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Wendy
was
worried
about
him
,
the
old
,
helpless
worry
that
she
had
hoped
was
behind
her
forever
in
Vermont
,
as
if
worry
could
somehow
not
cross
state
lines
.
She
didn
’
t
like
what
the
Overlook
seemed
to
be
doing
to
Jack
and
Danny
.
The
most
frightening
thing
,
vaporous
and
unmentioned
,
perhaps
unmentionable
,
was
that
all
of
Jack
’
s
drinking
symptoms
had
come
back
,
one
by
one
…
all
but
the
drink
itself
.
The
constant
wiping
of
the
lips
with
hand
or
handkerchief
,
as
if
to
rid
them
of
excess
moisture
.
Long
pauses
at
the
typewriter
,
more
balls
of
paper
in
the
wastebasket
.
There
had
been
a
bottle
of
Excedrin
on
the
telephone
table
tonight
after
Al
had
called
him
,
but
no
water
glass
.
He
had
been
chewing
them
again
.
He
got
irritated
over
little
things
.
He
would
unconsciously
start
snapping
his
fingers
in
a
nervous
rhythm
when
things
got
too
quiet
.
Increased
profanity
.
She
had
begun
to
worry
about
his
temper
,
too
.
It
would
almost
come
as
a
relief
if
he
would
lose
it
,
blow
off
steam
,
in
much
the
same
way
that
he
went
down
to
the
basement
first
thing
in
the
morning
and
last
thing
at
night
to
dump
the
press
on
the
boiler
.
It
would
almost
be
good
to
see
him
curse
and
kick
a
chair
across
the
room
or
slam
a
door
.
But
those
things
,
always
an
integral
part
of
his
temperament
,
had
almost
wholly
ceased
.
Yet
she
had
the
feeling
that
Jack
was
more
and
more
often
angry
with
her
or
Danny
,
but
was
refusing
to
let
it
out
.
The
boiler
had
a
pressure
gauge
:
old
,
cracked
,
clotted
with
grease
,
but
still
workable
.
Jack
had
none
.
She
had
never
been
able
to
read
him
very
well
.
Danny
could
,
but
Danny
wasn
’
t
talking
.
And
the
call
from
Al
.
At
about
the
same
time
it
had
come
,
Danny
had
lost
all
interest
in
the
story
they
had
been
reading
.
He
left
her
to
sit
by
the
fire
and
crossed
to
the
main
desk
where
Jack
had
constructed
a
roadway
for
his
matchbox
cars
and
trucks
.
The
Violent
Violet
Volkswagen
was
there
and
Danny
had
begun
to
push
it
rapidly
back
and
forth
.
Pretending
to
read
her
own
book
but
actually
looking
at
Danny
over
the
top
of
it
,
she
had
seen
an
odd
amalgam
of
the
ways
she
and
Jack
expressed
anxiety
.
The
wiping
of
the
lips
.
Running
both
hands
nervously
through
his
hair
,
as
she
had
done
while
waiting
for
Jack
to
come
home
from
his
round
of
the
bars
.
She
couldn
’
t
believe
Al
had
called
just
to
"
ask
how
things
were
going
.
"
If
you
wanted
to
shoot
the
bull
,
you
called
Al
.
When
Al
called
you
,
that
was
business
.
Later
,
when
she
had
come
back
downstairs
,
she
had
found
Danny
curled
up
by
the
fire
again
,
reading
the
second
-
grade
-
primer
adventures
of
Joe
and
Rachel
at
the
circus
with
their
daddy
in
complete
,
absorbed
attention
.
The
fidgety
distraction
had
completely
disappeared
.
Watching
him
,
she
had
been
struck
again
by
the
eerie
certainty
that
Danny
knew
more
and
understood
more
than
there
was
room
for
in
Dr
.
(
"
Just
call
me
Bill
"
)
Edmonds
’
s
philosophy
.
"
Hey
,
time
for
bed
,
doc
,
"
she
’
d
said
.
"
Yeah
,
okay
.
"
He
marked
his
place
in
the
book
and
stood
up
.
"
Wash
up
and
brush
your
teeth
.
"
"
Okay
.
"
