Wolves of the Calla - Stephen King [185]
Jake considered these things. As he did, his face gradually brightened with relief. “Do you mean it?”
“Yes.” Roland tried not to show how much this question hurt and angered him. He understood, after all, why the boy would ask. “I promise and swear to my promise. Does it do ya?”
“Yes! It does me fine!”
Roland nodded. “I’m not doing this because I’m convinced it’s the right thing but because you are, Jake. I—”
“Wait a second, whoa, wait,” Jake said. His smile was fading. “Don’t try to put all this on me. I never—”
“Spare me such nonsense.” Roland used a dry and distant tone Jake had seldom heard. “You ask part of a man’s decision. I allow it—must allow it—because ka has decreed you take a man’s part in great matters. You opened this door when you questioned my judgment. Do you deny that?”
Jake had gone from pale to flushed to pale once more. He looked badly frightened, and shook his head without speaking a single word. Ah, gods, Roland thought, I hate every part of this. It stinks like a dying man’s shit.
In a quieter tone he said, “No, you didn’t ask to be brought here. Nor did I wish to rob you of your childhood. Yet here we are, and ka stands to one side and laughs. We must do as it wills or pay the price.”
Jake lowered his head and spoke two words in a trembling whisper: “I know.”
“You believe Susannah should be told. I, on the other hand, don’t know what to do—in this matter I’ve lost my compass. When one knows and one does not, the one who does not must bow his head and the one who does must take responsibility. Do you understand me, Jake?”
“Yes,” Jake whispered, and touched his curled hand to his brow.
“Good. We’ll leave that part and say thankya. You’re strong in the touch.”
“I wish I wasn’t!” Jake burst out.
“Nevertheless. Can you touch her?”
“Yes. I don’t pry—not into her or any of you—but sometimes I do touch her. I get little snatches of songs she’s thinking of, or thoughts of her apartment in New York. She misses it. Once she thought, ‘I wish I’d gotten a chance to read that new Allen Drury novel that came from the book club.’ I think Allen Drury must be a famous writer from her when.”
“Surface things, in other words.”
“Yes.”
“But you could go deeper.”
“I could probably watch her undress, too,” Jake said glumly, “but it wouldn’t be right.”
“Under these circumstances, it is right, Jake. Think of her as a well where you must go every day and draw a single dipperful to make sure the water’s still sweet. I want to know if she changes. In particular I want to know if she’s planning alleyo.”
Jake looked at him, round-eyed. “To run away? Run away where?”
Roland shook his head. “I don’t know. Where does a cat go to drop her litter? In a closet? Under the barn?”
“What if we tell her and the other one gets the upper hand? What if Mia goes alleyo, Roland, and drags Susannah along with her?”
Roland didn’t reply. This, of course, was exactly what he was afraid of, and Jake was smart enough to know it.
Jake was looking at him with a certain understandable resentment…but also with acceptance. “Once a day. No more than that.”
“More if you sense a change.”
“All right,” Jake said. “I hate it, but I asked you dan-dinh. Guess you got me.”
“It’s not an arm-wrestle, Jake. Nor a game.”
“I know.” Jake shook his head. “It feels like you turned it around on me somehow, but okay.”
I did turn it around on you, Roland thought. He supposed it was good none of them knew how lost he was just now, how absent the intuition that had carried him through so many difficult situations. I did…but only because I had to.
“We keep quiet now, but we tell her before the Wolves come,” Jake said. “Before we have to fight. That’s the deal?”
Roland nodded.
“If we have to fight Balazar first—in the other world—we still have to tell her before