Nothing to do but bitch at his wife and nag at the kids and drink。 It gets hard
to sleep because there's nothing to hear。 So he drinks himself to sleep and
wakes up with a hangover。 He gets edgy。 And maybe the telephone goes out and the
TV aerial blows down and there's nothing to do but think and cheat at solitaire
and get edgier and edgier。 Finally。。。 boom； boom； boom。〃
〃Whereas a more educated man； such as yourself？〃
〃My wife and I both like to read。 I have a play to work on； as Al Shockley
probably told you。 Danny has his puzzles； his coloring books； and his crystal
radio。 I plan to teach him to read； and I also want to teach him to snowshoe。
Wendy would like to learn how； too。 Oh yes； I think we can keep busy and out of
each other's hair if the TV goes on the fritz。〃 He paused。 〃And Al was telling
the truth when he told you I no longer drink。 I did once； and it got to be
serious。 But I haven't had so much as a glass of beer in the last fourteen
months。 I don't intend to bring any alcohol up here； and I don't think there
will be an opportunity to get arty after the snow flies。〃
〃In that you would be quite correct；〃 Ullman said。 〃But as long as the three
of you are up here； the potential for problems is multiplied。 I have told Mr。
Shockley this； and he told me he would take the responsibility。 Now I've told
you； and apparently you are also willing to take the responsibility — 〃
〃I am。〃
〃All right。 I'll accept that； since I have little choice。 But I would still
rather have an unattached college boy taking a year off。 Well； perhaps you'll
do。 Now I'll turn you over to Mr。 Watson； who will take you through the basement
and around the grounds。 Unless you have further questions？〃
〃No。 None at all。〃
Ullman stood。 〃I hope there are no hard feelings； Mr。 Torrance。 There is
nothing personal in the things I have said to you。 I only want what's best for
the Overlook。 It is a great hotel。 I want it to stay that way。〃
〃No。 No hard feelings。〃 Jack flashed the PR grin again； but he was glad Ullman
didn't offer to shake hands。 There were hard feelings。 All kinds of them。
》
BOULDER
She looked out the kitchen window and saw him just sitting there on the curb；
not playing with his trucks or the wagon or even the balsa glider that had
pleased him so much all the last week since Jack had brought it home。 He was
just sitting there； watching for their shopworn VW； his elbows planted on his
thighs and his chin propped in his hands； a five…year…old kid waiting for his
daddy。
Wendy suddenly felt bad； almost crying bad。
She hung the dish towel over the bar by the sink and went downstairs；
buttoning the top two buttons of her house dress。 Jack and his pride！ Hey no；
Al； I don't need an advance。 I'm okay for a while。 The hallway walls were gouged
and marked with crayons； grease pencil； spray paint。 The stairs were steep and
splintery。 The whole building smelled of sour age； and what sort of place was
this for Danny after the small neat brick house in Stovington？ The people living
above them on the third floor weren't married； and while that didn't bother her；
their constant； rancorous fighting did。 It scared her。 The guy up there was Tom；
and after the bars had closed and they had returned home； the fights would start
in earnest — the rest of the week was just a prelim in parison。 The Friday
Night Fights； Jack called them； but it wasn't funny。 The woman — her name was
Elaine — would at last be reduced to tears and to repeating over and over again：
〃Don't； Tom。 Please don't。 Please don't。〃 And he would shout at her。 Once they
had even awakened Danny； and Danny slept like a corpse。 The next morning Jack
caught Tom going out and had spoken to him on the sidewalk at some length。 Tom
started to bluster and Jack had said something else to him； too quietly for
Wendy to hear； and Tom had only shaken his head sullenly and walked away。 That
had been a week ago and for a few days things had been better； but since the
weekend things had been working back to normal — excuse me； abnormal。 It was bad
for the boy。
Her sense of grief washed over her again but she was on the walk now and she
smothered it。 Sweeping her dress under her and sitting down on the curb beside
him； she said： 〃What's up； doc？〃
He smiled at her but it was perfunctory。 〃Hi； Mom。〃
The glider was between his sneakered feet； and she saw that one of the wings
had started to splinter。
〃Want me to see what I can do with that； honey？〃
Danny had gone back to staring up the street。 〃No。 Dad will fix it。〃
〃Your daddy may not be back until suppertime； doc。 It's a long drive up into
those mountains。〃
〃Do you think the bug will break down？〃
〃No； I don't think so。〃 But he had just given her something new to worry
about。 Thanks； Danny。 I needed that。
〃Dad said it might；〃 Danny said in a matter…of…fact； almost bored manner。 〃He
said the fuel pump was all shot to shit。〃
〃Don't say that； Danny。〃
〃Fuel pump？〃 he asked her with honest surprise。
She sighed。 〃No； ‘All shot to shit。' Don't say that。〃
〃Why？〃
〃It's vulgar。〃
〃What's vulgar； Mom？〃
〃Like when you pick your nose at the table or pee with the bathroom door open。
Or saying things like ‘All shot to shit。' Shit is a vulgar word。 Nice people
don't say it。〃
〃Dad says it。 When he was looking at the bugmotor he said； ‘Christ this fuel
pump's all shot to sbit。' Isn't Dad nice？〃
How do you get into these things； Winnifred？ Do you practice？
〃He's nice； but he's also a grown…up。 And he's very careful not to say things
like that in front of people who wouldn't understand。〃
〃You mean like Uncle Al？〃
〃Yes； that's right。〃
〃Can I say it when I'm grown…up？〃
〃I suppose you will； whether I like it or not。〃
〃How old？〃
〃How does twenty sound； doc？〃
〃That's a long time to have to wait。〃
〃I guess it is； but will you try？〃
〃Hokay。〃
He went back to staring up the street。 He flexed a little； as if to rise； but
the beetle ing was much newer； and much brighter red。 He relaxed again。 She
wondered just how hard this move to Colorado had been on Danny。 He was
closemouthed about it； but it bothered her to see him spending so much time by
himself。 In Vermont three of Jack's fellow faculty members had had children
about Danny's age — and there had been the preschool — but in this neighborhood
there was no one for him to play with。 Most of the apartments were occupied by
students attending CU； and of the few married couples here on Arapahoe Street；
only a tiny percentage had children。 She had spotted perhaps a dozen of high
school or junior high school age； three infants； and that was all。
〃Mommy； why did Daddy lose his job？〃
She was jolted out of her reverie and floundering for an answer。 She and Jack
had discussed ways they might handle just such a question from Danny； ways that
had varied from evasion to the plain truth with no varnish on it。 But Danny had
never asked。 Not until now； when she was feeling low and least prepared for such
a question。 Yet he was looking at her； maybe reading the confusion on her face
and forming his own ideas about that。 She thought that to children adult motives
and actions must seem as bulking and ominous as dangerous animals seen in the
shadows of a dark forest。 They were jerked about like puppets； having only the
vaguest notions why。 The thought brought her dangerously close to tears again；
and while she fought them off she leaned over； picked up the disabled glider；
and turned it over in her hands。
〃Your daddy was coaching the debate team； Danny。 Do you remember that？〃
〃Sure；〃 he said。 〃Arguments for fun； right？〃
〃Right。〃 She turned the glider over and over； looking at the trade name
（SPEEDOGLIDE） and the blue star decals on the wings； and found herself telling
the exact truth to her son。
〃There was a boy named George Hatfield that Daddy had to cut from the team。
That means he wasn't as good as some of the others。 George said your daddy cut
him because he didn't like him and not because he wasn't good enough。 Then
George did a bad thing。 I think you know about that。〃
〃Was he the one who put the holes in our bug's tires？〃
〃Yes； he was。 It was after school and your daddy caught him doing it。〃 Now she
hesitated again； but there was no question of evasion now； it was reduced to
tell the truth or tell a lie。
〃Your daddy 。。。 sometimes he does things he's sorry for later。 Sometimes he
doesn't think the way he should。 That doesn't happen very often； but sometimes
it does。〃
〃Did he hurt George Hatfield like the time I spilled all his papers？〃
Sometimes —
（Danny with his arm in a cast）
— he does things he's sorry for later。
Wendy blinked her eyes savagely hard； driving her tears all the way back。
〃Something like that； honey。 Your daddy hit George to make him stop cutting
the tires and George hit his head。 Then the men who are in charge of the school
said that George couldn't go there anymore and your daddy couldn't teach