Chapter 23 II

Sophie went to bed early, too, but didn't go to sleep. She was wearing an old pajama coat and a sweater over it, and she was huddled next to the candle on the bedside table, only sticking out two fingers from under the quilt to read the second part of an old trilogy novel .When the candle was about to burn out, she took another one out of the table drawer and lit it, stuck it in the candlestick, sighed, and turned to the next page.She was a long way from that last wedding, and now that the will had just been hidden in an old cabinet, the bishop's daughter was thinking about the ball.Sophie's door opened and a child entered.

She was only wearing a blue dress, without sleeves or belt.She took a step from the door, her hand still on the doorknob, with a smile on her face, like a child with a big secret, not sure whether this secret will make the adults in front of her happy or angry.For a long while, she just stood by the door, shimmering in the candlelight, looking up at Sophie who was frozen on the bed with her chin drawn down and her eyes raised. Then she said, "Hello, Sophie." She looked exactly as Sophie had imagined, just at the age when Sophie could no longer imagine her.A gust of wind blew in through the door and made the candle flicker and cast strange shadows on the child, so that for a moment Sophie felt that she had never been so frightened, never had such a strange feeling in her life, but it was not. ghost.Sophie saw it when the child turned to close the heavy door.Ghosts don't close their doors.

She clasped her hands behind her back and walked slowly towards the bed, with that mysterious smile still on her face.She said to Sophie, "Can you guess my name?" For some reason, it was more difficult for Sophie to accept her talking than just standing there.For the first time, Sophie realized what it meant not to believe her ears: her ears told her that the child had spoken to her, but Sophie didn't believe it, let alone how to answer it.As if speaking to a part of herself: that part suddenly and inexplicably broke away from her, and then turned to face her and ask her questions.

The child chuckled and had a good time. "You can't guess," she said, "how about a hint?" hint!It wasn't a ghost or a dream, because Sophie was awake.But it definitely wasn't her daughter, because her daughter was taken away twenty-five years ago, and the person in front of her was a child.But of course Sophie knew her name.She covered her face with her hands and whispered through her fingers, "Lylac." Lilac looked a little disappointed. "That's right," she said, "how do you know that?" Sophie laughed, but it also seemed to be crying, or crying and laughing at the same time. "Lilac," she said.

Lilac smiled, ready to climb onto her mother's bed, so Sophie had to reach out to help: she grabbed Lilac's arm, full of doubts, afraid of feeling something in herself, and if it did, then—then what?But the Lilak in front of her was a real and cool flesh and blood body, and her fingers were indeed wrapped around a child's wrist.She pulled Lilac's heavy weight up with all her might, and the bed shook as Lilac's knees pressed against the mattress, so that every Sophie's senses were sure: Lilac was back in front of her. "Okay," Lilac said, pushing the blond hair from her eyes in one quick motion, "you weren't startled?" She looked at Sophie's terrified face. "Won't you greet me or give me a kiss?"

"Lilac." Sophie just said her name again.Because for so many years, there was one thing Sophie had never dared to think about: she had never dared to imagine the scene in front of her, so she was unprepared.If she had allowed herself to imagine this moment, this child, she would have thought exactly the same.But because she had never imagined it, she was caught off guard and distraught. "You should say," Lilac instructs Sophie (it's not easy to memorize all the lines, but she should be right), "you should say, 'Hi, Lilac, I was taken aback.' Because you haven't seen me since I was a baby. Then I'll say, 'I've come from a long way to tell you this.' Then you listen to me, but before that, you have to Let me tell you how much you miss me after I was stolen, and then we'll give you a hug." She opened her arms, made a face brighten, and hinted at Sophie with an ecstatic expression, so Sophie could only open her arms , trying to hug Lilac slowly (at this point she was no longer afraid, but she was still deeply shy in the face of such an impossible thing).

"You say, 'I was taken aback,'" Lilac reminded her in her ear. Lilac smelled of snow and dirt and herself. "It really shocked me," Sophie said, but she couldn't go on, because she was choked up with grief and wonder, all that had been taken from her and all that she had given up over the years came to her heart with tears .Sophie was crying, which frightened Lilac, so she tried to back away, but Sophie kept holding her, so Lilac had to pat her on the back to comfort her. "Yes," she said to her mother, "yes, I'm back. I've come a long way, a long way."

She may have come a long, long way, but factual or not, she remembers it well: she had to say it.But she doesn't remember any long journey, so she either sleepwalked and woke up when she was almost there, or the journey was very short at all... "Sleepwalking?" Sophie asked. "I've been sleeping," Lilac said, "for a long time. I didn't know I'd been asleep. Even longer than those bears. Oh, I've been sleeping since the day I woke you up .Do you remember?" "Don't remember," Sophie said. "One day," said Lilac, "I stole your sleep. I yelled, 'Wake up!' and pulled your hair."

"Stole my sleep?" "Because I needed it. I'm so sorry," she said cheerfully. "That day?" Sophie said, thinking to herself: It's strange, so old and stuffed with so many memories, but life is still upside down, like a child... that day.Has she slept since that day? "I've been sleeping since that day," Lilac said, "and here I am." "Here. From where?" "From there. From sleep. Anyway..." Anyway she awoke from the longest dream in the world, forgetting all or nearly all, and found herself walking a dark road at dusk, with snow-covered fields on either side, and the sky still cold, pink and blue color.She had a task in front of her, and she was ready before she fell asleep, and even after sleeping for so long, she still didn't forget it.Everything is clear.So Lilac wasn't confused.After all, she'd had enough of it growing up: suddenly finding herself in some weird situation, going from one spell to another, like a sleeping child being lifted out of bed. At a celebration, he woke up blinking and dumbstruck, but accepted everything calmly, because he was holding his familiar hand.So she went step by step, saw a crow, climbed a hill, saw the last ray of sunset disappear, watched the sky turn pink and the snow turn blue.Only then, as she descended the hill, did she begin to wonder where she was and how far she had to go.

There was a cottage at the bottom of the hill, surrounded by dense small evergreen trees, with yellow lights in the windows in the dark blue of the twilight.Lilac pushed open the small white gate in the fence (there was a jingle from inside the house now), and walked up the path.A dwarf head that had stood there for years gazed out over the snow-covered lawn, its tall hat doubled by a layer of snow. "It's the Junipers," Sophie said. "what?" "It's the Junipers' house," Sophie said. "That's their cottage." There was a very old old woman there, the oldest Lilac had ever seen (with the exception of Mrs. Underhill and her daughters).She opened the door, held up a lamp, and said in a feeble old voice, "Friend or foe? Oh, my God." For on the path before her stood a child, almost naked, without shoes. Neither was wearing a hat.

Margaret Juniper did nothing stupid.She just opened the door to see if Lilac would come in, and after a moment's consideration Lilac decided to go in, so she went in, across the small vestibule, past the rug, past the ornamented chest of drawers ( No one had dusted for a long time, because Maggie was afraid she would break things at her age, and she couldn't see the dust anyway), then through the archway into the living room where a fire was burning in the fire.Maggie followed with a lantern, but hesitated to go in when she reached the door.She watched the kid sit down in the maple chair that had belonged to Jeff, laying his hands flat on the wide, flat arms, as if pleased or amused.Then she looked up at Maggie. "May I ask you," she said, "is this the way to Edgewood?" "Exactly," Maggie said.Somehow she wasn't surprised to be asked this question. "Oh," said Lilac, "I've got to send a message there." She raised her arms and legs toward the fire, but she didn't seem really cold, and Maggie wasn't surprised by that. "How far is it?" "A few hours," Maggie said. "Oh. How many are there?" "I've never been there on foot," Maggie said. "Oh. Well, I walk fast." She jumped up and pointed in one direction questioningly, and Maggie shook her head in disapproval, so Lilac smiled and pointed in the opposite direction.Maggie nodded yes.She made way for Lilac to pass again, and followed her to the door. "Thank you," Lilac said, putting his hand on the door.Maggie gave Lilac a large bar of chocolate from a large bowl of bills and candies by the door (she usually rewarded boys who helped her clear the roads or chop wood for her), and Lilac accepted it with a smile. , stood on tiptoe and kissed Maggie's old cheek.Then she went all the way down the path, toward Edgewood without looking back. Maggie stood at the door watching her, suddenly filled with a strange feeling, as if she had lived so old just to wait for this little visit; All this chain of events was arranged for this visit.At the same time, Lilac, who was walking fast, also remembered that it was "of course" that he would visit that cottage and say those things to the old woman-she remembered it because of the taste of chocolate.And by the next evening, a night as silent and as blue (if not more so) than tonight, people in the five towns around Edgewood would learn that Maggie Juniper had a visitor. "But," Sophie said, "you can't start at dusk and come here now..." "I walk very fast," Lilac said, "or maybe I'm taking a shortcut." Whichever way she went, she passed a frozen lake and an island in the center, all glistening in the light of the stars, and a small gazebo, which might have been a phantom of snow.Then she walks through the woods, wakes up a chickadee, and passes a place that kind of looks like a castle with snowflakes... "It's the summer house," said Sophie. ... She had seen this place before, in another season from far above.She came across the flowerbeds at the edge of the lawn, all barren except for the dead stems of hollyhocks and mullein sticking out of the snow.There was the gray remains of a deck chair in the yard.Seeing these things, she thought to herself: Is there any message or condolences to be sent here?She stopped for a moment, looking at the unoccupied chair and the low house, the summery screen door half covered with snow, and not a single footprint in front of it.She shivered for the first time, but couldn't remember what the message was or who it was addressed to (assuming there was such a message to deliver), so she moved on. "Auberon," said Sophie. "No," said Lilac, "not Auberon." She walked through the cemetery, not knowing that it was a cemetery.The first person buried there was John Drinkwater, and others were buried at or near him, some he knew and some he didn't.Lilac couldn't figure out what the purpose of the large, randomly placed steles looked like giant forgotten toys.She studied for a while, walking from one stele to the next, brushing the snow off them, looking at the statues of mournful angels, the deeply chiseled lettering, and the granite pinnacles.At the same time, under her feet, separated by snow, black leaves and mud, the stiff bones finally relaxed, and the hollow chest almost let out a sigh. Although the ancient concerns and expectations were not relieved by death, they were relieved at this moment.When Lilak steps over their graves, the dead finally sink into a deeper rest and truly sleep, just as disturbing dreams or sounds (such as the cries of a cat or a lost child) finally end, the sleepers finally fall asleep. "Violet," said Sophie, the tears finally being able to flow freely, "and John, and Harvey Cloud, and Aunt Claude. Papa. And Violet's father, And Auberon. And Auberon." Yes: and Auberon: that Auberon.Standing on old Auberon's grave, Lilac felt her message and purpose became clearer.Everything became clearer and clearer, as if she had become more sober after waking up. "Oh, yes," she murmured, "oh, yes..." She turned her head and saw through the black fir trees the dark house, without a light, covered with snow like the fir trees, but It, yes.She soon found a path to the house, an entry door, a flight of stairs, and many doors with glass handles. "And now," she said, kneeling on the bed in front of Sophie, "I have something to tell you. "If I remember everything." "So I guessed right," said Sophie.The third candle is also about to burn out.It was cold, deep midnight. "Only a few left." "Fifty-two," said Lilac, "all counted." "Very little." "Because of the war," said Lilac, "they're all gone. The rest are old—very old. You can't imagine." "But why?" said Sophie. "Why would they do it if they knew the casualties would be so high?" Lilac shrugged and looked away.This item doesn't seem to be explained in her mission, she is only responsible for bringing news and issuing summons.She also couldn't explain to Sophie what happened to her after being stolen, how to live: when Sophie asked, she answered in the same way as all children, but quickly mentioned that a large number of listeners didn't know each other at all. Strangers and events, and believe that the other party will understand, that adults must be as familiar with these things as children.But Lilac was different from the other kids. "You know that," she said impatiently when Sophie pressed, and then went back to the message she had to send on her trip: the war must end, there must be a peace conference, there must be a parliament, and all who can Everyone who came had to come, to sort this out, to end this long period of misery. A parliament where all those present must be face to face.Face to face: When Lilac said this to her, Sophie suddenly became dizzy and her heart stopped for a few seconds, as if what Lilac announced to her was the date of her death, or something as unalterable and unimaginable as death . "So you have to come," said Lilac, "you have to. Because there are not many of them left now, and the war has to end. We have to make an agreement, and it's for everyone's benefit." "A deal." "Otherwise they'd all disappear," Lilac said. "Winter might go on forever and never end. They can do it, they must: that's the last thing they can do." "Oh," said Sophie, "no. Oh, no." "It's up to you," Lilac said in a menacing tone.Then, having conveyed the solemn message, she opened her arms. "So, okay?" she said cheerfully. "Will you all come? Everyone?" Sophie pressed her lips with cold knuckles.Here in this room full of winter dust, there was Lilac, smiling, alive, and beaming; and the news.Sophie felt as if she had been emptied and disappeared.If there was one person present who was a ghost, it was Sophie and not her daughter. her daughter! "But how?" she said. "How do we get there?" Lilac looked at her dejectedly. "Don't you know?" she said. "I knew it before," Sophie said, choking again. "I used to think I'd find it, I used to... Hey, why did you wait so long!" She caught a painful glimpse of the possibilities Lilac mentioned. Sex, only they were withered and dead, buried deep within her: because Sophie had killed all hope that Lilac would never sit here and talk about them.She'd lived with those dire possibilities (Lyrac dead, or completely transformed) for too long to face them, but instead she wouldn't allow herself to believe the ancient prophecies of Tessie and Lily (although she did Calculating the year, even trying to figure out a date with cards).It was exhausting and costly, because in trying to stop herself from imagining the moment, she had lost all sense of childhood certainty, disconnected from the miraculous events that were commonplace, not even every vivid moment. She lost all the relevant memories unconsciously, and forgot the sweet and absurd sense of wonder she once immersed in it.She protects herself in this way, because it keeps her from getting hurt—or dying, because it’s possible, after all—to keep imagining this moment.She can at least live a day.But too many empty, dark years have passed, too many years. "I can't help it," she said, "I don't know. I don't know the way." "You must know," Lilac said succinctly. "I don't know," said Sophie, shaking her head. "I don't know. Even if I knew, I would be afraid." Scared!It was the worst thing: afraid to leave the dark old house, like a ghost. "It's been too long," she said, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her sweater. "It's been too long." "But this house is the door!" said Lilac. "Everybody knows it. It's marked on all the maps." "Have it?" "Yes. So." "From here?" Lilac stared at her blankly. "Uh," she said. "I'm sorry, Lilac," said Sophie, "I've had a sad life, you know..." "Oh? Oh, I see!" Lilac's eyes lit up. "That deck of cards! Where is it?" "There." Sophie pointed to the Crystal Palace box made of different woods on the bedside table.Lilac reached for it and pulled the lid off. "Why have you been sad all your life?" she asked, taking out the cards. "Why?" said Sophie, "partly because you were stolen, mostly..." "Oh, that. That's all right." "It's okay?" Sophie cried and laughed. "It's okay. That's just the beginning." She shuffled the big deck of cards clumsily with her small hands, "Don't you know?" "Don't know. No, I thought... I thought that was the end." "Oh, what a fool. If I hadn't been taken away, I wouldn't have been able to get an education, and if I hadn't been educated, I wouldn't be able to bring the news now that it's really going to start. So nothing before It's okay, can't you see it?" Sophie watched her shuffle.With a comical air of deliberation, she dropped some cards and put them back in again.Sophie tried to imagine what Lilac's life had been like all these years, but couldn't at all. "Did you..." she asked, "miss me, Lilac?" Lilac shrugged and went to work on his own. "Okay," she handed the whole deck of cards to Sophie, "just follow this." Sophie slowly took the cards from her hand, and for a moment, Lilac seemed to see her, since she entered the room This seemed to be the first time she had actually seen her since. "Sophie," she said, "don't be sad. It's bigger than you think." She took Sophie's hand. "Oh, there's a fountain there - or a waterfall, I don't remember - you can bathe there - oh, the water is so clear and cold! And - oh, that's it, anyway it's better than you think Much bigger!" She climbed out of bed. "Go to bed now," she said, "I have to go." "Where are we going? I can't sleep, Lilac." "You'll fall asleep," Lilac said. "You can, and now, because I'm awake." "Oh?" She leaned back slowly, lying on the pillow Lilac had arranged for her. "Because," said Lilac, smiling enigmatically again, "because I stole your sleep before, but now I'm awake so you can sleep." Exhausted, Sophie clutched the deck tightly. "Where are you," she said, "where are you going? It's dark and cold outside." Lilac shuddered, but all she said was, "Go to sleep." She stood on tiptoe beside the bed, brushed the gray hair from Sophie's cheek, and kissed her lightly. "Go to sleep." She stepped across the floor without a sound, opened the door, glanced back at her mother, and then stepped out into the quiet and cold corridor outside.She closes the door. Sophie lay there staring at the door.The third candle hissed and went out with a pop.Still holding the deck of cards, Sophie crawled into bed slowly, thinking (or maybe not thinking, but with a certain feeling) that Lilac must have lied to her on some level, at least on some level Misled her.But which level? sleep. Which level?Her mind thought like breathing: Which level?While she was thinking about it, she found that she had fallen asleep, and her soul was so pleasantly surprised that she almost woke up again. Auberon yawned early in the morning as he scanned the mail that Fred Savage had brought from the north of town the night before. "Dear," one woman wrote in peacock-green ink, "I am writing to ask you a question I have been thinking about. If possible, I would like to know, 'Where the McReynolds family lived? Where is the house?' I must admit that it is personally important to me. I must know exactly where. I would not have written to bother if I hadn't found it utterly unimaginable. They used to live in the Boulevard When I was there (it's been a long time!), well, I can easily imagine, but I can't imagine where they live now. Please give me a hint. I have forgotten all about it." She said in Signed "with great anticipation," and added a note: "I promise not to bother anyone." Auberon glanced at the postmark—it was from the West—and threw the letter into the firewood. box. What was he doing waking up so early, he thought, not to read letters.He glanced at the old square wristwatch on the mantelpiece, it was Grandpa's.Oh, yes: milking.All week.He roughly adjusted the sheets, put his hand under the footboard, said, "Come on," and turned it into an old wardrobe with a mirror front.It snapped into standing position with a sound that always pleased him. Looking out the window at the fine snow falling, he put on his boots and thick sweater.He yawned again (Will George have coffee? Anticipating), pushed his hat back on his head, and stomped out, locking the folding bedroom door, then down the stairs, out the window, and walked. Go down the fire escape, into the hall, through the hole in the wall, and up the stairs leading to the Maus's kitchen. He meets George at the foot of the stairs. "You won't believe it," said George. Auberon paused.George said nothing more.He looked like he had seen a ghost: Auberon recognized the look at once, though he had never seen anyone who saw a ghost before.Or that George himself looks like a ghost, if a ghost can also look shocked, warped, and stunned. "What?" he asked. "You, absolutely, won't, believe it." He was wearing a pair of vintage socks and a boxer's quilted robe.He seized Auberon's hand and led him down the hall toward the kitchen door. "What is it?" said Auberon again."Yonkers, AC" was written on the back of George's bathrobe. At the half-hidden door, Georges turned to Auberon. "For heaven's sake," he whispered urgently, "don't ever mention, uh, that story. The one I told you about—you know—" He glanced at the half-opened Glance at the door. "About Lilac," he said.Or maybe he didn't really say it, but silently but exaggeratedly drew the name with his lips, and then blinked in horror and warning.Then he pushed the door open. "Look," he said, "look at you." As if Auberon had a way of not looking. "my child." The child was sitting on the edge of the table, his bare legs crossed, and he was rocking back and forth. "Hello, Auberon," she said, "you've grown up." There was a cross-eyed feeling in Auberon's soul, but he kept looking at the child in front of him.He touched his heart, his imaginary Lilac was still there. So this is— "Lilac," he said. "My boy, Lilac," said George. "But how?..." "Don't ask me why," said George. "It's a long story," said Lilac, "the longest story I know." "They're going to have a meeting," said George. "A council," said Lilac, "I've come to tell you." "She came to tell us." "A council," said Auberon, "what the hell?" "Listen, buddy," said George, "don't ask me. I'm just down to make some coffee, and there's a knock at the door..." "But why is she so young?" asked Auberon. "Are you asking me? Anyway, when I looked outside, I saw this kid standing in the snow..." "She should be much older." "She fell asleep. Or something. I don't know. So I opened the door..." "It's unbelievable," Auberon said. Lilac kept watching them both, clasped hands in his lap, smiling with joyful love for his father and cunning complicity for Auberon.At this point the two stopped talking and just looked at her.George moved closer.There was a mixture of nervous and happy surprise on his face, as if Lilac had just hatched himself. "Goat's milk," he snapped his fingers. "How about a glass of goat's milk? Kids love milk, right?" "I can't." Lilac laughed at his gallantry. "I can't drink, not here." But George has already taken out a bottle of jam and a can of goat's milk from the refrigerator in a hurry. "Of course," he said, "goat's milk." "Lyrac," said Auberon, "where do you want us to go?" "It's the meeting place," said Lilac. "The Parliament." "But where? Why? How..." "Oh, Auberon," said Lilac anxiously, "they'll explain everything when you get there. You just have to come." "them?" Lilac's eyes widened in feigned shock. "Oh, come on," she said, "you just have to hurry, that's all, don't be late..." "Nobody's going anywhere now," George said, pushing the goat's milk into Lilac's hand.She picked it up curiously and looked at it, then put it down again. "It's great that you're back now. I don't know where you came from or how, but since you're back here safe and sound, let's stay." "Oh, but you have to come," Lyla tugged at the sleeve of his nightgown, "you have to come. Otherwise..." "Otherwise?" George asked. "Otherwise the ending will be wrong." Lilac said softly. "That story," she added, in a softer voice. "Aha," said George, "ah, that story. Ugh." Standing before her with his hands on his hips, he nodded suspiciously, not knowing how to answer. Auberon looked at the father and daughter and thought: So it's not over yet.As soon as he entered this old kitchen, he had this idea, or rather, it was not an idea but a realization, because the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and all kinds of strange feelings arose in him. It became cross-eyed, but the vision became clearer instead.It's not over yet: he's lived in a small room (a fold-away bedroom) for a long time, has explored its every nook and cranny, and knows it like the back of his hand.And he had decided: this would be all right, this would be all right, and he could live here too, with a fireside chair, a bed to sleep in, and a window to look at.Even if it is narrow, this simple feeling is enough to make up for it.Now it's as if he's put down the mirrored wardrobe, only to find that instead of a bed with patched sheets and an old quilt, it's a portal: there's a ship ready to set sail, and it's a windy dawn outside , and a boulevard that disappears at the edge of sight. He closed it with horror.He had already tasted adventure.He once stepped into the weird path, and he has sensibly withdrawn.He stood up and lumbered over to the window in his rubber boots.The unmilked goats were bleating in the pen. "No," he said, "I'm not going, Lilac." "But you haven't even heard the 'reason'," Lilac said. "I do not care." "War! Peace!" said Lilac. "I don't care." He insisted.Even if the whole world left him there (which probably happened), he wouldn't miss them.Or he might miss it, but he would rather miss it than grit his teeth and jump into the sea of ​​desire again. After all, he has escaped and climbed ashore.He should never go back. "Auberon," said Lilac softly, "Sylvie will be there, too." Never.Never, never, never. "Sylvie?" said George. "Sylvie," said Lilac. As the two of them didn't speak for a while, Lilac said, "She wants me to tell you..." "She didn't!" said Auberon, turning sharply at her. "She didn't, you're lying! No! I don't know why you're trying to frighten us, or why you're here, but you can say anything." Exit, right? Right? Say anything but tell the truth! Just like them, cause it's no different to you. No no no, you're just as bad as them, I know, As bad as that fake that George blew up. No different." "Oh, that's great," George rolled his eyes, "that's great." "Blown up?" Lilac looked at George. "It wasn't my fault," said George, giving Auberon a hard look. "So that's how it ended up," Lilac said thoughtfully.Then she laughed. "Oh, they're pissed! When those ashes came down. It's been there for hundreds of years, and it's the last of them." She stepped down from the table, her blue skirt lifted slightly. "I have to go," she said, and started toward the door. "No," said Auberon, "wait." "Go! No." George grabbed her arm. "There's still a lot to do," Lilac said. "It's all sorted out here, so... oh," she said, "there's one thing I forgot to mention. Most of the way you're supposed to go is through the woods, so you'd better get a guide. Someone who knows the woods and can Whoever leads you. Bring a penny for the ferryman. Dress warmly. There are many doors, but some close faster. Don't wait too long, or you'll miss the feast!" She had already walked to the door side, but ran back and jumped into George's arms.She wrapped her slender golden arms around his neck, kissed his bony cheek, and climbed down. "It's going to be fun," she said.She glanced back at them and smiled with pleasure and a hint of simple, sweet evil.Then she left.They heard her bare feet on the old linoleum outside, but they didn't hear the street door opening or closing. George took his overalls and coat from a sloping coat rack and put them on, then his boots.He walked towards the door, but he seemed to have forgotten what he was going to do when he came to the door, and he couldn't remember why he was in such a hurry.He looked around, but still couldn't figure it out, so he went back to the table and sat down. Auberon sat down slowly across from him.They sat like this for a long time in silence, sometimes startled suddenly, but saw nothing.与此同时，房内有某种光线或某种意义消退、回归平凡，变回一个可供煮粥、喝羊奶的普通厨房，两个单身汉穿着橡胶靴、坐在桌前面面相觑，家事都还没人动手。 还有一趟旅程等着他们：就剩这个了。 “好吧，”乔治说，“怎么了？”他抬起头，但奥伯龙根本没说话。 “不。”奥伯龙说。 “她说……”乔治开口，但却接不下去。他既忘不了她说了什么，却也想不起来（因为山羊狂叫不已、外面飘着雪花、他自己内心忽而空虚忽而盈满）。 “西尔维。”奥伯龙说。 “一个向导。”乔治弹了下手指。 走廊上传来脚步声。 “向导，”乔治说，“她说我们需要一个向导。” 他俩都往门边望去，门刚好打开。 弗雷德·萨维奇穿着他的橡胶靴走了进来，准备吃早餐。 “向导？”他说，“有谁要去哪里吗？” “是她吗？”索菲问，把窗帘拉得更开好看个清楚。 “一定是。”艾丽斯说。 这阵子已经很少有车子亮着头灯从石头门柱之间转进来了，所以应该不会是别人。那辆长长扁扁的轿车是暮色中的一抹黑影，颠簸着开上满是辙痕的车道，明亮的车灯扫过屋子。它在门廊前绕了个弯停下，熄了车灯，但不耐烦的引擎声又持续了好一会儿。接着就安静了。 “乔治？”索菲问，“奥伯龙？” “我没看到他们，只有她而已。” “噢！惨了。” “好吧，”艾丽斯说，“至少还有她。”她们从窗前转回来，面对着聚集在客厅里的一张张满怀期待的面孔。“她到了，”艾丽斯说，“我们很快就会开始了。” 爱丽尔·霍克斯奎尔熄掉引擎，在那儿坐了片刻，倾听这新生的寂静。接着她爬出车外。她从副驾驶座上拿过一个鳄鱼皮制的侧背包，站在飘落的绵绵细雨中深深吸了一口傍晚的空气，心想：春天。 这是她第二次驾车前往北方的艾基伍德。道路系统已经变得满是坑洞、残破不堪，还得在检查哨出示通行证和签证，这种事在五年前她初次来访时是谁都想不到的。她猜测自己应该受到了跟踪，至少是被跟了一段路，但离开公路、开上通往此地的那些错综复杂又下着雨的小路后，就不可能有人跟得上了。她是一个人来的。索菲的信很奇怪，但却非常急迫：她希望是真急迫到非寄不可的地步（霍克斯奎尔交代过他们千万别寄信到首都给她，因为她知道自己的邮件受到监视），希望在这关键时期要她向政府请一段长假远行，是真有必要。 “你好，索菲。”这对高挑的姊妹来到门廊上时，她这么说。门廊上没有任何欢迎的灯光。“你好，艾丽斯。” “你好，”艾丽斯说，“奥伯龙呢？乔治呢？我们请你……” 霍克斯奎尔爬上阶梯。“我去了那个地址，”她说，“敲了很久的门。那地方看起来好像废弃了……” “它一向都是那个样子。”索菲说。 “……但都没人回应。我好像听见门后有人，所以我叫了他们的名字。结果有个人，一个说话有口音的人，说他们走了。” “走了？”索菲说。 “离开了。我问他们去了哪里、要去多久，但就没有人回答了。我不敢在那里待太久。” “不敢？”艾丽斯说。 “我们可以进去吗？”霍克斯奎尔说，“这是个美丽的夜晚，但外头湿气很重。”她表亲不知道（而且霍克斯奎尔猜想她们可能连想都想不到）把自己跟她扯上关系是多么危险的一件事。有股深沉的欲望正朝这房子伸出触手，虽然还不知道它的存在，但已经循着气味愈靠愈近。只是现在没必要让她们受惊（至少她希望如此）。 大厅里除了一根黯淡的蜡烛之外没有任何灯光，让这地方看起来黑影幢幢，更显得偌大无比。霍克斯奎尔跟着两位表亲下楼、拐弯、上楼，穿过这不可思议的房屋内部，进入两个打通的大房间。房里燃着一团炉火、点着灯光，她一抵达，大家纷纷抬起头，脸上尽是感兴趣与期待的神情。 “这是我们的表亲，”黛莉·艾丽斯告诉他们，“算是失散已久吧，她叫爱丽尔。这些是我们的家人，”她对爱丽尔说，“你认识吧？还有另外一些人。 “好了，大家应该都到了，”她继续说，“能来的都来了。我去叫史墨基。” 索菲来到一张鼓形桌前，上面亮着一盏黄铜台灯，罩着绿色的玻璃灯罩。那副牌就摆在桌上。一看到它们，霍克斯奎尔就感觉内心一阵雀跃，但同时也一阵沉重。因为不论这副牌牵涉到哪些命运、不牵涉哪些命运，就在那一刻，霍克斯奎尔便知道了自己的命运铁定纠缠其中：甚至就是它们本身。 “你们好。”她对大家轻轻点了一下头。接着她在一把椅背垂直的椅子上坐下，一边是一位好老好老、老得惊人但眼神明亮的女士，另一边则是一对双胞胎，一男一女，同坐在一把扶手椅上。 “您是什么样的表亲呢？”玛吉·朱尼珀问她。 “据我所知，”霍克斯奎尔说，“我其实不算表亲。瓦奥莱特·德林克沃特的儿子奥伯龙的生父后来结了婚，那人正是我祖父。” “哦，”玛吉说，“是那边的家族呀。” 霍克斯奎尔感觉有人盯着她看，于是迅速瞟了扶手椅上的两个孩子一眼、对他们露出微笑。他们带着不甚笃定的好奇心盯着她瞧。霍克斯奎尔猜想他们应该很少见到陌生人，但其实巴德和布洛瑟姆带着惊奇和些许恐惧看见的，却是他们常唱的一首歌里在紧要关头现身的那位有点恐怖的谜样人物：带着鳄鱼皮包的女士。 艾丽斯迅速爬上楼，像盲人一样熟练地穿过黑黢黢的楼梯。 “史墨基？”来到通往观星仪的那道陡峭狭窄的楼梯底下时，她向上呼喊。没有人回答，但上面有光。 “史墨基？” 她不喜欢爬上去。那狭窄的楼梯、那小小的拱门以及那塞满机械、寒冷又拥挤的圆顶阁楼，总令她毛骨悚然。这东西铁定不是为了取悦一个体型像她这么庞大的人而设计的。 “大家都到了，”她说，“可以开始了。” 她双手抱胸等了一会儿。在这无人使用的楼层，湿气几乎摸得到，壁纸上到处都是褐色的污渍。史墨基说：“好啦。”但她却没听到脚步声。 “乔治和奥伯龙没来，”她说，“他们走了。”她又等了一会儿，接着（由于既没听到工作的声音也没听到准备下楼的声音）她就爬上了楼梯，把头从小小的门伸进去。 史墨基坐在一张小凳子上瞪着那黑色钢壳里的机械装置，就像一个坐在神像面前的请愿者或忏悔者。看见他、看见那裸露的机器，艾丽斯竟觉得有点害羞，仿佛自己刺探了某人的隐私。 “好啦。”史墨基又说了一次，但他站起来却是为了从盒子底部那排如槌球般大的钢球中拿一颗出来。他把它放在盒内一个旋转轮其中一根曲臂上的凹槽里。他松开手，球的重量就压得曲臂往下转。转动的同时，其他有关节的手臂也跟着转动，其中一根咔啦咔啦地伸出来，准备接收下一颗球。 “看懂它的运作方式了吗？”史墨基悲伤地说。 “不懂。”艾丽斯说。 “这是不平衡旋转轮。”史墨基说，“你看，因为有关节的缘故，这一侧的手臂都是伸直的。但一绕到这一侧，关节就会折叠起来，让手臂紧贴着转轮。所以手臂打直的那一侧永远比较重，会一直往下掉，也就是向下转的意思，所以你若把球放在凹槽里，转轮就会转过去，让下一根手臂伸出来。接着下一颗球就会掉进下一根手臂的凹槽里，再把它往下压，以此类推。” “哦。”他的描述方式非常平板，像叙述一个重复了太多次的古老故事或一门文法课。艾丽斯突然想起他还没吃晚餐。 “接着呢，”他继续道，“从这一侧落入凹槽的铁球重量会让这些手臂在另一侧升高、折叠起来，这时凹槽就会翻转，让球滚出去，”他用手转动轮子示范，“滚回架子上，再滚下来、掉进这一侧刚刚伸出来的手臂凹槽里，带动手臂转过去，就这样没完没了。”那根弯曲的手臂确实释放了铁球，铁球确实又滚到了下一根从转轮上咔啦咔啦伸出来的手臂上。那根手臂被铁球的重量压到了转轮底部，但接着它就静止不动了。 “真了不起。”艾丽斯平静地说。 史墨基背着双手阴郁地看着那一动不动的转轮。“这是我这辈子看过的最蠢的东西。”他说。 "Oh." “这位克劳德先生铁定是有史以来最蠢的发明家或天才……”但他想不出该如何作结，因此他低下头，“它从来没成功过，艾丽斯。这东西什么也转不动。没有用的。” 她小心翼翼地穿过那些工具和拆卸下来的油腻零件，拉住他的手臂。“史墨基，”她说，“大家都在楼下。爱丽尔·霍克斯奎尔到了。” 他看着她，接着笑出声来，是一阵受挫的笑声，因为他很荒谬地被彻底打败了。接着他龇牙咧嘴了一下，迅速按住自己的胸口。 “噢，”艾丽斯说，“你应该要吃晚餐的。” “我不吃反而好，”史墨基说，“好像是这样。” “走吧，”艾丽斯说，“我打赌你会搞懂这东西的。也许你可以问问爱丽尔。”她在他额头上轻吻了一下，然后赶在他前面走出拱门、走下楼梯，有种被释放的感觉。 “艾丽斯，”史墨基对她说，“就是现在了吗？我的意思是今晚。这就是了吗？” "What is it?" “就是了，没错吧？”他说。 他们穿过走廊、下了楼梯朝二楼走去时，她什么也没说。她抓着史墨基的手臂，觉得有不止一种回答方式，但最后（已经没必要再拐弯抹角了，毕竟她已经知道太多，而他也一样）她只说：“应该是吧，很接近了。” 史墨基按在胸口的手开始发麻，因此他叫了声“哎哟”，然后停下脚步。 他们站在楼梯顶端。他可以隐约看见下方客厅的灯光，听到人说话的声音。接着声音就化成一阵嗡嗡声，终至消失。 很接近了。如果已经很接近了，那他就输了，因为他已经落后太多。他连该怎么做都还没想出来，更遑论开工。He lost. 仿佛有个巨大的空洞在他胸口裂开，一个比他本身还要大的空洞。痛苦的感觉在外围聚集，而史墨基知道只要过了这漫长的一刻，那份痛楚就会涌进来填满这个空洞：但在那一刻过去之前，就只有一份可怕的预感和一份初生的启示而已，两者都很空洞，在他空洞的内心交战。预感是黑色的，而那份呼之欲出的启示则是白色的。他一动不动地站在原地，试着不要因为无法呼吸而恐慌，因为那个洞里没有空气，他只能体验预感与启示之间的战争、倾听耳朵里那阵悠长刺耳的嗡嗡声。那声音似乎在说，现在你明白了吧，虽然你没要求弄明白，况且你一定没料到会在这一刻、在这黑暗的楼梯上豁然开朗，但现在：接着那声音就消失了。他的心脏先是如遭重击般痛苦地跳了两下，接着就开始猛烈地稳稳跳动，仿佛愤怒无比。接着他就被熟悉而令人释然的痛楚给填满。再过一秒钟，他就能呼吸了。 “噢，”他听见艾丽斯的声音，“噢噢，这次很严重哪。”他看见她同情地抓着自己的胸口，感觉到她紧紧拉着他的左手臂。 “是啊，哇。”他终于能说话了，“噢，老天爷。” “过去了？” “差不多了。”被她拉着的那条左手臂一阵抽痛，一路痛到了无名指。他没戴戒指，却感觉仿佛有枚戒指被硬生生拔了下来。一枚戴了很久很久的戒指，除非把神经与肌腱整个截断，否则根本不可能脱掉。“别这样、别这样。”他说，结果那感觉就真的消失了，至少是慢慢减弱了。 “好了，”他说，“好了。” “噢，史墨基，”艾丽斯说，“你还好吧？” “过了。”他说。他开始下楼梯，朝客厅的灯光走去。艾丽斯抱着他、支撑着他，但他并不虚弱。他甚至没生病，菲什医生和德林克沃特医生的旧医学书籍一致同意：困扰他的不是一种疾病而是一种症状，并不影响长寿，甚至不影响其他方面的健康。 一种症状，必须与之共存。那么为何它感觉像是一种启示，一种欲语还休、之后就想不起来的启示？“没错，”老菲什曾说过，“一种死亡的预感，那是心绞痛的人常有的感觉，没什么好担心的。”但那是死亡的预感吗？当他终于得到那份启示时（假如有这么一天），内容会是死亡吗？ “很痛吧？”艾丽斯问道。 “这个嘛，”史墨基笑了，但也像是在喘气，“假如有得选择，我应该是宁愿它不要发生，没错。” “也许这是最后一次了。”艾丽斯说。她似乎把他的发作模式看成跟打喷嚏一样：打了最后一个大喷嚏之后就不会再打了。 “哦，我打赌不是，”史墨基温和地说，“我想我们应该不希望有所谓的最后一次。不要。” 他们相拥着走下楼梯，进入大伙儿等待的客厅。 “来了，”艾丽斯说，“史墨基来了。” “嗨、嗨。”他说。索菲在桌边抬起头，他的女儿们也停下手中打的毛线抬起头。他发现他的痛苦就反映在她们脸上。他的手指依然刺痛着，但还完好无缺。他那枚戴了很久的戒指还没被偷走。 一种病症：但却像是种启示。他第一次感到好奇：他们的症状也跟他的一样这么痛苦吗？ “好吧，”索菲说，“我们开始吧。”她环顾周围那一张张看着她的脸，有德林克沃特、巴纳柏、伯德、弗劳尔、石东、威德家的人，有她的表亲、邻居和远亲。桌上黄铜台灯的亮光让房里其余的空间显得幽暗朦胧，仿佛她是坐在一处营火旁看着周遭黑暗中的动物，而她必须用言语唤醒它们的意识与目的。 “好吧，”她说，“我有了个访客。”