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as mean as a snake with the shingles。 What the fuck； a man can't help his
nature。
〃Now you got to remember to e down here twice a day and once at night
before you rack in。 You got to check the press。 If you forget； it'll just creep
and creep and like as not you an your fambly'll wake up on the fuckin moon。 You
just dump her off a little and you'll have no trouble。〃
〃What's top end？〃
〃Oh； she's rated for two…fifty； but she'd blow long before that now。 You
couldn't get me to e down an stand next to her when that dial was up to one
hundred and eighty。〃
〃There's no automatic shutdown？〃
〃No； there ain't。 This was built before such things were required。 Federal
government's into everything these days； ain't it？ FBI openin mail； CIA buggin
the goddam phones 。。。 and look what happened to that Nixon。 Wasn't that a
sorry sight？
〃But if you just e down here regular an check the press； you'll be fine。 An
remember to switch those ducks around like he wants。 Won't none of the rooms get
much above forty…five unless we have an amazin warm winter。 And you'll have your
own apartment just as warm as you like it。〃
〃What about the plumbing？〃
〃Okay； I was just getting to that。 Over here through this arch。〃
They walked into a long； rectangular room that seemed to stretch for miles。
Watson pulled a cord and a single seventyfive…watt bulb cast a sickish； swinging
glow over the area they were standing in。 Straight ahead was the bottom of the
elevator shaft； heavy greased cables descending to pulleys twenty feet in
diameter and a huge； grease…clogged motor。 Newspapers were everywhere； bundled
and banded and boxed。 Other cartons were marked Records or Invoices or Receipts…
SAV1 The smell was yellow and moldy。 Some of the cartons were falling apart；
spilling yellow flimsy sheets that might have been twenty years old out onto the
floor。 Jack stared around； fascinated。 The Overlook's entire history might be
here； buried in these rotting cartons。
〃That elevator's a bitch to keep runnin；〃 Watson said； jerking his thumb at
it。 〃I know Ullman's buying the state elevator inspector a few fancy dinners to
keep the repairman away from that fucker。
〃Now； here's your central plumbin core。〃 In front of them five large pipes；
each of them wrapped in insulation and cinched with steel bands； rose into the
shadows and out of sight。
Watson pointed to a cobwebby shelf beside the utility shaft。 There were a
number of greasy rags on it； and a looseleaf binder。 〃That there is all your
plumbin schematics；〃 he said。 〃I don't think you'll have any trouble with
leaks — never has been — but sometimes the pipes freeze up。 Only way to stop that
is to run the faucets a little bit durin the nights； but there's over four
hundred taps in this fuckin palace。 That fat fairy upstairs would scream all the
way to Denver when he saw the water bill。 Ain't that right？〃
〃I'd say that's a remarkably astute analysis。〃
Watson looked at him admiringly。 〃Say； you really are a college fella aren't
you？ Talk just like a book。 I admire that； as long as the fella ain't one of
those fairy…boys。 Lots of em are。 You know who stirred up all those college
riots a few years ago？ The hommasexshuls； that's who。 They get frustrated an
have to cut loose。 in out of the closet； they call it。 Holy shit； I don't
know what the world's in to。
〃Now； if she freezes； she most likely gonna freeze right up in this shaft。 No
heat； you see。 If it happens； use this。〃 He reached into a broken orange crate
and produced a small gas torch。
〃You just unstrap the insulation when you find the ice plug and put the heat
right to her。 Get it？〃
〃Yes。 But what if a pipe freezes outside the utility core？〃
〃That won't happen if you're doin your job and keepin the place heated。 You
can't get to the other pipes anyway。 Don't you fret about it。 You'll have no
trouble。 Beastly place down here。 Cobwebby。 Gives me the horrors； it does。〃
〃Ullman said the first winter caretaker killed his family and himself。〃
〃Yeah； that guy Grady。 He was a bad actor； I knew that the minute I saw him。
Always grinnin like an egg…suck dog。 That was when they were just startin out
here and that fat fuck Ullman； he woulda hired the Boston Strangler if he'd've
worked for minimum wage。 Was a ranger from the National Park that found em； the
phone was out。 All of em up in the west wing on the third floor； froze solid。
Too bad about the little girls。 Eight and six； they was。 Cute as cut…buttons。
Oh； that was a hell of a mess。 That Ullman； he manages some honky…tonky resort
place down in Florida in the off…season； and he caught a plane up to Denver and
hired a sleigh to take him up here from Sidewinder because the roads were
closed — a sleigh； can you believe that？ He about split a gut tryin to keep it
out of the papers。 Did pretty well； I got to give him that。 There was an item in
the Denver Post； and of course the bituary in that pissant little rag they have
down in Estes Park； but that was just about all。 Pretty good； considerin the
reputation this place has got。 I expected some reporter would dig it all up
again and just sorta put Grady in it as an excuse to rake over the scandals。〃
〃What scandals？〃
Watson shrugged。 〃Any big hotels have got scandals；〃 he said。 〃Just like every
big hotel has got a ghost。 Why？ Hell； people e and go。 Sometimes one of em
will pop off in his room； heart attack or stroke or something like that。 Hotels
are superstitious places。 No thirteenth floor or room thirteen； no mirrors on
the back of the door you e in through； stuff like that。 Why； we lost a lady
just this last July。 Ullman had to take care of that； and you can bet your ass
he did。 That's what they pay him twenty…two thousand bucks a season for； and as
much as I dislike the little prick； he earns it。 It's like some people just e
here to throw up and they hire a guy like Ullman to clean up the messes。 Here's
this woman； must be sixty fuckin years old — my age！ — and her hair's dyed just as
red as a whore's stoplight； tits saggin just about down to her belly button on
account of she ain't wearin no brassy…ear； big varycoarse veins all up and down
her legs so they look like a couple of goddam roadmaps； the jools drippin off
her neck and arms an hangin out her ears。 And she's got this kid with her； he
can't be no more than seventeen； with hair down to his asshole and his crotch
bulgin 'like he stuffed it with the funnypages。 So they're here a week； ten days
maybe； and every night it's the same drill。 Down in the Colorado Lounge from
five to seven； her suckin up singapore slings like they're gonna outlaw em
tomorrow and him with just the one bottle of Olympia； suckin it； makin it last。
And she'd be makin jokes and sayin all these witty things； and every time she
said one he'd grin just like a fuckin ape； like she had strings tied to the
corners of his mouth。 Only after a few days you could see it was gettin harder
an harder for him to grin； and God knows what he had to think about to get his
pump primed by bedtime。 Well； they'd go in for dinner； him walkin and her
staggerin； drunk as a coot； you know； and he'd be pinchin the waitresses and
grinnin at em when she wasn't lookin。 Hell； we even had bets on how long he'd
last。〃
Watson shrugged。
〃Then he es down one night around ten； sayin his 'wife' is 'indisposed' —
which meant she was passed out again like every other night they was there — and
he's goin to get her some stomach medicine。 So off he goes in the little Porsche
they e in； and that's the last we see of him。 Next morning she es down and
tries to put on this big act； but all day she's gettin paler an paler； and Mr。
Ullman asks her； sorta diplomatic…like； would she like him to notify the state
cops； just in case maybe he had a little accident or something。 She's on him
like a cat。 No…no…no； he's a fine driver； she isn't worried； everything's under
control； he'll be back for dinner。 So that afternoon she steps into the Colorado
around three and never has no dinner at all。 She goes up to her room around ten…
thirty； and that's the last time anybody saw her alive。〃
〃What happened？〃
〃County coroner said she took about thirty sleepin pills on top of all the
booze。 Her husband showed up the next day； some big…shot lawyer from New York。
He gave old Ullman four different shades of holy hell。 I'll sue this an I'll sue
that an when I'm through you won't even be able to find a clean pair of
underwear； stuff like that。 But Ullman's good； the sucker。 Ullman got him
quieted down。 Probably asked that bigshot how he'd like to see his wife splashed
all over the New York papers： Wife of Prominent New York Blah Blah Found Dead
With Bellyful of Sleeping Pills。 After playing hide…the…salami with a kid young
enough to be her grandson。
〃The state cops found the Porsche in the back of this allnight burger joint
down in Lyons； and Ullman pulled a few strings to get it released to that
lawyer。 Then both of them ganged up on old Archer Houghton； which is the county
coroner； and got him to change the verdict to accidental death。 Heart attack。
Now ole Archer's driving a Chrysler。 I don't begrudge him。 A man's got to take
it where he finds it； especially when he starts gettin along in years。〃
Out came the bandanna。 Honk。 Peek。 Out of sight。
〃So what happens？ About a week later this stupid cunt of a chambermaid；
Delores Vickery by name； she gives out with a helluva shriek while she's makin
up the room where those two stayed； and she faints dead away。 When she es to
she says she seen the dead woman in the bathroom； layin naked in the tub。 'Her
face was all purple an puffy。' she says； 'an she was grinnin at me。' So Ullman
gave her two weeks' worth of walking papers and told her to get lost。 I figure
there's maybe forty…fifty people died in this hotel since my grandfather opened
it for business in 1910。〃
He looked shrewdly at Jack。
〃You know how most of em go？ Heart attack or stroke； while they're bangin the
lady they're with。 That's what these resorts get a lot of； old types that want
one last fling。 They e up here to the mountains to pretend they're twenty
again。 Sometimes somethin gives； and not all the guys who ran this place was as
good as Ullman is at keepin it out of the papers。 So the Overlook's got a
reputation； yeah。 I'll bet the fuckin Biltmore in New York City has got a
reputation； if you ask the right people。〃
〃But no ghosts？〃
〃Mr。 Torrance； I've worked here all my life。 I played here when I was a kid no
older'n your boy in that wallet snapshot you showed me。 I never seen a ghost
yet。 You want to e out back with me； I'll show you the equipment shed。〃
〃Fine。〃
As Watson reached up to turn off the light； Jack said； 〃There sure are a lot
of papers down here。〃
〃Oh； you're not kiddin。 Seems like they go back a thousand years。 Newspapers
and old invoices and bills of lading and Christ knows what else。 My dad used to
keep up with them pretty good when we had the old wood…burning furnace； but now
they've got all out of hand。 Some year I got to get a boy to haul them down to
Sidewinder and burn em。 If Ullman will stand the expense。 I guess he will if I
holler ‘rat' loud enough。〃
〃Then there are rats？〃
〃Yeah； I guess there's some。 I got the traps and the poison Mr。 Ullman wants
you to use up in the attic and down here。 You keep a good eye on your boy； Mr。
Torrance。 You wouldn't want nothing to happen to him。〃
〃No； I sure wouldn't。〃 ing from Watson the advice didn't sting。
They went to the stairs and paused there for a moment while Watson blew his
nose again。
〃You'll find all the tools you need out there and some you don't； I guess。 And
there's the shingles。 Did Ullman tell you about that？〃
〃Yes； he wants part of the west roof reshingled。〃
〃Hell get all the for…free out of you that he can； the fat little prick； and
then whine around in the spring about how you didn't do the job half right。 I
told him once right to his face； I said 。。。〃
Watson's words faded away to a forting drone as they mounted the stairs。
Jack Torrance looked back over his shoulder once into the impenetrable； musty…
smelling darkness and thought that if there was ever a place that should have
ghosts； this was it。 He thought of Grady； locked in by the soft； implacable
snow； going quietly berserk and mitting his atrocity。 Did they scream？ he
wondered。 Poor Grady； feeling it close in on him more every day； and knowing at
last that for him spring would never e。 He shouldn't have been here。 And he
shouldn't have lost his temper。
As he followed Watson through the door； the words echoed back to him like a
knell； acpanied by a sharp snap…like a breaking pencil lead。 Dear God； he
could use a drink。 Or a thousand of them。
》
SHADOWLAND
Danny weakened and went up for his milk and cookies at quarter past four。 He
gobbled them while looking out the window； then went in to kiss his mother； who
was lying down。 She suggested that he stay in and watch 〃