The Dark Tower - Stephen King [147]
“He’s doing it for my dinh,” Eddie said, “and that makes it okay. You may not believe that, Dink, but—”
“But you do.”
“Totally. Now here’s the really important question: does Ted have any idea how long Sheemie can last? Keeping in mind that now he’s got a little more help at this end?”
Who you tryin to cheer up, bro? Henry spoke up suddenly inside his head. Cynical as always. Him or yourself?
Dinky was looking at Eddie as if he were crazy, or soft in the head, at least. “Ted was an accountant. Sometimes a tutor. A day-laborer when he couldn’t get anything better. He’s no doctor.”
But Eddie kept pushing. “What does he think?”
Dinky paused. The wind blew. The music wafted. Farther away, thunder mumbled out of the murk. At last he said: “Three or four times, maybe…but the effects are getting worse. Maybe only twice. But there are no guarantees, okay? He could drop dead of a massive stroke the next time he bears down to make that hole we go through.”
Eddie tried to think of another question and couldn’t. That last answer pretty well covered the waterfront, and when Susannah called them back inside, he was more than glad to go.
Four
Sheemie Ruiz had rediscovered his appetite, which all of them took as a good sign, and was tucking in happily. The bloodspots in his eyes had faded somewhat, but were still clearly visible. Eddie wondered what the guards back in Blue Heaven would make of those if they noticed them, and also wondered if Sheemie could wear a pair of sunglasses without exciting comment.
Roland had gotten the Rod to his feet and was now conferring with him at the back of the cave. Well…sort of. The gunslinger was talking and the Rod was listening, occasionally sneaking tiny awed peeks at Roland’s face. It was gibberish to Eddie, but he was able to pick out two words: Chevin and Chayven. Roland was asking this one about the one they’d met staggering along the road in Lovell.
“Does he have a name?” Eddie asked Dink and Ted, taking a second plate of food.
“I call him Chucky,” Dinky said. “Because he looks a little bit like the doll in this horror movie I saw once.”
Eddie grinned. “Child’s Play, yeah. I saw that one. After your when, Jake. And way after yours, Suziella.” The Rod’s hair wasn’t right, but the chubby, freckled cheeks and the blue eyes were. “Do you think he can keep a secret?”
“If no one asks him, he can,” Ted said. Which was not, in Eddie’s view, a very satisfactory answer.
After five minutes or so of chat, Roland seemed satisfied and rejoined the others. He hunkered—no problem doing that now that his joints had limbered up—and looked at Ted. “This fellow’s name is Haylis of Chayven. Will anyone miss him?”
“Unlikely,” Ted said. “The Rods show up at the gate beyond the dorms in little groups, looking for work. Fetching and carrying, mostly. They’re given a meal or something to drink as pay. If they don’t show up, no one misses them.”
“Good. Now—how long are the days here? Is it twenty-four hours from now until tomorrow morning at this time?”
Ted seemed interested in the question and considered it for several moments before replying. “Call it twenty-five,” he said. “Maybe a little longer. Because time is slowing down, at least here. As the Beams weaken, there seems to be a growing disparity in the time-flow between the worlds. It’s probably one of the major stress points.”
Roland nodded. Susannah offered him food and he shook his head with a word of thanks. Behind them, the Rod was sitting on a crate, looking down at his bare and sore-covered feet. Eddie was surprised to see Oy approach the fellow, and more surprised still when the bumbler allowed Chucky (or Haylis) to stroke his head with one misshapen claw of a hand.
“And is there a time of morning when things down there might be a little less…I don’t know…”
“A little disorganized?” Ted suggested.
Roland nodded.
“Did you hear a horn a little while ago?” Ted asked. “Just before we showed up?”
They all shook