little
quarrels of their parents。 And perhaps the thing that was now raving through the
bedroom； overturning things and smashing them； would finally collapse before it
could go after her son。 Perhaps； she thought； it might be possible for her to
inflict even more damage on it 。。。 kill it； perhaps。
Her eyes skated quickly over the bathroom's machine…produced porcelain
surfaces； looking for anything that might serve as a weapon。 There was a bar of
soap； but even wrapped in a towel she didn't think it would be lethal enough。
Everything else was bolted down。 God； was there nothing she could do？
Beyond the door； the animal sounds of destruction went on and on； acpanied
by thick shouts that they would 〃take their medicine〃 and 〃pay for what they'd
done to him。〃 He would 〃show them who's boss；〃 They were 〃worthless puppies；〃
the both of them。
There was a thump as her record player was overturned； a hollow crash as the
secondhand TV's picture tube was smashed； the tinkle of windowglass followed by
a cold draft under the bathroom door。 A dull thud as the mattresses were ripped
from the twin beds where they had slept together； hip to hip。 Boomings as Jack
struck the walls indiscriminately with the mallet。
There was nothing of the real Jack in that howling； maundering； petulant
voice； though。 It alternately whined in tones of selfpity and rose in lurid
screams； it reminded her chillingly of the screams that sometimes rose in the
geriatrics ward of the hospital where she had worked summers as a high school
kid。 Senile dementia。 Jack wasn't out there anymore。 She was hearing the
lunatic； raving voice of the Overlook itself。