Chapter 20 April 8, 1928 (3)

April 8, 1928 (3) "How I manage the house is my business," Jason said. "Are you willing to help me?" "You drove her out of the house," said the sheriff. "And I still have some doubts about who the money should be negotiated with. I think I will never figure out this case." Jason was standing, his hands slowly twisting the brim of the hat he was holding.He said softly, "So, are you going to help me catch them?" "It's none of my business, Jason, and if you have any solid evidence, of course I'll have to act. But since there's no evidence, I'll just have to think it's outside my remit."

"That's your answer, isn't it?" Jason said. "Think about it before it's too late." "Nothing to think about, Jason." "Okay then," Jason said.He put on his hat. "You'll regret it. I'm not alone. This isn't Russia, where anyone who wears a little tin badge can be lawless." He stepped down Step up, get in the car, start the engine.The sheriff watched as he started, turned, and sped away from the house, toward town. The bell struck again, floating high in the passing sunlight, torn into bright, chaotic waves.Jason stopped in front of a gas station to have the tires checked and filled up.

"It's a long way to go, isn't it?" the black man at the gas station asked him.He ignored it. "Looks like it's going to clear up at last," said the Negro. "It's clear? To hell with it," Jason said. "It's going to be pouring by twelve o'clock." He looked at the sky and thought of the rain, the muddy dirt road, and being stuck in a car park miles from the city. A broken place is in a dilemma.He even thought gloatingly that he must have missed lunch, and that he was in such a hurry that he must be at noon in a place that was equally far from both towns, without a village or a shop behind.He also felt that the present moment was a natural respite, so he said to the Negro:

"What the hell is going on with you? Did someone pay you to stop this car from moving as much as possible." "There's no air left in this tire," said the black person. "Then get the hell out of here and give me the pump," Jason said. "It's puffing up now," said the Negro as he stood up. "You can go." Jason got in the car, started the engine, and drove away.He shifted into second gear, the engine crackling, gasping for breath.Then he cranked the engine up to full throttle, slammed down on the gas pedal, and pulled the valve violently. "It's going to rain soon," he said, "by the time I'm halfway there, there's going to be a downpour." As he drove away from where he could hear the bells and left the town, a picture of himself appeared in his mind. The scene of being stuck in the mud and trying to find two horses to pull the car out. "But those horses are all at the church door." He imagined how he finally found a church, and he was about to pull a pair of horses away, but the owner of the cattle came out of the church, yelling at him. He screamed, how he swung his fist and knocked the man down to the ground. "I'm Jason Compson, let's see who stands in my way. Let your elected officials stand in my way," he said, as if he saw himself leading a troop of soldiers into the courthouse to get the sheriff out. . "This guy thought he could sit with his arms crossed and watch me lose my job. I'll show him what kind of job I'm going to get." arbitrary evaluation.For ten years, the two had lost their sense of substance and individuality in his eyes; combined, they were only a symbol of the job at the bank that he lost before he got it.

The weather has become clearer, and now it is not the sun but the shadows of clouds that are flying across the ground quickly.The clearing of the weather seemed to him another vicious blow from the enemy, another battle to which he fought with many scars; Painted wooden buildings with tin spires, horses tied around, and dilapidated cars parked. In his view, every church is a sentry box, with the guards of "fate" standing inside. She turned her head and glanced at him secretly. "You're all bastards, too," he said, "and see if you can stop me!" He remembered how he had led a troop of soldiers along, dragging the handcuffed sheriff along, and how he would bring Almighty God along with him. Pulled down from his throne, if necessary, he also remembered that the heavenly soldiers and generals in the sky and the ghost soldiers and ghost soldiers in hell were all waiting for him, how he fought a bloody way through them, and finally caught the fleeing The niece who is away.

The wind was blowing from the southeast, and it kept blowing on his cheeks. He seemed to feel that the continuous wind was blowing deep into his skull. Suddenly, an ancient premonition made him pull the brakes tightly and stop the car. , sat there motionless.Then he reached out and touched his neck and began to curse, and he cursed in a rattling voice as he sat in the car.In the past, whenever he had to drive for a long distance, in order to prevent headaches, he would always bring a handkerchief soaked in camphor water, and when the car left the town, he would wrap the handkerchief around his neck so that the smell of the medicine could be absorbed. .Now, he climbed out of the car and flipped up the seat cushion, hoping that one of these handkerchiefs would get away with it.He searched under the front and rear seats, and stood up again, cursing, mocking victory as it neared him.He closed his eyes and leaned against the car door.Whether he went back to get the camphor water he forgot to bring, or kept going, no matter what he did, he would have a splitting headache.If he went home, and it was Sunday, he would be sure to find the camphor, but if he kept driving, he might not be sure.But if he had gone back, he would have arrived at Mortson an hour and a half late. "Or I'd drive more slowly," he said. "I'll drive slower and think about other things, maybe it doesn't matter—"

He got into the car and started it. "Let me think of something else," he said, and Loren came to mind.He imagined himself sleeping in the same bed with her, but he was just lying next to her, begging her for help, but then he remembered the money, and thought that he was in the hands of a woman, especially a little girl. I stumbled.If only he could convince himself that it was the man who took his money.The money that was robbed was used by him to compensate for the loss of the job that he didn't get. He took a lot of thought and risk to get it. Errands, the worst thing is that it is not someone else who makes him lose his wind, but a cheap girl.He continued on his way, turning up a corner of his lapels to keep out the constant cool breeze.

He seemed to be able to see the various forces opposed to his fate and will are rapidly gathering towards a meeting point. If this place was captured, the situation could never be reversed, and he became cunning.I can't make rash mistakes, he told himself.There is only one correct way, and there are no other alternatives. He must take this way. He believes that the dog and man will recognize him when they see him, but he can only pin his hope on seeing him first. To her, unless the man is still wearing that red tie.He had to recognize it by the red tie, and it seemed to be the sum total of the impending disaster; he could almost smell it, feel it through the throbbing of his head.

He climbed the last hill.Smoke hung in valleys, between roofs and a pinnacle or two peeking out among the trees.He drove downhill and into town, slowing down and telling himself again to be careful, first of all to find out where the big tent was.His eyes couldn't see very clearly now, and he knew it was the catastrophe that kept ordering him to run straight ahead while he got something to heal his head.At a gas station, he was told that the theater tent hadn't been set up yet, but the troupe's special cars were parked on the side track of the station.So he drove there. Two gaudyly painted Pullman cars lay on a single track.He looked at them before getting out of the car.He tried to breathe shallowly so the blood wouldn't beat so hard in his skull.He got out of the car and walked along the station wall, watching the sleeping cars.There are several clothes hanging outside the car window, tired and wrinkled, as if they have been washed recently.There were three camp chairs on the floor next to the running boards of one carriage.But he saw no sign of anyone, and after a while, he saw a man wearing a dirty apron walk to the door of the car, carelessly pouring out a pot of dirty water, so that the metal belly of the pot reflected sunlight , Then, the man went back into the car.

I'll have to catch him off guard and knock him down before he warns them, he thought.It never occurred to him that they might not be here, not in this compartment, it seemed to him that they weren't here, and that the outcome of the whole thing didn't depend on whether he saw them first or they saw him first. Very unnatural and unconventional.And in his opinion, the most important thing is: he must meet them first and get the money back. After that, they can do whatever they like, and it has nothing to do with him. Otherwise, the whole world will know that he, Jie That John Compson had been robbed, and Quentin, his niece, a little whore at that!

He scouted again.Then he walked to the front of the carriage, quickly and lightly stepped on the steps, and stopped at the door of the carriage.The kitchen in the car was dark and smelled of rotting food.The man was just a hazy white shadow singing a song in a hissing, quavering voice.It's an old man, he thought, and not as tall as I am.He stepped into the car just as the man raised his eyes to look at him. "Hi?" said the man, stopping his singing. "Where are they?" Jason said. "Come on, say, in the sleeping car?" "Who's where?" said the man. "Stop lying to me," Jason said.He stumbled forward in the dimness full of things. "What's going on?" said the man. "Who did you say lied to you?" Jason grabbed him by the shoulders, and the man yelled, "Look out, man!" "Stop lying to me," Jason said, "where are they?" "What's going on, you dumbass," said the man.His thin and slender arm was tightly held by Jason. He tried to break free, turned around, and began to fumble on the piled-up table behind him. "Tell me," Jason said, "where are they?" "When I get my hog-knife," the man shrieked, "I'll tell you." "Okay," Jason said, trying to grab hold of him, "I just wanted to ask you something." "You bastard," the man screamed, fumbling on the table.Jason wanted to wrap his arms around him, to keep his petty, nameless anger from bursting out.The old man's body was so old and weak, yet he was so reckless, Jason saw clearly that what he plunged into was a disaster. "Don't curse!" he said. "There, there! I'll go. Don't worry, I'll go." "Call me a liar," the man wailed. "Let go of me. Let go of me for a while, and I'll show you how good I am." Jason stared frantically around the man while hugging him.The sun is shining outside the carriage, the wind is blowing, the sky is high, lonely, and empty. He thinks that people will soon go home peacefully to enjoy Sunday lunch, that magnificent holiday feast, but he is struggling to Hugging the desperate, grumpy little old man, he didn't even dare to let go of his hands for a moment, so that he could turn around and run away. "Don't move, let me go down, okay?" He said, "Do you want to do it?" But the man was still struggling, Jason had to free one hand and punched him on the head.This punch was clumsy, hastily, and not too heavy, but the opponent had collapsed all of a sudden, and fell among a large pile of pots and pans, making a lot of clanging sounds.Jay leaned over him, panting, listening.Then he turned around and hurried out of the car.After running to the car door, he restrained himself, slowed down and climbed down the steps, and stood there for a while.His breathing became a whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr of hchhhhh, and he stopped, trying to breathe more easily, his eyes darting here and there.At this time, a sound of chaotic footsteps came from behind him, and he turned his head quickly, seeing the little old man staggering and jumping down from the aisle of the carriage in a rage, holding a rusty fist in his hand. ax. He grabbed the ax quickly, not feeling the blow, but knowing he was falling backwards, thinking that this was the end of the matter, and believing he was going to die, when something was in the back of his head There was a heavy slap on the top, he thought how could the old man hit me in this place, maybe he gave me a shot just now, he thought, but I just felt it now, he thought again Hurry up.Hurry up.Let's get this over with quickly, but then a fierce, raging desire to live came back to him, and he struggled so hard that he could still hear the old man crying and cursing in his hoarse voice. Someone dragged him from the ground at this point, he was still struggling, but they grabbed him and he stopped moving. "Am I bleeding a lot?" he said. "On the back of my head. Is it bleeding?" He was still talking, but he felt being hurriedly pushed away and heard the old man's thin, angry voice. The voice faded away behind him. "Look at my head," he said, "wait a minute, I—" "Wait no more," said his captor, "that little hornet will kill you. Go away. You're not hurt." "He hit me," Jason said. "Am I bleeding?" "Go away you," said the man.He led Jason around the corner of the station and came to an empty platform where a flatbed of the MRT was parked. There was an open space beside the platform that was overgrown with dull grass, and there was a dull border around it. There is a circle of flowers, and in the middle of the tree is a billboard with electric lights.The painting reads "Take a good look at Mortson with your eyes." A light bulb was placed where a human eyeball should have been painted.The man let go of him. "Listen," he said, "get out of here and never come back. What are you going to do? Kill yourself?" "I was looking for two people," Jason said. "I was just asking him where they were." "Who are you looking for?" "Find a girl," Jason said. "There's another guy. He had a red tie on in Jefferson yesterday. He's in your theater troupe. They two robbed me of my money." "Oh," said the man. "So it was you, no. Well, they're not here." "I figured they wouldn't be here either," Jason said.Leaning against the wall, he felt the back of his head with his hands, then looked at his palms. "I thought I was bleeding," he said. "I thought he hit me with that ax." "You hit the back of your head on the rail," the man said. "You better go. They're not here." "Well, he said they weren't here, too. I thought he was lying to me." "Do you think I'm lying to you too?" the man said. "No," Jason said. "I know they're not here." "I told him to fuck off, both of them to fuck off," the man said. "I won't allow such things to happen in my troupe. My troupe is well-behaved, and our actors are all well-behaved and decent people." "Yes," Jason said, "you don't know where they went?" "I don't know, and I don't want to know. In my troupe, no one is allowed to play tricks like this. Are you her—brother?" "No," Jason said. "That's irrelevant. I was just trying to find them. Are you sure he didn't break my head? No blood, I mean." "If I didn't get there in time, you'd be dead. You'd better go. That little bastard will kill you. Is that your car over there?" "yes." "Okay, get in and drive back to Jefferson. If you can find them, it won't be in my troupe. I'm a well-behaved troupe. You said you were robbery?" "No," Jason said. "It's not a big deal." He went to the car and got in.What should I do now?he thinks.Then he remembered.He started the engine and drove slowly down the street until he found a pharmacy.The door of the pharmacy is locked.With one hand on the doorknob, he stood with his head slightly bowed for a while.He had no choice but to turn away, and after a while, a man walked up the street, and he asked where there was a pharmacy open for business, and the man said there was nowhere.He asked again when the train going north would leave, and the man told him it was 2:30.He walked off the sidewalk and got back into the car, where he sat for a while.Two black young men came over.He stopped them. "Can any of you drive, boy?" "Yes, sir." "How much will it cost to drive me to Jefferson right now?" They glanced at each other, whispering in their mouths. "I'll give you a dollar," Jason said. They muttered again. "It's not worth a dollar," said a young man. "Then how much do you want?" "Can you go?" said a boy. "I can't go away," said the other. "Can't you take him there? You're fine." "No, I have something to do." "What's so great about you?" They muttered and laughed again. "I'll give you two dollars," Jason said. "Whoever goes will do." "I can't go away either," said the first lad. "Fine," Jason said. "Go your way." He sat in the car for a while.He heard a great clock strike at what time it was half-past, and then people in Sunday and Easter clothes began to pass by.A few people looked at him as they passed by, looking at this man who sat silently at the steering wheel of a car, his invisible life was like a torn sock, and the thread was loosening little by little.After a while a black man in overalls came over. "Are you going to Jefferson?" he said. "Yes," Jason said. "How much do you want?" "Four dollars." "Here are two dollars." "Four yuan, I can't go less," said the one sitting in the car without saying a word.He didn't even look at the Negro.The black said again, "Do you want it or not?" "Okay," Jason said, "get in the car." He moved aside and let the black man take the wheel.Jason closed his eyes.I'll have to take some medicine when I get back to Jefferson, he murmured, trying to get used to the bumps of the car.I'll need some medicine when I get back.They drove on, through streets where people were peacefully coming in to their Sunday lunches.Then they drove all the way out of town.He is thinking about his headache.He wasn't homesick. At home, Ben and Luster were sitting at the kitchen table eating a cold meal.Something—the absence of catastrophe and threat in every constant evil—enabled him to forget Jefferson as if it were just some town he had seen before, and not his own. A place where he had to live his old life again. After Ben and Luster finished their cold meal, Dilsey sent them out. "You try to keep him quiet until four o'clock. T.P. should be back by then, too." "All right, you," said Luster.They walked out.Dilsey ate by herself and cleaned the kitchen.She then went to the landing, and listened for a while, but heard nothing, and came back through the kitchen, out the yard door, and stopped on the steps.There was no sign of Ben or Luster anywhere, but as she stood there she heard another muffled clank coming from the direction of the cellar.She came to the cellar door, looked down, and saw the scene of the morning repeated. "That's what the man did," Luster said.He eyed the motionless saw with hopeful despondency. "I still can't find the right thing to knock it on," he said. "You can't find it anywhere in the cellar down there," Dilsey said. "You take him out into the sun. It's so wet, you're both going to get pneumonia." She stood watching them cross the yard to a cedar clump by the fence.After that, she went to her cabin. "Okay, stop humming," said Luster, "you've caused me enough trouble today." Here's a hammock, made of bucket staves in a woven rope net made.Luster was lying in the hammock, and Ben was walking on aimlessly, in a daze.He started humming again. "Come on, shut up," Luster said, "I'm really going to smack you." He lay back on the hammock.Ben stood still, but Luster could still hear him humming. "Are you going to keep your mouth shut?" Luster said.He climbed out of the hammock, followed the sound, and saw Ben squatting in front of a small mound.Buried to the left and right of the mound was a vial of blue glass, of the kind formerly used for poisons, and in one was a dead Jim'sgrass.Ben crouched in front of it, moaning, making a drawn-out, inarticulate sound.While humming, he looked around in a daze for something.At last he found a twig, and stuck it in the other little jar. "Why don't you give it to me," said Luster, "you want me to give you something real, so you can't do it without crying, do you? Well, I'll just weigh it." This time." He knelt down, pulled up the bottle and hid it behind him.Ben stopped moaning.He squatted there, inspecting the little hole where the bottle had just been buried, took a big breath, and was about to cry when Luster took the bottle out again. "Don't yell!" he hissed. "Look how dare you yell! Don't you dare. Here's the bottle. See? Here. You're always going to yell when you're here. Come on, let's see if they start playing." He took Ben by the arm and dragged him up, and the two of them came to the fence and stood there side by side, looking through the dense layer of unblooming trees. Honeysuckle, looking out over the pasture. "Look," said Luster, "a few people come by. See?" They watched as the four players hit the ball onto the green, into the hole, and walked to the tee to re-tee off.Ben groaned and muttered as he watched.One player shouted: "Here's the ball, Kai. Get the bat bag." "Don't make noise, Benji," Luster said, but Ben held on to the fence and shambled to a trot, crying in a hoarse, desperate voice.The man hit the ball and walked forward.Ben followed step by step until the fence turned a right angle, so he had no choice but to hold on to the fence and watched the man go away a little bit. "Would you shut up?" Luster said, "Will you shut up?" He shook Ben's arm.Ben gripped the bars, rattling and howling. "Can't you keep your mouth shut?" Luster said. "Can't you keep your mouth shut?" Ben stared blankly through the fence. "Okay then," Luster said, "I'll give you a reason to yell." He glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the house, and then said softly, "Katie! You roar now. Katie! Katie! Katie!" A minute later, through Ben's drawn out calls, Luster heard Dilsey's call.He took Ben's arm and dragged him across the yard to Dilsey. "I told you long ago that he wouldn't be quiet," said Luster. "You rascal!" said Dilsey, "what have you done to him?" "I didn't do anything. I told you a long time ago, when a guy plays ball, he's in a good mood." "You guys come up here," Dilsey said. "Stop crying, Benji. Well, stop crying." But he still refused to stop.They hurried across the yard to the cabin and entered. "Run and get that slipper," Dilsey said. "Just don't wake Miss Caroline, do you hear me? If she says anything, say I was watching him. Well, go on, you can't do anything wrong with it, I suppose." Le Stuart went out.Dilsey led Ben to the bed, sat him down beside her, held him, rocked him back and forth, and wiped his drooling mouth dry with the hem of her skirt. "Well, stop crying," she said, stroking his head, "stop crying. Dilsey's watching you." But he was still howling slowly, pitifully; The most solemn and most hopeless voice of all the wordless sufferings of the world.Luster came back with a white satin slipper.The slipper is now yellow, brittle, and soiled.They put it in Ben's hands, and he silenced his voice for a moment.But he was still humming, and after a while his voice grew louder again. "Do you think I can get T.P.?" Dilsey said. "He said yesterday that he was going to St. John's today. He promised to be back at four o'clock." Dilsey stroked Ben's head and shook him back and forth. "It's been so long, Jesus," she said, "It's been so long." "I'll drive that carriage too, Grandma," said Luster. "You're going to kill you both," Dilsey said. "You've got to be naughty to try to drive. I know you're smart enough, but I just don't trust you. Stop crying, all right." ,” she said, “stop crying. Stop crying.” "No, I'll be fine," Luster said. "I drove with T. P.." Dilsey rocked Ben in her arms. "Miss Caroline says if you try to keep him quiet, she'll get up and go downstairs to coax him herself." "Stop crying, baby," Dilsey said, stroking Ben's head. "Luster, my dear boy," she said, "will you listen to your grandmother and drive the carriage carefully?" "Yes, you," said Luster, "I can drive as well as T.P.." Dilsey stroked Ben's head, rocking it back and forth. "I've done my best," she said. "The Lord knows it. Then go and harness the car," she said, standing up.Luster ran out like a gust of wind.Ben clutched the slipper and cried. "Come on, stop crying. Luster is going to drive the wagon to take you to the graveyard. We needn't bother to get your cap," she said.She went to a small room in the corner separated by a floral curtain, and brought back the felt hat she had worn. "Our family has been more unlucky than it is now, and we don't need to hide it," she said. "Anyway, you are the Lord's child. I'm about to be the Lord's child too, praise Jesus. Now, put it on." She put the felt hat on his head and buttoned his coat.He was still crying.She took the slippers from his hand and set them aside, and they went out.At this moment Luster arrived with an old white horse pulling a rickety cart. "You'll be careful, Luster?" she said. "That's right, Grandma," Luster said.She helped Ban sit in the back seat, he stopped crying just now, but now he started whining again. "He wants his tweed," Luster said. "Wait, I'll pick one for him." "You don't move yet," Dilsey said, and she went up and grabbed a rope near the horse's mouth. "Okay, hurry up and pick it for him." Luster galloped around the corner of the house and ran towards the garden.He came back with only a daffodil. "This one's broken," Dilsey said, "why don't you get him a better one?" "Only got this one," Luster said. "You picked all the flowers on Friday, and you're taking them to decorate the church. Wait, I'll figure something out." Dilsey pulled the horse back, and Luster found a twig and two lengths of string, Made a pair of "splints" for the stems and handed them to Ben.Then he climbed into the carriage and took up the dead rope.Dilsey still held on to Mahler. "You know the way now," she said. "Go down the street, turn the corner at the square, go to the cemetery, and then go straight home." "Got it, Granny," said Luster, "come on, little queen." "You have to be careful, huh?" "Got it, you." And Dilsey let go of Mahler. "Come on, little queen," said Luster. "Hey," said Dilsey, "you give me the whip." "Oh, grandma," Luster said. "Give it to me quickly," Dilsey said, walking toward the wheel.Boss Luster reluctantly gave her the whip. "Then I can't make the little queen move her legs." "Don't worry about that," Dilsey said. "The little queen knows better than you how to go. All you have to do is hold the rein and sit firmly on the seat, and you don't have to worry about anything else. You know the way now, don't you?" "I know, grandma, isn't it the route that T.P. catches every Sunday?" "Then you can follow the gourd painting today." "That goes without saying. In fact, I've already driven a car for T.P., more than a hundred times." "Okay, you do him one more time," Dilsey said. "Okay, let's go. But if you hurt Ben, nigger, I don't know what to do with you myself. Penalty You must go in, but before the hard labor team comes to find you, I will send you in first." "All right, you," said Luster. "Brace yourself, little queen." He flicked the stiff rope on the broad back of the "Little Queen", and the carriage shook and moved forward. "Look out, Luster!" Dilsey said. "Come on, old horse!" said Luster.He flicked the rein again, and with a faint rumbling, the Little Queen slumped down the driveway and onto the street, where Luster urged it in a constant, slow-going Move forward as if wrestling. Ben stopped humming now.He was sitting in the middle of the back seat, holding up the trimmed flower upright, his eyes were serene and indescribable, facing him was Luster's bullet-like head, standing in front of him. The head kept turning and looking behind until the house was out of sight.After this, Luster stopped the carriage by the side of the road, jumped down, and broke a branch from the hedge.Ben, watching him helplessly. The "little queen" lowered her head and gnawed at the grass on the ground. Luster got into the carriage, pulled its head up, and urged it to move on.Then Luster stretched out his elbows, held up the branch and the rein, his buttocks bouncing up and down, completely out of tune with the sparse hooves of the "Little Queen" and the organ-like bass from his belly.Cars and pedestrians passed by them, and they also encountered a group of half-sized black guys. "Oh, Luster. Where are you going, Luster? To the place where the bones are buried?" "Hey," said Luster, "you're all heading for the bones too. Pull yourself together, my elephant." They approached the plaza, where a stone statue of a Confederate soldier stared forward with empty, beadless eyes under a weather-beaten marble palm.Luster became more energetic. He slapped the insensitive "little queen" hard, and glanced at the square. "Mr. Jason's car is here," he said, and out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of another group of Negroes approaching. "Show the niggers we look, Benji," he said, "what do you say?" He looked over his shoulder.Ban sat, clutching the flower tightly in his hand, his eyes were blank and unresponsive.Luster patted "Little Queen" again, drove to the monument, and turned the horse's head to the left. At first, Ben sat motionless in the carriage, as if there was nothing.Then he roared loudly. ① One sound after another, the sound is getting louder and louder, and there is almost no gap for breathing.The sound contained not only astonishment, but also horror and shock. It was a formless and indescribable pain. It was just a sound, so Luster's eyes rolled around, and for a moment the eye sockets were filled with whites. "For God's sake," said he, "don't bark, don't bark! Good God!" He turned back, and gave the little queen a smack with the branch.The branch broke, and he threw it away, while Ben's voice grew louder and higher to an unbelievable degree.Luster simply leaned forward and tightened the reins, while Jason jumped and ran across the square and stepped onto the steps of the carriage. With a flick of the back of his hand, he pushed Luster aside, grabbed the rein, put it in and out, bent the rein in and used it to lick Little Queen's ass.He jerked and jerked and he jerked and galloped, while Ben's growls rang in their ears, and he steered him around the right turn of the monument.After this he punched Luster on the head. "Why are you so stupid to let Benji go left?" he said.He bent over to beat Ban, and broke Ban's flower stalk again. "Shut up!" he said, "Shut up!" He reined in the "Little Queen" and jumped out of the car. "Take him back now. If you take him out of the gate again, I'll kill you!" ① According to Calvin Brown's "Faulkner's Southern Vocabulary", every county in the South has a Confederate monument.The one in Faulkner's hometown of Oakford is a statue of a Confederate soldier, located on the square in front of the courthouse.In the novel, Benji sits on T. P．赶的马车上墓地去，都从雕像右边拐弯。这一次勒斯特驾车从雕像左面转弯，故而引起班的情绪激动。 "是，老爷！"勒斯特说。他拿起缰绳用它的一端抽打"小王后"，"走呀！走呀，快点儿！班吉，看在老天的面上，别叫了！" 班的声音吼了又吼。"小王后"又移动了，得得的蹄声又均匀地响了起来。班马上就不叫了。勒斯特很快地扭过头来看了一眼，又接着赶路了。那支折断的花耷拉在班的拳头上，建筑物的飞檐和门面再次从左到右平稳地滑到后面去，这时，班的蓝色的眼睛又是茫然与安详的了：电杆、树木、窗子、门廊和招牌，每样东西又都是井井有条的了。