Chapter 7 01

This summer was not the same as the summer in Mick's memory. It seemed that nothing had happened, nothing worth remembering or something that could be described in words, but she felt a certain change.During that time, she was very excited.I can't wait to get up in the morning and start my day.At night, the thing she hates the most is sleeping. As soon as breakfast was over, she would take the children out, except for three meals a day, they were out most of the time, mostly wandering in the street, she pulled Ralph's stroller, and the little one followed.She was full of thoughts and ideas.Sometimes she would look up suddenly, and sometimes she would come to some strange part of town.And once or twice, they bumped into Bill in the street, and she was lost in thought, and Bill pulled her arm, and she came back to herself.

In the early morning, the weather was a little cool, and their shadows on the sidewalk stretched long in front of them.But at noon, the weather was unbearably hot, and the scorching sun dazzled people's eyes.Many times, the plans related to her are related to ice and snow.Sometimes she felt like she was in Switzerland, where the mountains were covered with snow and she was gliding on the cool, pale green ice.Mr. Singer was also with her.Maybe Carlo Lombard or Arturo Toscanini would play on the radio.They would skate together, and then Mr. Singer fell into a hole in the ice, and she swam across the ice desperately to save his life.This picture has been lingering in her mind.

On weekdays, after they had strolled for a while, she would put Tiny and Ralph in the shade.Little is a good boy, and Mick has trained him well.If she told her brother he couldn't go where he couldn't hear Ralph crying, he would never go two or three blocks away to play pinball with the other kids.He would play by himself near the stroller, so she needn't worry too much if she left them.She's either going to the library and reading National Geographic, or she's just wandering around with other things on her mind, and if she has any money, she'll go to Mr. Brannon's for a drink or a "Maco" .He would give discounts to children, and you could buy things for five cents for three cents.

However, no matter what she was doing, there was always music.Sometimes, she would hum while walking, and sometimes, she would listen to songs quietly in her heart, with all kinds of music in her mind.Some were heard on the radio, and some were in her head, not from anywhere. She was free at night after the children went to bed.This is also the most important time of her day.A lot can happen when she's alone in the dark.After dinner, she will run out.She can't tell anyone what she does at night, and when her mother asks, she will make up some plausible lies.However, most of the time, when someone calls her, she will pretend not to hear and run away.Not so with her father.There seemed to be something in Dad's voice that made her unable to escape.He was the biggest and tallest man in town.But he spoke so softly that people were surprised when he opened his mouth.No matter how rushed she is, she will stop when her father calls her.

This summer, she discovered that her father had undergone a certain change, making it seem like he was no longer recognized.Before, she had never really thought of him as an individual.He still calls her often.She would go into the outhouse where he worked and stand there for a few minutes, but, though she would still listen to what Dad had to say, her mind would be long gone.One night, she felt as if she had just met her father out of the blue.It was a very ordinary night, and she didn't know why she understood it all at once.Since then, she feels that she has grown up, and the image of her father in her heart is the same as that in the eyes of others.

One evening in late August, she was in a hurry to be at a house by nine o'clock without delay.Pa called her and she went into the front room.Dad sat listlessly at the workbench.He didn't look natural at all.Before his accident last year, he had been working as a painter and carpenter.Every morning before dawn, he would put on overalls and go out for a whole day.At night, he sometimes plays with clocks and watches, which can be regarded as overtime work.He always wanted to get a job in a watch shop where he could sit at his workbench all day in a crisp white shirt and tie.Now that he can no longer work as a carpenter, he put up a sign in front of the house that read: "Cheap Clock Repair".He didn't look like most of the watchmakers, though, who in the town center were small, quick-limbed, dark-skinned Jews.Dad sitting in front of the workbench is really too tall, and his big skeleton seems to be loosely connected together.

Dad stared at her, and Mick could see that Dad had no reason to call her, but just wanted to talk to her so badly.He was struggling to get something to say, and his brown eyes stood out too large in his long, thin face, and his hair was all gone, and his pale, bald head gave a bare look.He just looked at her like this and didn't speak, but Mick was in a hurry to leave and couldn't delay for a moment.Dad saw she was in a hurry and cleared his throat. "I've got something for you," he said, "not much, but you might be able to buy something to eat with it." He didn't have to give her a nickel or a dime just because she was lonely and wanted to talk to someone.The money he made was just enough for her to drink beer twice a week.Right now, there were two bottles of wine on the floor next to the chair, one empty and the other just opened.As soon as he drank beer, he wanted to talk to someone.Dad strokes the belt, and she glances away.This summer, he was like a kid who liked to hide those nickels and dimes.Sometimes it is hidden in shoes, sometimes it is hidden in the gap cut by the belt.She didn't want the dime much, but when he held out his hand to her, she opened her hand naturally and took the money.

"I have so many things on hand, but I don't know where to start." He said. But the truth is definitely not the case, both of them know it well.He didn't have many clocks to fix at all, and when he was done he would wander around the house looking for trivial things to do.In the evenings, he would sit at his workbench, cleaning old springs and cogs, trying to kill as much time as possible before bed.Since he broke his hip, he hasn't been able to work as a painter or carpenter, but he finds something for himself all the time. "I've been thinking a lot tonight," her dad said, pouring a glass of beer and sprinkling salt on the back of his hand.He licked the salt and took a sip of the wine from his glass.She was in a hurry to go out and didn't want to stay here for a moment.Her dad noticed it too, and wanted to say something to him, but he didn't have anything special to call Mick here, he just wanted to talk to her for a while, he started, but only halfway through.They just looked at each other.Silence spread between the two, and neither of them spoke.

It was at this time that she seemed to know her father again.It's not that she has learned a new fact. All along, she has only scratched the surface of what she knows about her father.Now it dawned on her that she finally understood her father.He is a lonely old man.Because no child would take the initiative to find him, because he didn't earn much money, and he seemed to be a dispensable person in this family.When he was lonely, he wanted to be close to a certain child, but they were too busy to care about it, so how could he know what his father was thinking.He always felt that he was useless.

When the two looked at each other, she finally understood this, and it felt weird.Her father took a watch spring and cleaned it with a brush soaked in gasoline. "I know you're in a hurry. I just wanted to say hello." "No, I'm not in a hurry, really," she said. That night, she sat in a chair near her workbench, and the two talked for a while.They talked about accounts and expenses, and what would happen if he worked in a different way.He drank his beer, and all the while he was in tears, and he wiped his nose with the sleeve of his shirt.She stayed with Papa for a while that night, despite her urgent needs.But somehow she couldn't tell Dad what was going on in her head—it was all about hot, dark nights.

Those nights are secret, the most important time of the whole summer.In the dark, she walked alone, as if she was the only one left in the town.At night, almost all the streets are as familiar as the neighborhood where her home is.Some children were afraid of walking in the dark on unfamiliar streets, but she wasn't.The girls were worried that a man would pop out of nowhere and rape them as if they were married women.Most of the girls were nuts, and if a guy as big as Joe Louis or Mountain Dean jumped out at her for a fight, she'd run away.But if the guy hadn't weighed twenty pounds more than she did, she'd beat the shit out of him and move on. What a beautiful night, she didn't have time to think about being afraid.Whenever she was in a dark place, all she could think about was music.When she walks on the street, she also sings to herself.She felt like the whole town was listening, but she didn't know it was Mick Kelly who sang. It was during those unrestrained summer nights that she slowly figured out the way of music.Every household in the affluent area of ​​the town has a radio, and all the windows are open. She walks on the street and listens to the wonderful music.After a while, she knows which radio has the program she wants to hear.One family didn't miss any of the good orchestral programs.At night, she would run to the house, sneak into the dark yard and listen quietly.There were beautiful bushes growing around the house, and she would sit under them near the windows.After the show ended, she put her hands in her pockets and stood alone in the dark yard, thinking about it for a long time.This is also the most real time of the whole summer - listening to the music on the radio, and then trying to figure it out. "Please close the door, sir," said Mick. Little ones are like thorny thorns. "Please do me a favor, Miss." He replied not to be outdone. Learning Spanish at vocational school was exciting, and speaking a foreign language always made her feel well-informed.Every afternoon when she goes to school, she proudly speaks new words and sentences in Spanish.At first, the little one was stumped, and she liked to observe the expression on the little one's face while speaking a foreign language.But he figured it out quickly, and it wasn't long before he was able to repeat everything she said and memorize every word she learned.Of course, he didn't understand what those sentences meant, but she didn't mean to express the meaning of the sentences.It didn't take long for the child to catch up with her, and she stopped speaking Spanish altogether, slurring a few sounds to cope.But this only trick was quickly seen through by him, and no one could fool the shrewd little one. "I'll pretend it's my first time in the house," Mick said, "so I can see if the decor is good." She went out on the front porch, then back into the house, and stood in the hall.She, Tiny, Portia, and her dad had been busy all day, decorating the foyer and dining room for the party.The decor is nothing more than autumn leaves, vines and red crumpled paper.Bright yellow foliage sits above the dining room mantelpiece and behind the coat rack.They also decorated the walls with vines, and there were large punch glasses on the dining table.Red crumpled paper hung like tassels from the mantelpiece and tangled up the backs of the chairs.Enough decoration, no problem. She rubbed her forehead and narrowed her eyes.The little girl stood by, imitating her every move. "I really hope the party goes well, really." This is her first time throwing a party.She's only been to four or five parties.Last summer, she went to prom, but none of the boys asked her to dance.She just stood by the big mug of punch, and when all the treats were gone, she went home.This time the party will definitely not be the same as last time.In a few hours, the people she invited will come, and it will definitely be very lively. She can barely remember how the idea for the party came about, not long after she started vocational school.Middle school is fun.Nothing like a grammar school.If she went to shorthand with Hazel and Etta, she probably wouldn't like it, but she was given a license to take mechanics as well as the boys.Mechanics class, algebra class, and Spanish class are all fun.Chinese is too difficult.Her Chinese teacher is Miss Mina.People say that Miss Mina sold her head to a famous doctor for ten thousand dollars, so that after she died the doctor could cut her head open and find out why she was so smart.In writing class, she would ask questions such as: "Please list eight famous Dr. Johnsons of our time." "Quoting ten sentences from "The Vicar of Wakefield." At that time, the report card will be opened and posted there.Despite her intelligence, she was a nasty old woman.The Spanish teacher has been to Europe.She said the French would go home with long loaves of bread, and no bags.When they stood talking to people in the street, the loaves would hit the lampposts.France doesn't even have water, only wine. Vocational schools are almost perfect.During recess, they would wander the corridors, and during lunch breaks, students would play in the gymnasium.However, there was one thing that always bothered her.There were crowds of people in the corridors, all of whom seemed to belong to certain circles.A week or two passed, and she could only say hello to people she met in the hallways and in class, and that was it.She doesn't belong to any circle.In grammar school, whatever gang she wanted to hang out with, she just went, it was easy.It's different here. For the first week she walked up and down the corridors alone, thinking about it.She wants to fit into a small circle, and she puts as much thought into it as she does music.These two things always occupied her mind.Finally she came up with an idea for a party. She has strict requirements on who she invites.Children from grammar schools and children under the age of twelve are not invited.She only invites children between the ages of thirteen and fifteen.The people she invited were people who could talk in the hallway, and if she didn't know the names of those people, she would try to find out.If there is a phone at home, she will call, and the rest will be invited in person at school. On the phone, she always said the same thing, and would ask the little one to put her ear to listen. "I'm Mick Kelly," she said.If the name wasn't all that familiar to them, she'd keep saying it until they figured out who it was. "I'm going to have a dance at eight o'clock on Saturday night, and I invite you to it. I live in Apartment A, 103 Fourth Avenue." The words Apartment A sounded like that on the phone.Almost everyone is happy.A couple of the boys were quite difficult, trying to be clever and asking for her name all the time.One of the boys wanted to be clever and say "I don't know you".As a result, she immediately choked him. "Go cool off." There were ten boys and ten girls, except for the smart guy, and she knew they would all come.This is what a party should look like. Custody is different from the parties she has attended or heard of, and it must be better than those. Mick checked the foyer and dining room one last time, stopping under the coat rack photo of "Old Dirty Face," Mama's grandfather, who had been a major in the Civil War and had died in battle.I don't know which child painted glasses and a beard on the photo, but the pencil mark was wiped off, but the face was terribly dirty. She simply called him "Old Dirty Face".The framed photograph is at the center of a triptych, flanked by his sons.They looked as big as puppies, in uniform, with surprised expressions on their faces.They also died on the battlefield later, but it was a long time ago. "It's going to be a party and I'm going to take the photo down. I think it's so generic, don't you?" "I don't know," said the little one, "are we ordinary people, Mick?" "Anyway, I'm not." She put the picture under the coat rack, and it did a good job of decorating it.Mr. Singer will like it when he gets home.The empty room seemed quiet.The table is also set, just waiting for the food to be served, and the party starts after dinner.She went into the kitchen to see how the dessert was getting ready. "Do you think everything will go well?" she asked Portia. Portia is making cookies.Refreshments are served on the stove top.There are peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, chocolate chip cookies and punch.The sandwich was covered with a damp dishcloth.She stole a glance, but didn't take it. "I've told you countless times that the storage will be smooth." Portia said. "As long as I'm done cooking dinner at home, I'll put on my white apron and serve you good food when I come back. But I have to leave before nine-thirty. It's Saturday, and me, Highboy, and Willie Everything is wrong." "Of course," said Mick, "I just want you to help me get the beginning together—you know that." She couldn't help it, and took a sandwich.She left Tiny with Portia and went into the middle room by herself.The dress she was wearing tonight lay flat on the bed.Hazel and Etta were fine, and lent her their best clothes considering they weren't going to the party.Etta lent her a long blue crepe de chine evening dress, a pair of white dancing shoes, and a rhinestone tiara.The clothes were so beautiful it was hard to imagine what she would look like in them. In the evening, the yellow sunlight casts long oblique shadows through the windows.If it takes two hours to get dressed for a party, now's the time.Thinking about wearing such a beautiful dress, Mick couldn't sit still.She walked slowly into the bathroom, took off her old shorts and shirt, and turned on the water.She started scrubbing rough spots: ankles, knees, and especially elbows, which took a long time. She came to the middle room naked and began to dress, first in a silk romper and stockings, then Etta's bra—just for the fun of it—and then carefully put on her skirt and dancing shoes.This is the first time she has worn an evening dress.Mick stood for a long time in front of the mirror.She was very tall, and the hem of the skirt was only two or three inches above the ankle, and the shoes were too short and squeezed her feet.She stood in front of the mirror for a long time, and finally felt that she was either a fool or a beautiful woman.Just these two possibilities. She changed six hairstyles.The uneven lock of hair on the forehead was a little troublesome, so she wet her bangs and made three curls.Finally, she topped her head with a rhinestone tiara and slathered on lipstick and rouge.When she's done, she lifts her chin like a movie star, half-closes her eyes, and slowly turns her face from side to side.It's really beautiful. She felt like a different person, not Mick Kelly at all.The party was still two hours away, and she was dressed like this to embarrass her family.So, she went to the bathroom again and locked the door.She couldn't sit down lest she wrinkle her gown.She stands in the middle of the floor.The enclosed walls seemed to contain all her excitement inside.She felt that she was very different from the Mick Kelly of the past.She knows this party is better than anything else in her life. "Excellent! Punch!" "This dress is so beautiful..." "Oh! You figured out that trigonometry problem, multiplying forty-six by twenty..." "Excuse me! Don't get in the way!" Partygoers poured into the house, and the front door kept opening and closing.High-pitched voices mixed with whispered voices, until at last there was nothing but noise in the room.Girls stood together in groups in beautiful long evening dresses.Boys roamed the rooms in clean canvas trousers, military uniforms, or new dark autumn suits.The room was so lively that Mick couldn't see anyone clearly.She stood by the coat rack and watched the party. "Everyone take the invitation card and go make an appointment." At first, the room was so loud that no one could hear or understand what was going on.Three layers of boys gathered in front of the punch glasses, the table and the vines could not be seen, only the father's face could be seen above the group of boys, he poured the punch into the small paper cup with a smile, On the base of the nearby coat rack was a jar of candy and two handkerchiefs.Several girls thought today was Mick's birthday, so she thanked them and opened the presents, but she didn't tell them that she would not turn fourteen in eight months.Everyone was dressed in bright clothes, just like her.They smelled good too, and the boys had glossy pomade on their heads.The girls stood together in long skirts of different colors, like a cluster of bright flowers.It got off to a good start and the party got off to a good start. "I'm part Scottish-Irish and part French, and..." "I'm of Germanic blood..." Before she went to the restaurant, she shouted for everyone to bring invitations.After a while, they gathered in the hall.Everyone was holding invitations, with their backs against the wall, and lined up in groups of three or four.That's when the party really begins. Then a very curious thing happened, and the crowd fell silent suddenly.The boys stood on one side of the room, the girls on the opposite side.For some unknown reason, everyone was silent at the same time.The boy raised the invitation card in his hand and looked at the girl. The room was silent.It stands to reason that boys should invite girls to dance.The eerie silence still spread, and the situation was getting worse.She didn't go to parties much, and she was a little helpless.The boys punched each other and chattered away.The girls giggled, and even though they weren't looking at the boy, you could guess that all they could think about was whether they'd be popular or not.The eerie silence was gone, but a sense of nervousness pervaded the room. After a while, a boy approached a girl named Dolores Brown, and as soon as he had invited her, other boys also approached Dolores.Her invitations filled up quickly, and they turned their target to a girl named Mary.Then it's business as usual.Later, one or two girls were invited.Because she was the one throwing the party, three boys came over and invited her.But that's all. Everyone was doing nothing in the dining room and in the foyer.The boys mostly clustered around the punch glasses, trying to impress everyone else.The girls gathered together in twos and threes, laughing and pretending to be having a good time.Boys and girls are trying to figure out each other's mind.There was a strange atmosphere in the room. That's when she noticed Harry Minowitz, their neighbor.Mick had known him since childhood.Although he is two years older than her, she is better developed than him. In summer, they often wrestle and fight on the grass beside the street.Harry is Jewish, but doesn't look like much.Tonight, he was very smartly dressed, and he had left a feathered Panama hat on the coat rack when he came in. However, it was not his clothes that caught her attention, but his face.His face changed because he was not wearing the horn-rimmed glasses he usually wears.A red, swollen needle protruded from one eye, and he had to turn his head on one side like a bird to see clearly, and kept touching the needle with his long thin hand as if it hurt.When he tried to drink the punch, the paper cup nearly reached her dad's face.Mick could see that he couldn't do without those glasses.He was nervous and kept bumping into people recklessly.Besides her, Harry didn't invite any other girls to dance, and only invited her because she was the host of the party. The punch was all gone.Afraid of embarrassment, her father went to the kitchen with her mother to make lemonade.There are people on the front porches and sidewalks.She was happy to breathe the cool night air.Coming out of the brightly lit stuffy room, she could smell the new autumn air in the dark. At this time, she discovered an unexpected thing.A group of children lived nearby on sidewalks and dark streets.There's Pete and Nut and Bebe and Ribs, a whole bunch of people, some younger than Tiny, some older than twelve, some kids who don't even know her, and somehow they smell the party Smell, all ran over to see.Some children were as old as her, and some were even older than her.She didn't invite any of them, either because they'd done mean things to her or because she'd done them a disgraceful thing.The crowd was all dirty, in plain shorts, sloppy knickerbockers, or old everyday clothes.For now, they're just hanging out in the dark, watching the party.Seeing these children brings a mixture of sadness and alarm. "I've invited you to dance." Harry Minowitz pretended to read the invitation, but she saw nothing was written on it.That's when her dad came out on the front porch, blew a whistle, and the first dance began. "Yes," she said, "let's go." The two walked down the block.Wearing a long skirt, she felt very stylish. "Look over there, look at Mick Kelly!" cried a child in the dark. "Look at her!" She turned a deaf ear and still walked forward, but she knew that the man was a rib, and she would want him to look good one day.She and Harry walked briskly down the dark sidewalk to the end of the street and turned into another block. "Mick, how old are you, Thirteen?" "Almost fourteen." Mick knew what he was thinking, and this thing had been giving her a headache.She was five foot six now and weighed one hundred and three pounds, and she was only thirteen.The party kids were dwarfs around her, with the exception of Harry, who was only a few inches shorter than her.Nobody wants to dance with a girl half a head taller than them.Maybe smoking will keep her from growing too tall, though. "I've grown 3.25 inches in the last year alone," she said. "I saw a woman at the market once who must have been eight foot five. But you can't grow that tall anyway." Harry stopped before a dark crape myrtle.No one was around.He took something out of his pocket and fiddled with it.She leaned over to have a look. It was the pair of glasses he often wiped with a handkerchief. "I'm sorry," he said as he put on his glasses, and Mick heard him take a deep breath. "You should be wearing glasses all the time." "yes." "Why don't you wear it when you go out?" The night was as quiet as ink.Harry grabbed her elbow as they crossed the street. "There was a lady at the party who said it was sissy for guys to wear glasses. That person...well, maybe I..." His words were only half spoken, and then he straightened up suddenly, took a few steps, and jumped up to reach the leaves four feet above his head.She could see tall leaves in the dark, and his jumping ability was really good, and he was enough.He put the leaf in his mouth and punched the imaginary enemy a few times in the dark.She chased after it. As usual, a song came to her mind.She hummed to herself. "What are you singing?" "It was written by a guy named Mozart." Harry was in a good mood.He walked sideways, like a light-footed boxer. "Why does it sound like a German name?" "I guess so." "Fascist?" "what?" "Am I saying that Mozart guy is a fascist or a Nazi?" Mick thought for a while. "No. You're talking about the most recent thing. This guy died a long time ago." "Good thing." He waved his fist again in the dark, hoping she could ask why. "I said it was a good thing," he said again. "why?" "Because I hate fascists. If I caught him on the road, I'd kill him." She looked at Harry, the leaves under the street lamps casting shimmering, dappled shadows on his face.He is very excited. "Why?" she asked. "My God! Don't you read the newspapers? That's how it is..." They circled back to the block again.There was a lot of noise in her house.Everyone was shouting and running on the sidewalk.She felt sick to her stomach. "No time to explain to you, unless we walk around the block again. I don't mind telling you why I hate fascism. I'd love to talk to you." This may be the first time he has had the opportunity to put these ideas in front of people.Too bad she didn't have time to listen.At the moment, she is busy observing what is happening in front of the house. "Okay, see you later." Their date was over.She could look around now and think about the mess. What happened during her absence?When she left, everyone was standing around in their fancy clothes, doing nothing, and it was a real party.But now, five minutes later, the place is like a madhouse.After she was gone, the kids emerged from the darkness and rushed to the party.They are also too bold.Damn Pete Wells came out the front quickly with a glass of punch in his hand.The fellows, in baggy old knickerbockers and everyday clothes, yelled and ran and mingled with the invitees. Baby Wilson was running wild on the front porch. She wasn't even four years old.Anyone with a discerning eye can see that at this moment, she should be sleeping at home like the little one.But she holds the punch high over her head and walks down the steps.She has no reason to be here.Mr. Brannon was her uncle, and she could get free sweets and drinks from him at any time.Mick grabbed her arm as soon as he stepped onto the sidewalk. "Come home right away, Baby Wilson, hurry up." Mick looked around, wondering if there was anything else he could do to fix the mess.She walked towards the idiot, who was standing at the far end of the dark sidewalk, holding a paper cup, looking at everyone in a daze.Stupid is only seven years old, wearing shorts, shirtless, and bare feet.He didn't make any noise, but Mick almost didn't go crazy watching the scene in front of him. She grabbed Nubby by the shoulders and shook him vigorously.At first, he clenched his jaw tightly, and after a while, his teeth chattered. "Go home for me, idiot. Stop hanging around here, and I didn't invite you." She let go.The fool felt embarrassed and walked slowly to the other side of the street.But he didn't go home.He came around the corner, and Mick saw him sitting on the curb, watching the party from a distance, and he thought she couldn't see him sitting there. Finally getting rid of the idiot, she immediately breathed a sigh of relief.But she soon had troubles again and simply called him back.The older kids are the culprits.What a bunch of uneducated children, she had never seen such a courageous guy.Drunk all the drinks and messed up such a good party.They banged the front door, shouted loudly, and ran into each other.She went over to Pete Wells, for he was the worst of all children.The guy wears a football cap and keeps bumping people.Pete is fourteen years old and still repeating seventh grade.Mick came up to him, but he was too big to shake him like a jerk.Mick told him to come home, but the guy wobbled and lunged at her with his head down. "I've been in six different states. Florida, Alabama..." "It's made of silver cloth, with ribbons..." The party is all screwed up.Everyone is talking in a hurry.The people invited from the vocational school mixed with the kids from the neighborhood.The boys and girls were still standing there in separate groups, and no one was dancing.The lemon juice in the room was almost gone, and there was a little drink left at the bottom of the glass, with a few slices of lemon peel floating on it.Her father has always been good to children.Whoever handed him a paper cup, he poured punch.Portia was serving sandwiches to everyone when she entered the restaurant, and they were gone in less than five minutes.All she got was a jelly sandwich, pink juice oozing from the bread. Portia watched the party from the dining room. "It's been too much fun, I'm not going," she said. "I've sent word to Highboy and Willie to let them have their own Saturday night. Everyone's so excited, I'm going to wait until the party Just leave when it's over." Excited is the word to describe this party.She can fully appreciate its meaning in the room, hallway and sidewalk.Excited herself, as she passed the mirror on the coat rack, she looked at the beautiful gown she was wearing, her pretty face, the rouge on her cheeks, and the rhinestone tiara on her head.Maybe it was the decor, the friends from vocational school, and the huddled children that got her so excited. "Look, she's running!" "Oh! Just save yourself..." "Don't act like a child!" A group of girls ran down the street clutching their skirts, their hair flying behind their heads.Some boys cut off the long thorny yucca branches and ran after the girls with them.职业学校的新生穿的行头的确是为了参加正儿八经的舞会，可他们的行为举止却同小孩无异。半是玩乐，半是正经。一个男孩拿着枝条跑过来，她也撒腿就跑。 派对这档子事到这里算是彻底结束了。这只不过是一次普普通通的玩乐，可她却从没经历过这么疯狂的夜晚——全是拜那群小孩所赐。他们就跟传染病一样，自打他们进入派对的现场后，其他人早忘了他们中学生的身份，忘了他们快是成年人了。好比下午洗澡前，你跑到后院打几个滚，弄一身泥，只是想感受一下进入浴缸时的那股痛快劲儿。礼拜六的晚上，所有人都跟野孩子一样疯狂地打闹，她觉得自己才是他们当中玩得最疯的那个。 她高声叫喊着，推搡着，有什么新花招，她总是头一个尝试。她嗓门很大，跑得飞快，无暇顾及别人在做什么。她上气不接下气，总算没有精力把那些疯狂的事都做个遍。 “街那头有个沟！沟！沟！”她第一个冲了过去。街区铺了新的管道，挖了一道很深的沟。沟边的大火盆在黑暗中发出耀眼的红光。她迫不及待地想爬下去。于是，她跑到轻轻晃动的火焰旁，跳了下去。 要是穿上那双网球鞋，她落地时会像猫一样轻盈。可她脚上的高跟舞鞋滑了一下，肚子撞到管道上。她屏住呼吸，双眼紧闭，静静地躺在那里。 她久久地回忆这场派对，想着它本来应该会是什么样，想着职业学校新认识的朋友，还有她每天都想融入的圈子。回到学校的走廊上，她将会有不同的感觉，因为她知道那些人也没什么特别的，跟别的孩子没什么两样。派对虽然被被毁了，也不是什么坏事。但一切都结束了，是的，结束了。 米克从沟里爬了出来。几个孩子在火盆边上玩耍，火盆发出红通通的火光，拉得长长的影子忽闪忽闪地跳动着。一个男孩跑回家，戴上了生面团形状的面具，那是提前为万圣节买的。派对并没有变，变的是她。 她慢慢朝家里走去。经过那群孩子身边时，她没有说话，也没有看他们。门厅里的装饰扯了下来，所有人都在外面，屋子看起来空空荡荡的。她进入洗手间，脱掉蓝色的晚礼服。裙边破了，她将礼服折起来，这样破烂的地方就瞧不出来了。水钻头饰不知道去哪儿了。旧短裤和衬衣还留在原来的地方。她穿上衣裤。经历这件事之后，她不能再穿短裤了。今晚过后就不能再穿了，没错。 米克站在前廊上，没有涂脂抹粉的脸是那样的苍白。她将双手握成喇叭状放在嘴边，深吸了一口气。“都回家吧！要关门了！派对结束了！” 在这个静谧的夜晚，她再次孤身一人。现在还不算太晚，街边，黄色的光在窗户上投下四四方方的光影。她双手插在裤兜里，头歪向一边，慢慢地走着。她没有留意方向，走了许久。 房子渐少，院子里有大树和黑色的灌木。她环顾四周，发现来到夏天到过多次的房子旁。她的脚不知不觉地把她带到了这里。来到屋前时，她等了等，确保没人看见，然后才进了侧院。 跟往常一样，收音机仍然开着。她在窗旁驻足片刻，观察屋子里的人。秃头男子和头发花白的女人在桌旁打牌。米克坐在地上。这里真是个隐蔽的好地方。四周是枝繁叶茂的雪松，她藏身其中，谁也发现不了。今晚收音机里的节目不怎样——有人在唱流行歌曲，结尾大同小异。她感到空虚，伸手往口袋里掏了掏，摸到一些葡萄干，一枚七叶树果和一串珠子，还有一根香烟和火柴。她点燃烟，双手抱膝。她感到空虚至极，内心既没有感觉也没有思想。 收音机里的节目一个接一个，不过全是垃圾。她也没有特别在意。她抽着烟，扯了一小把草叶。过了一会儿，新的播音员说话了。他提到了贝多芬。她在图书馆读过有关这个音乐家的书。他的名字听起来包含字母“a”，拼写时却是两个“e”。他跟莫扎特一样是德国人，不过他生前说着外语，住在外国，她也想这样。播音员说马上要播放他的第三交响曲。她心不在焉地听着，因为她想再走一走，并不在意收音机里播放的是什么。这时，音乐开始了，米克抬起头，拳头抵住喉咙。 how come?那一瞬间，音乐的开场犹如天平一样从一侧晃到另一侧，像散步又像行军，像上帝在夜里昂首阔步地走过。她身外的世界突然凝固了，只有开篇的乐章在她内心燃烧。她甚至听不见后面的音乐，但她坐在那里，攥紧拳头，一动不动地等着。过了一会儿，音乐声又起，比先前更带劲，更响亮。这回，那音乐跟上帝没有任何关系了。她，米克·凯利成了主角，白天，她踽踽独行，夜晚，她只身一人。在烈日下，在黑暗中，满脑子都是计划，内心酝酿着情感。这音乐就是她——没有半点虚假。 她没法听清音乐的全部。但这音乐在她内心沸腾。到底是哪部分？她必须牢牢记住精彩的篇章，仔细回味，事后才不会忘记。也许她应该放松下来，将每个乐章都听一遍，不去想，也不用努力去记住。God!整个世界就是这音乐，可她却听不够。这时，音乐开头的乐章又重新回来了。每个音符由不同的乐器串在一起，如同攥得紧紧的拳头重重地敲打她的心脏，至此，第一部分乐章结束了。 这音乐不长也不短。其实，它和时间一点关系都没有。米克坐在那里，双手紧紧地抱着腿，嘴巴用力咬着她那咸咸的膝盖。她可能听了五分钟，也可能听了半个晚上。第二部分乐章是黑色的，是节奏缓慢的进行曲。虽不悲伤，但像是整个世界都死了，变成了黑色，不必再回头去想死亡以前的世界。一种号角乐器演奏着清幽、悲伤的旋律。跟着，音乐声愤然扬起，底下却激荡着兴奋的曲调。最后，黑色的进行曲再度响起。 也许这交响乐的最后部分才是她最喜欢的——曲调欢快，犹如世界上最伟大的人在奔跑，以一种艰难、自由的方式在跳跃。这种美妙的音乐才是人世间最痛苦的东西。整个世界就是这交响乐，她怎么也听不够。 终于结束了，她抱着膝盖，纹丝不动地坐在那里。收音机开始播放另一个节目，她捂住耳朵。刚才的音乐只是让她痛苦和空虚。这会儿，她已经完全不记得交响乐的任何乐章，连最后几个音符都忘了。她努力回忆着，那些声音却再也没有回来。终于结束了，唯有她那像兔子一样蹦跳的心脏，以及那可怕的伤痛。 收音机关了，屋子里的灯也都熄灭了。夜如墨染。米克突然用拳头捶向大腿。她用尽全身力气击打同一块肌肉，直到眼泪顺着面颊滑落。但她仍然觉得力道不够。灌木丛下有锋利的石头，她抓起一把石子，在同一个部位摩擦，直到手里渗出血来。然后她四仰八叉地躺在地上，仰望夜空。大腿上锥心的痛让她的心情好过些了。她软绵绵地躺在潮湿的草地上，过了一会儿，她的呼吸终于舒缓下来。 为什么那些探索者不看看天空？如此便知道地球是圆的了。天空是弯曲的，如同一个巨大的玻璃球内侧，深蓝色的天空星光闪烁。夜晚是那样的宁静，弥漫雪松温暖的气味。她试着没去想音乐的时候，音乐却回来了。乐章的第一部分重新出现在她的脑海里，就跟刚才演奏的时候一样。她不急不慢、安静地听着，就像解几何题一样，这样才能记住。她真真切切地看到了声音的形状，不会再忘。 现在她感觉很好，她把本来耳语的声音大声说了出来。“主啊，饶恕我吧，因为我不知道做了什么。”她为什么会想到这句话？过去几年，所有人都知道所谓的上帝根本不存在。她想起心以前心目中上帝的模样时，脑子里出现的却是辛格先生裹着长长的白色床单时的样子。上帝从不说话——也许她这才把辛格先生当成了上帝。她把刚才的话又说了一遍，像在正对着辛格先生说话：“主啊，饶恕我吧，因为我不知道做了什么。” 这部分乐章美妙、清晰。只要她愿意，随时都可以唱出来。也许在将来的某个早晨，她刚刚醒来便会记起更多的曲调。要是她还能将这首交响乐再听一遍，准会记起更多的乐章。要是她能再听四遍，四遍就够了，也许就都记住了。Maybe. 她又听了一遍开头的乐章。音符越加舒缓，她感到自己正慢慢地沉入黑魆魆的地下。 米克陡然惊醒。空气变得冰凉。快要醒来时，她梦见老埃塔·凯利把所有铺盖都卷走了。“把毯子给我……”她想这么说来着。跟着，她睁开眼睛。天空一片漆黑，所有的星星都不见了。草地上湿漉漉的。她一骨碌爬了起来，害怕爸爸担心。然后她又记起来那首交响乐，也分不清现在是午夜还是凌晨三点。她撒开脚丫子，急急忙忙往家里赶。空气中弥漫着秋天的味道。脑子里的音乐声响亮而急促，她向着家的方向，在人行道上越跑越快。