Chapter 4 IV
Smoky dressed for the wedding one summer morning.It was a white suit of yellowed linen or alpaca that his father had always claimed belonged to President Harry Truman, with his initials embroidered on the inside pocket: HST.It wasn't until it was time to consider a wedding dress (the dress had to be old) that Smoky realized that the initials could have been someone else's name, but that his father had joked about it all his life, even in the grave Hold on and don't laugh.Smoky was no stranger to this feeling.He wondered if he had been educated out of the same kind of posthumous humor. (Revenge on his cheating mother?) Even though he can joke himself, he feels a bit lost as he stands in front of the bathroom mirror buttoning his cuff buttons, wishing his father had given him man-to-man man-to-man. Some wedding and marriage advice.Barnaby had always hated weddings, funerals, and baptisms, and whenever they happened, he packed up his socks, books, dog, and son, and moved quickly.Smokey had been to Franz Maus's wedding party, dancing with the bright-eyed bride (and she made him a startling proposal), but it was Maus's wedding after all, and the two were now separated.He knew he had to prepare a ring, so he patted the ring pocket.He thought there should be a best man, but when he wrote to tell Delly Alice of the idea, she wrote back that they didn't believe in the best man thing.As for the preview, she replied, "Don't you want it to be a surprise?" The only thing he was sure of was that he couldn't see the bride until her father walked her down the aisle (what red carpet?).So he shouldn't (and didn't) even peek in the direction of her room when going to the bathroom (although he's totally mistaken where her room is).His white loafers peeked out from under his white trouser legs, looking bulky and informal.
He was told the wedding would be "outdoors" and that his eldest great-aunt, Claude, would take him to the venue.Smokey speculated that it was a church, and Aunt Claude said again in her surprised tone, yes, it must be a church.When Smoky finally came shyly out of the bathroom, it was Aunt Claude who was waiting for him at the top of the stairs.She was large and calm, and in a June dress with a bouquet of late-blooming violets pinned to her breast and a cane in her hand, Smoky felt reassured.She wore the same dusty, durable shoes as he. "Fine, fine," she said, as if a hope had been confirmed.She looked him up and down through the blue glasses for a moment, then took his hand.
"I often think landscape gardeners have patience," said Aunt Claude, as they traversed the sedge she called the park. "My father planted some of these trees from seedlings, and he Can imagine the aftermath and know I won't live to see it all. Look at that beech tree, I could almost wrap my arms around it when I was young. Did you know? Landscape gardening is trending too (very long trend, because landscape It takes a long time to grow). Rhododendron, I used to call it curly flowers when I was a child, and I helped those Italians plant flowers. Because it was too difficult to maintain order, it fell out of fashion later, and there were no Italians to help us trim it, so the longer they grow More mess, and then—ouch! Watch your eyes.
"You see, the original design is like this. If you look in this direction from the current walled garden, you can see many vistas, all kinds of tree species, all selected for aesthetics, it looks like a group of foreign countries. The envoys are meeting at the embassy, and among the trees are short clipped lawns, flower beds and fountains. It seems that at any moment a hunting party may appear, with lords and ladies, and eagles on their hands. Look now! It has not been taken care of for forty years. You can still see the original layout and appearance, but it feels like reading a letter, oh...a letter from a long time ago, it has been raining for a long time, and the handwriting is blurred I don't know if he'll be upset. He's a man of order. See? That statue is called the 'Fun'. How long before it gets eaten by vines and brought down by moles? Well, he can Forgive me, it's not without reason. No one wants to interfere with how they like it."
"Mole or something."
"The statue is nothing but marble."
"You might be able to pull these -- ouch! -- these thorns up."
She looked at him as if he had accidentally reminded her of something.She cleared her throat and patted her chest. "This is Auberon's lane," she said, "to the summer house. It's not the most direct way, but Auberon should see you."
"right?"
The so-called summer house is two round red brick towers, as thick and short as two big toes, with a foot stuck in the middle, and there are many battlements.Was it deliberately built into ruins?Or is this really a ruin?The windows are disproportionately large, vaulted in the form of window blinds. "Before," said Aunt Claude, "you could see this place from the house. Everyone thought it was very romantic here on a moonlit night... Auberon was my mother's son, but not my father's." Well, he's my half-brother. A few years older than me. He's been our teacher for a few years, but he's not in good health, he's been... oh, he hasn't been out of the summer house for a year, has he? Really Pity... Auberon!"
Taking a closer look, he found signs of human habitation all around the place, including toilets, a well-groomed vegetable garden, a tool room, and a lawnmower on standby.There was an old screen door over the central jagged door, and a boarded-up staircase, and a striped canvas lounge chair sat in the sun, next to the bird's waterbowl.On the chair lay a little old man who started up when his name was called, or at least got up restlessly (he seemed to be bent over by his suspenders).He fled towards the house, but his movement was very slow, and Aunt Claude blocked him. "This is Smoky Barnaby, and he's marrying Delly Alice today. Come and say hi anyway." She shook her head to let Smoky know she was impatient, and dragged him into the yard.
With nowhere to run, Auberon turned back at the door with a welcoming smile and held out a hand. "Well, welcome, welcome, uh-huh." He giggled absently, like an ailing old man concentrating on his fading organs.He held out his hand to Smoky, but before their hands had even touched he sat back on the couch and waved for Smoky to sit on the bench next to him.Why did Smoky feel that the sun had changed color as soon as he entered this courtyard?Aunt Claude sat down beside her brother, and Auberon took her hand. "Okay, what's the matter?" She said indulgently.
"Don't mention it," he whispered, "don't be in..."
"He's family," said Aunt Claude, "from today."
Auberon looked at Smoky, still smiling silently.No shelter!That's how Smoky felt.Something had been there when they were in the woods, but as soon as they stepped into the yard it was gone; they were out of something. "It's easy to test." Auberon said, patting his own bony knee and standing up.He rubbed his fingers and went inside.
"It's not easy." Aunt Claude murmured to herself looking at the cloudless sky.She is not as comfortable as before.She cleared her throat again and gazed at the gray birdbath, with statues of leprechauns and elves on the base, bearded faces, as if preparing to move the basin.Aunt Claude sighed.She glanced at the small gold watch on her chest.There are a pair of curved small wings on both sides of the watch.time flies.She looked at Smoky with a guilty smile.
"Come on, aha, aha!" Auberon came out with a huge camera covered in a black cloth. "Oh, Auberon," said Aunt Claude, not impatiently, but just because she didn't think it was necessary, and she didn't have much enthusiasm for it.But Auberon had already thrust the pointy stand into the ground beside Smoky, adjusted the shin so it stood up straight, and pointed the terracotta camera obscura at Smoky.
The last picture Auberon took later sat for years on a table in the summer house, next to his magnifying glass.It was Smoky, in his Truman suit gleaming in the sun, with fiery hair and half his face overexposed.There are also Aunt Claude's elbows and earrings.And the birdbath: Does the statue on the soapstone have an extra face?Is there an extra arm supporting the basin?Auberon's research had been inconclusive, and years later when one of Smoky's sons dusted off the old photograph and resumed Auberon's work, it was still inconclusive.It proved nothing, it was just a piece of silver gelatin blackened in the old midsummer sun.
They walked around the summer house, down a sunken path, and soon entered a tangled, sleeping, damp wood, like the kind that grows to hide Sleeping Beauty.They hadn't been in long before there was a rustling or a murmur beside them, and to Smoky's surprise a man suddenly appeared on the path ahead. "Good morning, Rudy," said Aunt Claude. "This is the groom. Smoky, this is Rudy Flood." Rudy's hat looked crooked from a fight. Rudy's broad, bearded face looked frank with the raised brim of his hat.His green coat was open, revealing his big belly, and held his white shirt tight. "Where's Rory?" Aunt Claude asked.
"In the back." He grinned at Smoky, as if the two shared a tacit joke.His petite wife, Rory Flood, appeared just as quickly as he did, along with a tall girl in baggy jeans, cradling a gigantic fist-wielding baby in her arms. "This is Betsy Bird," said Aunt Crowder, "Robin. Phil Fox is here, and two of my cousins, Ive and Walter of the Stones, whose mother is Crow People from the De family." More people appeared on both sides of the path.The path was narrow, and the wedding guests advanced in pairs, stepping back or catching up to bless Smoky. "Charles Wayne," said Aunt Crowder, "Hannah Nunn. What about the Lakers? And the Woodses?"
The path led to a vast sloping marsh, and beside it was a dark lake, as calm as a moat, surrounding an island of old trees.The leaves were floating on the water, and the frogs fled as they stepped down the puddles.Smoky remembered the guide book. "It's a big estate indeed," he said.
"It's going to get bigger the further you go in," said Hannah Nunn. "Have you seen my son Sonny?"
A small boat came across the lake, causing ripples.The prow was carved in the shape of a swan, but it was gray and eyeless, like the black swan on the black lake in the northern tales.The boat docked, the oarlocks rattling, and Smoky was pushed forward to join Aunt Claude, who was still introducing the laughing guests. "Hannah's a distant relation," she said. "Her grandfather's name was Bush, and her great-aunt married Mrs. Drinkwater's uncle, a Dale..." She noticed that he was nodding mechanically, but Not listening.She smiled and held his hand.The shady lake island seemed to be made of kaleidoscopic green glass, with myrtle growing on its gently rolling slopes.In the center of the island was a circular gazebo, with columns as slender as an arm, and above it a soft dome covered with garlands of green garlands.A tall girl in white stood with them, holding a bouquet of flowers tied with ribbons.
Everyone hurriedly helped them climb down the leaky swan boat.There were crowds all over the island, unpacking picnic baskets and soothing shouting children, but few seemed to notice Smoky's arrival. "Look who's coming, Claude," said a slender, chinless man who reminded Smoky of a poet who's been disfigured by a guidebook. "It's Dr. Ward! Where did you go? Doctor! Is there still champagne?" Dr. Ward, wearing a tight black suit with stubble on his face, looked as if he was greatly frightened, and the glass filled with golden champagne trembled Incessantly, bubbles bubbled up. "Nice to meet you, Doctor," said Aunt Claude. "I don't think we can guarantee a miracle. Oh, calm down, you bastard!" Dr. Ward tried to speak, but choked and was out of breath. . "Who's going to give him a pat on the back? He's not our priest," Aunt Claude told Smoky secretly. "They're from the outside world and always nervous. It's a miracle we'll get married or buried. This is Sarah Pink, and the little Pinkies. Hello. Are you ready?" She took Smoky's hand.As they walked down the flagstones to the terrace, the harmonium sounded like weeping, a music he had never heard, but which seemed to fill him with sudden longing.The wedding guests gathered at the music, whispering; and when Smoky reached the low, worn-out steps of the gazebo, Dr. Ward arrived, looking around, and fished a book from his pocket.Smoky saw Mum and Dr. Drinkwater, and Sophie was standing behind Delly Alice with the bouquet.Dai Li Alice looked at him without a smile on her face, as if she didn't know him.They made him stand beside her.His hands first tried to get in his pockets, then stopped, clasped them behind his back, then moved to the front again.Dr. Ward turned the pages of the book and began to speak rapidly, interspersed with hiccups, shudders, and harmonium melodies, which sounded something like this: "Would you (hiccup) marry this Miss Delly Alice For your legal wife, no matter good times or bad times, health, sickness, rich or poor, high or low, love her till she dies?" Then he raised his head inquiringly.
"I will," said Smoky.
"Me too," said Delly Alice.
"Here's the ring," said Dr. Ward. "Now let the bridegroom throw the bride."
Ah... All the guests let out an exclamation, and then began to disperse, talking in low voices.
There was a game she used to play with Sophie in the long corridors of Edgewood: get as far apart as possible while still being able to see each other.Then they would walk slowly and carefully together, never taking their eyes off each other's faces.They moved forward in sync, trying not to laugh until their noses touched.It was sort of like that with Smoky, but he was coming from far away, too far out of sight, from the big city—no, it should be farther, toward her from where she had never been come.When he boarded the swan boat, she could cover him with just a thumb.But as the boat came closer (Phil Flower was rowing), she could see his face and knew it was really him.He disappeared by the water for a moment, and then there were murmurs of anticipation and gratitude all around her.He reappeared, led by Aunt Claude, bigger and bigger, the creases of his knees, the thick palms of her beloved hands.His figure grew larger and larger.There are violets in the buttons.She saw his Adam's apple moving, and the music came at this moment.When he came up the gazebo steps, she could not see his feet if she looked at his face, which she did.For a moment everything around his face darkened and blurred, his face approaching her like a smiling pale moon.He walked up the steps and stood beside her.Their noses did not touch each other.Only later.Chances are it will take years, maybe never.After all, their marriage was for "convenience", but she never, never will, is or will never have to tell him this, because as the cards show, she already knows at this moment that she must marry him, regardless of the cards Whether or not the chosen one was him, regardless of whether those who gave her this marriage had changed their minds now.She was willing to rebel against them in order to have him.Besides, they were the ones who decided to send her to find him in the first place!All she wanted now was to keep looking for him, to hug him and explore him, but the stupid priest started babbling.She was suddenly annoyed that her parents thought the guy had to come.They said it was all for Smoky's sake, but from what she knew of Smoky, she knew it wasn't necessary.Trying to listen to the man, she couldn't help but wonder how nice it would be if the wedding could be done in a nose-touching way: approaching each other from the far ends, as it used to be in the old hall.Walls and paintings kept sliding past the edge of view, only Sophie's face remained the same, only getting bigger and bigger, her eyes widened, her freckles expanded, and she became a planet, then a moon, then a sun, and then There's nothing to see but the straight-on face, huge eyes that turn cross-eyed just before their noses slam into each other.
"It's kind of unreal," he said.As he was packing the picnic basket, Mom noticed with concern the grass stains on his Truman suit. "It can't be washed off," she said.The champagne he drank seemed to make this sense of unreality acceptable, normal, even necessary.He sat there in a daze, calm and happy.Mom tied the basket, only to find a dinner plate lying on the grass.As she rearranged everything, Smoky pointed out, again with a sense of déjà vu, that she had left out a fork.Delly Alice hooked his arm.They have circled the island several times to meet their relatives and friends, and everyone is very enthusiastic. "Thank you," was said when she introduced Smoky, and it was said by others when they gave her presents.After three glasses of champagne, Smokey wondered if this pattern of talking backwards (which Aunt Claude did all the time) should not be considered an exception, but a general, er, general...she She put her head on his shoulder, and they cuddled like this. "Great," he said to himself, "what do you call an event that happens outdoors?"
"Outdoor activities?"
"Is that the word?"
"I suppose so."
"are you happy?"
"I suppose so."
"I am very happy."
When Franz Maus got married, he went with the bride (what was her name?) to a photo studio.In addition to the formal wedding photos, the photographer also used his own props to help them take a few more funny photos: Franz put a pulp on his leg, and encouraged the bride to take a rolling pin as a gesture of beating bridegroom.Smoky laughed when he realized there seemed to be only so much he knew about marriage.
"What's the matter?" Alice asked.
"Do you have a rolling pin?"
"You mean for rolling out noodles? Mom should have it."
"That's good." He chuckled non-stop.As the bubbles in the glass rose, a long chain of laughter rose from his diaphragm.His smile infected her too.Mom stood there with her hands on her hips shaking her head at them.Now the harmonium sounded again, and they fell silent as if a cold hand had passed over them, or a voice suddenly began to speak of some distant and sad memory.He had never heard music like this before, and he seemed to be taken by it, or rather the other way around: he was like a rough thing, grinding against the smooth, silky melody.He thought it was an exit piece, but couldn't remember how he knew the word.But it seems that it is not he and his bride who should exit, but others.Mom let out a long sigh, and fell silent like the whole island.She took up the picnic basket and motioned Smoky to get up, as he had risen reluctantly to help her.She kissed them both, and turned away smiling.There were giggles and a distant call as the rest of the island moved towards the water's edge.He saw the beautiful Sarah Pink board the swan boat on the shore, and others waited to board and leave, some with wine glasses, one with a guitar on his shoulder, and Rudy Flood waving with a green wine bottle.Although everyone was happy to leave, the music and the setting sun filled the scene with sadness, as if they were leaving the happy island for a less happy place, and had to wait until they were gone to realize their loss.
Smoky set his almost empty glass on one side on the grass, and feeling himself covered in music from head to toe, rolled over and rested his head on Delly Alice's lap.Just then he caught a glimpse of Aunt Claude standing by the lake, talking to two people he seemed to know but couldn't immediately recognize, but he was surprised to see them here.The man pursed his lips like a fish, sucked on his pipe, and helped his wife into a small boat.
They are Maggie and Jeff Juniper.
He looked up at Delly Alice's calm and determined face, wondering why the deeper the mystery of everyday life, the less he wanted to pry. "What makes us happy," he said, "brings wisdom."
She smiled and nodded, as if to say: Yes, these ancient truths are indeed true.
Sophie left her parents as they walked through the quiet woods arm in arm.Like all parents who have just married their first child, they whisper about what happened.Sophie embarked on another unknown path, and finally ran back to the original point.The night began to fall, "falling," but rather rising from the ground, blackening the velvety undersides of the ferns.Sophie saw the daylight go by in her palm.Her hand became more and more blurred, and the bunch of flowers she still held for some reason had withered and slowly plunged into darkness.But she felt her head still floating above the rising darkness, until the path ahead was also blurred.A burst of cool night air hit her, completely engulfing her.Then he touched the noisy birds on the treetops and made them quiet one by one, leaving a silence in the air.The sky was still almost as blue as it was at noon, but the path was so dark that she nearly tripped.The first firefly appeared.She took off her shoes (bending one knee, taking a step forward, then the other) and left them on a rock without much thought, just hoping the dew wouldn't spoil the satin on them .
She didn't want to hurry, but her heart still accelerated involuntarily.The lace on her dress kept getting caught in the branches, so she considered taking it off, but she gave up.Looking in the direction she was heading, the woods were a soft, dark tunnel filled with glowworms, but looking to either side of the thinner trees, you could see a skyline that turned from blue to green like a gemstone. With a faint cloud.She also accidentally saw the roof of the house in the distance, which seemed to be getting farther and farther away with the gradually hazy air.She slowed down, heading down the tunnel into the night, a smile rising in her throat.
As she approached the island, she began to feel as though she had company.It wasn't entirely unexpected, but she was still terribly sensitive, as if she had grown fur and combed it.
The island wasn't really an island, or not much, for it was teardrop-shaped with a long tail that ran right up to the stream that fed the lake.The narrowest point of the stream just swept past the end of the teardrop-shaped island, so she could easily find stepping stones here.The stream flowed over the stones, forming a silky pillow of water that seemed to allow her to lay her burning cheeks against it.
She came to the island and stood in front of the gazebo where she was looking dreamily at other places.
Yes, they had surrounded her now, and she couldn't help thinking that their purpose was the same as hers: just to know, to see, to be sure.But their reasons are definitely different.She could not say her reasons, and theirs should have no names, but she seemed to hear a lot of murmurs without content, no doubt just the water of the stream and the humming in her own ears.She walked around the gazebo carefully and quietly, and heard a human voice, it was Alice, but she couldn't make out the content.Then there was a laugh, and she thought she understood what it was saying.A terrible, blind and dark pressure rose within her, growing heavier, but she went on, crouching quietly on a higher ground, hiding behind slick bushes and a cold stone bench.
The last green light of the evening had also faded.The pavilion seemed to have been waiting for a long time, watching the convex and round moon rise from the treetops, the moonlight sprinkled on the rippling lake, passed through the pillars and then sprinkled on the couple in the pavilion.
Delly Alice had already hung her white gown on a bush, and the sleeves and hem of the skirt fluttered from time to time in the breeze after sunset, often giving Smoky the illusion that there was someone nearby out of the corner of her eye. .The only light was the not-too-darkened sky, the fireflies, and the phosphorescent flowers, which seemed to reflect some faint glow not from the outside, but from within.He couldn't see anything under this light, he could only feel her slender body lying on the pillow beside him.
"I'm really innocent," he said, "in many ways."
"Innocence!" she said with feigned surprise (fake of course, he came here and she was by his side because of his innocence), "you're not acting innocent at all." They both laughed.That was the laughter Sophie heard. "It's shameless."
"Yeah, I don't have any shame either. I guess it's two sides of the same coin. I've never been told what to be ashamed of. Or to be afraid of—and that's not something to be taught. But I've gotten over that." Via You, he almost said it. "I've lived under protection all my life."
"me too."
But Smokey felt that if Delly Alice could describe her life in the same words, then his own life was not protected at all.If her life was protected, his was naked—and he felt it. "I never had a childhood...unlike you. In a way, I was never a son. I mean I was a child, but not a son..."
"Well," she said, "then my childhood is for you, if you want."
"Thank you," he said.And he really wanted it, all of it, not for a second. "Thank you."
the moon rises.Through the sudden moonlight, he saw her standing up, stretching as if she had just finished a coolie, leaning against the pillar, caressing herself absently, while looking at the tangled black tree shadows on the other side of the lake.Her slender muscle lines are silvery white under the moonlight, as if it is not real (but it is so real, he is still trembling slightly because he was pressed by her just now).She raises her arms against the pillar, raising the line of her chest and shoulder blades.She supports her weight with one foot straight, and the other foot is slightly bent. Her round buttocks are a pair of tight and well-proportioned hemispheres.Smoky noticed everything in front of him with extreme precision, not receiving it sensory, but capturing it unreservedly.
"My earliest memory," she said, as if beginning to cash in on the gift he had just been promised, which might as well have been irrelevant (he took it anyway), "is my earliest memory of a face hanging in the window of my room. It was a summer night and the window was open. There was a yellow face outside the window, round and shiny. It grinned and its eyes were piercing. It looked at me with interest. I remember smiling because it looked evil, but Smile, it makes me want to laugh. Then there are hands on the windowsill, and the face, I mean the owner of the face, seems to be crawling in through the window. I still don't get scared. I hear laughter, so I laughed too. At that moment, my father came into the room, so I turned my head away, and when I turned back again the face was gone. I later told my father about it, and he said the face was The moon outside the window, the hand on the window sill is the curtain fluttering in the breeze, and when I turned back, the cloud had covered the moon."
"Eighty percent."
"That's what he saw."
"I mean it's quite possible..."
"What you want," she said, turning to face him, "whose childhood is it?" Her hair was shining like fire in the moonlight, her face was a dull blue, and for a second she looked nothing like She herself is really scary.
"What I want now is yours."
"Now?"
"Come here."
She smiled, came over and knelt on the pillow with him, her body had cooled under the moonlight, but she was still intact.
Sophie watched them make love.She felt strongly and definitely the emotions that Smoky had caused in her sister, but they were emotions that Delly Alice had never experienced before.She saw clearly what made her sister's brown eyes harden, or light up: she saw it all.It was as if Delly Alice were made of some kind of dark glass that had always been translucent, but was now completely transparent under the light of Smoky's blazing love, without any detail at all. Fee couldn't see it.She heard them talking (just a few words), each word ringing like crystal bells.She seemed to be breathing with her sister, and as the breathing became more and more rapid, Alice was illuminated more clearly by the flame inside her.It was a strange form of possession, and Sophie couldn't tell whether the breathless frenzy was pain, audacity, shame, or what.She knew it was impossible for her to look away, and even if she did, she could still see it, and it was just as clear.
But during this time Sophie was sleeping.
In that sleep (she was familiar with every sleep, but could not name any), your eyelids seemed to become transparent, so that through them you continued to look at the scene before your eyes closed.It's the same picture, but different.Before she closed her eyes, Sophie knew (or sensed) that someone else was spying on the union.In dreams, they are very specific.They peered over her head and shoulders, slinked closer to the arbor, and lifted the little child atop the myrtle tree to watch the spectacle.They flapped their wings and hovered in the air, ecstatic.Their murmurs did not disturb Sophie, for their interest, though as strong as hers, was quite different.She felt like she was taking a desperate risk, not sure whether she would drown in those conflicting amazement, passion, shame and suffocating love, but she knew that the creatures around her were just urging the two of them to accomplish one thing (no, it should Encouragement from the side), that thing is "carrying on the family line".
A clumsy beetle rattled past Sophie's ear, waking her up.
The creatures around her were much dimmer than she had seen in her dreams: buzzing gnats and glowing fireflies, and in the distance a nighthawk preying on bats with rubbery wings.
The gazebo in the distance looks pale and mysterious in the moonlight.She felt as if she had glimpsed the movement of their limbs.But there was no sound; no movement of any kind, not even a guess.A silence of total privacy.
Why was this more painful to her than what she had witnessed in her dream?
It was a feeling of being left out.Even if she couldn't see them now, the feeling of being sacrificed by them was as strong as in the dream just now, and she was also not sure if she could bear it.
Jealousy is waking envy.No, words can't be said that way either.She never took anything as her own, and people only feel jealous when something is taken from them.Jealousy wasn't betrayal either, she'd known it from the beginning (and knew it better now than they ever imagined), and betrayal was only possible with lies and liars.
It should be envy.But who is envious?Alice?Smoky?Or both?
She couldn't tell.She only knew that she was in love and pain, as if she had just swallowed burning coals.
She left quietly, and other creatures should do the same, only more quietly.
The creek that flows into the lake descends like a long staircase, its source is a wide pool, and beside the pool is a towering waterfall, pouring down from among the trees.
Ribbons of moonlight shone on the smooth, silky surface of the pool, twisting and breaking in the water.Stars are reflected on the surface of the water, floating up and down with the ripples caused by the waterfall.This is how it looks from the pool.But for a giant white trout that was almost asleep inside, the scenery was very different.
sleep?Yes, even without crying, fish do sleep.Their strongest emotion is panic, and their saddest emotion is bitter regret.They dream with their eyes open, cold dreams projected in the black-green water.For Grandpa Trout, the living water and familiar surroundings fade and emerge as sleep comes and goes; when the pond fades, he sees within.Fish usually dream about the waters they are in when they are awake, but Grandpa Trout is different.It was not dreaming of trout streams at all, but its whole existence became a fiction because the watery homeland floated before its eyelidless eyes.Every time the gills are moved, it is a dream full of sleepiness.
你若是一条鱼，最棒的生活环境莫过于此。瀑布不断将空气打入水中，因此连呼吸都是享受，恍如置身阿尔卑斯山高耸清新的草原上（假如你不是住在水中）。他们为它提供的这片环境真是太善良体贴了（假如他们确曾考虑过它或他人的幸福与舒适）。这里没有捕食者，竞争者也不多，因为上游跟下游都是多岩的浅溪（虽然一条鱼不大可能知道这点），所以不会有任何体型能跟它匹敌的东西进到这座池塘来，跟它争夺从上方那茂密的树林里掉下来的虫子。他们确实设想周到，倘若他们真曾想过。
然而（它若不是自愿的），这该会是多么适切而严厉的惩罚，多么痛苦的放逐。受困于这液态玻璃中不得呼吸的它，是否注定永远这样游来游去、咬着蚊子？它想对一条鱼而言，那滋味应该就是最美味的梦中佳肴。但你若不是条鱼，这又是什么样的记忆？只是不断吞食一滴滴苦涩的鲜血而已。
说不定就另一方面而言，这一切不过是个故事。不论它这条鱼看起来多么心满意足，或不论它如何心不甘情不愿地习惯了这一切，每隔一段时间都会有个美丽身影出现，往彩虹般的水中窥探，说出一些她铤而走险从邪恶的守密者口中套出来的话。此时它就会从水中一跃而出（踢着腿、高贵的衣袍全部湿透），喘着大气站在她面前，恢复了原形、破除了魔咒，令坏仙女受挫哭泣。一想到这里，它面前的水中突然浮现一个彩色画面：一条戴着假发、穿着高领外套的鱼张着大嘴站在那儿，腋下夹着一封硕大的信。在空气里。这噩梦般的影像一出现（从哪里来的？），它的鳃就会倒抽一口气，暂时清醒过来。Everything is back to normal.全是一场梦。有那么一会儿，它心怀感激，只想着毫无异状、满是月光的水，别无其他。
当然（它再次陷入梦境）要把自己想象成他们的一员也是可以的，一个守密者、诅咒者、邪恶的操控者，基于某些微妙的理由，将它那永恒的神奇智慧藏在鱼的平凡外表之下。永恒，姑且如此假设吧：它确实活过几近无穷的岁月，一直活到了现在（假设当下就是现在，梦愈来愈深沉）；它的年龄已经超越了一条鱼的寿命，甚至超越了一个王子的寿命。它觉得自己仿佛往后（或往前？）朝着最初（或最终？）无限延伸，忽然想不起自己心中念念不忘的那些伟大故事究竟还没发生，还是已经发生过了。但话说回来，也许秘密就是这样保存的、古老的故事就是这样流传的、无法破除的魔咒就是这样形成的……
No.他们知道真相。他们不做猜想。它想起他们身上那种笃定感，一张张诉说真相的脸与一只只指派任务的手，平静、毫无表情而美丽，像陷入喉咙深处的鱼钩一样无法抗拒。它像条小鱼般无知。它一无所知，也不想知道——就算他们愿意回答，它也不想去问：八月某一天夜里，是否曾有一个年轻人站在那干燥的岩石上。如同这座水潭曾经突遭雷击，那个年轻人也这样突然变形。想必是因为冒犯了谁，你们有你们的理由，别误会我，这跟我无关。就当作这些记忆都是男子自己的幻想吧。幻想他唯一的最终记忆就是失水窒息地喘着气，手脚突然黏在一起、在空气里抽搐（空气！），而跳进那清凉甘美的水中时，感受到的是一种恐怖的得救感。那才是他的归属，他也永远离不开了。
他现在已想不起发生这一切的起因。他只能在梦中假想这一切确实发生过。
他究竟对你们做了什么伤天害理的事？
就只是因为“故事”需要一个中间人吗？一个皮条客，而他刚好路过被逮住？
为什么我想不起自己的罪孽？
但此时鳟鱼爷爷已经熟睡，因为它只有睡着时才能做出这一切假设。它睁开的双眼视而不见，四周都是水，但也很遥远。鳟鱼爷爷梦见自己去钓鱼。
Notes:
Notes: