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For
the
first
time
he
noticed
how
much
they
seemed
like
eyes
.
They
reflected
away
the
sun
and
held
their
own
darkness
within
.
It
was
not
Danny
they
were
looking
at
.
It
was
him
.
In
those
few
seconds
he
understood
everything
.
There
was
a
certain
black
-
andwhite
picture
he
remembered
seeing
as
a
child
,
in
catechism
class
.
The
nun
had
presented
it
to
them
on
an
easel
and
called
it
a
miracle
of
God
.
The
class
had
looked
at
it
blankly
,
seeing
nothing
but
a
jumble
of
whites
and
blacks
,
senseless
and
patternless
Then
one
of
the
children
in
the
third
row
had
gasped
,
"
It
’
s
Jesus
!
"
and
that
child
had
gone
home
with
a
brand
-
new
Testament
and
also
a
calendar
because
he
had
been
first
.
The
others
stared
even
harder
,
Jacky
Torrance
among
them
.
One
by
one
the
other
kids
had
given
a
similar
gasp
,
one
little
girl
transported
in
near
-
ecstasy
,
crying
out
shrilly
:
"
I
see
Him
!
I
see
Him
!
"
She
had
also
been
rewarded
with
a
Testament
.
At
last
everyone
had
seen
the
face
of
Jesus
in
the
jumble
of
blacks
and
whites
except
Jacky
.
He
strained
harder
and
harder
,
scared
now
,
part
of
him
cynically
thinking
that
everyone
else
was
simply
putting
on
to
please
Sister
Beatrice
,
part
of
him
secretly
convinced
that
he
wasn
’
t
seeing
it
because
God
had
decided
he
was
the
worst
sinner
in
the
class
.
"
Don
’
t
you
see
it
,
Jacky
?
"
Sister
Beatrice
had
asked
him
in
her
sad
,
sweet
manner
.
I
see
your
tits
,
he
had
thought
in
vicious
desperation
.
He
began
to
shake
his
head
,
then
faked
excitement
and
said
:
"
Yes
,
I
do
!
Wow
!
It
is
Jesus
!
"
And
everyone
in
class
had
laughed
and
applauded
him
,
making
him
feel
triumphant
,
ashamed
,
and
scared
.
Later
,
when
everyone
else
had
tumbled
their
way
up
from
the
church
basement
and
out
onto
the
street
he
had
lingered
behind
,
looking
at
the
meaningless
black
-
and
-
white
jumble
that
Sister
Beatrice
had
left
on
the
easel
.
He
hated
it
.
They
had
all
made
it
up
the
way
he
had
,
even
Sister
herself
.
It
was
a
big
fake
.
"
Shitfire
-
hellfire
-
shitfire
,
"
he
had
whispered
under
his
breath
,
and
as
he
turned
to
go
he
bad
seen
the
face
of
Jesus
from
the
corner
of
his
eye
,
sad
and
.
wise
.
He
turned
back
,
his
heart
in
his
throat
.
Everything
had
suddenly
clicked
into
place
and
he
had
stared
at
the
picture
with
fearful
wonder
,
unable
to
believe
he
had
missed
it
.
The
eyes
,
the
zigzag
of
shadow
across
the
care
-
worn
brow
,
the
fine
nose
,
the
compassionate
lips
.
Looking
at
Jack
Torrance
.
What
had
only
been
a
meaningless
sprawl
had
suddenly
been
transformed
into
a
stark
black
-
and
-
white
etching
of
the
face
of
ChristOur
-
Lord
.
Fearful
wonder
became
terror
.
He
had
cussed
in
front
of
a
picture
of
Jesus
.
He
would
be
damned
.
He
would
be
in
hell
with
the
sinners
.
The
face
of
Christ
had
been
in
the
picture
all
along
.
All
along
.
Now
,
kneeling
in
the
sun
and
watching
his
son
playing
in
the
shadow
of
the
hotel
,
he
knew
that
it
was
all
true
.
The
hotel
wanted
Danny
,
maybe
all
of
them
but
Danny
for
sure
.
The
hedges
had
really
walked
.
There
was
a
dead
woman
in
217
,
a
woman
that
was
perhaps
only
a
spirit
and
harmless
under
most
circumstances
,
but
a
woman
who
was
now
an
active
danger
.
Like
some
malevolent
clockwork
toy
she
had
been
wound
up
and
set
in
motion
by
Danny
’
s
own
odd
mind
…
and
his
own
.
Had
it
been
Watson
who
had
told
him
a
man
had
dropped
dead
of
a
stroke
one
day
on
the
roque
court
?
Or
had
it
been
Ullman
?
It
didn
’
t
matter
.
There
had
been
an
assassination
on
the
third
floor
.
How
many
old
quarrels
,
suicides
,
strokes
?
How
many
murders
?
Was
Grady
lurking
somewhere
in
the
west
wing
with
his
ax
,
just
waiting
for
Danny
to
start
him
up
so
he
could
come
back
out
of
the
woodwork
?
The
puffed
circle
of
bruises
around
Danny
’
s
neck
.
The
twinkling
,
half
-
seen
bottles
in
the
deserted
lounge
.
The
radio
.
The
dreams
.
The
scrapbook
he
had
found
in
the
cellar
.
