jackpot　here；　buddy。
just　keep　going。
why　dont　i　let　you　out　here　and　we　wont　argue　about　it。
i　want　you　to　take　me　to　another　motel。
lets　just　call　it　square。
moss　leaned　forward　and　held　a　hundred　dollar　bill　across　the　seat。　youre　already　in　a jackpot；　he　said。　im　tryin　to　get　you　out　of　it。　now　take　me　to　a　motel。
the　driver　took　the　bill　and　tucked　it　into　his　shirtpocket　and　turned　out　of　the　lot　and into　the　street。
he　spent　the　night　at　the　ramada　inn　out　on　the　highway　and　in　the　morning　he　went down　and　ate　breakfast　in　the　diningroom　and　read　the　paper。　then　he　just　sat　there。
they　wouldnt　be　in　the　room　when　the　maids　came　to　clean　it。
checkout　time　is　eleven　oclock。
they　could　have　found　the　money　and　left。
except　of　course　that　there　were　probably　at　least　two　parties　looking　for　him　and whichever　one　this　was　it　wasnt　the　other　and　the　other　wasnt　going　away　either。
by　the　time　he　got　up　he　knew　that　he　was　probably　going　to　have　to　kill　somebody。　he just　didnt　know　who　it　was。
he　took　a　cab　and　went　into　town　and　went　into　a　sporting　goods　store　and　bought　a twelve　gauge　winchester　pump　gun　and　a　box　of　double　ought　buckshot　shells。　the　box of　shells　contained　almost　exactly　the　firepower　of　a　claymore　mine。　he　had　them　wrap the　gun　and　he　left　with　it　under　his　arm　and　walked　up　pecan　street　to　a　hardware　store。
there　he　bought　a　hacksaw　and　a　flat　millfile　and　some　miscellaneous　items。　a　pair　of pliers　and　a　pair　of　sidecutters。　a　screwdriver。　flashlight。　a　roll　of　duct　tape。
he　stood　on　the　sidewalk　with　his　purchases。　then　he　turned　and　walked　back　down　the street。
in　the　sporting　goods　store　again　he　asked　the　same　clerk　if　he　had　any　aluminum tentpoles。　he　tried　to　explain　that　he　didnt　care　what　kind　of　tent　it　was；　he　just　needed the　poles。
the　clerk　studied　him。　whatever　kind　of　tent　it　is；　he　said；　wed　still　have　to　special order　poles　for　it。　you　need　to　get　the　manufacturer　and　the　model　number。
you　sell　tents；　right？
we　got　three　different　models。
which　one　has　got　the　most　poles　in　it？
well；　i　guess　that　would　be　our　ten　foot　walltent。　you　can　stand　up　in　it。　well；　some people　could　stand　up　in　it。　its　got　a　six　foot　clearance　at　the　ridge。
let　me　have　one。
yessir。
he　brought　the　tent　from　the　stockroom　and　laid　it　on　the　counter。　it　came　in　an　orange nylon　bag。　moss　laid　the　shotgun　and　the　bag　of　hardware　on　the　counter　and　untied　the strings　and　pulled　the　tent　from　the　bag　together　with　the　poles　and　cords。
its　all　there；　the　clerk　said。
what　do　i　owe　you。
its　one　seventy…nine　plus　tax。
he　laid　two　of　the　hundred　dollar　bills　on　the　counter。　the　tentpoles　were　in　a　separate bag　and　he　pulled　this　out　and　put　it　with　his　other　things。　the　clerk　gave　him　his change　and　the　receipt　and　moss　gathered　up　the　shotgun　and　his　hardware　purchases together　with　the　tentpoles　and　thanked　him　and　turned　and　left。　what　about　the　tent？
the　clerk　called。
in　the　room　he　unwrapped　the　shotgun　and　wedged　it　in　an　open　drawer　and　held　it　and sawed　the　barrel　off　just　in　front　of　the　magazine。　he　squared　up　the　cut　with　the　file and　smoothed　it　and　wiped　out　the　muzzle　of　the　barrel　with　a　damp　facecloth　and　set　it aside。　then　he　sawed　off　the　stock　in　a　line　that　left　it　with　a　pistol　grip　and　sat　on　the bed　and　dressed　the　grip　smooth　with　the　file。　when　he　had　it　the　way　he　wanted　it　he slid　the　forearm　back　and　slid　it　forward　again　and　let　the　hammer　down　with　his　thumb and　turned　it　sideways　and　looked　at　it。　it　looked　pretty　good。　he　turned　it　over　and opened　the　box　of　shells　and　fed　the　heavy　waxed　loads　into　the　magazine　one　by　one。
he　jacked　the　slide　back　and　chambered　a　shell　and　lowered　the　hammer　and　then　put one　more　round　in　the　magazine　and　laid　the　gun　across　his　lap。　it　was　less　than　two　feet long。
he　called　the　trail　motel　and　told　the　woman　to　hold　his　room　for　him。　then　he　shoved the　gun　and　the　shells　and　the　tools　under　the　mattress　and　went　out　again。
he　went　to　wal…mart　and　bought　some　clothes　and　a　small　nylon　zipper　bag　to　put　them in。　a　pair　of　jeans　and　a　couple　of　shirts　and　some　socks。　in　the　afternoon　he　went　for　a long　walk　out　along