a
spider or moth。 The driver gets panicky； tries to swat it or unroll a window to
let it out。 Possibly the insect stings him。 Maybe the driver just loses control。
Either way it's bang！ 。。。 all over。 And the insect； usually pletely
unharmed； would buzz merrily out of the smoking wreck； looking for greener
pastures。 The trooper had been in favor of having pathologists look for insect
venom while autopsying such victims； Jack recalled。
Now； looking down into the nest； it seemed to him that it could serve as both
a workable symbol for what he had been through （and what he had dragged his
hostages to fortune through） and an omen for a better future。 How else could you
explain the things that had happened to him？ For he still felt that the whole
range of unhappy Stovington experiences had to be looked at with Jack Torrance
in the passive mode。 He had not done things； things had been done to him。 He had
known plenty of people on the Stovington faculty； two of them right in the
English Department； who were hard drinkers。 Zack Tunney was in the habit of
picking up a full keg of beer on Saturday afternoon； plonking it in a backyard
snowbank overnight； and then killing damn near all of it on Sunday watching
football games and old movies。 Yet through the week Zack was as sober as a
judge — a weak cocktail with lunch was an occasion。
He and Al Shockley had been alcoholics。 They had sought each other out like
two castoffs who were still social enough to prefer drowning together to doing
it alone。 The sea had been whole…grain instead of salt； that was all。 Looking
down at the wasps； as they slowly went about their instinctual busine