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第58部分（第4页）

very　fact　a　great　deal。　Not　so　young　anymore；　when　you　got　up　near　sixty　years

old　（or　tell　the　truth　and　save　a　lie　—　past　it）　you　had　to　start　thinking　about

stepping　out。　You　could　go　anytime。　And　that　had　been　on　his　mind　this　week；　not

in　a　heavy　way　but　as　a　fact。　Dying　was　a　part　of　living。　You　had　to　keep　tuning

in　to　that　if　you　expected　to　be　a　whole　person。　And　if　the　fact　of　your　own

death　was　hard　to　understand；　at　least　it　wasnt　impossible　to　accept。

Why　this　should　have　been　on　his　mind　he　could　not　have　said；　but　his　other

reason　for　getting　this　small　order　himself　was　so　he　could　step　upstairs　to　the

small　office　over　Franks　Bar　and　Grill。　There　was　a　lawyer　up　there　now　（the

dentist　who　had　been　there　last　year　had　apparently　gone　broke）；　a　young　black

fellow　named　McIver。　Hallorann　had　stepped　in　and　told　this　McIver　that　he

wanted　to　make　a　will；　and　could　McIver　help　him　out？　Well；　McIver　asked；　how

soon　do　you　want　the　document？　Yesterday；　said　Hallorann；　and　threw　his　head

back　and　laughed。　Have　you　got　anything　plicated　in　mind？　was　McIvers　next

question。　Hallorann　did　not。　He　had　his　Cadillac；　his　bank　account　—　some　nine

thousand　dollars　—　a　piddling　checking　account；　and　a　closet　of　clothes。　He

wanted　it　all　to　go　to　his　sister。　And　if　your　sister　predeceases　you？　McIver

asked。　Never　mind；　Hallorann　said。　If　that　happens；　Ill　make　a　new　will。　The

document　had　been　pleted　and　signed　in　less　than　three　hours　—　fast　work　for　a

shyster　—　and　now　resided　in　Halloranns　breast　pocket；　folded　into　a　stiff　blue

envelope　with　the　word　WILL　on　the　outside　in　Old　English　letters。

He　could　not　have　said　why　he　had　chosen　this　warm　sunny　day　when　he　felt　so

well　to　do　something　he　had　been　putting　off　for　years；　but　the　impulse　had　e

on　him　and　he　hadnt　said　no。　He　was　used　to　following　his　hunches。

He　was　pretty　well　out　of　town　now。　He　cranked　the　limo　up　to　an　illegal　sixty

and　let　it　ride　there　in　the　left…hand　lane；　sucking　up　most　of　the　Petersburg…

bound　traffic。　He　knew　from　experience　that　the　limo　would　still　ride　as　solid

as　iron　at　ninety；　and　even　at　a　hundred　and　twenty　it　didnt　seem　to　lighten　up

much。　But　his　screamin　days　were　long　gone。　The　thought　of　putting　the　limo　up

to　a　hundred　and　twenty　on　a　straight　stretch　only　scared　him。　He　was　getting

old。

（Jesus；　those　oranges　smell　strong。　Wonder　if　they　gone　over？）

Bugs　splattered　against　the　window。　He　dialed　the　radio　to　a　Miami　soul

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