her。
She melted butter in the frying pan； diluted the soup with milk； and then
poured the beaten eggs into the pan。
A sudden feeling that someone was standing behind her； reaching for her
throat。
She wheeled around； clutching the knife。 No one there。
（！ Get ahold of yourself； girl！）
She grated a bowl of cheese from the block； added it to the omelet； flipped
it； and turned the gas ring down to a bare blue flame。 The soup was hot。 She put
the pot on a large tray with silverware； two bowls； two plates； the salt and
pepper shakers。 When the omelet had puffed slightly； Wendy slid it off onto one
of the plates and covered it。
（Now back the way you came。 Turn off the kitchen lights。 Go through the inner
office。 Through the desk gate； collect two hundred dollars。）
She stopped on the lobby side of the registration desk and set the tray down
beside the silver bell。 Unreality would stretch only so far； this was like some
surreal game of hide…and…seek。
She stood in the shadowy lobby； frowning in thought。
（Don't push the facts away this time； girl。 There are certain realities； as
lunatic as this situation may seem。 One of them is that you may be the only
responsible person left in this grotesque pile。 You have a five…going…on…six son
to look out for。 And your husband； whatever has happened to him and no matter
how dangerous he may be 。。。 maybe he's part of your responsibility； too。 And
even if he isn't consider this： Today is December second。 You could be stuck up
here another four months if a ranger doesn't happen by。 Even if they do start to
wonder why they haven't heard from us on the CB； no one is going to e today 。。。
or tomorrow 。。。 maybe not for weeks。 Are you going to spend a month
sneaking down to get meals with a knife in your pocket and jumping at every
shadow？ Do you really think you can avoid Jack for a month？ Do you think you can
keep Jack out of the upstairs quarters if he wants to get in？ He has the passkey
and one hard kick would snap the bolt。）
Leaving the tray on the desk； she walked slowly down to the dining room and
looked in。 It was deserted。 There was one table with the chairs set up around
it； the table they had tried eating at until the dining room's emptiness began
to freak them out。
〃Jack？〃 she called hesitantly。
At that moment the wind rose in a gust； driving snow against the shutters； but
it seemed to her that there had been something。 A muffled sort of groan。
〃Jack？〃
No returning sound this time； but her eyes fell on something beneath the
batwing doors of the Colorado Lounge； something that gleamed faintly in the
subdued light。 Jack's cigarette lighter。
Plucking up her courage； she crossed to the batwings and pushed them open。 The
smell of gin was so strong that her breath snagged in her throat。 It wasn't even
right to call it a smell； it was a positive reek。 But the shelves were empty。
Where in God's name had he found it？ A bottle hidden at the back of one of the
cupboards？ Where？
There was another groan； low and fuzzy； but perfectly audible this time。 Wendy
walked slowly to the bar。
〃Jack？〃
No answer。
She looked over the bar and there he was； sprawled out on the floor in a
stupor。 Drunk as a lord； by the smell。 He must have tried to go right over the
top and lost his balance。 A wonder he hadn't broken his neck。 An old proverb
recurred to her： God looks after drunks and little children。 Amen。
Yet she was not angry with him； looking down at him she thought be looked like
a horribly overtired little boy who had tried to do too much and had fallen
asleep in the middle of the living room floor。 He had stopped drinking and it
was not Jack who had made the decision to start again； there had been no liquor
for him to start with 。。。 so where had it e from？
Resting at every five or six feet along the horseshoe…shaped bar there were
wine bottles wrapped in straw； their mouths plugged with candles。 Supposed to
look bohemian； she supposed。 She picked one up and shook it； half…expecting to
hear the slosh of gin inside it
（new wine in old bottles）
but there was nothing。 She set it back down。
Jack was stirring。 She went around the bar； found the gate； and walked back on
the inside to where Jack lay； pausing only to look at the gleaming chromium
taps。 They were dry； but when she passed close to them she could smell beer； wet
and new； like a fine mist。
As she reached Jack he rolled over； opened his eyes； and looked up at her。 For
a moment his gaze was utterly blank； and then it cleared。
〃Wendy？〃 he asked。 〃That you？〃
〃Yes；〃 she said。 〃Do you think you can make it upstairs？ If you put your arms
around me？ Jack； where did you — 〃
His hand closed brutally around her ankle。
〃Jack！ What are you — 〃
〃Gotcha！〃 he said； and began to grin。 There was a stale odor of gin and olives
about him that seemed to set off an old terror in her； a worse terror than any
hotel could provide by itself。 A distant part of her thought that the worst
thing was that it had all e back to this； she and her drunken husband。
〃Jack； I want to help。〃
〃Oh yeah。 You and Danny only want to help。〃 The grip on her ankle was crushing
now。 Still holding onto her； Jack was getting shakily to his knees。 〃You wanted
to help us all right out of here。 But now 。。。 I 。。。 gotcha！〃
〃Jack； you're hurting my ankle — 〃
〃I'll hurt more than your ankle； you bitch。〃
The word stunned her so pletely that she made no effort to move when he let
go of her ankle and stumbled from his knees to his feet； where he stood swaying
in front of her。
〃You never loved me；〃 he said。 〃You want us to leave because you know that'll
be the end of me。 Did you ever think about my re 。。。 res 。。。
respons'bilities？ No； I guess to fuck you didn't。 All you ever think about is
ways to drag me down。 You're just like my mother； you milksop bitch！〃
〃Stop it；〃 she said； crying。 〃You don't know what you're saying。 You're drunk。
I don't know how； but you're drunk。〃
〃Oh； I know。 I know now。 You and him。 That little pup upstairs。 The two of
you； planning together。 Isn't that right？〃
〃No； no！ We never planned anything！ What are you — 〃
〃You liar！〃 he screamed。 〃Oh； I know how you do it！ I guess I know that！ When
I say； ‘We're going to stay here and I'm going to do my job；' you say； ‘Yes；
dear；' and he says； ‘Yes； Daddy；' and then you lay your plans。 You planned to
use the snowmobile。 You planned that。 But I knew。 I figured it out。 Did you
think I wouldn't figure it out？ Did you think I was stupid？〃
She stared at him； unable to speak now。 He was going to kill her； and then he
was going to kill Danny。 Then maybe the hotel would be satisfied and allow him
to kill himself。 Just like that other caretaker。 Just like
（Grady。）
With almost swooning horror； she realized at last who it was that Jack had
been conversing with in the ballroom。
〃You turned my son against me。 That was the worst。〃 His face sagged into lines
of selfpity。 〃My little boy。 Now he hates me； too。 You saw to that。 That was
your plan all along； wasn't it？ You've always been jealous； haven't you？ Just
like your mother。 You couldn't be satisfied unless you had all the cake； could
you？ Could you？〃
She couldn't talk。
〃Well； I'll fix you；〃 he said； and tried to put his hands around her throat。
She took a step backward； then another； and he stumbled against her。 She
remembered the knife in the pocket of her robe and groped for it； but now his
left arm had swept around her； pinning her arm against her side。 She could smell
sharp gin and the sour odor of his sweat。
〃Have to be punished；〃 he was grunting。 〃Chastised。 Chastised 。。。 harshly。〃
His right hand found her throat。
As her breath stopped； pure panic took over。 His left hand joined his right
and now the knife was free to her own hand； but she forgot about it。 Both of her
hands came up and began to yank helplessly at his larger； stronger ones。
〃Mommy！〃 Danny shrieked from somewhere。 〃Daddy； stop！ You're hurting Mommyl〃
He screamed piercingly； a high and crystal sound that she heard from far off。
Red flashes of light leaped in front of her eyes like ballet dancers。 The room
grew darker。 She saw her son clamber up on the bar and throw himself at Jack's
shoulders。 Suddenly one of the hands that had been crushing her throat was gone
as Jack cuffed Danny away with a snarl。 The boy fell back against the empty
shelves and dropped to the floor； dazed。 The hand was on her throat again。 The
red flashes began to turn black。
Danny was crying weakly。 Her chest was burning。 Jack was shouting into her
face： 〃I'll fix you！ Goddam you； I'll show you who is boss around here！ I'll
show you — 〃
But all sounds were fading down a long dark corridor。 Her struggles began to
weaken。 One of her hands fell away from his and dropped slowly until the arm was
stretched out at right angles to her body； the hand dangling limply from the
wrist like the hand of a drowning woman。
It touched a bottle — one of the straw…wrapped wine bottles that served as
decorative candleholders。
Sightlessly； with the last of her strength； she groped for the bottle's neck
and found it； feeling the greasy beads of wax against her hand。
（and U God if it slips）
She brought it up and then down； praying for aim； knowing that if it only
struck his shoulder or upper arm she was dead。
But the bottle came down squarely on Jack Torrance's head； the glass
shattering violently inside the straw。 The base of it was thick and heavy； and
it made a sound against his skull like a medicine ball dropped on a hardwood
floor。 He rocked back on his heels； his eyes rolling up in their sockets。 The
pressure on her throat loosened； then gave way entirely。 He put his hands out；
as if to steady himself； and then crashed over on his back。
Wendy drew a long； sobbing breath。 She almost fell herself； clutched the edge
of the bar； and managed to hold herself up。 Consciousness wavered in and out。
She could hear Danny crying； but she had no idea where he was。 It sounded like
crying in an echo chamber。 Dimly she saw dime…sized drops of blood falling to
the dark surface of the bar…from her nose； she thought。 She cleared her throat
and spat on the floor。 It sent a wave of agony up the column of her throat； but
the agony subsided to a steady dull press of pain。。。 just bearable。
Little by little； she managed to get control of herself。
She let go of the bar； turned around； and saw Jack lying full…length； the
shattered bottle beside him。 He looked like a felled giant。 Danny was crouched
below the lounge's cash register； both hands in his mouth； staring at his
unconscious father。
Wendy went to him unsteadily and touched his shoulder。 Danny cringed away from
her。
〃Danny； listen to me — 〃
〃No； no；〃 he muttered in a husky old man's voice。 〃Daddy hurt you 。。。 you
hurt Daddy 。。。 Daddy hurt you 。。。 I want to go to sleep。 Danny wants to go
to sleep。〃
〃Danny — 〃
〃Sleep； sleep。 Nighty…night。〃
〃No！〃
Pain ri