K-Pax (85 page)
"On
e
live
s
i
n
alaska
.
Th
e
othe
r
i
s
jus
t
lik
e
everyon
e
els
e
i
n
town."
"Woul
d
yo
u
sa
y
h
e
hate
s
her?"
"H
e
doesn'
t
hat
e
anyone."
"Wha
t
abou
t
mal
e
friends?"
"Ther
e
ain'
t
none."
"Wha
t
abou
t
th
e
bully
.
an
d
th
e
ki
d
h
e
bea
t
up?"
"On
e
i
s
i
n
prison
,
th
e
othe
r
wa
s
kille
d
i
n
lebanon."
"An
d
h
e
neve
r
stop
s
of
f
a
t
a
taver
n
afte
r
wor
k
fo
r
a
bee
r
wit
h
hi
s
fello
w
knockers?"
"No
t
an
y
more."
"H
e
di
d
earlier?"
"H
e
use
d
t
o
jok
e
aroun
d
wit
h
th
e
others
,
hav
e
a
bee
r
o
r
two
.
Bu
t
wheneve
r
h
e
invite
d
someon
e
for
supper
,
the
y
alway
s
foun
d
som
e
excus
e
no
t
t
o
come
.
An
d
n
o
on
e
eve
r
invite
d
hi
m
an
d
hi
s
famil
y
fo
r
a
barbecu
e
o
r
anythin
g
else
.
Afte
r
a
whil
e
h
e
bega
n
t
o
ge
t
th
e
idea
.
No
w
the
y
stic
k
t
o
thei
r
traile
r
mos
t
of
th
e
time.
I
trie
d
t
o
tel
l
hi
m
thi
s
woul
d
happen."
"Sound
s
lik
e
a
prett
y
lonel
y
existence."
"No
t
really
.
Sara
h
ha
s
a
millio
n
brother
s
an
d
sisters."
"An
d
no
w
they'r
e
goin
g
t
o
bu
y
a
house?"
"Maybe
.
O
r
buil
d
one
.
They'v
e
go
t
thei
r
ey
e
o
n
a
fe
w
acre
s
o
f
land
.
It'
s
a
beautifu
l
spot
,
a
par
t
o
f
a
far
m
tha
t
someon
e
spli
t
up
.
I
t
ha
s
a
strea
m
an
d
a
coupl
e
o
f
acre
s
o
f
trees
.
A
lovel
y
place
.
Remind
s
m
e
of
home
.
Excep
t
fo
r
th
e
stream."
"Tel
l
hi
m
I
hop
e
h
e
get
s
it."
"I'l
l
d
o
that
,
bu
t
h
e
stil
l
won'
t
tel
l
yo
u
hi
s
name."
A
t
tha
t
poin
t
Mrs
.
Trexle
r
barge
d
in
,
ou
t
o
f
breath
,
whisperin
g
franticall
y
abou
t
a
disturbanc
e
i
n
the
psychopathi
c
ward
:
Someon
e
ha
d
kidnappe
d
Giselle
!
I
quickl
y
hushe
d
he
r
u
p
an
d
reluctantl
y
brought
pro
t
bac
k
fro
m
hi
s
hypnoti
c
state
,
lef
t
hi
m
wit
h
Mrs
.
T
,
an
d
too
k
of
f
fo
r
th
e
fourt
h
floor.
Giselle
!
I
t
i
s
har
d
t
o
expres
s
th
e
feeling
s
I
ha
d
i
n
th
e
fe
w
second
s
i
t
too
k
m
e
t
o
mak
e
i
t
downstairs
.
I couldn'
t
hav
e
bee
n
mor
e
distresse
d
i
f
i
t
ha
d
bee
n
Abb
y
o
r
Jenn
y
i
n
th
e
hand
s
o
f
whicheve
r
lunati
c
had
grabbe
d
her
.
I
sa
w
he
r
slouche
d
dow
n
i
n
m
y
offic
e
chair
,
hear
d
he
r
childis
h
voice
,
smelle
d
he
r
sweet,
pine
y
scent
.
Giselle
!
Al
l
m
y
fault
.
Al
l
m
y
fault
.
Allowin
g
a
helples
s
gir
l
t
o
"cruis
e
th
e
corridors
"
o
f
the psyc
h
ward
.
I
trie
d
no
t
t
o
imagin
e
a
pai
r
o
f
hair
y
arm
s
wrappe
d
aroun
d
he
r
neck
,
o
r
worse....
I
bange
d
int
o
Four
.
Everyon
e
wa
s
millin
g
aroun
d
o
r
chattin
g
amiably
,
som
e
eve
n
beginnin
g
t
o
return
t
o
thei
r
regula
r
routines
.
I
couldn'
t
believ
e
ho
w
unconcerne
d
the
y
seeme
d
t
o
be
.
Al
l
I
coul
d
think
'
o
f
was: Wha
t
kin
d
o
f
peopl
e
ar
e
these?
Th
e
kidnapper'
s
nam
e
wa
s
Ed
.
H
e
wa
s
a
handsome
,
white
,
fifty-year-ol
d
ma
n
wh
o
ha
d
gon
e
berserk
si
x
year
s
earlie
r
an
d
gunne
d
dow
n
eigh
t
peopl
e
wit
h
a
semiautomati
c
rifl
e
i
n
a
shoppin
g
mal
l
parkin
g
lot.
Unti
l
tha
t
tim
e
h
e
ha
d
bee
n
a
successfu
l
stockbroker
,
a
mode
l
husban
d
an
d
father
,
sport
s
fan
,
church
elder
,
six-handica
p
golfer
,
an
d
al
l
th
e
rest
.
Afterward
,
eve
n
wit
h
regula
r
medication
,
h
e
suffere
d
periods
o
f
episodi
c
dyscontro
l
accompanie
d
b
y
significan
t
electrica
l
activit
y
i
n
hi
s
brain
,
whic
h
usuall
y
ende
d
with
utte
r
exhaustio
n
an
d
fist
s
bloodie
d
b
y
poundin
g
the
m
agains
t
th
e
wall
s
o
f
hi
s
room.