《No Country for Old Men》第41章

r。　he　handed the　flashlight　to　the　driver　and　leaned　back　in　the　seat。　lets　go；　he　said。
whats　in　there；　the　driver　said。
money。
money？
money。
the　driver　started　the　engine　and　pulled　out　onto　the　road。
turn　the　lights　on；　moss　said。
he　turned　the　lights　on。
how　much　money？
a　lot　of　money。　what　will　you　take　to　drive　me　to　san　antonio。
the　driver　thought　about　it。　you　mean　on　top　of　the　five　hundred。
yes。
how　about　a　grand　all　in。
everthing。
yes。
you　got　it。
the　driver　nodded。　then　how　about　the　other　half　of　these　five　caesars　i　already　got。
moss　took　the　bills　from　his　pocket　and　handed　them　across　the　back　of　the　seat。
what　if　the　migra　stop　us。
they　wont　stop　us；　moss　said。
how　do　you　know？
theres　too　much　shit　still　down　the　road　that　i　got　to　deal　with。　it　aint　goin　to　end　here。
i　hope　youre　right。
trust　me；　moss　said。
i　hate　hearin　them　words；　the　driver　said。　i　always　did。
have　you　ever　said　them？
yeah。　ive　said　em。　thats　how　e　i　know　what　theyre　worth。
he　spent　the　night　in　a　rodeway　inn　on　highway　90　just　west　of　town　and　in　the morning　he　went　down　and　got　a　paper　and　climbed　laboriously　back　to　his　room。　he couldnt　buy　a　gun　from　a　dealer　because　he　had　no　identification　but　he　could　buy　one out　of　the　paper　and　he　did。　a　tec…9　with　two　extra　magazines　and　a　box　and　a　half　of shells。　the　man　delivered　the　gun　to　his　door　and　he　paid　him　in　cash。　he　turned　the piece　in　his　hand。　it　had　a　greenish　parkerized　finish。　semiautomatic。　when　was　the　last time　you　fired　it？　he　said。
i　aint　never　fired　it。
are　you　sure　it　fires？
why　would　it　not？
i　dont　know。
well　i　dont　either。
after　he　left　moss　walked　out　onto　the　prairie　behind　the　motel　with　one　of　the　motel pillows　under　his　arm　and　he　wrapped　the　pillow　about　the　muzzle　of　the　gun　and　fired off　three　rounds　and　then　stood　there　in　the　cold　sunlight　watching　the　feathers　drift across　the　gray　chaparral；　thinking　about　his　life；　what　was　past　and　what　was　to　e。
then　he　turned　and　walked　slowly　back　to　the　motel　leaving　the　burnt　pillow　on　the ground。
he　rested　in　the　lobby　and　then　climbed　up　to　the　room　again。　he　bathed　in　the　tub　and looked　at　the　exit　hole　in　his　lower　back　in　the　bathroom　mirror。　it　looked　pretty　ugly。
there　were　drains　in　both　holes　that　he　wanted　to　pull　out　but　he　didnt。　he　pulled　loose the　plaster　on　his　arm　and　looked　at　the　deep　furrow　the　bullet　had　cut　there　and　then taped　the　dressing　back　again。　he　dressed　and　put　some　more　of　the　bills　into　the　back pocket　of　his　jeans　and　he　fitted　the　pistol　and　the　magazines　into　the　case　and　closed　it and　called　a　cab　and　picked　up　the　document　case　and　went　out　and　down　the　stairs。
he　bought　a　1978　ford　pickup　with　four　wheel　drive　and　a　460　engine　from　a　lot　on north　broadway　and　paid　the　man　in　cash　and　got　the　title　notarized　in　the　office　and put　the　title　in　the　glovebox　and　drove　away。　he　drove　back　to　the　motel　and　checked out　and　left；　the　tec…9　under　the　seat　and　the　document　case　and　his　bag　of　clothes sitting　in　the　floor　on　the　passenger　side　of　the　truck。
at　the　onramp　at　boerne　there　was　a　girl　hitchhiking　and　moss　pulled　over　and　blew　the horn　and　watched　her　in　the　rearview　mirror。　running；　her　blue　nylon　knapsack　slung over　one　shoulder。　she　climbed　in　the　truck　and　looked　at　him。　fifteen；　sixteen。　red hair。　how　far　are　you　goin？　she　said。
can　you　drive？
yeah。　i　can　drive。　it　aint　no　stick　shift　is　it？
no。　get　out　and　e　around。
she　left　her　knapsack　on　the　seat　and　got　out　of　the　truck　and　crossed　in　front　of　it。
moss　pushed　the　knapsack　into　the　floor　and　eased　himself　across　and　she　got　in　and　put the　truck　in　drive　and　they　pulled　out　onto　the　interstate。
how　old　are　you？
eighteen。
bullshit。　what　are　you　doin　out　here？　dont　you　know　its　dangerous　to　hitchhike？
yeah。　i　know　it。
he　took　off　his　hat　and　put　it　on　the　seat　beside　him　and　leaned　back　and　closed　his　eyes。
dont　go　over　the　speed　limit；　he　said。　you　get　us　stopped　by　the　cops　and　you　and　me both　will　be　in　a　shitpot　full　of　trouble。
all　right。
im　serious。　you　go　over　the　speed　limit　and　ill　set　your　ass　out　by　the　side　of　the　road。
all　right。
he　tried　to　sleep　but　he　couldnt。　he　was　in　a　lot　of　pain。　after　a　while　he　sat　up　and　got his　hat　off　the　seat　and　put　it　on　and　looked　over　at　the　speedometer。
can　i　ask　you　somethin？　she　said。
you　can　ask。
are　you　runnin　from　the　law？
moss　eased　himself　in　the　seat　and　looked　at　her　and　looked　out　at　the　highway。　what makes　you　ask　that？
on　account　of　what　you　said　back　yonder。　about　bein　stopped　by　the　police。
what　if　i　was？
then　i　think　i　ought　to　just　get　out　up　here。
you　dont　think　that。　you　just　want　to　know　where　you　stand。
she　looked　at　him　out　of　the　corner　of　her　eye。　moss　studied　the　passing　country。　if　you spent　three　days　with　me；　he　said；　i　could　have　you　holdin　up　gas　stations。　be　no　trick　at all。
she　gave　him　a　funny　little　half　smile。　is　that　what　you　do？　she　said。　hold　up　gas stations？
no。　i　dont　have　to。　are　you　hungry？
im　all　right。
when　did　you　eat　last。
i　dont　like　for　people　to　start　askin　me　when　i　eat　last。
all　right。　when　did　you　eat　last？
i　knowed　you　was　a　smart…ass　from　the　time　i　got　in　the　truck。
yeah。　pull　off　up　here　at　this　next　exit。　its　supposed　to　be　four　miles。　and　reach　me　that machinegun　from　under　the　seat。
bell　drove　slowly　across　the　cattleguard　and　got　out　and　closed　the　gate　and　got　back　in the　truck　and　drove　across　the　pasture　and　parked　at　the　well　and　got　out　and　walked over　to　the　tank。　he　put　his　hand　in　the　water　and　raised　a　palmful　and　let　it　spill　again。
he　took　off　his　hat　and　passed　his　wet　hand　through　his　hair　and　looked　up　at　the windmill。　he　looked　out　at　the　slow　dark　elliptic　of　the　blades　turning　in　the　dry　and windbent　grass。　a　low　wooden　trundling　under　his　feet。　then　he　just　stood　there　paying the　brim　of　his　hat　slowly　through　his　fingers。　the　posture　of　a　man　perhaps　who　has just　buried　something。　i　dont　know　a　damn　thing；　he　said。
when　he　got　home　she　had　supper