Chapter 9 IV
"Christmas," said Dr. Drinkwater, sliding his rosy face steadily towards Smoky, "is not like any other day. It doesn't seem to follow the days before, if you understand me meaning." He slid expertly toward Smoky and then away again, making long circular tracks.Smoky, who was leaning forward and backward, thought he should understand. He raised his hands flat in the air, instead of clasping them neatly behind his back like the doctor did.Delly Alice slipped smoothly past him with her hands in a battered leather muff.She took one look at him who was making no progress, and then made a mocking swoop as she slid away, purely for bad taste.But he didn't see it, because he couldn't seem to take his eyes off his feet.
"I mean," said Dr. Drinkwater, reappearing beside him, "that every Christmas seems to follow the previous Christmas, and the months in between don't count. Christmas doesn't follow the autumn that preceded it, It followed the previous Christmas."
"That's right," said Mom, gliding around solemnly.She dragged her two granddaughters behind her like a big wooden duck dragging a smaller one. "It seems like one Christmas is just over and the next one is coming."
"Hmm," said the doctor, "that's not exactly what I meant." He swerved like a fighter jet and took Sophie's hand. "How are the little ones?" Smoky heard him say, and she laughed, and they both spun away sideways.
"Improvement every year," said Smoky, turning away suddenly involuntarily.He's back on the path of Delly Alice.It was bound to collide, but there was nothing he could do.He wished he had a pillow strapped to his ass, like a funny postcard.Alice's figure grew bigger and bigger, and then stopped instantly skillfully.
"Do you think Tessie and Lily should be allowed in?" she asked.
"I'll leave it to you," said Mom, pulling their sled past again.The girls' round faces were covered in fur, rosy and bright as wild berries, but they were gone in a second, and so was Alice.Let the woman decide, he thought.He had to learn the simple tricks of moving forward, but it made him dizzy with them coming and going around him like this. "Hey," he said, and nearly failed again, but Sophie suddenly appeared behind him and gave him a helping hand, pushing him forward. "How are you doing?" he said absent-mindedly, as if greeting each other was the way to go.
"Infidelity," she said.These cold words condensed into a small mist in the air.
Smoky's left ankle twitched, but the right slipped out on its own.He spun around and fell hard on the ice, hitting the tailbone directly for a man with little flesh in his butt.Sophie circled him, laughing so hard she almost fell over.
Just sit here and wait for your ass to freeze, Smoky thought.Grabbed by the ice like a tree root, until it melted...
Last week's snow didn't pile up, it only fell overnight, and the next morning it was pouring rain.George Mouse walked away through the mud with blank eyes and a puzzled expression, and everyone thought he had Sophie's virus.The rain poured down like unstoppable tears, flooding the broad lawn where the Sphinx silently crumbled.Then the temperature plummeted, so that on Christmas Eve morning the world was iron gray, covered with shiny ice, and the sky was the same iron gray, except for the sun forming a white halo behind the clouds.The lawn was hard enough for ice skating, and the house looked like a miniature house on a model railroad, set beside a pond made of tiny mirrors.
Sophie was still circling around him.He said, "What do you mean? Infidelity?"
She just smiled mysteriously, helped him up, then turned around and slid away with a mysterious movement.Although he saw it in his eyes, he couldn't learn how to do it.
According to an unalterable law, if one skate is going forward, the other must slide backward.If he can figure out exactly how others overcome this law, he should make great progress.He seems to be able to swipe and slide in place all the time, and he is the only person on the scene who obeys Newton's laws.until he fell.There is no eternal motion.But at this moment, he suddenly grasped the knack, so he slid across the ice on his already numb buttocks to the front porch steps.Aunt Claude sat majestically on a blanket on the steps, guarding her boots and thermos.
"What about the snow they promised?" He asked, but Aunt Claude also showed a mysterious smile.He unscrewed the thermos, took off the lid, poured lemon tea mixed with rum into the cup hidden in the lid, and poured a glass for Aunt Claude as well.He drank the hot tea, the steam easing the chill in his nostrils.He felt a bleak and brash dissatisfaction.Unfaithful!Is she joking?Years ago, when he first slept with Delly Alice, he had received a priceless gift from her, but when he tried to put it around Sophie's neck, it turned black like a pearl, and then Ashes to ashes.He'd never known Sophie's feelings, but he couldn't believe that Sophie didn't know (although he'd heard it from Delly Alice): she was struggling, confused, and just as dazed as he was indistinct.So he just watched her come and go with an apparent will, and then speculated, imagined, assumed for himself.
She slid across the lawn with her hands behind her back, then turned and slid toward the front porch.She turned around the edge of the frozen pond, pausing to goug a splash of shards of ice at her feet.She sat down beside Smoky, took the cup of tea from his hand, still panting slightly.Smoky found something in her hair, a small flower, or a flower-shaped jewel.He looked closer and found that it was a snowflake, so complete and beautiful that he could even count the corners and distinguish the different parts.He just said "it's a snowflake," and immediately another fell beside it, and another.
Every family has a different way of letting Santa know their wishes at Christmas.Many people send letters in advance, and write the address to the North Pole.Of course, none of these will be delivered. Postmen have their own whimsical ways to deal with these mails, but they will never be delivered.
The Drinkwaters have always used another method, but no one remembers how it was conceived.They wrote the messages on paper and burned them in the stove in the study.The blue tiles of the stove, with skaters, windmills and prey, seemed fitting, and it had the tallest chimney.That's when the smoke drifts toward the North Pole (the kids are always clamoring to run out to see it), or at least drifts into the atmosphere for Santa to decipher.It's a complicated process, but it seems to work, and the run time must have been Christmas Eve, because that's when the wills are strongest.
Confidentiality is important, at least for grown-up letters.The kids couldn't resist telling everyone what they wanted, and Lily and Tessie's letters would have to be written by someone else.Plus they have to be reminded of their own wishes, because as Christmas approaches they tend to grow smaller and slip through the rough webs of youthful desire.Don't you want to find Teddy a brother (a bear)?Do you still want a shotgun like your grandpa?Want double-bladed skates?
But these things are said to be up to adults to decide for themselves.
In the expectant afternoon of that frozen Christmas Eve, Delly Alice tucked her legs up in a huge armchair and placed a folding chessboard on it to serve as a desk. "Dear Santa Claus," she wrote, "please give me a new thermos, any color, as long as it is not boiled pink. And a jade like Aunt Claude's." Ring, I want to wear it on my right middle finger." She thought for a while.In the fading daylight, she could barely see snow falling on the gray ground. "And a patchwork gown," she wrote, "to ankle length. And a pair of fur slippers. I also hope the baby will be better than the two sisters. If you can do that, nothing else will be So important. Candy ribbons are delicious, and they're all out of stock now. Thank you in advance, Alice Barnaby (sister)." She'd raised it that way since she was a kid, just to avoid confusion.She looked hesitantly at the little blue note paper, which was almost filled with these few wishes. "P.S.," she wrote, "my sister ran off somewhere with my husband and I would be grateful if you could bring them back. ADB pen."
She folded the note absently.In the eerie silence, she could hear her father's typewriter.Aunt Claude sat at the drum-shaped table, resting her chin and writing with a very short pencil. Her eyes were moist, probably from tears, but recently her eyes often seemed cloudy, probably because of old age.Alice looked up, her head resting on the soft back of the chair.
Upstairs, Smoky sat down in the imaginary study after drinking his rum tea, and began to write a letter.He ruined a piece of paper because the precarious desk wobbled under the careful tip of his pen, so he put a matchbox under the foot of it and started again.
"Dear Santa, I thought I'd start by explaining my wish for last year. I'm not going to make excuses that I was a bit drunk then (though that's true) and I'm just as drunk now (it's turned into Christmas I got used to it, because everything about Christmas becomes a habit, you must know). Anyway, if my request at that time frightened you or drained your strength, then I apologize. I was just Just trying to vent a little bit rudely. I know (I mean I guess) you can't give one person to another, but the truth is my wish came true. Maybe that's because I was only thinking about it I don’t know if I should thank you or not. I mean, I don’t know if you made it happen, and I don’t know if I appreciate it.”
He bit the barrel of his pen, thinking of going into Sophie's room last Christmas morning to wake her up.As it was so early (Tessie couldn't wait), it was still dark outside the window.He didn't know whether to tell the whole story.He never told anyone, but because of the extreme secrecy of the soon-to-be-burned letter, he couldn't help but feel a little tempted to reveal everything.But no.
The doctor was right that Christmas follows the previous Christmas, not the days that preceded it.Smoky had seen this clearly for the past few days.Not because the rituals are all the same: bringing back the Christmas tree in a sleigh, tenderly pulling out antique ornaments, hanging druid greenery on the lintel.It's just that since Christmas last year, his whole body has been filled with strong emotions. This emotion has nothing to do with Christmas. After all, he was never as fascinated by this day as he was when he was a child than Halloween.He wears a distinctive mask (pirate, clown) on Halloween and wanders through the smoky night with a campfire lit.But he knew that from now on, every season he would be overwhelmed by this emotion, just like the earth is covered by snow.The reason is her, not Santa Claus.
"Anyway," he began again, "my wishes for this year are a bit vague. I want a machine for sharpening old lawnmower blades. I want to get back the missing copy of Gibbon's Complete Works (p. Two volumes), someone probably used it as a doorstop and lost it." He wanted to attach the publishing house and date, but felt a sense of silent powerlessness, sinking deeper and deeper. "Santa Claus," he writes, "I just want to have one personality, I don't want a whole bunch of personalities, and as long as people look at me," (he's thinking of Sophie, and Alice, Claude Aunt, doctor, mother, and above all Alice.) "Half my personality wants to turn around and run away. I want to be brave and honest about my responsibilities. I don't want to stay out of it and let a bunch of devious fictional characters live for me. "He stopped writing and found that his handwriting had become extremely scribbled.He was hesitant about what concluding words to use. He originally wanted to write "Sincerely", but felt that it might be a bit sarcastic, so he finally imitated his father and just wrote "Sincerely", which sounded vague and calm.who cares!He signed: Ivan S. Barnaby.
They were already gathered in the downstairs study with their eggnog and their letters.The doctor folded his letter like a real one, the back of which was bumpy from too much punctuation.Mom's stationery was torn from a brown paper bag, much like a shopping list.They were all consumed by the fire, except that Lily's letter didn't burn at first, because she screamed and tried to throw it into the stove, but there was no way to throw away such things as paper (as she got older Bigger, more graceful and smarter, she'll learn that).Tessie insisted on going out to see.So Smoky took her by the hand, and put Lily on his shoulders, and together they went outside to watch the smoke go away.The falling snowflakes were ghostly in the house lights and melted in the rising smoke.
Santa took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his sore nose with his fingers as he received the messages.What on earth do they want from him?A shotgun, a teddy bear, snowshoes, some pretty stuff and some practical stuff... oh well.But the rest... He really couldn't understand what everyone was thinking.But it's getting late, and if they (or anyone else) are disappointed in him tomorrow, it won't be the first time.He took off the fur hat hanging on the wall, pulled on his gloves, and walked out of the house. He felt inexplicably tired before he started on the road.Under the starry night sky is a colorful polar wasteland, and the lights of billions of stars seem to make a tinkling sound.The reindeer raised their shaggy heads as he approached, making the bridles rattle, and the perennial snow rustled under his feet as his boots trod.
Shortly after Christmas, Sophie began to feel as if her body had been taken apart and repackaged in a completely different way.The sensations made her dizzy when she didn't know why, and then funny, even awe-inspiring, when she guessed.And in the end (when the process is over and the new resident is unceremoniously and fully settled), it feels comfortable: downright comfortable at times, like a new way of sleeping, but also full of anticipation.expect!That's the right word.
When Sophie finally confessed her condition to her father, he didn't have much to say, since that was how he had been born himself, after all.As a father, he had to say some harsh words, but not to the point of condemnation, and never had to wonder "what to do with it"-just thinking about when he was still in the belly of Amy Meadows If anyone had that thought, he shuddered.
"Oh, God, it's okay to have more than one person," Mom wiped away a tear, "after all, this is not the first time in history." Like everyone else, she couldn't guess who the baby's father would be, but Sophie didn't say anything , or she once lowered her eyes and said in an extremely small voice that she didn't want to reveal.Therefore, this matter was finally out of the question.
But of course Delly Alice had to be told.
The first person Sophie revealed this news and this secret was Delly Alice.Or should I say the second.
"Smoky," she said.
"Oh, Sophie," said Alice, "isn't it."
"Exactly." She said, and she stood defiantly at the door of Alice's room, unwilling to go in.
"I don't believe it, I don't believe he could."
"You'd better believe it," said Sophie, "you'd better get used to it, because it's not going away."
Alice was puzzled by Sophie's look (or maybe it was the unbelievable tragedy she was talking about). "Sophie," she said softly after they looked at each other quietly for a while, "are you asleep?"
"No." She was very unhappy.But it was still early, Sophie was still in her pajamas, and Smoky had only scratched his head an hour before getting up for school.Alice had been woken by Sophie, and because it was so unusual, so unnatural, Alice wished for a moment... that she lay back on the pillow and closed her eyes.But she herself wasn't sleeping either.
"Didn't you suspect it?" Sophie asked. "Have you never thought about it?"
"Oh, there should be." She covered her eyes with her hands, "Of course." Sophie's tone seemed to expect Alice to know.She sat up, suddenly angry. "But to make something like this! I mean you two! How can you be so stupid?"
"I guess we just can't help it," said Sophie, looking straight at her. "You know that." But she lost her nerve in Alice's presence and lowered her eyelids.
Alice pushed herself up and leaned against the headboard of the bed. "Do you have to stand there?" she said, "I'm not going to beat you." Sophie stood quietly, a little hesitant and a little scared, exactly the same as Lily when she knocked over things, and the fear of being called over was not just Just to wipe off the stains.Alice impatiently waved her over.
Sophie's bare feet stomped across the floor, making tiny noises.When she climbed into bed with an oddly shy smile, Alice noticed that she was wearing nothing under her flannel pajamas.It all reminded her of the intimate time many years ago.There were so few of us then, she thought, so much love and so few, no wonder we were all tangled together. "Does Smoky know?" she asked calmly.
"Yes," said Sophie, "I told him first."
It hurt that Smoky hadn't told her; it was the first time Sophie had felt pain since she came into the room.She thought that he was carrying the news, but she didn't know it.My heart aches when I think of it. "So what's he going to do about it?" she continued, like a catechism.
"He didn't...he didn't..."
"Well, you've got to make a decision, right? You two."
Sophie's lips began to quiver.Her courage was almost exhausted. "Oh, Alice, don't do this," she begged, "I didn't expect you to do this." She took Alice's hand, but Alice looked away and pressed the knuckles of the other hand hard. on the lips. "I mean, I know it's disgusting that we're like this," she looked at Alice's face, trying to read her expression, "it's disgusting. But Alice..."
"Oh, I don't hate you, Sophie." Although she was still looking at other places, her fingers were tightly intertwined with Sophie, as if she was unwilling but unable to control it, "It's just, oh." See Seeing Alice's inner struggle, Sophie didn't dare to speak, but just held her hand tighter to see what would happen. "Well, I thought..." She fell silent again, and then cleared her throat, trying to get the choke off, "You remember. Smoky is my man, I always thought so. I I always thought our story was like this."
"That's right." Sophie lowered her head.
"Just lately, I don't seem to remember that much. I don't remember them. I don't remember the old days. I do have memories, but it's not like... that feeling, you know what I mean? It's not like I used to be with Auberon Like when we were together."
"Oh, Alice," said Sophie, "how could you forget?"
"Aunt Claude said that when you grow up, you have to exchange what you had when you were a child for what you will have when you grow up. Even if you don't want to, you will still lose it in the end, and there is no compensation." Although the tone was stable , but tears welled up in her eyes.The tears seemed not to belong to her, but to the story she told. "So I thought, I'll trade them for Smoky then. They arranged the deal. That's all right. Because even if I forget about them, I still have Smoky," and only then did her voice tremble. "I think I'm wrong."
"No!" said Sophie, shocked as if she had heard blasphemous words.
"I guess that sort of thing is common," said Alice, with a trembling sigh, "I guess you're right, when we first got married, you said we couldn't have the kind of things that you and I used to have. Things. You said wait and see..."
"No, Alice, no!" Sophie grabbed her sister's arm, as if trying to stop her from going on. "That story is true, it was true, I always knew it. Never, never say it wasn't." Wow. That was the most beautiful story I ever heard, and it all came true, exactly as they said. Oh, I was so jealous, Alice, it was such a wonderful thing for you, And I'm so jealous..."
Alice turned to face her.Her face shocked Sophie: there were tears in her eyes, but no sadness, no anger, nothing. "Well," Alice said, "you shouldn't have anything to be jealous about now." She pulled Sophie's pajamas back from her shoulders. "Okay. We've got to figure out what to do..."
"Liar," said Sophie.
"What?" Alice looked at her in confusion. "What a lie, Sophie?"
"I lied to you, I lied to you!" It was almost a roar from the heart, "It's not Smoky at all! I lied to you!" Sophie could no longer face her sister's strange face, and buried her head in Alice's face. Sobbing loudly on the lap. "I'm sorry... I was so jealous, I wanted to be in your story, that's all. Oh, can't you see that he can't? He can't, he loves you so much. And I No, it's just me... I miss you. I miss you. I want to have a story too, I want to... oh, Alice."
The shocked Alice just patted her sister's head, subconsciously comforting her, and continued: "Wait, Sophie. Sophie, listen to me." She raised Sophie's face with both hands. "You mean you never..."
Even with tears streaming down her face, Sophie blushed. "Oh, yes. Once or twice." She held up a hand to stop Alice from speaking, "but it was all my fault, every time. He blamed himself." The hair sticking to the cheek was brushed back. "He felt very guilty every time."
"One or two times?"
"Uh, three times."
"You mean you..."
"Three...and a half." She almost giggled, wiping her face with the sheet.She sniffs. "It takes him a long time to find a solution every time, and then he has a lot of scruples, and it's almost not fun anymore."
Alice laughed in surprise, she couldn't help it.Sophie laughed when she saw her laugh, but since she was sobbing it sounded more like a sob. "So," she said, raising her hand and putting it down heavily, "that's it."
"But wait a minute," said Alice, "if it's not Smoky, who is it?
"Sophie?"
Sophie said.
"No way."
"Exactly."
"It's him! But... how can you be sure? I mean..."
Sophie wrung her fingers and listed the reasons why she was so sure.
"George Mouse," said Alice, "how could it be him? It's incest, Sophie."
"Oh, come on," Sophie said indifferently, "only once."
"Okay, then he..."
"No!" Sophie said, grabbing Alice's shoulders, "No, don't let him know. Not even die. Promise me, Alice. Swear to me, never, ever, or I'll be embarrassed die."
"Oh, Sophie!" It was astonishing, she thought, how could there be such a strange person.Then she had a sudden surge of emotion, realizing that she had missed Sophie for so long, too, that she had forgotten who she was, that she had even missed her. "Well, what shall we tell Smoky then? It means he..."
"That's right." Sophie was trembling, her chest was trembling constantly.Alice made an empty seat, so Sophie lifted the quilt and got into the warm space that Alice made.Her feet were so cold against Alice's legs that she put her toes on Alice to keep warm.
"It's not bad for him to think so, though it's not true, is it? I mean the baby has to have a father," said Sophie, "and it definitely can't be George, for God's sake." She turned her face Buried on Alice's chest, it took a while before she said in a small voice: "I wish the child was Smoky's." After a while: "It should be his." Then, after a while Long silence: "Think about it. A baby."
Alice seemed to feel Sophie smiling.Is it really possible to feel a guy smile when his face is pressed against yours? "Oh, maybe, I think," she said, hugging Sophie tightly, "that's the way it is." What a strange way of life they had, she thought, and she wouldn't even be able to understand it if she lived to be a hundred years old.She smiled bewilderedly herself, and shook her head in surrender.Good ending!But she hasn't seen Sophie happy for a long time (if she is happy now, and she seems to be really happy), so she can only be happy with Sophie.Sophie, which only blooms at night, blooms during the day.
"He does love you very much," Sophie lisps, "he will always love you." She gave a big yawn and shook. "It's all true. It's all true."
Maybe.Then suddenly a feeling wrapped itself around her, like Sophie's familiar long legs wrapped around hers; maybe she was wrong about the deal, maybe they stopped tempting her to follow because she had She had already arrived at the place they wanted to lure her to.She hadn't lost them, but she didn't have to follow them anymore, because she was here.
She squeezed Sophie suddenly and said, "Ah!"
But if she is here, where is this place?Where is Smoky again?
When it was Smoky's turn, Alice received him sitting on the bed, just as she had received Sophie earlier.Only this time she was leaning back on her pillow like a queen of the East, smoking one of Aunt Claude's coffee-colored cigarettes, which she would have whenever she felt great. "Well," she said grandly, "it's really embarrassing."
Smoky was embarrassed. (And bewildered, he'd always thought he was being careful. People say this kind of thing is always risky, but why?) He walked around the room, picking up small things, looking at them, and putting them back . "I didn't expect this to happen," he said.
"No. Well, I guess things like this are always unexpected." She watched Smoky walk up and down, go to the window to peek out at the moonlight on the snow, as if he were a traitor coming out of his hiding place look out. "Can you tell me what happened?"
He turned at the window, shoulders slumped from the stress.He had long feared the exposure, the fear that his avatars would be caught and forced to stand out in rags. "First of all, it's all my fault," he said. "You shouldn't hate Sophie."
"Oh?"
"I'm...actually I'm the bully. I mean, I designed it, and I'm... like, like, oh."
"uh-huh."
Well, come out all you little beggars, thought Smoky.You are all over.I'm done too.He cleared his throat, pulled his beard, and told the whole thing, or almost the whole thing.
Alice listened, and sipped her cigarette.She tried to exhale the sweet generosity in her throat along with the smoke.She knew she shouldn't have smiled as Smoky narrated, but she was so full of kindness for him, she wanted to hug him and kiss his lips and the soul clearly in his eyes, so brave and honest.So finally she said, "You don't have to keep walking up and down there. Come and sit down."
He sat down on the bed he had betrayed, taking up as little space as possible. "Only once or twice, to put it bluntly," he said, "I had no intention of . . . "
"Three times," she said, "and a half." He flushed.She hoped he'd be able to look her in the eye again soon, knowing she could smile at him. "Well, as you know, this probably isn't the first time in history," she said.His eyes were still downcast.He felt that this was probably unprecedented.His ashamed self sat on his lap like a ventriloquist's puppet.He let it say:
"I promised I'd take care of it and I'll take full responsibility. I had to."
"Of course. That's right."
"And it's over now. I swear, Alice, it's true."
"Don't say that," she said, "who knows."
"No!"
"Well," she said, "there's always room for one more."
"Oh, come on."
"Feel sorry."
"I deserve it."
She took his hand shyly and intertwined with him, not wanting to disturb his guilt and regret.After a painful pause, he did turn to look at her.She smiled. "Stupid," she said.He saw his own reflection in her bottle-brown eyes.is one of him.what happened?Under her gaze, something completely unexpected was happening, a kind of fusion, the various parts of him that could not exist independently were joining together one by one. "You idiot," she said, and another childish personality retreated into him.
"Alice, listen to me," he said, but she put a hand over his mouth, as if trying to stop what she'd just shoved back from escaping. "Stop talking," she said.It's startling.She did the same thing to him again: the first time, years ago, in George Mouse's study, when she created him, only this time she did not create him out of thin air as before, but out of lies and fictions. things to create.He was suddenly terrified, what if his stupid behavior had exceeded the bottom line and caused him to lose her?What if he really surpassed too much?So what is he going to do?Although she shook her head and said no, before it was too late to stop him, he had voluntarily and unreservedly been punished.But she would propose the penalty in the first place just to forgive without enforcement like now, and with all her heart.
"Smoky," she said, "Smoky, don't do it. Listen to me. About the boy."
"Ok."
"Would you rather be a boy or a girl?"
"Alice!..."
She had always hoped (and almost always believed) that they would give a gift which they would give when the time came (but on their own time).She even thought she would recognize it when it finally arrived, and she did.
The spring speeds up slowly like a centrifuge, throwing them all outward.Without knowing why, their tangled lives seemed unraveled, neatly scattered throughout Edgewood, like a chain of unfurled gold: growing golden as the days warmed.The doctor was out for a walk one snowmelt day and came back to say he saw a pack of otters crawling out of their winter dens, two, four, six, come to think of it, they've been hiding under the ice for months In a space not much larger than their own bodies.Mom and the others nodded and sighed, as if they knew how it felt.
One day, Delly Alice and Sophie were happily digging outside the rear front door, both to improve the flower beds and to feel the cool new-born earth with their fingertips.They saw a huge white bird lazily descending from the sky, which at first looked like a blown newspaper or a white umbrella.The bird, holding a stick in its long red beak, landed on a wheel-shaped iron mechanism on the roof that had been part of an old stargazer, rusted and no longer working.The bird stomped over there with its long red legs.It put down the stick, tilted its head to look at it for a while, and changed its position again.Then it looked around and began to rattle its long red beak and spread its wings like a fan.
"what is that?"
"have no idea."
"Does it nest there?"
"Just about to start."
"Do you know what it looks like?"
"Know."
"A stork."
"It can't be a stork," they told the doctor, and the doctor said, "the stork is a European bird, or an Old World bird. They never cross the ocean." He rushed out with them, and Sophie used a Her shovel was pointed at the roof, and at this time there were already two white birds, each holding two other wooden sticks.The two birds were clacking and entwining their necks, like newlyweds neglecting chores because they were too busy making out.
Dr. Drinkwater couldn't believe it for a long time, but he used binoculars and reference books to confirm that he was right: this is not a heron, but a true white stork, Ciconia alba.Excitedly he ran into his study and typed out a report in triplicate, intending to inform the bird-watching associations of which he was more or less a member, of this astonishing and unprecedented event.He murmured "Amazing" while looking for stamps, but suddenly stopped what he was doing and fell into deep thought.He looked at the memo on his desk.He stopped looking for stamps, sat down slowly, and looked up at the ceiling, as if he could see the white bird on top.
The stork had indeed come from another country far away, but she had no recollection of crossing the ocean.She thought it was a good place for her, with her red-framed eyes looking far away in the direction of her beak from the high roof.On clear hot days, when the breeze blew her sun-heated feathers, she even thought she could almost see the long-awaited day: release from the bird's form.她确实一度预见国王的觉醒：国王还会在他的山里睡很久，侍从在他周围睡成一堆。他脸朝下趴在宴会桌上鼾声大作，红色的胡子在他漫长的睡梦中长得好长，如藤蔓般缠上了桌脚。她看见他抽抽鼻子、动了动，仿佛正在做一个可能会把他惊醒的梦，她心脏狂跳了一下，因为只要国王醒来，她自己解脱的日子也就不远了。
但她跟其他那些她叫得出名字的家伙不一样，她有耐心。她会再次从她圆卵石般的蛋里孵出一窝长着细毛的幼雏。她会庄严地踏在荷塘的杂草间，为他们猎杀一票青蛙。她会好好爱她现在的丈夫，这个亲爱的家伙既有耐心又有热忱，会帮她忙带孩子。她不会去渴望，渴望是种致命的情绪。
等到那年尘土飞扬的漫长夏季到来时，艾丽斯生了孩子。她把第三个女儿取名露西，但史墨基觉得这跟另外两个女儿泰西和莉莉的名字太像了，而且他知道自己往后至少二三十年里一定会常常叫错。“没关系，”艾丽斯说，“反正这是最后一个了。”但实则不然。她会再怀上一个男孩，但连克劳德姑婆都还不知道。
无论如何，倘若索菲某天缩在湖边的凉亭里做梦时所感觉到的是事实：他们要的是下一代，那么这还真是个丰硕的年份。秋分时降了一场霜，让树林灰扑扑一片，但夏季依然如同幽灵般徘徊不去、遥遥无止，地上因而冒出恍恍惚惚的番红花，印第安人不安的魂魄也纷纷从他们的坟墓里飘出来。索菲就在这时候生下了孩子，宣称是史墨基的骨肉。更让人困扰的是，她把她女儿取名莱拉克，因为她梦到母亲手里拿着一枝散发着浓浓香气的蓝色丁香花走进她房里，而她一醒来就看见母亲抱着新生的女婴走进她房里。泰西和莉莉也来了，泰西还小心翼翼抱着她三个月大的妹妹露西一起来看宝宝。
“看见了吗，露西？看到宝宝了吗？跟你一模一样。”
莉莉攀到床上仔细端详莱拉克的脸，此时宝宝就窝在温柔低语的索菲身旁。“她不会待很久。”研究了一会儿之后莉莉说。
“莉莉！”妈妈说，“怎么可以说这种可怕的话！”
“噢，她就是不会嘛。”她转向泰西：“她会吗？”
“不会。”泰西说着，把怀里的露西从一手换到另一手。“但没关系。她会回来的。”看见外婆如此震惊，她这么说，“噢，别担心，她不会死或怎样。她只是不会留在这里而已。”
“而且她会回来，”莉莉说，“过一阵子。”
“你们为什么这么想？”索菲问，不大确定自己是否完全回到了真实世界，不知道有没有听错。
两个女孩不约而同耸耸肩。连耸肩的方式都一样，只是迅速扬起肩膀和眉毛然后又放下，仿佛这只是一个简单的事实。她们看着妈妈一边摇头，一边帮助索菲引诱白皙粉嫩的莱拉克吸奶（是种很棒的、既舒适又疼痛的感觉）。索菲因疲倦与惊奇而昏昏欲睡，一边哺乳一边再次坠入梦乡，而莱拉克不久也睡着了，或许她也是一样的感觉。尽管两人间的脐带已经剪断，她们说不定还做着同样的梦。
第二天早晨，鹳鸟离开了艾基伍德屋顶上那凌乱的窝。她的孩子既没告别也没道歉就离开了家（她并不意外），而她先生也走了，希望明年春天还会重逢。她自己也只待到莱拉克诞生那天为止，因为她得通报这个消息（她向来遵守诺言）。因此她朝着和她家人完全不同的方向飞去，顶着长长的喙子，在秋天的黎明张开扇子般的翅膀，双腿如同旗帜般延伸在后。
史墨基和田鼠一样拒绝相信冬季，努力享受夏日天空，直到很晚都还躺在地上凝望苍天。但这个月份的名字里已经有个R了，克劳德姑婆觉得这对神经、骨骼和组织不好。奇怪的是，他竟选择用那些变动不已、随着季节更替的星座来纪念夏天，但天空转得这么慢，看似根本没在动，所以他反而感到安慰。但他只要看看手表，就知道它们也跟着候鸟飞往南方去了。
在猎户座升起、天蝎座落下的那个夜晚，气温几乎跟八月一样温暖，这其实只是天气上的巧合，但那个日子其实就标记着夏日的最后一天。他跟索菲和黛莉·艾丽斯躺在被羊群吃得光秃秃的田野上，三人的头靠得很近，就像窝里的三颗蛋，在星光下看起来也跟蛋一样白。他们把头紧靠在一起，因为这样只要有人指出一颗星星，手指的方向就会或多或少落在其他人的视线内，否则他们恐怕整个晚上都得不断说明“那一颗，在那里，我指的那里”，却因为好几十亿英里的视差而无法精准。史墨基腿上放了一本摊开的观星指南，还带了一把手电筒，上面罩着一张原本包着荷兰奶酪的红色玻璃纸，用以杜绝光害。
“鹿豹座。”他说着指向挂在北方的一串星星，但并不清晰，因为天际线上还有光。“就是鹿豹的意思。”
“这鹿豹又是什么呢？”黛莉·艾丽斯溺爱地说。
“其实就是长颈鹿，”史墨基说，“鹿加花豹。长着豹纹的鹿。”
“天上为什么会有一只长颈鹿？”索菲问，“它怎么跑到那里的？”
“我猜你应该不是第一个这么问的人，”史墨基笑道，“想象一下，人们第一次抬头看那里，然后说：老天爷，那只长颈鹿在那儿干吗？”
天上的动物仿佛逃离了动物园，从男男女女、神明英雄的生命中窜过。此外还有黄道带（那天晚上他们三人的星座都看不到，全都跟着太阳到南方去了）。不可思议的银河星尘如一道彩虹般横越他们上空。猎户俄里翁在天际线上抬起一条腿，紧跟着他的猎犬天狼星。他们发现了此刻升起的星座。木星挂在西天发光，闪也不闪一下。整片夜空如同一把斑斑点点的遮阳伞，边缘装饰着赤道带，沿着歪曲的伞骨绕着北极星旋转，速度慢得无法察觉，却稳定无比。
史墨基根据小时候读过的书描述星空里环环相扣的故事。对史墨基而言，那些图案是如此不具体又不完整、故事如此琐碎（至少某些是），因此他觉得一定全都是真的：赫拉克勒斯看起来根本不像赫拉克勒斯，除非有人告诉你他在那上面并指出确切位置，否则一定没有人找得到他。某棵树可以追溯到达佛涅身上，但另一棵树就只能是平凡的树而已。只有少数花朵、山峦或事件可以追溯到神身上，而全人类也只有（或确切来说应该是她的椅子）被化作明亮的星辰，仿佛一切只是出于意外。此外，还有某甲的皇冠、某乙的竖琴：是众神的阁楼。
索菲无法从星空的花样中看出图案，倒是被它们的近距离给催眠了。她猜不透为什么某些人是基于奖励而被放上星空，某些人却是基于惩罚；此外还有一些人似乎只是为了在其他人的故事里串场才出现在那里。这似乎不公平，但她却无法确定原因何在：究竟是因为他们莫名其妙就被永远困在那里，还是因为他们没什么功劳就被保存下来（放上王座）永垂不朽。她想起他们自己的故事：他们三人，像星座一样恒常，怪异得足以永志难忘。
那个星期，地球穿过一颗离去已久的彗星的尾巴，因此每天晚上都会有一堆碎屑落入大气，烧出灼灼白光。“有些只跟圆卵石或针头差不多大，”史墨基说，“你们看见的光芒是来自空气。”
但这些索菲倒是看得很清楚，是殒落的星星。她觉得自己也许可以选定一颗星，然后看它掉落，那瞬间的光亮将会令她倒抽一口气、胸中充满大无限。那样的命运会比较好吗？草地上，她握住史墨基的手，另一只手原本就已经牵着姊姊。每有一颗流星滑落，艾丽斯就会轻轻捏她一下。
黛莉·艾丽斯无法判断自己的感觉究竟是很大，还是很小。她猜不透是自己的头大到可以装得下这繁星点点的宇宙，还是这宇宙小得可以装进她这人类的脑袋。两种感觉交替出现，忽大忽小。星星在她宽阔的眼帘里进进出出，在她巨大空旷的额头下方。接着史墨基牵起她的手，她就这样缩成一个小点，但星星依然装在她体内，像装在一只微小的珠宝盒里。
他们躺了很久，不再开口说话，各自思考着那瞬间即逝的永恒所带来的古怪感触。这是种悖论，却也是种无可否认的感觉，而倘若星星确实这么近、确实都有面孔，那么它们俯瞰下方时定会把这三人看成单一的星座，是旋转的黑暗草原上一个连接起来的轮子。
没有入口，只有窗角的一个小洞。冬至夜的风从这里吹进来，在窗台上积起一小堆尘埃，但这样的空间就够了，他们从这里进入。
此时索菲房里有三个，紧紧靠在一起，戴着褐色帽子，交头接耳，苍白平板的脸就像小小的月亮。
“瞧她睡得多熟。”
“对，还有小宝宝在她怀里睡觉。”
“天啊，她抱得真紧。”
“也没那么紧。”
他们动作一致地靠近了那张床。莱拉克躺在母亲怀里，躺在一个有帽子的婴儿睡袋内抵挡寒冷。她对着索菲的脸颊呼吸，在那儿形成了一滴水渍。
“好吧，那就把她抱走吧。”
“你这么紧张，干吗不自己动手。”
“大家一起来吧。”
六只纤长的苍白手臂朝莱拉克伸过去。“等等，”其中一个说，“另外那个在谁那里？”
“不是你要带来的吗？”
“什么我。”
“在这里，在这里。”有人从一只束口袋里取出一样东西。
“老天。还真不像。”
“现在要干吗？”
“对着它吹气。”
他们轮流往上面吹气，不时回头瞄向沉睡中的莱拉克。他们不断吹气，直到手中的东西变成第二个莱拉克。
"Okay."
“很像。”
“现在把那个……”
“再等等。”其中一人仔细端详着莱拉克，小心翼翼地掀开棉被，“看这个。她的小手都缠在妈妈的头发里了。”
“紧紧抓着。”
“抱走小孩，就会弄醒妈妈。”
“那就用这个吧。”其中一人掏出了一把大剪刀，它在夜灯下发出熠熠白光，咔嚓一声打开。“这就没问题了。”
一人抱着假的莱拉克，另一人伸出手准备抱走索菲的莱拉克，第三人则手持剪刀，一切很快就完成了。假娃娃没在睡觉，但眼神空洞、一动不动，不过在母亲怀里躺个一夜就好了。妈妈和孩子都没醒来。他们把带来的假婴儿放在索菲胸前。
“现在走人吧。”
“说得容易。不能从我们进来的地方出去。”
“下楼从大门出去。”
“如果非得如此的话。”
他们动作一致、一声不响地来到了前门（他们经过时，老屋似乎不时吸气或发出哼声，但话说它向来如此，自有理由）。其中一人伸手开了门，他们来到屋外，顺着风快速前进。莱拉克一直没醒来也没出声（手里一绺绺金发在行进途中被疾风吹走），而索菲也继续睡觉，什么感觉也没有。只是她长长的梦境有了转折，以某种前所未有的方式变得哀伤难熬。
史墨基因某种内在因素而猛然惊醒，一睁开眼睛就忘了自己因什么而醒。但他确实醒了，跟中午一样清醒，这种状况很恼人，他猜会不会是因为自己吃了什么。当时是什么事也不能做的凌晨四点钟。他坚定地闭上眼睛一会儿，不相信自己真的睡意全消。但事实就是如此，他很清楚，因为他愈是看着眼皮上的色块移动变形，它们就愈发没有催眠效果，只是愈来愈无意义且无聊。
他无比小心地从层层棉被底下钻出来，在黑暗中摸索他的睡袍。对他而言，这种状态只有一种解决方法，那就是起床保持清醒，直到症状缓和消失。他小心翼翼地踩过地板，希望自己不要踩到鞋子或其他障碍物；没理由让黛莉·艾丽斯也跟着失眠。他来到门前，很满意自己完全没惊扰到她，也没惊扰到黑夜。他只要沿着一间间大厅走去，下几层楼，扭开一些灯，这样就行了。他把门在身后小心带上，结果黛莉·艾丽斯就这样醒来，不是因为他发出了什么声音，而是她睡眠的平静已经被他不在身边这件事悄悄破坏、入侵了。
打开后梯的门时，厨房里已经亮着一盏灯。看见门打开时，克劳德姑婆惊怖之余发出了一阵深沉震颤的叫声，但探头进来的是史墨基，因此她说了声：“噢。”她面前放了一杯温热的牛奶，又长又细的头发披散下来，跟一样雪白无比，已经有好多年好多年没剪过了。
“吓我一跳。”她说。
他们低声谈论失眠的事，但在这里除了老鼠以外，他们的声音根本不会打扰到任何人。史墨基知道克劳德姑婆也想靠着忙碌来克服失眠，因此让她为他加热一些牛奶。他在自己的牛奶里加了一点白兰地。
“听那风声。”克劳德姑婆说。
他们听见楼上传来冲马桶的声音。“怎么了？”克劳德姑婆说，“大家都失眠，而且没有月亮。”她打了个冷战。“感觉很像那种灾难之夜，再不然就是那种会有大消息的夜晚，大家都醒着。好吧。只是巧合。”她说这话的口气就像其他人说“老天帮帮忙”一样，带有相同的那份生硬的怀疑。
此时史墨基已全身温暖，起身用一种认命的口气说：“好吧。”克劳德姑婆已开始翻阅一本食谱。他希望她不必坐在那儿看着荒凉的黎明到来，也希望自己不会那么倒霉。
爬上楼梯后，他没回到自己床上，因为他知道他还睡不着。他转向索菲的房间，除了看看她之外别无意图。有时她的平静能安抚他，像猫一样，能让他也感到平静。打开她房门时，他在苍白如月的夜灯下看见有人坐在索菲床边。
"Hi," he said.
"Hi," said Delly Alice.
空气里有种古怪的味道，很像发了霉的叶子，或野胡萝卜，再不然就是被翻开的石头底下的泥土。“怎么了？”他轻声问道，在床的另一侧坐下。
“我不知道，”她说，“没什么。你出去我就醒了。我感觉索菲好像遇到了什么事，所以过来看看。”
他们的轻声细语不可能吵醒索菲，因为她睡觉时若有人在旁边说话，似乎反而更有安抚效果，让她深沉的呼吸更加均匀规律。
“但一切都没事。”他说。
"yes."
风刮在房子上，怒嚎阵阵，窗户隆隆作响。他低头看着索菲和莱拉克。莱拉克看起来像死了一样，但有过三个小孩后，史墨基已经知道不必为这种恐怖的模样穷紧张，特别是在黑暗里。
他们静静地坐在索菲两侧。风突然在烟囱里刮出一阵声响，听起来很像某个字。史墨基望向艾丽斯，艾丽斯碰了碰他的手臂，迅速露出微笑。
那个微笑令他想起什么？
“没事的。”她说。
他想起自己结婚那天，他们苦恼地坐在奥伯龙夏屋的草地上时，克劳德姑婆也曾对他微笑：一个意在安抚的微笑，但效果却不安抚人。一个意在克服距离的微笑，但似乎只是加深了距离。一个从无法跨越的异地送出的友情讯号，仿佛从遥远的国界对面招手。
“你有没有闻到一股怪味？”他说。
“有。没有。刚才有，现在没了。”
really.房里只有夜晚空气的味道。外头的风在房里掀起阵阵微弱的气流，不时吹拂着他的脸。但他却不觉得这是北风哥哥在周围乱窜，只觉得仿佛是这多角的房子在航行，穿过黑夜，朝四面八方的未来稳稳推进。
Notes:
Notes: