Chapter 2 two

He spoke in a very calm voice as a narrative fact.Within an hour, the news spread throughout the town.That day the whole town was collectively weaving a terrible and grim story.There are all the heart-shattering details in it—a hunchback, a body buried in a swamp in the middle of the night, Amelia being dragged through the streets and thrown in jail, followed by another property fight—telling it all It is always in a subdued voice, adding some new eerie detail with each repetition.It was raining, but the women forgot to collect their clothes.There were a few people who were in debt to Miss Amelia, and they even got dressed as if they were on holiday.People were discussing in a group on the street and watching the store.

It's not quite true that the whole town took part in this wicked celebration.There were a few sane people who reasoned that since Miss Amelia had plenty of money, why would she murder a bum for a little rags.There are still three good people in the town who don't want to see such a crime, even if it can bring great interest and excitement; What fun.These good people saw Miss Amelia in a different light.When a person like her is unnatural in all aspects, and a person has done so many bad things that people can't think about it—then, such a person should be judged by special standards.They remembered that Miss Amelia was born dark and dark, with a strange face; A girl's home is unnatural in itself.Besides, her way of life and habits were unreasonably strange.Above all, they remembered her strange marriage, one of the most senseless scandals the town had ever seen.

These good people therefore felt for her a feeling akin to pity.When she went out and did something rough, like break into someone's house and have a sewing machine hauled out to pay her debts, or get herself involved in a lawsuit--they'd have a thing for her. A mixed feeling of exasperation, absurd tickle, and deep, nameless sadness.But that's enough to say about the good guys, because there are only three of them.As for the rest of the town, they spent the afternoon celebrating this imaginary crime like a festival. Somehow Miss Amelia herself seemed to know nothing of all this.She spent most of the day upstairs.When she came downstairs to the shop, she walked around peacefully, with her hands deep in her overalls pockets, her head drooping, her chin almost inserted into the collar of her shirt.No blood was seen anywhere on her body.Often she would stop and simply look gloomily at the cracks in the floorboards, curl a lock of short hair, and mutter something to herself.But she spent almost the whole day upstairs.

Night fell.The rain had chilled the air that afternoon, so that the night was dreary and gray like winter.There were no stars in the sky, and a cold drizzle began to fall.From the street, the flickering lights in the house were worrying.There was a wind, but not from the swamp beyond the town, but from the cold pine woods. The town clock struck eight.Still nothing.After a day of dreadful talk, this dreary night brought terror to some, who stayed at home close to the fire.The others gathered together in groups.There were eight or nine people gathered on the porch of Miss Amelia's shop.They didn't say a word, they just waited.Even they themselves don't know what they are waiting for.But here's the thing: at critical moments, when some great event is about to happen, people always gather and wait like this.After a while, there comes a moment when they act together, not out of deliberation, nor under anyone's will, but as if their instincts have converged so that the decision does not belong to them Any one individual, but the entire collective.No one hesitates at such a moment.Whether the result of this joint action was looting, violence, or crime, it all depends on the arrangement of fate.Now, this group of people waited sullenly on the front porch of Miss Amelia's shop, no one knew what they wanted to do, but they all knew in their hearts that they had to wait, and the time was coming soon.

What needs to be confessed is that the store door is open.The inside is very bright and looks normal. On the left is the counter, with pork, rock sugar and tobacco piled on it.Inside the counter are shelves for cured meat and miscellaneous grains.The right side of the store basically has such things as farm tools.At the far end of the shop, to the left, was a door leading to a staircase, which was open.At the far right, there was another door, which led to a small flat which Miss Amelia called her office.This door is also open.At eight o'clock that night, Miss Amelia could be seen sitting at her flip-flop desk with a pen and some paper, calculating.

The bright lights in the office make it a pleasure to see.Miss Amelia seemed not to have noticed the delegation on the porch.Everything around her is in order, as always.This office is also a room of fame throughout the county, almost awe-inspiring.It was here that Miss Amelia took care of everything.On the desk was a well-covered typewriter, which she knew how to use, but only for the most important documents.There were literally thousands of sheets of paper in the drawer, all in alphabetical order.The office is also where Miss Amelia receives patients. She likes to treat people and often treats people.There are two full shelves full of various medicine bottles and medical equipment.Against the wall stood a bench for the sick to sit on.She used burnt needles to sew wounds so that the wounds would not fester.For burns, she has a cooling syrup.For undiagnosed diseases, she also has a variety of medicines that she personally decocts according to secret recipes.These medicines are very effective for laxatives, but they cannot be given to young children, because they will cause convulsions; for young children, she has specially prepared a completely different medicine, which is much milder and sweeter.Yes, on the whole, everyone thinks she is a good doctor.Although her hands are large and have protruding joints, they are very light.She is very intelligent and uses hundreds of different remedies.She was not relentless when the most dangerous and unusual methods of treatment were called for.There was no disease too serious for her to be cured, with one exception in this respect.Miss Amelia couldn't do anything if a sick man came and said he had a woman's disease.Indeed, whenever the disease was mentioned, her face would darken a little with shame, and she would stand there with her neck bent, her chin on her shirt collar, or rubbing her cheeks. A pair of rain boots, just like a big child who is tongue-tied and ashamed.But in other things people believed her.She doesn't take any money for medical expenses, so she is often full of sick people.

Miss Amelia wrote a lot with her pen that evening.But even so, it was impossible for her to remain unaware that there was a group of people waiting on the dark porch, watching her.After a while she raised her head and looked at them intently.But she didn't yell at them, asking why they were hanging out in front of her shop like a bunch of boring gossips.The look on her face was proud and stern, as she always was when she sat at her desk in her office.After a while, their prying eyes seemed to bother her.She wiped her face with a red handkerchief, stood up, and closed the office door. To the group in the porch, the gesture seemed like a signal.That moment has finally arrived.They had stood for a long time in the cold, damp night.They waited a long time, and at this moment, the instinct to act appeared in them.In an instant, as if directed by a single will, they all entered the shop.At that moment, the eight people looked very much alike—all in blue overalls, most with gray hair, and everyone with pale faces and glassy, ​​dreamy eyes.What they will do next is anyone's guess.But at this moment, a voice came from the top of the stairs.When they looked up, they were all dumbfounded.It turned out to be the hunchback, the hunchback that had been murdered in their imagination.Also, the man was nothing like they'd heard--not a poor, dirty little babbler who had no one to live by begging for a living.In fact, he was unlike anything these men had ever seen.The room was dead silent.

The hunchback came down the stairs slowly, with the arrogance of the big boss of the shop.In the past few days, great changes have taken place in him.First of all, he is impeccably clean.He still had the little coat on, but it was cleanly brushed and nicely patched.Under the coat was a new red and black checked shirt from Miss Amelia.Instead of the usual trousers, he wore breeches that reached to the knees and were very tight.A pair of black stockings were worn on those skinny legs.His boots were peculiar, odd-looking, freshly waxed and polished, and tied up to the ankles.He wore a lime-green wool scarf around his neck, almost covering his large white ears, the fringes of which trailed almost to the ground.

The hunchback came into the shop with small, stiff, airy steps, and came into the middle of the group.They made room for him and stood watching him, hands hanging loose at their sides, eyes wide open.The hunchback behaves oddly, too.He gazed at each of them at his eye level, which was about as high as an average person's belt.Then he took a slow, deliberate look at each person's lower body—from the waist down to the heels.When he had seen enough, he closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head, as if thinking that what he had just seen was insignificant.Then he threw back his head confidently, as if merely to make himself clearer, and slowly and carefully surveyed the faces that surrounded him.There was a half-full manure sack to the left of the shop, and the hunchback found its place here, and sat down on the sack.After he sat down comfortably with his thin legs crossed, he took something out of his coat pocket.

It took a while for those people in the store to get back to normal.Merry Ryan, the one who started spreading the rumors with malaria every three days, spoke first.He glanced at the objects the hunchback was holding, and asked in a low voice: "What is that in your hand?" Everyone knew exactly what the hunchback was holding.It was a snuff-box which had belonged to Miss Amelia's father, and was blue enamel, with a lid intricately inlaid with gold filigree.Everyone was surprised by the familiarity of this object.They glanced cautiously toward the closed door of the office, and heard Miss Amelia's soft whistle still blowing.

"Well, what is it, little peanut is in American slang, and little peanut refers to a short person." The hunchback raised his eyes quickly, closed his mouth tighter, and was about to retaliate: "Oh, this is a magic weapon, specially designed to punish people who meddle in their own business." The hunchback put his thin, trembling fingers into the snuff box, squeezed a pinch of something into his mouth, and disrespected anyone around him.What he put in was not ordinary snuff, but a mixture of sugar and cocoa.But he took it like snuff, put a pinch on the inside of his lower lip, and licked it there with the tip of his tongue, distorting his face every time he licked. "This tooth of mine keeps making my mouth feel sour," he explained. "So I have to have some of this sweet tooth." The group of people still clustered around him, a little embarrassed, not knowing what to do.Their excitement had not quite died away, but it was soon joined by another emotion--the friendly atmosphere in the room and a vague sense of festival.Those who were there that night were: Hastie Marona, Robert Culverhall, Merry Ryan, Reverend TM Welling, Rosecrane, Rube Wellbon, Henry "Curly" Ford, and Horace Wells.With the exception of Reverend Welling, the others were alike in many respects which have just been mentioned--they all took pleasure in one thing or another, and all wept over one in varying degrees. Yes, I have felt pain.Most of them are docile unless you provoke him.They all work in cotton mills and share two or three-room houses with others. The rent is ten to twelve yuan a month.They were all paid this afternoon because it was Saturday.Therefore, please consider them as a whole for the time being. However, the hunchback had already classified them in his mind.After he sat down comfortably, he started chatting with everyone, asking him a lot of questions: whether he was married, how old he was, how much money he earned per week on average, and so on. ... Gradually, and tentatively, some very intimate questions were raised.Soon, a few more people from the town came and strengthened the group.There was Henry Macy, and a few bums, who instinctively sensed that something unusual was going on here.A few women also came, and they came to drag the man who refused to leave.There was even an unattended, fair-haired kid who tiptoed in, snuck a box of animal biscuits, and quietly backed out.In this way, Miss Amelia's shop was quickly crowded with people inside and out, but she still did not open the door of the office. There are people who have a quality in them that sets them apart from the more ordinary people.Such persons have an instinct which formerly existed only in young children, which enables them to establish a more direct and significant connection with the outside world.Little hunchback is obviously such a person.He was in the shop for a total of half an hour, and he established a direct connection with everyone, as if he had lived in the town for many years, was a well-known figure, and had been sitting on this bag of manure chatting for countless nights.This, and the fact that it happened to be a Saturday night, contributed to an air of liberty and an uncharacteristically cheerful atmosphere in the shop.But at the same time there was tension in the air, partly because of the strangeness of the situation, but also because Miss Amelia was still shut up in her office and hadn't been seen so far. At ten o'clock that night, she came out.Those who waited for a good show when she came out were disappointed.She opened the door and entered the shop with her slow, baggy step.There was a trace of ink on one side of her nose, and she tied the red handkerchief around her neck in a knot.She didn't seem to notice any signs of abnormality.She glanced away from her cross gray eyes to where the hunchback sat, and lingered there for a moment.For the large group of people in the store, she just glanced in surprise. "Anyone want to buy anything?" she asked quietly. It was a Saturday night, so there were quite a few customers, and all they wanted was wine.Only three days ago Miss Amelia had brought a cask of old wine out of the field and was siphoning it into bottles at the distillery. That night, she took money from customers and counted them by the bright lights.This procedure is no different from the past, but it will be different if you go any further.As was customary, the customers had to go around to the back yard, where Miss Amelia handed them the bottle by the kitchen door.There is no fun in buying things like this.Customers have to go out into the night when they get their wine.If his wife wouldn't let him drink at home, he could go back out on the front porch of the store and down there or down the street, gulping it down.Of course, the front porch and the street in front of the store are Miss Amelia's property, that's clear--but she doesn't keep them all within her boundaries, which start from the front door. including the interior area of ​​the entire building.She never allowed anyone in her house to open a bottle and drink, the only exception being herself.Now she made an exception for the first time.She went into the kitchen, followed closely by the hunchback, and carried the wine back into the warm, bright shop.Not only that, she also took out a few cups, opened two boxes of soda biscuits, and put them generously in a basin on the counter, so that anyone who wanted to eat could take them. She didn't talk to anyone else, she just talked to the hunchback, and when she asked him, she only used a somewhat astringent and hoarse voice: "Cousin Li Meng, do you want to eat right now, or put the rice on the stove to warm it over water? " "I'd like to keep it warm if it's convenient, Amelia." Ten days' husband has never called her that. In fact, no one has dared to call her that endearingly since her father died. As for her father, for some reason, he always calls her "Chicken.") This is the cafe The reason.It's that simple.You will recall that the evening was as dreary as a winter's night, and it would have been too dull to sit outside the shop and rejoice.But inside it is both lively and friendly.I don't know who got the stove in the back of the store, so that the fire can be heated up, and the person who bought the wine passed the bottle to his friends to drink together.There were also a few women in the store, chewing licorice sticks, drinking a glass of sherbet, and even sipping whiskey.The hunchback was still a rarity, and his presence was new to everyone.The benches from the office were brought out, and some chairs were brought in.Those without a seat leaned against the counter, or found a comfortable seat on the barrel and the pocket.Drinking in the shop did not provoke any rude manners, lewd smirks, or anything inappropriate.On the contrary, all were polite, even to the point of being overly prim.Because, at that time, people in this town were not used to getting together to have fun.What they are used to is to work together in the textile factory.Otherwise, go out on Sunday and hold a full day of religious congregation in the field—interesting, but the point is to give you a new view of hell and a renewed awe of the Almighty.But the atmosphere in the cafe is completely different. In a decent café, even the richest, greediest old rascal will behave himself and not bully anyone.The poor look around gratefully, and grab a pinch of salt with great grace and dignity.Because the atmosphere of a decent coffee shop means such content: everyone is friendly, the stomach is full of satisfaction, and the behavior is elegant and noble.Of course, no one ever told that to the group at Amelia's that night.But they all understood, although, of course, there had never been a café in town up to this time. The cause of all this, namely, that Miss Amelia stood at the kitchen door almost all evening.Externally, she hasn't changed a bit.But many people noticed her face.She watched all that was going on, but her eyes were almost always on the hunchback lonely.He strutted about the shop with great splendor, eating from a snuff-box, and had a surly and agreeable temper.Just where Miss Amelia stood, the chimney of the stove cast a light, which somewhat illuminated her long brown face.She seemed to be looking inside herself.Her expression contained pain, confusion, and unsure joy.Her lips were not as tight as usual, and she often swallowed a mouthful of saliva.Her skin was pale, and her large idle hands were sweating.In short, she looked like a lonely lover that night.The opening ceremony of the cafe didn't end until midnight.Everyone bid farewell to everyone very kindly.Miss Amelia closed the front door of the store, but forgot to put the deadbolt.Soon everything—the avenue with its three shops, the mill, the houses—indeed the whole town, was sunk in darkness and silence.Three days and three nights, including the arrival of strangers, an unholy festival and the opening of the café, ended with it.