Chapter 20 III

Hawksquill's high-powered Firefox drove her back to the big city in near-record speed, but (judging from her watch) it might still be a little late.Even though she now has all the keys to the Russell Eigenbrick mystery, figuring it out is taking longer than she expected. As she drove north, she was planning how she would introduce herself to Violet Bramble's heirs (whether calling herself antiquities researcher, collector, or occultist) in order to entice them to show her their cards. .But she would never have been able to touch them if the deck of cards hadn't already counted her presence (Sophie knew who she was or recognized her immediately).In her favor it turned out that she was also a distant cousin of Violet Bramble's descendant, and just as Hawksquill was intrigued by the coincidence, so was the eccentric family. happiness.Even so, the days flew by as she and Sophie pored over the deck.She spent a few more days working on the final edition of The Architecture of Country Houses, whose oddities no one in the family seemed familiar with.Although the whole story (at least the parts that have happened so far) has become more and more clear under her careful study, the people of Noisy Bridge Club and Gun Club are still ready to make that decision with Russell Eigenbrick Destiny talks, and Hawksquill has not yet decided which side he will take, and which path he will take.

But now it is clear.Children of the Son of Time: Who would have guessed?A fool adds a cousin; a traveler adds a master.The smallest big name!Smiling somberly, she made her way around the Imperial Hotel, where Eigenblick was staying, with the last intention of casting a spell, something she rarely did. She drove the Firefox into the huge underground parking lot of the hotel.All entrances, exits and elevators are patrolled by armed guards and attendants.She found herself lined up in a queue of cars waiting to go through security.She turned off the engine, took a Moroccan leather envelope from the glove box, and took out a small piece of white bone from the envelope.This bone was given by the black woman, and Hawksquill had done great favors to this "psychic medium" in the past.The black woman obtained the bone from a purebred black cat thrown alive into boiling water in the kitchen of her tenement.It may be a toe bone, or it may be part of the upper jaw, the black woman doesn't know.She spent a whole day experimenting in front of the mirror, carefully taking the bones out of the stinking corpse, putting them into her mouth one by one, and finally found the bone that could make her image disappear from the mirror .This is it.Hawksquill had always found witchcraft vulgar, and especially its cruelty repulsive.She herself doesn't believe that one of the thousands of bones in a purebred black cat can make people invisible, but the black woman said that whether she believes it or not, this bone can work.She is very happy to have this gift now.She looked around, but the attendants hadn't noticed her car.So she deliberately left the key in the lock, put the bone in her mouth with a disgusted expression, and was thus invisible.

It took her a while to get out of the car without anyone noticing, but the entourage and guards didn't care much about the automatic opening and closing of the elevator doors (after all, unmanned elevators are difficult to control).Hawksquill entered the hall, careful not to bump into those who could see.The stern-faced men in raincoats stood along the walls or sat in armchairs in the hall pretending to read newspapers, but they fooled no one, and no one except Hawksquill People can fool them.At this moment, they received the signal and began to change their positions, like pieces on a chessboard.Led by the pawns, a large group of people came in through the rapidly turning revolving door.It was the exact moment, Hawksquill thought, because it was the people from the Noisy Bridge Club and Gun Club who were walking into the hall at this moment.They are different from ordinary people. When they enter this kind of place, they don’t look around curiously. They just spread out slightly as if emphasizing their sovereignty.Each carried a briefcase as soft as a glove under his arm, and on his head he wore a striking Homburg hat, the kind of hat long out of fashion for a man of his stature. would look ridiculous.

They entered two elevators separately, and the person with the highest status opened the door for the others, as stipulated in ancient male etiquette.Hawksquill slipped into the less crowded elevator. "The thirteenth floor?" "The thirteenth floor." Someone pressed the thirteenth floor key with his index finger.Another looked at his watch.The elevator went up steadily.They had little to say, for their plans were drawn up, and they knew very well that walls have ears.Hawksquill still pressed against the door panel, facing their expressionless faces.The door opened, and she slipped out, almost on the verge of death, because immediately outside the door someone reached out to shake hands with someone from the club.

"The lecturer will be here soon." "Please wait in this room." "Can I order something for you? The lecturer ordered coffee just now." Some alert men in suits lead them to the left.In front of each door stood one or two young men in colored shirts, with their hands clasped behind their backs, showing a relaxed gesture.At least he was on his guard, Hawksquill thought.A waiter in a red coat came out of another elevator, holding a large tray with just a small cup of coffee on it.He was walking to the right, so Hawksquill followed him.He was allowed to go through the double doors, past the guards, and Hawksquill followed him in.He came to an unmarked door, knocked on it, opened it and entered the room.Hawksquill stuck an invisible foot against the door as he turned back to close it, and slipped inside.

It was an impersonal living room with wide windows overlooking a city of tall buildings.The waiter walked past Hawksquill and left the room, grunting under his breath.Just as Hawksquill took the bone out of his mouth and put it away carefully, the door at the other end opened, and Russell Eigenbrick came out yawning, wearing a black suit with a dragon pattern on his body Silk dressing gown.On his nose was a pair of tiny half-rimmed spectacles that Hawksquill had never seen. He thought no one was in the room, so he was startled when he saw her. "It's you?" he said. Hawksquill knelt down on one knee (she didn't remember doing such a thing), bowed deeply, and said, "I am your humble servant, Your Majesty."

"Get up," said Eigenblick, "who let you in?" "A black cat," said Hawksquill, standing up. "It doesn't matter. We're running out of time." "I don't talk to reporters." "Sorry," Hawksquill said, "that identity is false. I'm not a reporter." "I knew it!" he said triumphantly.He took off his glasses, as if suddenly remembering that he was wearing them.He walked over to the fake Louis XIV desk, ready to press the intercom. "Wait," said Hawksquill, "tell me, after eight hundred years of sleep, do you want your efforts to come to naught?"

He turned slowly to look at her. "Don't forget," continued Hawksquill, "that you were once groveling before some Pope, and were forced to pull his stirrups and run beside his horse." Eigenblick's face flushed to a different bright red from his beard.He stared angrily at Hawksquill with his eagle eyes. "Who are you?" he asked. "At this moment," Hawksquill said, pointing to the other end of the presidential suite, "those who are waiting for you are planning to subject you to exactly the same humiliation. It's just that the method is better, and you will never find yourself occupied Cheap. I mean the Noisy Bridge Clubs and Guns. Or did they introduce themselves to you by some other title?"

"Bullshit," Eigenblick said. "I've never heard of this club." But there was a cloud in his eyes.Perhaps somewhere, at some point, someone had warned him... "And what do you mean by that pope? That charming gentleman I've never met." He avoided her gaze and took He picked up the small cup of coffee and drank it down. But she succeeded, and she could see it.If he didn't ring the bell for the guards to come and throw her out, he'd listen to her. "Did they promise you high office?" she asked. "The highest position," he finally said after a long silence, staring out the window.

"It might interest you to know that these gentlemen have hired me for various assignments for them over the years. I should know them well. Is it the presidency?" He was silent.This stands for yes. "The Presidency," said Hawksquill, "is no longer a position, but a void. A fine void, but a void. You must decline. Politely. Any flattery Reject both. I'll explain your next step later..." He turned and stared at her. "How do you know these things?" he said. "How do you know who I am?" Hawksquill stared back without flinching, and said in her most wizardly manner, "I know a lot."

The intercom rang.Eigenblick walked over, pressed a finger to his lips, looked thoughtfully at the mass of buttons, and pressed one.no response.He pressed another, and a slightly noisy voice said, "Everything is ready, sir." "Okay," Eigenblick said, "right now." He let go of the button, realized his voice hadn't gotten through, pressed another button, and repeated.He turned to Hawksquill. "However you find out about these things," he said, "you obviously don't know everything. It is," he went on, with a big smile on his face and his eyes looking up, as sure as hell, " I appear in the card. No matter what happens to me, it is impossible to change the fate that has been written long ago. I have been blessed. Everything is destined." "Your Majesty," said Hawksquill, "I may have misunderstood..." "Stop calling me Your Majesty!" he said angrily. "Sorry. I may not have made it clear. I know you're in the cards. It's a beautiful deck of cards. The big cards are designed to herald and encourage the resurgence of your old empire, at least on the surface. I guess they They were designed and drawn during the reign of Rudolf II, and printed in Prague. Since then, they have been used for other purposes. But your status in it has not been reduced." "Where are the cards?" He suddenly walked towards her, stretching out his hands greedily like claws, "Hand it over, I have to get it." "Let me go on," said Hawksquill. "That deck is my property," Eigenblick said. "Property of your empire," she said, "used to be." She stared so hard that he had to shut up, and then said: "Let me go on: I know you appear in the cards. I know what kind of power Let you appear there, as for what the purpose is, I know a thing or two. I know your destiny. But if you want to achieve it, you must believe that I also have a part in it." "you." "I'm here to warn you, to help you. I have special powers. Powerful enough to discover this, to discover you, to find you out of the ocean of time. You need me. You need me now, and you will need me in the future." He examines her.She saw doubt, hope, relief, fear and determination coming and going across his large face. "Why," he said, "nobody ever mentioned your name to me?" "Maybe it's because they don't know I exist," she said. "They know everything." "There's a lot they don't know. It will definitely do you good to remember that." He thought for a moment, but the engagement was over. "What's in it for you?" he said.The intercom rang again. "We'll talk about my compensation later," she said. "For now, before you reply, you'd better figure out what you're going to say to your visitor." "Will you be with me?" he said, suddenly needing her. "Can't let them see me," said Hawksquill, "but I'll be with you." It was a cheap trick, just a cat bone, but when Eigenbrick pressed the button on the walkie-talkie, Still, she couldn't help thinking that this was the only thing that would convince Emperor Frederick the Redbeard that she really had the powers she claimed (if he remembered his youth).She disappeared when he turned his head away, and when he turned to face her, or to where she was standing, she said, "Shall we go and meet the club?" The day Auberon got out of the car at the intersection was a gray day, a pale damp gray.He asked the bus driver to drop him off there, but he had difficulty first describing the place and then convincing the driver that the bus actually passed by that location.When Auberon described it, the driver kept shaking his head slowly in denial. He avoided Auberon's gaze and just said softly: "No, no." As if he was absent-minded.Auberon knew he was clearly lying, the guy just wasn't willing to break his routine.Auberon described it again calmly and politely, then sat down in the first seat behind the driver, opened his eyes and waited.Upon reaching the location, he tapped the driver on the shoulder.He proudly got out of the car, intending to criticize how poorly observed the public transport drivers are these days, etc., but the door immediately closed with a hiss, and the long gray bus made a creaking sound and staggered away. The signpost beside him pointed the way to Edgewood as always, but looked haggard and older and tilted to one side.The lettering on it was more worn than he remembered, or worse than the last time he saw it, but it was the same street sign.He walked down the winding road, a milk-chocolate brown after the rain.He moved forward cautiously, surprised that his footsteps were so loud.He hadn't realized how much he had lost in those few months in Ayutthaya.The art of memory could paint a map of his past that might contain it all, but it was impossible to bring back the fullness for him: the air seemed to be a transparent liquid, sweet, moist, exhilarating. Smell; there is always a nameless low sound all around, mixed with birdsong whispering loudly into his numb ears; and the sense of space itself, formed by various lines, clusters of budding trees and slowly rolling land Foreground and middle ground.He can survive without all this (after all, air is air, whether here or in Dacheng); but once back here, he feels like a fish in water, as if he can stretch his muscles and bones, and his soul spreads its wings like a butterfly that has shed its chrysalis.He actually opened his arms, took a deep breath, and read a few lines.But his soul is as dry as wood and ashes. As he made his way, he felt as if he had a companion, a young man who didn't wear a baggy brown coat and didn't have a hangover.The man tugged at his sleeve from time to time, pointing out that he used to pull his bicycle over this fence and sneak back to the summer house to find Emperor Frederick the Redbeard; Bend over there together and listen to the murmurs of the groundhogs in their burrows.It all happened, it happened to someone, it happened to someone who persevered.It didn't happen to him... the pair of gray stone pillars topped with gray balls appeared in the same place as before.He reached out and touched the rough surface, which felt wet and sticky in spring.At the end of the drive, his sister was waiting for him on the porch. God.He came home with as little mystery as when he left.It was as he was thinking this that he realized for the first time that he had planned to return secretly, thinking that he could sneak back into the house without anyone noticing that he had left for about eighteen months. moon.How stupid!But the last thing he wanted was a fuss and questioning round him.But it was too late, because when he stood uncertainly by the gate, Lucy had already seen him, jumped up and waved her hands violently.She ran to meet him, dragging Lily, while Tessie remained more dignified in her peacock chair, wearing a long skirt and an old Auberon tweed jacket. "Hi, hi," he said easily, and suddenly realized what he looked like: bearded, bloodshot eyes, carrying a shopping bag, with the dust of the big city under his fingernails and in his hair.Lucy and Lily looked so clean and youthful and happy that he struggled with whether to run away or kneel before them begging for forgiveness.Although they embraced him, took the bag from his hands, and talked at the same time, he knew they saw him clearly. "You'll never guess who's been," said Lucy. "An old lady," said Auberon, glad for the first time in his life that he could be sure he was right. "With a gray bun. How is mother? How is father?" "But you'll never guess who she is," said Lily. "Did she tell you I'd be back? I didn't tell her." "No. But we just know. Take a guess." "She's..." said Lucy, "a cousin. Kind of. Sophie found it. Years..." "In England," said Lily, "you know old Auberon? Well, he's Violet Bramble Drinkwater's son..." "But not John Drinkwater's son! A bastard..." "How do you all know who's who?" Auberon asked. "Anyway, Violet Bramble had an affair in England, before she married John. The man's name was Oliver Hawksquill." "A country boy," said Lily. "It turned out to be pregnant, and the baby was old Auberon. And this lady..." "Hi, Auberon," said Tessie, "how's Big City?" "Well, it's amazing," said Auberon, with a sudden choke that almost brought tears to his eyes. "It's amazing." "Did you walk back?" Tessie asked. "No, I'll take the bus." Everyone was silent for a while after hearing this.Auberon had no choice but to say, "There! Listen. How's Mama? How's Daddy?" "Very well. She got your card." He thought with horror of the few cards and letters he'd sent from the big city: always evasive, bragging, or insincere or joking.The last one is Mom's birthday card, oh god, he found it in the trash, unsigned card, full of flattery, but because he hadn't heard from him in a long time and was drunk , so he sent that card.Now he knew it must have been like a brutal butter knife stab for her to receive that card.He sat down on the front porch steps, suddenly unable to move forward. "Well, what do you think, Mom?" asked Delly Alice, standing there looking into the dank, dark interior of the old icehouse. Maddy is checking the stock in the cupboard. "Tuna with green beans and cream sauce?" she said uncertainly. "Oh, crap," said Alice, "Smoky's gonna give me a stare. You know that stare, don't you?" "Oh, I know." "Okay." The few damp objects on the metal shelf seemed to shrink and disappear under her gaze.There was a constant sound of dripping water, like in a cave.Delly Alice thought of the old days, of the big white refrigerator stuffed with fresh vegetables and colorful crispers, and maybe a well-grilled turkey or argyle-scratched ham, breathing cold. Neatly packaged meats and meals lie in the freezer.Plus there's a delightful little light that comes on when you turn on the fridge, like being on stage.I really miss it.She put her hand on a mild milk bottle and said, "Has Rudy been here today?" "No." "He's really old at his age to move those big ice cubes," Alice said, "and he keeps forgetting." She sighed and continued to stare at the inside of the freezer.Rudy's old age, his diminished enjoyment of life, his lukewarm dinner later, all seemed to be housed in this zinc-lined freezer. "Okay, don't leave the door open, honey," Maddy said softly.Alice had just closed the freezer door when the storage room door swung open. "Oh, my God," said Alice, "oh, Auberon." She ran up to him and hugged him as quickly as if he was in some serious trouble and she had to rush to save him right away.But his face was sad not because of what he had been through before, but because he had just walked through the house: all the memories and the smells he had forgotten, the scarred furniture, the worn carpet and the visible The garden windows filled his eyes, as if he had been away not for a year and a half, but for half his life. "Hi," he said. She let him go. "Look at you," she said, "what's the matter?" "What's wrong?" He tried to force a smile, wondering what depravity she saw in his face.Delly Alice raised a finger in amazement, and stroked his eyebrows that formed a line. "When did you grow out?" "Ah?" Delly Alice pointed to the top of her nose, which she also had of Violet descent (though her own was less obvious because of her lighter coat). "Oh." He shrugged.He didn't actually notice, because he hasn't been looking in the mirror very carefully lately. "I don't know." He smiled, "Do you like it?" He touched that eyebrow himself.Soft as a baby's hair, with one or two thicker hairs mixed in. "I must be old," he said. She found it to be true.During the time away from home, he has crossed a certain milestone, and from then on his life will be consumed faster than it can be increased.She could see the marks on his face and the back of his hands.She choked up, so she hugged him again because then she didn't have to talk.Auberon said over his mother's shoulder to his grandmother, "Hey, Maddy. Listen, listen, don't get up, don't get up." "Oh, you're such a bad boy, you didn't write to your mother," Maddy said, "never said you were coming back. Nothing for dinner now." "Oh, it's okay, it's okay," he left his mother's arms and came to kiss Maddy's soft, wrinkled cheeks, "Are you okay?" "Same old, old old." She sat looking at him shrewdly.He had always felt that Granny knew some shameful secret of his, and that she would let it out if she simply brought it up in everyday conversation. "I just keep living," she said, "You've grown up." "God, I don't think so." "If it's not that, then I forgot how big you have grown." "Yeah, that's it... okay." The two women looked him up and down from the perspective of the two generations respectively, and got different opinions.He felt he was being scrutinized.He knew he should take off his coat, but he had forgotten what he was wearing under it, so he just sat at the end of the table and said again, "Okay." "Tea," said Delly Alice, "how about some tea? You can tell us about your adventures." "Good tea," he said. "How's George?" Maddy asked, "And his gang?" "Oh, that's good." In fact, he hadn't been to the old order farm for several months. "It's good, the same way." Thinking of the weird George, he couldn't help shaking his head, thinking it was very funny. "That crazy farm." "I remember," she said, "that the place used to be beautiful. Many years ago. It was the house around the corner, where the Mausses lived in the first place..." "And now, and now," said Auberon.He glanced at his mother, who was busy boiling water and making tea standing in front of the big stove.She secretly wiped her tears on the sleeve of her sweatshirt, only to realize that Auberon had seen her, so she picked up the teapot and turned to face him. "...It's the same after Phyllis Towns died," Madi continued, "Oh! She has been ill for a long time, and her doctor has already checked her kidneys, but she thinks... " "So what about Big City, seriously?" Alice said to her son, "Seriously." "Honestly, it's not that good," Auberon said, lowering his eyes. "I'm sorry." "Oh, well," she said. "Sorry for not writing back. Because there is nothing to write." "It's okay. We're just worried about you." He looked up.He really didn't expect this.For the people here, he has been swallowed by that terrifying city full of people, just like being swallowed by a magic dragon, and he has never been heard from since. Of course they will worry about him.There seemed to be a window in his heart, and he saw his real self through it. This situation happened once in this kitchen before.People loved him and missed him, and it had nothing to do with his personal worth.He lowered his eyelids again in shame.Alice turned back to the stove.Granny took advantage of the silence between the two of them to bring up the past, talking about how dead relatives had fallen ill, recovered, relapsed, weakened, and died. "Uh-huh, uh-huh." He nodded while looking carefully at the scratched desktop.He had automatically taken his old seat, to his father's right, to Tessie's left. "Have some tea," said Alice.She placed the teapot on an insulated tray and patted its smooth, round body.She put a cup in front of him, and then stood aside holding hands, not knowing whether she was waiting for him to pour tea or something.He glanced up at her, tried to speak, to answer the question he read on her face (if he could answer), but at that moment the door to the storage room flung open and Lily walked in with the twins and Follow Tony Barker. "Hi, Uncle Auberon," the twins (Bud the boy, Blossom the girl) called in unison, as if Auberon hadn't made it home yet, so they had to yell for him to hear.Auberon stared at them: they seemed to have doubled in size, and they were talking: they weren't talking when he left, were they?The last time I saw them, weren't they still carried by their mother in canvas bags one after the other?After being quarreled by them, Lily began to rummage through boxes and cabinets to find something delicious.The twins have no interest in that pot of tea, but it's definitely time for something.Tony Barker shook hands with Auberon and said, "Hey, how's Big Town?" "Oh, huh, that's great." Auberon replied with the same enthusiasm and crisp tone as Tony.Tony turned to Alice and said, "Tessie said we might get some rabbits to eat tonight." "Oh Tony, that's great," Alice said. Then Tessie herself came in, calling Tony's name. "Can you, Mom?" she said. "Excellent," Alice said, "better than tuna with green beans and cream sauce." "Kill the chicken and kill the sheep," said Maddy, the only person here who could think of it. "Celebrate." "Smoky must have been overjoyed," Alice said to Auberon. "He loves rabbit, but he never felt qualified to propose it." "Listen," said Auberon, "don't do it for..." Having completely obliterated himself, he couldn't say the personal pronoun. "I mean, don't just because..." "Uncle Auberon," said Bud, "have you ever met any robbers?" "Ah?" "Bandits." He snapped his fingers at Auberon. "Murgging you. In the big city." "Well. Actually..." But Bud noticed that his sister Blossom had already got a cookie that he didn't have (he'd been keeping an eye on her), so he had to rush to grab one. "Okay, now get out! Get out!" said Lily. "Are you going to watch the rabbit slaughter?" her daughter said, taking her hand. "No, I don't want it," Lily said, but Blossom wanted his mother to accompany her in this horrific and fascinating sight, and he jerked her hand. "Just a second," she said reassuringly, dragging her mother along. "Don't be afraid." So Lily, Bud, Blossom, and Tony walked through the summer kitchen, from the door leading to the vegetable garden. The door went out.Tessie poured a cup of tea for herself and Maddy, and took the tea and left through the storage room door, and Maddy followed her. The door rattled shut behind them. Alice and Auberon sat alone in the kitchen, the noise came and went suddenly, and the scene returned to silence. "So," said Auberon, "everyone seems to be doing well." "Yeah. Very good." "You don't mind if I have a drink?" He said, slowly standing up like an old man who has gone through vicissitudes. "Of course," said Alice, "there's some sherry in there, and there must be others." He took down a dusty bottle of whiskey. "No ice," Alice said. "Rudy isn't here." "Is he still helping people cut ice?" "Oh! yes. But he's been ill lately. And you know his grandson Robin—well! You know, he's indifferent. Poor old man." Paradoxically, this was the last straw.Poor old Rudy... "It's so sad, it's so sad," he said in a trembling voice, "it's so sad." And he sat there with a whiskey in his hand that was the saddest thing he'd ever seen .His eyes blurred for a while, and then began to sparkle.Alice stood up slowly in horror. "I'm a mess, Mom," he said, "a horrible mess." He put his hands over his face, the horrible mess stuck like a hard lump in his throat and chest.Alice wasn't quite sure what to do, she just walked over and put his arms around his shoulders lightly.And Auberon knew he was about to cry like a child, though he hadn't in years; and he never had, even for Sylvie.The terrible mess in his chest grew heavier and stronger until at last it exploded, forcing him to open his mouth and shudder in sounds he didn't recognize himself.Okay, okay, he told himself, okay, okay, but he couldn't stop, because the more he cried, the more he wanted to cry.He had an overwhelming emotional outburst, so he put his head on the kitchen table and wailed loudly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said when he was finally able to speak again, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." "No," Alice hugged him who was still stubbornly wearing the coat, "don't say that, what are you sorry for?" He suddenly raised his head, broke free from her arm, and finally stopped after sobbing again, His chest was heaving and rising. "Is it because of..." Alice whispered vigilantly, "Is it because of that dark girl?" "Oh," said Auberon, "a part, a part." "And that stupid legacy." "Part of it." She saw the corner of a handkerchief protruding from his pocket, and she helped him out. "Come on," she said, shocked that the tear-stained face in front of her was not her wailing young son, but a stranger she barely recognized, completely changed by the pain.She looked at the handkerchief in her hand. "It's beautiful," she said, "It looks a lot like..." "Yeah." Auberon took it and wiped his face. "Lucy did it." He blew his nose. "It was a present. She gave it to me when I left home. She said she would open it when I got home." He smiled, but it seemed like he was crying, or else crying and laughing at the same time.He swallowed. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" He stuffed it back into his pocket, and sat there hunched over in a daze. "Oh my God," he said, "uh, that's embarrassing." "No, no." She took his hand.She was torn because he needed advice and she couldn't give him any advice.She knew where to go for advice, but she didn't know if he could get it there, and she didn't know if she should ask him to go there. "It's okay, you know," she said, "it's really okay because..." She hesitated. "Because it's okay, nothing will happen." "Oh, of course," he sighed heavily, "it's over." "No," Alice squeezed his hand even harder, "no, it's not over, but...well, whatever happens, it's...well, part of destiny, right? I mean, nothing is not meant to be, right?" "I don't know," said Auberon, "what do I know." She held his hand, but, oh, he was too big now, she couldn't take him in her arms, hold him to her chest, tell him everything, tell him that long story.Because it was too long and weird, he often fell asleep before he finished listening to it, and was soothed by her voice, body temperature, heartbeat and her calm and steady voice, and then, then, then... what's even better, the strange是，而结果……在他还小的时候，她不知道该怎么诉说这个故事，而等到她终于知道的时候，他的年纪却已经太大，不可能再把他抱在怀里低声讲故事了，而他也不会再相信。但一切还是会发生，而且是发生在他身上。只是她无法忍受看见他陷在这样的黑暗中却什么也不说。 “好吧。”她依然握着他的手，清清喉咙，去除喉头的那份沙哑。 （她自己的眼泪是好几年前就已经哭干了，这件事她究竟是高兴还是不高兴？）接着她说：“好吧，你愿意为我做一件事吗？” “好啊，当然。” “今天晚上，不，明天早上，你知道那个旧凉亭在哪里吗？那座小岛？好吧，你只要沿着那条小溪走上去，就会来到一座有瀑布的池塘，你知道吧？” “是啊，当然。” “好。”她说着，深深吸了口气。接着她又说一声“好吧”，然后给了他一些指示，要他发誓完全照着执行。至于他为什么必须这么做，她只说出一部分理由，而他也一头雾水地答应了。但由于已经在她面前大声哭过，他对这项计划与这些理由都已没有任何异议。 通往菜园的门开了，史墨基走进来。但他还来不及绕过夏季厨房的转角，艾丽斯就已经拍拍奥伯龙的手、露出微笑，把手指放到自己唇上再按到他唇上，示意他三缄其口。 “今晚吃兔子肉？”史墨基说着走进厨房，“什么事这么让人兴奋？”看见奥伯龙时，他夸张地倒退了两步，书本从他腋下滑落。 “嗨，嗨。”奥伯龙说，很高兴终于有个人被他吓到了。 索菲也知道奥伯龙即将返家，只是奥伯龙搭巴士，害她的计算产生了一天的误差。她有一大堆建议与一肚子的疑问，但奥伯龙不想要任何建议，而她也看得出她的问题不会得到什么答案，因此她什么也没问：目前他愿意说的就这么多而已，贫乏无比，即便他已在大城度过了十几个月。 晚餐时她说：“噢。大家能团圆在一起真好。就这么一个晚上。” 由于好几个月来都只吃热狗和放了一整天的丹麦面包，奥伯龙狼吞虎咽。他抬头看了索菲一眼，但她已经望向别处，似乎完全没意识到自己说了奇怪的话。接着泰西就开始描述彻丽·莱克如何结婚才一年就离婚的故事。 “妈，这真好吃。”奥伯龙说着又装了一盘，心头依然困惑。 饭后他跟史墨基在书房里进行城市比较：史墨基多年前的大城印象，相对于奥伯龙眼中的大城。 “最棒的事，”史墨基说，“或者最刺激的事，就是你随时觉得自己走在游行队伍的最前端。我的意思是，就算只是坐在自己的房间里都能感受到：你知道在外面的街道上和建筑物里，队伍正不断推进，轰、轰、轰，而你就是当中的一分子，其他地方的人都是踉踉跄跄地跟在后面而已。你知道我的意思吧？” “也许吧，”奥伯龙说，“我想情况已经不一样了。”他在自己的旧衣物里找到一件黑毛衣和一条长裤，此刻穿在身上颇有哈姆雷特的味道，蜷曲着身子坐在一张镶扣的皮椅上。房内亮着一盏孤零零的灯，照亮了史墨基打开的那瓶白兰地。艾丽斯提议他们父子俩促膝长谈一番，他们却找不到什么话题。“我一直觉得其他地方的人都已经完全忘了我们的存在。”他拿起酒杯，史墨基帮他倒了些白兰地。 “呃，但那些人潮，”史墨基说，“那些热闹喧嚣的场面、那些锦衣华服的人，大家都在赶着赴约……” “嗯哼。”奥伯龙说。 “我觉得……” “呃，我的意思是，我认为我知道你所说的想法，我的意思是你觉得……” “我想我认为……” “我猜是变了。”奥伯龙说。 两人一阵沉默，各自盯着自己的杯子。“好吧，”史墨基说，“总之呢。你是怎么遇到她的？” “谁？”奥伯龙一阵僵硬。有些话题他完全不打算跟史墨基谈。他们可以靠纸牌和第三只眼刺探他的内心、得知他的秘密，光是这点就已经够惨了。 “来访的那位女士呀，”史墨基说，“那位霍克斯奎尔小姐。索菲所谓的爱丽尔表姑。” “哦。在一座公园里遇到的。我们聊了起来……是一座小公园，据说是……你知道吧，老约翰和他们公司的人盖的，不知在多少年前。” “一座小公园，”史墨基讶异地说，“有一些奇怪的蜿蜒小径……” “是啊。”奥伯龙说。 “看似通往公园内部，但其实不然，还有……” "yes." “喷泉、雕像、一座小桥……” "Yeah yeah." “我以前常去那里，”史墨基说，“你喜欢那儿吗？” 奥伯龙其实不怎么喜欢。He was silent. “不知为何，”史墨基说，“它总是让我想起艾丽斯。”史墨基突然回到过去，鲜活地回忆起那座充满夏日气息的小公园，再次感受到他与妻子初恋的那个季节——几乎都要尝到那味道了。就在奥伯龙这个年纪。“你喜欢那公园吗？”他做梦似的又说了一次，品尝从多年前那个夏天蒸馏出来的水果甘露。他看着奥伯龙。奥伯龙阴郁地盯着自己的酒杯。史墨基意识到自己碰到了某个痛处或触及某个禁忌的话题。还真奇怪，同一座公园……“好吧，”他清了清喉咙，“她似乎是个很不简单的女士。” 奥伯龙用手抹抹额头。 “我是指这位霍克斯奎尔女士。” “噢。哦，是呀。”这回换奥伯龙清喉咙了。他喝了口酒。“我以为她是疯子，说不定她就是。” “哦？噢，我倒不这么认为。再疯也没比……她确实浑身是劲。还想把房子从上到下参观一遍。她也说了一些有趣的话。我们还爬上旧观星仪。她说她也有一座，就在她大城的房子里，不一样，但原理相同，说不定还是同一个人打造的。”他变得兴奋且满怀希望，“你知道吗？她认为我们可以把它修好。我说那东西已经全部生锈，因为你知道吧，主轮不知为何突出在半空中，但她说，呃，她认为基本组件都还可以。我不知道她是怎么看的，但应该会很好玩吧？过了这么多年啦！我打算试试看。把它清理一番，看看……” 奥伯龙看着父亲，接着笑了起来。那张可爱、单纯的大脸。他之前怎会认为……“你知道吗？”他说，“我小时候一直认为它确实会动。” "what?" “是真的。我一直认为它确实会动，我还以为自己可以证明它真的在动。” “你是说它自己会动？怎么动？” “我不知道怎么动的，”奥伯龙说，“但我始终认为它在动，而且你们大家都知道它在动，只是不想让我知道。” 史墨基也笑了。“呃，为什么？”他说，“我的意思是，我们为何瞒着你？况且再说呢，它要怎么动？它拿什么当动力？” “我不知道啊，爸。”奥伯龙笑得愈来愈厉害，但笑声好像快要变成眼泪，“自己动。我不知道。”他从那张镶扣皮椅上站起来。“我以为……”他说，“噢！天杀的，我没办法重建当时的情况了，我为什么认为这件事很重要，我的意思是我说不上来我那时为何认为这件事这么重要，但我觉得我一定会揭发你们……” “什么？什么？”史墨基说，“你为啥不问呢？我的意思是，只要一个简单的问题……” “爸，”奥伯龙说，“你觉得在这屋子里有什么简单的问题是你能问的吗？” “这个嘛……”史墨基说。 “好吧，”奥伯龙说，“好啦，我问你一个简单的问题，好吗？” 史墨基正襟危坐。奥伯龙已经不是在说笑了。 "Okay," he said. “你相信精灵存在吗？”奥伯龙问。 史墨基抬头仰望高大的儿子。在他俩共同度过的岁月里，他和奥伯龙似乎始终背对着背，像是被固定成那个样子，怎么也无法转身。他们若想沟通就得靠迂回曲折的方式，再不然就是透过其他人或伸长脖子歪着嘴说话，只能猜测对方的表情与行动。不时会有其中一方试图猛然转过身去让对方来个出其不意，但这招向来不怎么奏效，因为对方还是在背后，面对着相反方向，就像那种古老的杂耍戏。最后他们只好放弃，因为以那样的姿势努力沟通、努力表达自己的意思实在太辛苦。但如今奥伯龙已经缓缓转过身——也许是因为他在大城的遭遇（管它是什么），也可能是因为时间削弱了那一道让他俩无法分开也无法靠近的束缚。Turn around slowly.这时史墨基只要转过去面对他就好。 “这个嘛……”他说，“'相信'……我不知道啊，'相信'这个词……” “喂喂，”奥伯龙说，“别引经据典。” 这时，奥伯龙已经站在那儿俯视着他，等着他回答。“好吧，”史墨基说，“答案是不相信。” “好哇！”奥伯龙带着一种阴郁的胜利感说道。 “我从没相信过。” "Hurrah." “当然了，”史墨基说，“在这屋子里实在不应该这么说的，你知道吧，也不该单刀直入地问问题，但我从来不想因为不……不参与……而让人扫兴。所以我什么也不说。从来不问问题。特别是简单的问题。我只是希望你注意到了这点，因为这并不是每次都很容易。” “我知道。”奥伯龙说。 史墨基垂下视线。“真抱歉，”他说，“我骗了你——倘若我骗你的话，但我不认为我骗了。我也很抱歉我好像时时刻刻都在窥探你，想弄清楚一切——但我应该要知道一切的，跟你们一样。”他叹了口气。“不容易啊，”他说，“活在谎言里。” “等等，”奥伯龙说，“爸。” “你们好像都不介意，真的。我想只有你除外。好吧。而且'他们'好像也不介意我不相信他们存在，反正故事还是会照常进行，对吧？只是我承认我确实有一点点嫉妒，至少以前会。嫉妒你们这些知道真相的人。” “听着，爸，听着。” “不，没关系。”史墨基说。倘若要他面对，他就彻底面对。“只是……好啦，我一直觉得你，只有你可以解释给我听。觉得你很想解释，却没办法解释。不，没关系。”他举起一只手阻挡儿子说出任何遁辞或虚与委蛇的话。“她们……我是指艾丽斯、索菲、克劳德姑婆，甚至还有你姊姊，我想她们已经把能说的都说了，只是她们说出口的从来都不是什么解释，根本不算'解释'，但也许她们认为那就是解释，也许她们觉得她们已经解释了一遍又一遍，我只是太笨听不懂。也许我确实太笨。但我以前总觉得你，我也不知道为什么，总之我以为我或许可以懂你，觉得你好像随时都会说溜嘴……” "dad……" “总觉得我们第一步就走错了，因为你得保守秘密，所以你也必须躲着我……” “不！不不不……” “所以你若觉得我一直在窥伺你、刺探你，那我真的很抱歉，只是……” “爸，爸，你可以听我说一下话吗？” “但是好吧，既然我们现在问的是简单的问题，我倒想知道你们究竟……” “我什么也不知道！”他这样大声一嚷似乎惊醒了史墨基。他抬起头，看见儿子脸上有种不知是指责还是忏悔的扭曲之色，眼里还闪烁着疯狂的光。 "what?" “我啥也不知道！”奥伯龙突然在父亲面前蹲下，他整个童年都以一种令人晕眩的方式上下颠倒了。这让他很想狂笑。“啥也不知道！” “少来了，”史墨基困惑地说，“我还以为我们要打开天窗说亮话呢。” “我真的啥也不知道！” “那你干吗一天到晚遮遮掩掩？” “遮掩什么？” “你知道的事啊！有一本秘密日记，还有那一大堆诡异的暗示……” “老爸，老爸。倘若我真的知道什么你不知道的事，真的知道的话，我又怎会认为那个旧观星仪在动，只是没有人愿意承认呢？还有那本《乡间宅邸建筑》，你都不解释给我听……” “什么我不解释！是你自以为懂那是什么吧……” “好吧，那莱拉克又怎么说？” “莱拉克怎么了？” “好吧，她到底遭遇了什么事？我是指索菲的莱拉克。为什么都没有人告诉我？”他抓住父亲的手，“她怎么了？她到哪去了？” “呃？”史墨基的挫败感已经超出他所能承受的限度，“她到底去了哪里？” 他俩狂乱地瞪着彼此，满腹疑问却没有任何答案，接着就在同一刻领悟到这点。史墨基往自己额头上一拍。“但你怎么可能以为我……以为我……我的意思是，我不是很明显什么都不知道吗……” “噢，我猜不透呀，”奥伯龙说，“我想过你有可能是装的。但我没办法确定。我怎么可能确定呢？我不能冒险。” “那你干吗不……” “别说了，”奥伯龙说，“别说'你干吗不问'。总之别这样说。” “噢，老天爷，”史墨基笑着说，“哦，天杀的。” 奥伯龙一边摇头一边在地板上坐下。“花了那么多力气，”他说，“还真是白费功夫。” “我想，”史墨基说，“我想再来点白兰地，如果你拿得到那瓶酒的话。”他把他滚到黑暗里的酒杯找了回来。奥伯龙为他跟自己都倒了一些酒，两人就这样沉默地坐了好一会儿，不时瞥向对方，一边轻笑一边摇头。“噢，还真扯。”史墨基说。 “还有一种更扯的状况，”片刻之后他又补充，“那就是我们所有人其实全都一无所知。假设我们，假设你跟我两个人现在冲进你妈房间……”他笑了，“然后说：喂……” “不知道，”奥伯龙说，“我打赌……” “没错，”史墨基说，“没错，我很肯定。好吧。”他想起医生。多年前的某个十月午后，他曾和史墨基出去打了一场猎：那一天，身为瓦奥莱特孙子的医生建议史墨基某些事情最好不要深究。别去刺探那些既定的事、那些无可更改的事。现在又有谁能得知医生自己知道些什么呢，毕竟都被他带进坟墓了。史墨基抵达艾基伍德的第一天，克劳德姑婆就曾说过：女人的感受比较深，但男人也许更加为它所苦……由于跟一群守口如瓶的保密者相处了一辈子，他学到了很多，因此他能骗过奥伯龙倒也没什么好讶异的，毕竟他已从大师级人物那儿学到了如何保密，虽然他根本没什么秘密要保护。但他突然想到他确实有秘密：虽然无法告诉奥伯龙莱拉克究竟怎么了，但关于她和整个巴纳柏家族，还是有一些事情是他从未说出口也永远不打算跟他儿子提起的。他为此感到罪恶。面对面：好吧。奥伯龙是不是怀疑到这点，所以揉揉眉毛、再次盯着杯子看？ No.奥伯龙想的是西尔维，想的是母亲交代他明天到湖中小岛上游的树林里进行的那件古怪的事。想起她在他父亲进来时，把手指按在自己唇上再按到他唇上，示意他守口如瓶。他举起食指，摸了摸最近才莫名其妙从鼻粱上方长出来、将他的眉毛连成一线的新生毛发。 “你知道吗，就某个角度而言，”史墨基说，“我有点遗憾你回来了。” "Oh?" “不，我当然不是遗憾你回来，只是……呃，我原本有个计划的，你若再不写信或再不现身，我就要出发去找你了。” "right?" “是啊。”他笑了，“噢，一定会是场不简单的长征。我连要打包哪些东西都已经开始想了。” “你实在应该来的。”奥伯龙说，但却咧嘴而笑。史墨基没真的跑来，他反而松了口气。 “说不定会很好玩。再次见见大城。”他有一刻又神游回到了过去，“好吧。我自己一个人八成会走失。” “是啊，”他对着父亲微笑，“八成会。但还是谢了，爸。” “好吧，”史墨基说，“好吧。老天爷，瞧瞧几点了。” 他跟着父亲走上宽阔的正厅楼梯。 阶梯一如往昔发出嘎吱声响。对他而言夜里的屋子就跟白天一样熟悉，满是他已经遗忘的细节。 他们在走廊转角处分开。 “好吧，好好睡。”史墨基说，两人一起站在史墨基手里的蜡烛散发出来的光晕里。倘若奥伯龙不是提着他肮脏的袋子、史墨基不是拿着蜡烛，他俩也许会互相拥抱，但也可能不会。“找得到你的房间吗？” "certainly." "Good night." "Good night." 他走了十五步半，途中撞上了那个突兀的橱柜（他总是忘记那儿有个柜子），然后伸手摸到了那有棱有角的玻璃门把。虽然知道床头柜上有蜡烛和火柴，知道要去哪里拿这些东西，也知道可以在伤痕累累的桌子底面点燃火柴，但他进入房里时还是没有点亮任何灯光。房内的气味仿佛一阵古老的低语，对他喃喃诉说着往事（有他自己透凉、微弱但熟悉的味道，混着儿童的气息，因为莉莉的双胞胎曾经借住在这儿）。他一动不动地在那儿站了一会儿，透过嗅觉看见了那张扶手椅，它承载了童年的无数快乐时光。这椅子对他而言够大且没装弹簧，因此他可以抱着一本书或一叠纸张蜷缩在那里，旁边静静地亮着一盏台灯，桌上则放着牛奶和饼干或热茶和吐司，在灯光下散发着阵阵热气。还有那个大衣橱：只要门没关好，就会有鬼魅和不怀好意的人物从里面溜出来吓他（这些曾经如此熟悉的人物都到哪儿去了？死了，死于寂寞，因为已经没有人可以吓唬）。还有那张狭窄的床、床上厚厚的被子和那两个枕头。虽然睡觉时只用一个，但他从很小就坚持要有两个枕头。他喜欢那份奢华感：着实吸引人。它们全都在那儿。这些气味重重地压迫他的灵魂，像链条，像重新扛起的重担。 他在黑暗中脱下衣服，爬进冷冷的被窝里。就像拥抱着他自己。自从在青春期猛然长得跟黛莉·艾丽斯一样高之后，他每次躺上床，两脚就会挂在床尾边缘，在床垫上压出两道凹痕。如今他的脚就躺在那对凹痕里。隆起的部分还是在老地方。枕头倒是只有一个，而且有股淡淡的尿骚味。cat?还是小孩？他认为自己是睡不着了。他无法确定他究竟是懊悔自己没有厚着脸皮多喝一些史墨基的白兰地，还是高兴自己终于有了失眠的痛苦：从今晚开始，他要补偿的可多了。反正他清醒着有一大堆事可以思考。他小心翼翼地翻过身，进入二号睡姿（他有一套固定的睡姿变换方式），就这样在熟悉而令人窒息的黑暗里清醒地躺了良久。