The Shining

and nodded. “I think… if we can get away from here… everything will be like it was. Where could we put him?”
“The pantry. There’s food in there, and a good strong bolt on the outside. It’s warm. And we can eat up the things from the refrigerator and the freezer. There will be plenty for all three of us until help comes.”
“Do we do it now?”
“Yes, right now. Before he wakes up.,”
Danny put the bargate up while she folded Jack’s hands on his chest and listened to his breathing for a moment. It was slow but regular. From the smell of him she thought he must have drunk a great deal… and he was out of the habit. She thought it might be liquor as much as the crack on the head with the bottle that had put him out.
She picked up his legs and began to drag him along the floor. She had been married to him for nearly seven years, he had lain on top of her countless times-in the thousandsbut she had never realized how heavy he was. Her breath whistled painfully in and out of her hurt throat. Nevertheless, she felt better than she had in days. She was alive. Having just brushed so close to death, that was precious. And Jack was alive, too. By blind luck rather than plan, they had perhaps found the only way that would bring them all safely out.
Panting harshly, she paused a moment, holding Jack’s feet against her hips. The surroundings reminded her of the old seafaring captain’s cry in Treasure Island after old blind Pew had passed him the Black Spot: h’e’ll do em yeti
And then she remembered, uncomfortably, that the old seadog had dropped dead mere seconds later.
“Are you all right, Mommy? Is he… is he too heavy?”
“I’ll manage.” She began to drag him again. Danny was beside Jack. One of his hands had fallen off his chest, and Danny replaced it gently, with love.
“Are you sure, Mommy?”
“Yes. It’s the best thing, Danny.”
“It’s like putting him in jail.”
“Only for awhile.”
“Okay, then. Are you sure you can do it?”
“Yes.”
But it was a near thing, at that. Danny had been cradling his father’s head when they went over the doorsills, but his hands slipped in Jack’s greasy hair as they went into the kitchen. The back of his head struck the tiles, and Jack began to moan and stir.
“You got to use smoke,” Jack muttered quickly. “Now run and get me that gascan.”
Wendy and Danny exchanged tight, fearful glances.
“Help me,” she said in a low voice.
For a moment Danny stood as if paralyzed by his father’s face, and then he moved jerkily to her side and helped her hold the left leg. They dragged him across the kitchen floor in a nightmare kind of slow motion, the only sounds the faint, insectile buzz of the fluorescent lights and their own labored breathing.
When they reached the pantry, Wendy put Jack’s feet down and turned to fumble with the bolt. Danny looked down at Jack, who was lying limp and relaxed again. The shirttail had pulled out of the back of his pants as they dragged him and Danny wondered if Daddy was too drunk to be cold. It seemed wrong to lock him in the pantry like a wild animal, but he had seen what he tried to do to Mommy. Even upstairs he had known Daddy was going to do that. He had heard them arguing in his head.
(If only we could all be out of here. Or if it was a dream I was having, back in Stovington. If only.)
The bolt was stuck.
Wendy pulled at it as hard as she could, but it wouldn’t move. She couldn’t retract the goddam bolt. It was stupid and unfair… she had opened it with no trouble at all when she had gone in to get the can of soup. Now it wouldn’t move, and what was she going to do? They couldn’t put him in the walk-in refrigerator; he would freeze or smother to death. But if they left him out and he woke up…
Jack stirred again on the floor.
“I’ll take care of it,” he muttered. “I understand”
“He’s waking up, Mommyl” Danny warned.
Sobbing now, she yanked at the bolt with both hands.
“Danny?” There was something softly menacing, if still blurry, in Jack’s voice. “That you, ole doc?”
“Just go to sleep, Daddy,” Danny said nervously. “It’s bedtime, you know.”
He looked up at his mother, still struggling with the bolt, and saw what was wrong immediately. She had forgotten to rotate the bolt before trying to withdraw it. The little catch was stuck in its notch.
“Here,” he said low, and brushed her trembling hands aside; his own were shaking almost as badly. He knocked the catch loose with the heel of his hand and the bolt drew back easily.
“Quick,” he said. He looked down. Jack’s eyes bad fluttered open again and this time Daddy was looking directly at him, his gaze strangely flat and speculative.
“You copied it,” Daddy told him. “I know you did, But it’s here somewhere. And I’ll find it. That I