按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
We all stared at him； thinking we understood。 But he looked around at us and shook his head； and took another drink。
〃No；〃 he said。 〃You still don't understand。 What you are all just beginning to see is what I would； if I were a science…fiction writer； call the Time Traveler's Dilemma： future shock； I believe they're calling it now。 But my problem is the Time Traveler's Second Dilemma： transplant shock。
〃You see； you're all time…travelers； too； traveling through time at a rate of one second per second。 In the past few minutes； you've all been made acutely aware of just how much time you've passed through in the last ten years； and it's made you think。
〃But I've traveled ten years all at once； and I don't have your advantages。 Strange as this particular time is to you； you have roots woven into its fabric； you have a place in it however tenuous； and most important of all； you have a purpose。
〃Don't you understand？ I was a minister。
〃I was charged with responsibility for the spiritual development of other human beings。 I was trained to help them live moral lives； to make right choices in difficult decisions； and to fort them when they needed fort。 And now I don't even begin to grasp their problems； let alone the new tools that people like me have been jury…rigging over the past ten years to help them。 Why； I went to a fellow cleric for advice； and he offered me a marijuana cigarette！ I called an old acquaintance of mine； a Catholic priest； and his wife answered the phone； I told her I had a wrong number and hung up。 This whole Watergate Affair is no revelation to anyone who was in Pasala in 1963； it's been a long time since I believed Uncle Sam was a virgin。 But I used to be in the minority。
〃Gentlemen； how can I function as a minister when I don't even begin to prehend one single one of the moral issues of the day？ When I can't； because I haven't lived through the events that gave them birth？〃
He finished off his gin； left the glass on the table and began tracing designs in the moisture it had left there。
〃I've looked for other work。 I've looked for other work for nearly six months now。 Are any of you here out of work？〃
Which was a shame； him saying that； because it caused me to pitch a perfectly good glass of Bushmill's into the fireplace。
Hauptman nodded； and turned to the red…haired mountain behind the bar。
〃And that； Mr。 Callahan； 〃 he said quietly； 〃is the long and short of why you find me in your establishment with a pistol I bought in an alleyway from a young man with more hair than Mary used to have。 I simply didn't know what else to do。〃
He looked around at all of us。
〃And now that didn't work either。 So there's only one thing left I can do。〃 He heaved a great sigh； and his shoulders twitched。 〃I wonder if I'll get to see Mary again？〃
Now； we're a reasonably bright bunch at Callahan's （with some notable exceptions）； and nobody in the room figured that the one thing Hauptman had left to do was start up a chain…letter。 But at the same time； we're a humane bunch； with a fanatical concern for individual liberty； and so we couldn't do any of the conventional things； like try to talk him out of it； or call the police； or have him fitted for the jacket that's all sleeves。 Truth to tell； maybe one or two of us agreed with him that he had no alternative。 We were pretty shaken by his story； is all I can say in our defense。
Because we just sat there； and stared at him； and felt helpless； and the silence became a tangible thing that throbbed in your temples and made your eyes sting。
And then Callahan cleared his throat。
〃To be or not to be；〃 he declaimed in a voice like a foghorn。 〃Is that the question？〃
Like I said； we're a bright bunch； but it took us a second。 By the time I got it； Callahan had already lumbered out from behind the bar； swept a pitcher and three glasses to the floor； and wrapped the tablecloth around him like a toga。 Doc Webster was grinning openly。
〃Listen； ya goddam fathead；〃 Callahan declaimed in the hokey； stentorian tones of a Shakespearean ham； 〃'tis damn well nobler to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune； than to take arms against a sea of troubles； and by opposing； let 'em lick ya。 Nay； fuck that。。。〃 His eyes rolled； his huge hands sawed the air as he postured and orated。
Hauptman stared blankly； his mouth open。
Doc Webster heaved himself up onto a chair； harrumphed noisily and struck a pose。
〃Do not go gentle into that good night；〃 he began passionately。
Suddenly Callahan's Place became a madhouse； something like a theater might be if actors 〃tuned…up〃 as cacophonously as do orchestras。 Everyone suddenly became the Ghost of Barrymore； or thought he had； and the air filled with praises of life and courage delivered in the most impassioned histrionic manner。 I unpacked my old guitar and joined Fast Eddie in a rousing chorus of 〃Pack Up Your Sorrows；〃 and I guess among us all we made a hell of a racket。
〃All right； all right；〃 Callahan bellowed after a few minutes of pandemonium。 〃I reckon that ought to do； gents。 I think we took the Oscar。〃
He turned to Hauptman； and tossed the tablecloth on the floor。
〃Well； Reverend；〃 he growled。 〃Can you top that performance？〃
The little minister looked at him for a long spell； and then he began to laugh and laugh。 It was a different kind of laugh than we'd heard from him before： it had no ragged； edges and no despair in it。 It was a full； deep belly…laugh； and instead of grating on our nerves like a knife on piano wire it made us feel warm and proud and relieved。 Kind of a tribute to our act。
〃Gentlemen；〃 he said finally； clapping his hands feebly； still chuckling； 〃I concede。 I've been out…acted fair and square； I wouldn't try to pete with a performance like that。〃
Then all at once he sobered； and looked at all of us。 〃I。。。 I didn't know people like you existed in this world。 I。。。 I think that I can make it now。 I'll find some kind of work。 It's just that。。。 well。。。 if somebody else knows how tough it is； then it's all right。〃 The corners of his mouth； lifting in a happy smile； met a flood of tears on their way down。 〃Thank you； my friends。 Thank you。〃
〃Any time；〃 said Callahan； and meant it。
And the door banged inevitably open； and we spun around to see a young black kid； chest heaving； framed in the doorway with a 。38 Police Positive in his hand。
〃Now everybody be quiet； an' nobody gonna get hurt；〃 he said shrilly； and stepped inside。
Callahan seemed to swell around the shoulders； but he didn't move。 Everybody was frozen； thinking for the second time that night that we should have been expecting it； and of all of us only Hauptman refused to be numbed by shock any more； only Hauptman kept his head； and only Hauptman remembered。
It all happened very quickly then； as it had to happen。 Callahan's shotgun was behind the bar； out of reach； and Fast Eddie had been caught with both hands in sight。 The minister caught Doc Webster's eye； and they exchanged a meaningful glance across the room that I didn't understand。
And then the Doc cleared his throat。 〃Excuse me； young man；〃 he began； a