Chapter 5 5

His mother had repeatedly promised Dirk that Charlotte's heir would be Dirk, not his married sisters.He should of course live there and have children there.Since it was going to be that way one day - according to Mrs. Burnaby's perfect logic - why not now?Why not get married and settle down like those of your peers?Claudine still lived there, Charlotte had "her own" place, and of course a place big enough for the Dirks; there was a river near the estate, a boatyard, a high-speed yacht that was no longer in use, and There was the sailing boat that Dirk loved as a kid, and she imagined how much Dirk's kids would love it, and Dad would take them out on the river and teach them to row...

"But I'm not married yet, Mother, not even engaged," said Dirk impatiently. "You forgot." Claudine said coldly, "No, Dirk. I never forgot." Claudine began to treat his son indiscreetly, always lecturing and reproaching.No one talked to Dirk like she did; and he had to suffer in silence and still love her. She was a big, beautiful, weird spider, entrenched in her web in Charlotte's room, and she was waiting. A long time ago, maybe 1970, Claudine Burnaby first stepped into Buffalo society.At that time, she had a plump body, a slender waist, a good hourglass figure that is the most popular nowadays, natural golden hair, a cute face like a child, and full red lips.She later married Virgil Burnaby, a Niagara Falls entrepreneur who was the adopted son of a wealthy Niagara Falls local.Like many beautiful women of rich families, she was always forgiven for her mistakes and accommodated for her flaws in character.It was when the astonishing beauty was gone—for which she had spent a year or two in despair—that she began to try to "learn."Maybe it was too late, maybe she was tired of "mercy".Of course, she was tired of religion.If it wasn't for showing off and feeling the envy of everyone, it was unnecessary for Claudine Burnaby to attend the religious service on Saturday.She was a relatively young widow with a large circle of male friends, escorts, lovers (?), but not for very long.When she was just over 50 years old, she was confused by her appearance all day long, and the years had ruthlessly left marks on her fair and delicate skin.For several years, she has always wanted to have plastic surgery. Because she was worried about her, her family was exhausted. What if there was a mistake in the operation? ——What if you don’t become more beautiful after plastic surgery?This does not affect the children's affirmation of her in the slightest: she is beautiful, despite the fact that she is a beautiful middle-aged woman.But Claudine did not listen to the advice of others. "I hate this. I hate myself. I hate looking in the mirror".Because Claudine clearly remembered how beautiful he was in the mirror, but now he is not what he used to be.

She's really sad, Dirk thought, Mom was such a gregarious woman, and now she's a recluse.If invited to hang out with old friends, she often left early without explanation or goodbye.At the exclusive private club in Buffalo's Big Island in the Niagara Falls area, where she and her late husband used to be guests, she complains that no one is paying attention: "People are looking this way, but not at me." .No one saw me at all." Complaining like a child, but it comes from an old woman. Dirk's older sisters, Clarice and Sylvia, disagreed. She was important to them and to the children.Hearing these words, Claudine looked indifferent and impatient, so you will know: it is very important to these people, but it is meaningless to her.

As a result, Clarice and Sylvia became even more dissatisfied and kept complaining to Dirk.They said that when they were young, their mother did not fulfill their duties as a mother at all, and everything was done by the nanny, although Claudine liked his son Dirk very much, strong and handsome, with a gentle temperament and a docile temper."Mom just wants attention from men. To her, it's all about sex," the sisters said in disgust. Dirk thought to himself, no, to Claudine, sex is nothing at all, or it used to be, but vanity is the most important thing. He always felt guilty that his mother was obviously partial to him, often gave him money, bought him private gifts, and took him for granted as a child, even after he was an adult in his 20s and expressed his desire to be independent. in this way.

When she was nearly 60 years old, she suffered from depression for a while, and finally Claudine decided to have plastic surgery. The operation was performed in a Buffalo hospital.After the operation, her sensitive skin was bruised for several weeks, her eyes were bloodshot, and the left half of her face was immobile and expressionless.Now she doesn't dare to smile, and she can't show any expression on her face, because she only has half of her face to express these things. "Revenant! I am a revenant now, a complete revenant," she said bitterly, but still with a look of satisfaction. "Deserved it. Virgil would laugh at me. 'You want to remarry?'—'You think there's ever going to be another man in love with you?' I did it to myself, an old woman trying to look young."

Dirk knew that after surgery, he couldn't change it.The nerves have been destroyed, Claudine's face and the nerve tissue behind the ears were permanently damaged. Before the operation, she signed an agreement that she would not hold the hospital responsible for any medical malpractice. Next, various diseases plagued her, bronchitis, anemia, fatigue.Terrible fatigue!Even though Claudine doesn't do any exercise, she's so exhausted that she sometimes doesn't even have the strength to get dressed.She often sleeps for 12 hours at a time.After weeks of persistence, Claudine finally convinces Dirk to take someone home to visit her, but when Dirk brings an attractive young woman (whom he thinks) he might marry to see her, Claudine asked Ethel to bring the message downstairs, "Mrs. Burnaby is not feeling well today, and she apologizes to you."

Now Claudine rarely leaves Charlotte, and rarely invites people to the house, including relatives.The loud grandchildren disturbed her, and the quarrelsome daughters bored her.It seemed to Dirk that she took for a spiritual treasure the pain she had bred; I think people are right to praise her."I'm jealous of ordinary-looking women," she says indignantly. "Beautiful" women are just that - 'beautiful' - nothing special, they don't know what they lack, but I do." One day in late June, Dirk drove to the island, where he was spending the weekend in Charlotte.The ordeal at Great Falls had worn him down, his insomnia had haunted him, he had frequent unwarranted rages, and he felt like a fire in his city home in Luna Park.It's so close to the Niagara Canyon, you can hear the roar of the waterfall mixed with the roar of your own blood, even in summer, you can feel the spray blown by the wind.Filled with apprehension, Dirk fled back to Charlotte, where his mother was waiting for him, the gentle black spider shivering in its web.

Claudine greeted Dirk through the half-hidden bedroom door. Because today is not a "good" day for her.She forbade her son to see him, let alone kiss her, even though she was glad he was there.When his son went to visit her in the bedroom, Claudine only allowed Dirk to sit with his back to her, lying on the recliner himself with a wet towel wrapped around his head to avoid migraines, much to Dirk's dismay.Her voice was a little trembling, with a reproachful tone: "Honey, you can still talk without looking at me. We don't have to face each other all the time." Dirk couldn't help laughing at the thought of her face, but was it that funny?

In the evening, Claudine felt better, and they had dinner downstairs. The candlelight flickered in the room, the light was dim, and the atmosphere was romantic.Even at this moment, Claudine did not allow Dirk to look closely at her face. Except for Ethel.She was the housekeeper of the family and had served Mrs Burnaby for over 30 years, and it was clear that Claudine no longer confronted anyone but her. Dirk hated it all, how could his mother, who was so attractive and reasonable, have turned into a monster?She is only 63 years old! Claudine always caught him asking questions, and this time was no exception.Dirk poured red wine, and the mother and son drank a lot.When the wine glass was empty, Claudine always made a fuss, and the jokes between the two were nothing more than that.

Dirk alludes to the "wrenching experience" of Great Falls: a young man who jumped off the Horseshoe Falls and found his body seven days later, participated in the search without pay, was involved...in a way went in. When Claudine spoke, her voice was a little trembling, and there was reproach in her tone: "Aren't you always like this, my dear, you always get involved with strangers. It's terrible to take risks." She is from Niagara University A native of the Falls, she is indifferent to the Great Falls, and she despises the sightseers who flock there from "all over the world"; perhaps she's never been there herself. ("Of course, I've seen postcards; if you like that kind of thing, it really stands out.") Like all the locals, Claudine knows what suicide means, but she always associates it with emotional Frustration, business failure, or extreme madness; that's none of her business.Even if she knew that her father-in-law, Reginald Burnaby, was a legend of valor and that he had fallen into the Grand Canyon in 1872, she never mentioned him, even in jest.

Dirk's father, Virgil Burnaby, was brought up in exceptional circumstances.His mother and son were sent to the home of a local banker in Niagara Falls, a philanthropist and an official of the Christian Charity Union named McKenna. It was not surprising that Claudine hadn't shown much interest in Dirk's recent encounters.Dirk knew that her sisters had cut out those things from newspapers and magazines and showed her, and they must have recognized Dirk, but Claudine must have thrown them away without even looking at them, "'Great Falls The Widow's Bride'—such a vulgar title, look no further." After a while, Dirk wanted to bring up the subject of the Great Falls, but Claudine said impatiently: "So what if there are more suicides than one less? Don't let those nasty things ruin our good dinner like a dead cat." Just as disgusting, please, Dirk." Dirk smiled.Claudine never asks for help. Later, Claudine talked about Dirk's marriage and letting him and his family live in Charlotte, which was a heavy topic they often talked about.Dirk casually remarked that a woman he had met at Great Falls last week was a "priest's daughter, a Trojan. Not very religious, actually a music teacher." Claudine, sipping Scotch, didn't seem to hear. , and drank some water. However, when going to bed at night, Claudine said coldly: "There is no one we know in Troy, Dirk. None." During his days in Charlotte, Dirk drank a lot, even though he didn't want to.He always took a bottle of Scotch back to his room, and Claudine allowed him to.You only live once, this is her philosophy of life.When she said this, her jaw twitched terribly, and she couldn't hide her joy.Before Claudine could cover it, Dirk caught a glimpse of her face. Part of the face is stiff, but Claudine won't let you know where. Dirk was drawn to Charlotte's beautiful surroundings, not the ostentatious house on the estate (he didn't like the house at all: he didn't want to be European, he liked modern things, a Frank Lloyd Wright American), but loves the courtyard, the beautiful landscaping all around, and the river, the river of my childhood.The Niagara diverges at Big Island and another at Great Falls a few miles downstream, though Goat Island is much smaller.It is said that due to Buffalo's vigorous industrial development, the Niagara River has become very polluted, while the Chippewa River on the west side of the Big Island is not very polluted; In an industrial area, the river isn't in as bad a shape as the Niagara either.You don't think about pollution if you don't see it yourself, smell that smell, or taste the water in the river.Dirk had too many friends who were factory owners or investors, and many of his clients were of this class, and he had learned to sidestep the problem.Staring at the river, looking at the sailboats and yachts on the river, you will think of beauty, and you will sigh the perfection of those man-made things, bathed in the fading sunlight of summer, it is simply ingenious.You don't think of the polluted river, but the terrible waterfall downstream.Here, the Niagara River is like any other wide, rolling river.On clear days, you can see the deep blue sky in the river; usually, the river is always leaden gray, sparkling, wriggling like a giant.The river flowed slowly and calmly for miles.At the point where the Goat Island forks, the current gets rough; there, two miles from the Great Falls, is called the Dead Zone. Once a ship sails into the dead zone, the fate of its owner is ruin. Once a man swims to the death zone, his fate is destruction. dead zone.Dirk took a sip of his scotch, wondering what the hell that meant. During the few days when he lived in Charlotte, Dirk always recalled the old days unnaturally. Except for the days when the US military was stationed overseas, he was almost always in Charlotte in his 20s, with his mother. It made him ashamed to live together.It's not that they stayed with her for too long, in fact, they didn't spend much time together.But his mother always secretly gave him money, and if his father knew about it, he would not agree to it.Claudine was generous and a little emotional. She insisted on repaying the $12,000 loan for Deke, which he borrowed when he went to Cornell University Law School; and later living expenses, gambling debts... For several years Dirk gambled heavily, racing horses at Old Castle Erie.He knew he was addicted, not to win, just to gamble.Fortunately, Dirk is a master of cards and rarely loses.In no time, he was a well-known single socialite, with a house in the Luna Park luxury complex, valuable cars, a newly purchased sailing boat, and a 40-foot yacht.He frequented the private clubs of his parents and friends, where he entertained.There were many young women in the social circles of the upper class, whose mothers always approached him enthusiastically, and whose fathers often invited him to play ball, golf, softball, racquetball, or tennis.card.Dirk was a card prodigy with a childlike smile and clear eyes that made him look like no serious competitor, and it seemed every time he won it was by chance.Everyone knew him as a lucky young man who lived a fascinating life. (Few people know that he lost so much money at Castle Erie. By 1949, he had restricted himself to small stakes games.) Finally, Dirk Burnaby started making money for himself , he became a lawyer, but he was always making ends meet, and Claudine seemed to support him in this way-in fact, she was definitely not supporting him in this way. "You only have one life. You're lucky you didn't die in Italy. You look taller and more manly than Ellen Randy. Everyone should love you." Dirk secretly took the money his mother gave him , to a certain extent, because it will make her happy, and there is nothing that can make her happy anymore.However, he always felt guilty and was always afraid that his father and sisters would eventually find out. (Dirk guessed that Clarice and Sylvia knew by now, they were as vigilant as vultures, and no secret could be kept from them.) Even though Dad had been dead for more than ten years, Dirk still felt that he It seems that knowing that, he will hate his son very much.Dirk felt disgusted and hated himself and Claudine for being complicit.You only live once, what the hell does that mean? Dirk didn't take Claudine's money anymore, but he didn't give her back what she had used. Dirk had tried to give it back to her, and Claudine was so heartbroken that he raged like a abandoned woman, looking like he was about to throw a tantrum. "I might be getting married, Mom. Or, I'm trying to." It was Sunday brunch time, and today's brunch was later than usual, with scrambled eggs, smoked salmon, and a bloody mary.Mother and son sat on a flagstone platform by the river, Claudine wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat with a beautiful lace openwork veil so that his son could not see her disfigured face. There was a silence.Claudine leaned forward and didn't seem to hear what Dirk said. "Dirk, what are you talking about?" "Possibly. I might." Think she doesn't want you to marry.How could she want you to marry? He felt nauseous.He took a swig of vodka that looked like heated spiced tomato juice. Claudine chuckled, "Who are you going to marry?" "I do not know yet." "You are not serious." Claudine said cautiously, with a very disappointed expression. "Maybe not." "Is that Elsie?" "no." "Gwen?" "no." "Oh, by the way, that little blond--'June Ellison'--" "Harriet Chubb." "Is it her?" Claudine's face showed a faint joy. Harriet Chubb was a celebrity in Buffalo society, but that was all in the past. "No, Mom, not Harriet Chubb." Claudine sighed, took a sip of the Bloody Mary slowly, thoughtfully, and gracefully pulled the veil. "Hopefully it's not the 'Elmwood Casino' showgirl." Dirk said nothing, but was a little unhappy. Claudine sighed pretending to be relaxed, "Uh, my dear, you are a bit slutty by nature, and you also like slutty, wild women." Dirk shrugged. He didn't feel loose or wild right now. He felt very uncomfortable. It should be said that he had felt this way the night before. His eyes hurt from prolonged insomnia, and he wore black glasses to block the glare of the river.Claudine deliberately pretended to be indifferent, and asked, "Are charming women more sexy? In reality?" "Anything but 'practical,' Mom?" Dirk smiled awkwardly. "Sexual attraction can only be superficial, a game, just for fun. But in real life, it should be—" Claudine paused, seeming a little embarrassed.Dirk saw her run her fingers over the scar behind her right ear. "--nothing." Several towering sailboats passed by on the river, and one was almost blown over by the wind.Dirk stared at the ship, hoping it wouldn't be another disaster. Ethel brought Dirk and Claudine something more from the kitchen, hot brioche rolls, iced tea in a tall glass, freshly quartered citrus, and some whipped cream .Claudine was still veiled, but that didn't stop her from eating and drinking to her heart's content, as if she found solace in food.Mother and child, mother and food, mother prepares food for child.Claudine did not like to do the things that mothers should do, but was happy to accept the courtesy and respect of children. Dirk recalled a similar scene as a child.That was a long time ago.Maybe not too long.It was a summer Sunday, and Claudine was in charge of preparing a brunch, but the table was too small and there were not enough places for Dirk's father, Dirk's sister, relatives, and other guests.In the afternoon, they went boating on the river, passed Castle Erie and Buffalo, passed under the Peace Bridge, and sailed into the empty Lake Erie, a big lake, like an inland sea.A blond friend teased Claudine about what she was wearing: a printed pink two-piece swimsuit over a loose, semi-sheer summer dress, half uncovered.Our Betty Glebe, they teased her.So she went back upstairs to change, and she called Dirk over, and he was maybe 13, or maybe 16, maybe 18, coming home from school for a while.Mom forbade Dirk to look directly at her while she was changing.Claudine, speaking as loud and clear as she had on the phone, began to interrogate Dirk—where was the whole morning?with whom?Where will you go?What time are you coming back tonight? ——A series of questions like a cannonball, but irrelevant.This communication made Dirk want to be angry, anxious, feel the desire in his body being aroused, and feel disgusted. He wanted to escape from there as soon as possible, escape from his mother's dimly lit and perfumed bedroom. He had had many girlfriends, some of whom were "older" - a few years older than he was.During those nights, they gave him great sexual satisfaction.He was too young then to understand.Now that he is an adult, he feels a strong impulse in his body, followed by annoyance and impatience, and he thinks he understands. She wished Dirk was still a child, an immature, fresh-blooded boy.He was a philandering con man, a conqueror of libido.He has strong desires, and he has always been indifferent to the objects of his desires. These are the places where he can conquer women.He is a mature man with strong natural ability, but sometimes he is like a eunuch, his mother's puppet eunuch. "No, I have to go." She begged Dirk to stay a little longer, one more night, and leave tomorrow, as she begged Dirk every time he was going to go, even if it was a time that had been agreed in advance.It was a comically familiar conversation, and because it was so familiar and Dirk knew it was going to be, he didn't find it in the least awkward. Dirk said he had work to do and hadn't been in the office for days because of what happened at Great Falls. Claudine wrinkled his nose displeased.She knew someone had committed suicide, but she didn't ask too much, and she didn't ask her son if he was one of the people who found the body, or if he touched the body. Like she wouldn't ask - which city? — as was the case in that little town upstate, where there were no Burnaby acquaintances. Claudine walked Dirk to his car in the driveway.She also wore the straw hat with the veil, which was very pretty, decorated with velvet ribbons and some fake flowers; and she wore a blue printed sundress over her softened body , appearing loose.After the good-byes, Dirk was overwhelmed by a surge of sympathy and annoyance that Claudine still hid behind that ridiculous veil.She was a wounded recluse, maybe she was bound inside and couldn't get out.The mistress of Charlotte Hall was waiting for someone to free him, for someone who loved him to free her from the spell, or, at least, tear off the veil. Impulsively, Dex reached out and pulled. "Come on, Mom. You're not ugly at all." But Claudine cried out, surprised and angry, and held Dirk back.She stepped aside and Dirk followed, she gripped the hat tightly with both hands, and Dirk tapped it, and the hat went on one side, and he smiled.Are you playing games? ——Yes, it’s a game.Dirk deftly took off her hat—and her veil—and a pale, dazed woman stared at him, with bloodshot eyes and faded blond hair standing neatly behind her head, her face There were no wrinkles on his face, his face was sallow, his face was stiff and horrible, and his mouth was painted with very bright red lipstick.She was so angry that Claudine slapped Deke, who just smiled, and she scratched Deke's left cheek with her fingernails. "Damn it! How dare you do that! Go away! I hate you!" Dirk laughed and drove away from Charlotte, his body shaking. He was baffled by the look on his mother's face: pain, panic, anger.And he was taken aback when he saw the face: unexpectedly young. 2 Eighteen days after the Great Falls vigil ended, Dirk Burnaby drove across the vast, glacier-carved New York state to Troy. He didn't know what he was going to do.He's emotional, high-spirited, but a little morbidly fatalistic.It will be what the future will be.You only live once.He is a promising litigator obsessed with legal strategy, and just this morning, he suddenly found his fate hanging in the air, so he desperately wanted to get the address of the Littrell home, which was from the manager of the Rainbow Hotel. got it there.There was a phone number in it too, though he didn't call the redheaded woman who was standing in front of her and ignoring him.Maybe just to let her take a look at herself, for the first and last time. It's a long way, about 300 miles.Because he forgot to buy them, he wore a new suit from the closet: a navy blue sports jacket with brass buckles like those found on navy suits, a striped sports shirt, white corduroy trousers, a hoodie. He wore a white yachting cap, a fiber tie with a rectangular brass tie buckle around his neck, and a pair of navy blue espadrilles on his feet. Dirk Burnaby, a well-dressed gentleman. As he drove along the Mohawk River, he was forced to stop several times to pee on the side of the road and find places to stand out of sight on the road next to Woburn, Kaynas The villages of Tota and Ford Hunter. (So ​​nervous! He's always in a rush to pee!) Even when he wasn't sleeping, the insomnia danced back and forth like a vicious blue flame. "Damn it! Enough is enough. No more." When passing through Amsterdam, a field of daisies swaying in the wind outside the village caught his attention.All these flowers have eyes.He smiled, his life seemed too simple.Walking through the knee-high grass, he picked a few flowers among the clumps, which he wanted to give to the red-haired girl, so that she could take a look at him.He plucked a tough wildflower (chicory? Little blue petals?), ripped off the stem and vine, the thorns scratching his hand.Lots of white and pale pink wild roses.But his hands are still bleeding!He picked some more daisies, and a cluster of buttercups, which must have been buttercups with their little golden flowers.In a small ditch, he found a pale anemone-like thing, which reminded him of the complex expression of a red-haired girl, so he uprooted them.There was a quart-sized glass bottle in the trunk of the car, and he took it to the ditch, filled it with water, and stuffed it with the flowers he picked.A large bouquet of flowers that don't look very pretty, maybe a hundred of them.His heart was beating violently, and he still held a slightly absurd hope in his heart. Walking to Albany, he stopped for a drink.He bought a bottle of champagne in a hotel and said to a smiling salesperson, "Wait. Take two bottles of that." "Two bottles of parignone in a round cap? Yes, sir." In a little while he was crossing the bridge over the Hudson and driving into Troy, a hilly city.He was told there that the vicar and Mrs. Littlerell and her daughter had moved out of the rectory near the First Presbyterian Church of Troy and were no longer living there.It was Mrs. Littlerell who opened the door, and she stared, breathlessly, in astonishment at Dirk Burnaby, whom she recognized.The daughter rented a house near the Troy Academy of Music and lived there alone. That's a good sign, thought Dirk, isn't it? Dirk walked across town to find his way to the dilapidated neo-gothic conservatory and a block to the red brick house where Alia lived.On the gravel path in front of the house, he stopped.He heard a woman singing.The voice seemed to be floating down from the sky, and he looked up and saw a window on the second floor was open.He stood there, clutching the glass bottle filled with flowers tightly in both hands, listening to the singing raptly.A pure, clear, sweet soprano singing surprisingly passionate battle songs: the glory i witnessed It is the dawn of God's coming! the wine he trampled on Exactly where the grapes of wrath are stored He unleashes the lightning of prophecy— That sounds so much like Aaliyah's voice!Impulsively, Dirk cleared his throat. Although he had not received professional training, his anger still came from his dantian: "——use his terrifying and sharp sword!" He was sure his voice wasn't loud enough for Alia to hear, but her singing stopped abruptly, no glory, no hallelujah glory, just a sudden silence. Dirk stood on the porch and rang the bell.Dirk pretended not to see a woman staring at him from an upstairs window. She will open the door, maybe not.In this way, my fate was decided. At this moment, Dirk Burnaby felt extremely peaceful in his heart.That's fine, that's right.He puts his destiny in the hands of a woman, about whom he knows next to nothing. When Alia opened the door and saw him, she was shocked, so unexpected. The two of them stared at each other and stood there in a daze, unable to speak for a while. Her first impression on Dirk was: Alia in front of her was nothing like the widowed bride. Her faded red hair seemed to be blown by the wind, messy, but there was a kind of beauty in the mess, strands of curls Her hair, fluffed up and reminiscent of soft feathers, framed her thin face.In the dazzling sunlight, her hair was fringed with silver, like lightning drawn in the sky.The red-haired girl has become much calmer! This is no longer the grieving woman.She wore a summer light-colored sarong with a bright green parrot pattern with a yellow beak on it; a white T-shirt that looked like it had just been washed, the T-shirt was simple and sporty, like a teenager clothes worn by a child; she had no socks on her legs and was barefoot.There was no longer pain or remorse in her calm, freckled face; she was rosy, flushed to the neck in a moment of doubt: her eyes were no longer bloodshot, beautiful pink The eyelashes, the eyes were still that pure glass green, like the river water, and it was these eyes that often appeared in Dirk's mind.Her eyes widened instantly, recognizing him. Dirk heard himself stammering, "Mrs. Erskine—?" "No, not again." Although she looked a little nervous, she spoke calmly, fingers twisting the hem of the skirt, and her short nails looked like blades. "I still call myself 'Alia Littrair,' I don't really become another person." When speaking of the other person, she seemed a little confused, breaking up the words as if they were an incomprehensible foreign phrase. Dirk Burnaby, an eloquent and well-spoken litigator, stood there like a cornered bull in the yard, swallowing hard and parched.God, what happened to him!He found water spilled on his smart navy jacket. "You--remember me? Dirk Bur--Burnaby. I'm the--I mean, I'm--" Alya smiled. "Of course I remember you." "You—remember? I—I didn't expect this—" How stupid, why mention it?Alia Little seemed to see his embarrassment and let him in. Then Dirk, more embarrassed, handed the heavy, still dripping bouquet to Alia, apologetically as in a movie called "Bob Hope." "I hope you don't mind," he muttered softly. "Oh, thanks." Some of the flowers were hanging out of the bottle, the daisy stem was broken, and the pale pink wild rose was riddled with thorns, roots and dirt.Wildflowers and weeds are mixed together, and there are small bugs crawling around on the chicory branches.Alia said softly, "It's beautiful!" They were standing in a small living room.Against the wall stood an upright Steinway piano, on which were piled up works by Mozart, Chopin, Beethoven, Irving Berlin and others.There was a tangle of worn carpet underfoot, and Dirk's espadrilles got tangled somehow.那条浅绿色的带鹦鹉图案的裙子显得很活泼，不停地在阿莉亚白皙纤细的腿上扫来扫去，看到这些，德克的大脑一片空白。只听到空洞的男人的声音：“我到奥尔巴尼办事，想到——顺便来拜访你。阿莉亚。我应该事先打个电话的，可是——我不知道电话号码。”他停了下来。他感到心跳产生的强烈的脉冲涌向头部，似乎在诡秘地嘲笑他。 “我刚才听到你唱歌了。在外面的小路上。” 我是说我走到外面的小路上的时候，听到你在唱歌。我说的是什么啊？ 阿莉亚在嘟囔什么，德克没听到，他转身走进隔壁房间，那是一个旧式的小厨房，里面有一个丑陋的深水池，水龙头上锈迹斑斑。德克摸索着跟了进去。水池边，阿莉亚转过身，吃惊地看着德克，距离那么近。这时他意识到阿莉亚是不希望他跟进来的，但是已经太晚了。如果退出去，那样子一定比现在更傻。而他接下来做的事情使他看上去比退出去还要傻：他站在那里偷偷摸摸地刮衣服上的污点。Oh my god!像是手指刮破时滴上去的血。 阿莉亚把花放进水池，颤巍巍地踮起脚尖，去拿水池上方架子上的花瓶。德克直盯盯地看着她的脚，那双脚那么白皙，那么瘦小。他突然有个很不理智的想法：他想弯下身去，抱住那双脚，用双手紧紧攥住那双脚，然后把阿莉亚提起来（当然，健壮的他有足够的力气），就像在一部电影里一个闪光的幻想中的舞蹈场景中，弗瑞德?阿斯泰尔抓住金杰?罗杰斯的脚那样，那部电影还没有拍出来：或许已经拍出来了，德克记清楚了吗？透过稀薄的棉T恤衫，他看到她的椎骨像握紧的关节一样拉紧着，德克顿时感到一阵眩晕，他看到了这么隐私的一幕。“哎，我来吧。”他拿下花瓶递给她。那是利特莱尔太太的花瓶，他似乎见过，是结婚礼物。他看见花瓶从他潮湿的手中掉到地板上，摔成了碎片；事实上，不管怎样，那一幕没有发生，花瓶完好地放在水池里。阿莉亚可以安全地从德克颤抖的手中接过任何他想要给她的东西。他说：“你的声音很动听。阿莉亚。我一下就听出来了。” What's the meaning?是说德克能辨别出动听的声音吗？不一定；是说他很快就听出那是阿莉亚的声音吗？也有疑问。 阿莉亚尴尬地笑了笑。“噢，你不必这样说的，波纳比先生。” “请叫我德克。” “'德克'。” 多么奇怪、多么刺耳的名字！德克从来没有听这么清楚过。当然了，这是妈妈取的名字，他似乎知道“德克”是个姓，是妈妈的姓，不是爸爸的。 阿莉亚说：“我的声音并不动听，它——” “在纽约州北部，这样的声音很好听。确实如此。” 他不想大声嚷嚷，吓唬她，他空洞的声音回荡在这间狭小的厨房里，像一台音量开得太大的破旧塑料收音机。 “——它几乎算不上是嗓音了。”阿莉亚说话的时候有点沮丧，不过说的都是事实。 她是音乐专家，她懂这些东西的。 阿莉亚在摆弄水池里的那些花，许多花枝都断了，怎么会这样？德克为什么不在奥尔巴尼给她买一束花呢？还没人给我买过花呢。阿莉亚用削皮刀把雏菊带有泥土的枝都剪掉了。菊苣的茎太强韧了，不知道德克是怎样用手从地里拔出来的。一支野花掉到了地上，二人不约而同地伸手去拣。德克惊喜地发现：阿莉亚瘦弱、有斑点的手上没有任何装饰物，她没戴戒指。 他忘记了派力格农还在车上。 “抱歉，阿莉亚，我——我去去就回。” 在回车上的路上，德克想，阿莉亚会不会以为他真的就这样走了呢：他没有说自己要去干什么；也许阿莉亚真的希望他就这样出人意料地离开呢，就像他出人意料地出现在他面前一样？是不是真的应该离开呢？已经把花送给她了，这就够了。下午的一切都发生得太快了，像是在坐过山车一样，德克有点眩晕的感觉，这一切使他觉得有点不可思议。他最讨厌的就是那种缓缓变慢，降下来的感觉。 他一把抓起那个纸袋，里面是那两瓶香槟。坦白讲，他快要渴死了。 他回到厨房的时候，阿莉亚已经把花都插在那个透明的花瓶里了。花枝已经被她修剪过，那些断掉的都捡出来放在了一边。一支野玫瑰上，一只身上凹了一块的蜘蛛在迅速爬动，阿莉亚使劲拍了它一下，它就爬进了墙缝里。 德克大声说：“来香槟！我们庆祝一下。” 阿莉亚张大了嘴巴，看样子不很赞成，或者是警觉，或者只是惊讶。 接下来的几分钟里，德克累得满头大汗，他凭借自己的聪明才智，还有一把叉子，一把削皮刀和一把碎冰锥在跟那瓶香槟做斗争。他刚才已经看到了，阿莉亚的厨房里没有那种圆锥形螺丝刀，她也没有香槟杯子，甚至连酒杯也没有；不过有洗得亮闪闪的盛果汁的杯子，德克在里面倒上那种泛着泡沫的液体。接着，两只玻璃杯轻轻地碰在了一起，还有很正式的祝词：“为我们干杯！”德克笑了。他想象着两只杯子碰得太猛烈而叮当破碎，香槟洒在他们身上，而实际上并没有那样。 两人的情绪有点激动，都很随意。是音乐在响吗？德克似乎听到了朦朦胧胧的音乐声，不是曲调，是欢快的敲击声。格伦?米勒。“珍珠弦乐”。阿莉亚环顾四周，表情困惑，又似乎很高兴，你会觉得她也听到了音乐声。 他们就这样在客厅里摸摸索索，找到地方坐了下来。德克觉得太热了，脱掉了夹克。他坐的那把钢琴凳摇摇晃晃，四周是一堆黄色的切尔尼教科书和《成人钢琴技巧》。阿莉亚在一把藤条靠背椅里面，紧挨着他。她那光着的脚趾头在不停地摆动着。阿莉亚把那个装着野花的透明花瓶拿到客厅，放在钢琴上，正对着他们的上方。 德克说话的时候面露难色，香槟像使人吐真言的药水一样在他身上发挥着作用：“我不是来奥尔巴尼办事的，我来这里没事，我是来特洛伊看你的，阿莉亚。” 阿莉亚迅速把手里的杯子举起来，闻了闻里面嘶嘶冒泡的液体，忽闪着她那颜色淡淡的睫毛。知道真相时，她可能吃了一惊，除非她毫不惊讶、但不作反应；而事实是她说话了，喃喃低语，德克几乎听不到，只好伸长了耳朵用力去听：“我只喝过两次香槟，还是在同一个地方，不过都不如今天的好喝。” 她哈哈大笑，身体颤抖着。德克出神地盯着她，很奇怪，她端庄、完美的嘴巴使他想起了一条美丽的热带鱼的身体——半透明的浅桃红色的身体，那条精致的一英寸长的小鱼是他买的，放进了夏洛特他儿时的玻璃缸里。那些神秘的小生物游来游去，摆动着带花边的尾巴和鱼鳍，它们飞快地冲向德克撒在水里的鱼食，又即刻抽身而去，去享受那短短的一分钟的美好时光，这些都使那个耸立于鱼缸旁、像笨重的半神人似的少年觉得不可思议。 他接着说：“我爱上你了，阿莉亚。我到这里来没有别的原因，我想你肯定知道这一点吧？”他自己都无法相信这是他在说话。他本来是要说些别的，说他想再见到阿莉亚。他觉得有必要再解释一下，他看到阿莉亚冷冷地盯着酒杯里的东西。“请不要误会，阿莉亚。通常我周一都是很忙的，周一到周五要上班，我不是那种经常在纽约到处乱逛的人，我是一名律师，是名诉讼律师，我在尼亚加拉大瀑布和布法罗的一家私人事务所工作。”（要不要给阿莉亚一张名片呢？他的钱包里有一大叠呢。）他支吾道：“我休假去大瀑布找你的那个星期是——不是——我正常工作的一周。我不是一个志愿急救工作者。一般情况下，我一直在工作，每天都是，那些可恶的漫长的日子，我是说——”他的舌头似乎太大了，怎么都说不清楚。他不知道自己在说什么。“我爱上你了，阿莉亚，我要娶你。” 就那样。这些就是他说的话。 他长途跋涉，开车跑了三百多英里来向一个女人做如此荒谬的表白，而那个女人却依然盯着自己的酒杯。她那小巧的鼻子皱了皱，似乎是努力忍住，不打喷嚏。 终于，她说话了，一脸严峻，“娶我！为什么，你甚至还不了解我呢。” “我不需要了解你，”德克无力地说，“我爱你。” “这太荒唐了。” “有什么荒唐的？这是爱。” “你只会离开我，像别人一样。” 她忧郁地说着，喝了一口香槟。 “到底为什么要离开你呢？我决不会。” 阿莉亚摇摇头，用手拭了拭眼睛，突然，她露出一副要哭出来的样子。 德克温和地说：“我知道，你经历过可怕的事情。但我不是那种——”德克停下来，他不想以任何方式提到那个人；如果能回避的话，他希望在他们的生活中永远不要提到那个人。“我和别人不一样，和你知道的所有人都不一样，如果你了解我的话，亲爱的，你会知道的。” 他大胆的表白久久地回荡在空气里，像弥漫在钢琴上的野花的花粉香味一样。 “可是我不了解你，波纳比先生。” “请叫我'德克'，阿莉亚，可以吗？” “德克?波纳比先生。我不了解你。” “你会了解我的。我们订婚，你想多久都行。那整整一个星期我们都在一起。守夜的时候。我想那是漫长的七天。” 阿莉亚像个倔强的孩子一样，皱了皱眉头，她似乎要反驳德克，但是想了想，又呷了口香槟。她的睫毛在不能自已地抖动。 他爱这个难以捉摸的女人，这份爱是那么地强烈，德克觉得脚下的地板在移动。有那么一会儿，德克以为自己是在一只木筏上，它漂在河面上，那么小，几乎看不到，也感觉不到它的存在。 “阿莉亚，我能吻你吗？就一下。” 阿莉亚似乎没有听到，摇摇头，仿佛要让自己清醒一下，“香槟在我身上产生了奇怪的作用。” "What's wrong?" “邪恶的作用。” 德克笑了：“太好了，如我所愿。” 阿莉亚大笑起来，那么怪异。德克很不自在地想起了她的尖笑声——第一次看到已故丈夫浮肿尸体时所发出的尖笑声。 “对你来说，我似乎太老了吧。男人都喜欢年轻女孩儿——不是吗？” 德克有点生气地说：“我不是那些'男人们'，我就是我自己，我不要年轻的女孩儿，我要你。” 阿莉亚又喝了一口香槟，高深莫测地笑了笑。 “声名狼藉的'寡妇新娘'啊。你可真勇敢啊，先生。” “我需要一个我能理性去尊重她的妻子，一个比我聪明，比我敏感，比我坚强的妻子，一个当我有事情做不了、而她却能得心应手地去做那些事情的妻子。” 这么好斗！德克觉得自己像一个为命运而战的男人。 似乎是经过了一番深思熟虑，阿莉亚说：“可是你也会离开我的，在蜜月里。” 这个女人太让人恼火了！德克似乎已经看到自己将来一生都要在战斗中度过了。 “阿莉亚，我为什么要离开你呢？我是那么的爱你。你是我的灵魂。” 一时冲动之下，他向前欠了欠身子，双手捧住了阿莉亚削瘦、发烫的脸，吻住了她的朱唇，让阿莉亚觉得出乎意料，热情而又温暖。让他感到些许震惊的是，尽管似乎是在嘲笑他，她竟然在回吻他。 她答应了，像一只弓起身子的小猫一样，用自己那充满渴望的瘦小的身体去迎合那个男人。她答应了。为了他那圆月一样饱满、英俊的脸庞。为了他令人震惊的镍币一样闪亮的眼睛。为了他那毫不费力地发自胸腔的男中音。为了他那让她强烈地感觉到的善良和正派。为了他那张似乎一不小心就会被她的话语伤害的嘴。为了他非凡的勇气。为了他的无所畏惧，即使算不上是妻子，她也曾做过另一个男人的新娘；她曾嫁给另一个男人，尽管那个男人并不爱她。在性爱和情欲方面，她还是个处女，尽管她感觉到她年轻的丈夫温热又带着酸味的精液流到了她的肚子上还有她两腿间潮湿浓密的阴毛上。不过她答应了，她要嫁给德克?波纳比。为了那束野花。为了他宽厚温柔的手掌的爱抚，还有他的舌头。为了他那令人兴奋的粗大坚挺的阴茎。对阿莉亚来说，似乎在一个小时以前、在她匆匆喝下两杯香槟之前，那还是绝对不能想起的东西。为了他的吻和他那野蛮的嘴巴。为了他那健壮结实的肩膀、后背和大腿。为了他那滑落到他和她脸颊上的头发。尽管她似乎知道他也会离开自己。尽管她似乎知道自己将身遭诅咒。尽管她因身遭诅咒而不应该得到幸福。尽管她因身遭诅咒而满不在乎自己会得到幸福还是受到诅咒。为了他显而易见的聪明才智。为了他得体的举止和他的幽默感，他总是会在无意之中让他和她哈哈大笑。他的笑是发自身体深处的，使他那白皙的孩子气的面部热血沸腾。为了他在自己身上轻缓的动作，她没有料到会是那样，她无法想象。为了可能会怀孕的冒险，这是每个沉浸在第一次做爱激情之中的女人都会关心的事情，而当那件事突然发生的时候，阿莉亚似乎并没有想到会有危险。沉浸在第一次做爱的激情之中，沉浸在第一次做爱的兴奋、激情和疯狂之中。为了她全然不知跟一个男人在一起就要冒怀孕的风险。尽管（按照她病态的思维方式）她已经深陷恐惧之中，她怀疑自己应经怀孕了，因为她那糟糕的新婚之夜和那种温热的带有酸味的东西。为了这个男人对她的那种原始的欲望。为了他身上的那种味道，发酵的烤面包的味道。为了他眼中闪烁的对她的爱意。为了这样的事实（她知道！）—— 他几乎对自己一无所知。为了她身体里那种灼热的感觉，越升越高，越升越高，像喷泉的喷嘴儿一样，使她呻吟着，尖叫着；她大张着嘴巴，样子一定难看极了；她的嘴唇从紧咬的牙齿里抽出来。为了这个让她如此销魂的男人，他不知疲倦地填满了她那瘦小又无限大的身体。