Chapter 45 Preparations for a Village Wedding II
When Laban stepped down the escalator, the ladder was still trembling.The rain fell on his face, which had just emerged from the breath of the carriage, and he closed his eyes. ——The rain is splashing on the iron roof in front of the railway station building, but in the vast fields, the rain makes people feel as if they hear gusts of wind.A barefoot boy came running--Laban did not see where he came from--and out of breath begged Laban to let him carry the box, because it was raining, and Laban said: Yes, it will rain. It's raining, and he's going to take the bus anyway.He doesn't need to mention it.The boy grimaced, as if he thought walking in the rain with people carrying suitcases was more dignified than riding in a car, and he turned and ran.When Laban wanted to stop him, it was too late.
Two lights were on, and a railway clerk came out of a door.Without hesitation, he walked through the rain to the locomotive, and stood there quietly with his arms folded, waiting for the train driver to bend over the railing to talk to him.A handyman was called and sent away.Passengers stood by the windows, their eyesight dimmed and their eyelids chattering as if they were driving, as they saw an ordinary station building.A girl came from the road with a flowered parasol, hurried up to the platform, put the open umbrella on the ground and sat down, spreading her legs so that her dress might dry faster, Fingertips stroked the stretched skirt.Only two lights were on, and her face could not be seen clearly.The handyman who came over complained that there was a puddle of water under the umbrella. He drew a circle with his arm to indicate the size of the puddle, and then he gestured in the air with both hands like a fish sinking in deep water and said, Umbrellas also obstruct traffic.
The car moved, and like a long sliding door disappeared, and behind the poplar trees beyond the rails was the breathless black earth.Whether it is darkness or a forest, whether it is a pond or a house in which people sleep, whether it is a church tower or a ravine in the mountains, no one dares to go there, but who can stay here? ——
Laban saw the railway clerk again—he had reached the steps in front of his office—and ran up to him to block him: "Excuse me, is it far from the village? I'm going there."
"Not far, quarter of an hour, but by carriage—it's raining—you'll be there in five minutes. Please."
"It's raining. It's been a rough spring," Laban went on.
The railway clerk had his right hand on his hip, and from the triangle formed by his arm and his body, Laban saw that the girl had put away her umbrella and was sitting on a bench.
"It would be a pity to stay there now if I were going to get away from the summer heat by car. I thought someone would come to fetch me." Laban looked around to make his words more convincing.
"I'm afraid you'll miss the car. There's no waiting. You're welcome.—Take the road through the bushes."
The road in front of the station was unlit, except for a dim light from three windows on the first floor of the house, but not far.Laban tiptoed through the mud, shouting "Coachman!" "Hello!" "Carriage!" "Here I am!" several times.As he got to the dark side of the road, he sank into puddle after puddle and had to tread the ground with the whole of his foot until a horse's wet nose suddenly touched his forehead.
This was the car the man said, and Laban quickly walked into the empty compartment, sat behind the driver's seat by the window, bent his back to the corner, and did everything he had to do.For if the coachman falls asleep, he will wake up before daylight, and if he dies, a new coachman or shopkeeper will come, and if they don't come, then passengers will come with the morning train, and it's a bit of a hurry Noisy people.No matter what, you can calm down and close the curtain in front of the window by yourself, waiting for the sudden jerk when the car starts.
"Yes, after all I've done, I'm sure I'll be at Betty and Mama's to-morrow. Nobody can stop me. That's right, and I figured my letter wouldn't arrive until tomorrow, and I might as well be in town." Stay well, spend the night comfortably at Elway's, and not have to worry about the next day's work which usually puts me off. See, feet are wet."
He took out a candle stub from his waistcoat pocket, lit it, and placed it on the opposite chair.The candles were bright enough that the night outside made it seem like you could see the windowless, black-painted interior of the car.Of course, there is no need to immediately think that there are wheels under the feet and a horse tied in front.
Laban rubbed his feet carefully on the chair, put on clean socks, and sat up straight.Then he heard someone shouting from the train station, "Hey!"
"Yes, yes, this passenger is willing to leave now," Laban leaned out from the open car door, holding the door frame with his right hand, and agreed with his left hand over his mouth.
The rain poured down his collar and neck.
The coachman came running in two cut linen sacks, the reflection of his lantern gleaming in the puddle behind him.He explained sullenly: Listen, he and Rebera were playing cards, and they were having a good time when the train arrived.There was no way he could come out and look, but he didn't want to give a damn about someone who didn't understand it.Also, the place is filthy, I don't understand what a gentleman like that is here for, and the gentleman comes in after a while, and he has nothing to complain about.Just now Mr. Pilkershofer—excuse me, Mr. Assistant—came in and said that he thought a little man with blond hair was going to take the bus.He asked right away, maybe he didn't ask right away?
The lantern was hung on the front of the shaft, and the coachman gave the horse an order in a muffled voice, and the horse moved the cart, and the stirred water on the roof dripped slowly into the cart from a crack.
The road is likely to be uneven, and the mud will definitely splash on the spokes. The turning wheels fan the water in the puddles and fling them backwards. horse. —Is not all this a reproach to Laban?Many puddles were suddenly illuminated by the twinkling horse lanterns tied to the shaft, and divided into several places under the wheels to form water waves.All this happened only because Laban was going to find his fiancée, Betty, a beautiful girl who was not young.If anyone would bring up the subject, who would have appreciated Laban's contribution here, who deserved credit only for having endured the reproaches of others, but who would have denounced him openly.Of course he'd like to go to the country, Betty was his fiancée, he loved her, and it would be annoying if she thanked him for it, but better than nothing.
His head often involuntarily bumped against the wall of the car against which he was leaning, and then he looked up at the roof for a while.At one point his right hand slipped from the thigh it was resting on.But the elbow was still in the bend between the belly and the leg.
The car was in the middle of the rows of houses, and here and there the light of a house shone in from inside the car, and a staircase - Laban had to stand up to see the first steps of which - led to a church, a A lamp was burning at the gate of the park, with a great flame, but an icon showed its dark shadow only in the light of a small grocery store, and Laban saw it now. The wax dripping from the top hangs motionless.
When the carriage stopped in front of the inn, he could hear the rain falling heavily—perhaps because of an open window—and he could hear the voices of the guests in the inn. Laban asked himself whether he should get out of the carriage immediately, or Wait for the owner to come to the car.He doesn't know what the customs in this small town are, but Betty must have talked about her fiancé, whether his appearance is glamorous or inappropriate, this will affect the size of her reputation here, and it will also involve his own. reputation.And he didn't know what her reputation was now, nor what reputation she had spread about him, so things seemed even more awkward and difficult.
What a beautiful city and what a convenient way home!If it rained at home, you would take a tram home across the wet gravel road, but here you would take a buggy through a patch of mud to the inn. ——The city is far away from here, even if I am homesick to death now, it is impossible for someone to send me home today. —Well, I'm not going to die either—but in the house there, I'll be served tonight with what I want to eat, with newspapers on the back of the plate on the right, and lights on the left, and here, I'll be served a greasy meal--people here don't know, I have a bad stomach, if only they knew--and a newspaper I've never read, I've heard of Many people will be present, one light for all.What kind of lighting is that? It’s enough for playing cards, but can you read newspapers?
The owner didn't come, he didn't think about the guests at all, he seemed to be a very unfriendly person.Or he knows I'm Betty's fiancé, but is that why he doesn't come here?At the railway station, the coachman should have kept me waiting so long.Betty often said that she was always bullied by dirty men, how she refused their entanglement, maybe it is the same here...
As Edward Laban walked across the corridor and into the open door, he saw it was raining.
It didn't rain very much.
On the sidewalk, even though it was raining, there were many people walking in front of him, neither high nor low.Occasionally, a person stepped out of the crowd and crossed the roadway.
A little girl was holding a gray dog between her arms.Two men are exchanging information about a matter, sometimes their entire upper bodies approach each other, and then slowly separate; this situation reminds people of a door that opens and closes in the wind.One of them moved his palm up and down regularly, as if he was holding a heavy object in the air and wanted to weigh it.Then again a slender woman could be seen, her face twitching slightly, like the twinkling of stars in the sky, wearing a flat hat, decorated with something to the brim, piled up old Gao; unintentionally, she seemed so strange to all those who walked past her, as if a decree separated them.A young man hurried past on a thin cane, his left hand lay flat on his chest as if paralyzed.Lots of people go to work; though they walk fast, they are looked at longer than anyone else, they walk on the sidewalk and down the sidewalk, their coats don't fit well, their manners are plain, They were pushed and shoved, and they pushed other people as well.Three gentlemen - two of them with light coats draped over their bent lower arms - walked from the wall of the house to the edge of the pavement to look at the traffic and the opposite pavement.
Through the gaps between the passing crowd, you can first roughly, and then easily see the neatly laid bricks on the roadway. On the roadway, the car is shaking on the wheels, being pulled by a horse with a stretched neck. Go fast.The people sitting on the cushions in the car silently looked at the pedestrians, the shops, the balconies and the sky.The horses huddled together as one car passed the other, and the bit belts dangled back and forth.The animals tugged on the shafts, the wheels rolled, and staggered forward until they passed the cart in front, and the distance between the horses walking side by side was opened again, and only the slender horses' heads were still leaning together.
An elderly gentleman walked quickly towards the door, stopped on the dry parquet floor, and turned around.Then he looked at the rain falling chaotically into the narrow alley.
Laban bent his right leg slightly and put down the suitcase sewn with a layer of black cloth.The rainwater rushes along the side of the roadway, rushing towards the deeper sewer as if taut.
Laban leaned against the wooden doorframe, and the elderly gentleman stood not far from him, looking at Laban now and then, even though he had to twist his neck for it.But he did this only out of natural necessity, for he had nothing to do at the moment, at least to look carefully at everything around him.He just looked back and forth aimlessly, and as a result he didn't see many things.He did not notice, for example, that Laban's lips were as pale as the completely faded red of his tie, which had once had a decidedly Moorish pattern.If he had noticed it, he would have cried out from the bottom of his heart, but it was not right, for Laban had been very pale, although something had lately made him particularly tired.
"What kind of weather is this," whispered the gentleman, shaking his head, though consciously, with a senility.
"Yes, yes, especially when going out," said Laban, straightening up quickly.
"It's not going to get better," said the gentleman, leaning out to look beyond the alley, then up the alley, and then at the sky, to take a final look at the situation. It could last a few days, it could last a few weeks. As far as I can remember, June and early July haven't had much good weather in the forecast. Well, no one would be happy, like I'd have to give up walking, which is bad for my health very important.”
Then he yawned and looked tired, for he listened to Laban's voice and was so absorbed in talking that he was not interested in anything else, not even in the conversation itself.
This made a great impression on Laban, since it was the gentleman who greeted him first, so he tried to show off a little to himself, even if he didn't know it. "You're right," he said, "in the city you can give up things that are bad for your health. If you don't give up, you can only blame yourself for the bad consequences. People regret it, so they know what to do next time. How to do it. If every time..." [two pages are missing here]... "I don't mean anything by saying that. I don't mean anything," said Laban hastily, willing to pardon the gentleman's absent-mindedness, for he would Show off to yourself. "All this is said only from a book I have just mentioned, which, like the others, has been read every night lately. I have often been alone. These refer to former family situations. Among other things For me, after dinner, reading a good book is the happiest thing. It has always been like this. Not long ago, I read an excerpt from a writer in a promotional material: "A good book Books are best friends, 'It's true, it's true, a good book is a best friend."
"Yes, if you were young—" said the gentleman, who meant nothing in particular, but that it was raining, and it was raining hard, and it couldn't stop, but Laban listened to him. However, it seems that this gentleman thinks he is young and strong in his sixties, but on the other hand, he does not pay attention to the thirty-year-old Laban, and if allowed, he wants to say that he is thirty years old. Time is more sensible than Laban.He thought it was a waste of time to stand idly in the corridor watching the rain, as he, an elderly man, was doing, and it would be double the time wasted if you added gossiping to pass the time.
Laban now felt that what had been said about his abilities or opinions for some time had no effect on him. On the contrary, he had formally left the place where he had taken orders from before, so that people now spoke well of him or Bad things are just bullshit.So he said, "We're not saying the same thing, because you don't know what I'm going to say."
"Go ahead, go ahead," said the gentleman.
"Well, it's not a big deal," said Laban. "I mean, books are useful in every way, especially when people don't expect them to. If you're going to do If there is one thing to do, then it is the book whose content has nothing to do with what is being done, which is the most useful book. For the reader who is about to act has a fever (even if it is solely due to the effect of the book), and reading will stimulate him. Generates many thoughts about his actions. And since the content of the book is irrelevant, the reader's thoughts will not be hindered. I will say that his heart is like the Jew who once crossed the Red Sea. Thoughts run through your head in its entirety."
Laban hated the elderly gentleman in general.He felt that this person was very close to him,--but it was nothing... [two pages are missing here]... and the newspapers were the same. —I also want to say that I'm only going to the country for two weeks and I'm on vacation for the first time in a long time, and I need it badly even if I don't, but nonetheless, a book, The book I recently read, for example, guided me on this short trip more than you can imagine.
"I'm listening," said the gentleman.
Laban said nothing, he was standing with his hands thrust into the somewhat high pockets of his coat.
After a while, the elderly gentleman said: "It seems that this trip is very important to you."
"Look, look," said Laban, leaning against the door again.Only now did he see that the corridor was full of people.There were people standing even on the doorsteps, and a public official who rented a house from the same landlady as Laban had to ask people to make way for him when he went down the steps.Laban was pointing at the rain, and the man shouted "Bon voyage" to Laban through the heads of several people who turned towards Laban, repeating an apparently earlier promise that next Sunday would be to visit Laban.
[two pages missing here] ... There was a comfortable position, which he himself was satisfied with, and which had been waiting for him.He has stamina and a jovial heart, so that in his recreation he needs no one, but everyone needs him.His body is always so healthy.Hey, stop talking.
"I don't argue," said the gentleman.
"You don't argue, but you don't admit your mistakes either, why do you insist on them like that. You remember it so well now, I bet you'd forget all about it if you talked to him. You'd Reprove me that I can't contradict you better now. If he only talked about a book. He'll be so happy at once with all the good things." …