Chapter 2 Chapter 1 Blood Disaster

1 People would say it was fourteen years of hell.But she didn't feel this way, because she was often in a deep confusion, no different from death.She has imagined more than once that her life has not yet been born, and one day she will finally wake up from her dream with a long yawn and stretch like the beautiful heroine in a Disney cartoon.Whenever he beat her, she would lie in bed for a while in order to restore herself, and the hallucinations would occur. 1985 was the year of the Wendy Yarrow affair, the year of his official punishment, and the year of her miscarriage.She is beaten three or four times a year—it has happened a dozen times.That August, she was admitted to the hospital for the second and final time under Norman's care.She had been vomiting blood, and Norman waited three days to get her to the hospital, hoping she would gradually recover.When things started to get worse, he told her what to tell people (he always told her what to say) before taking her to St. Mary's Hospital.Her rescue was also thanks to the emergency services: they reported her miscarriage to the mayor.Doctors later discovered that a broken rib had lodged in her lung.The story of rolling down the stairs was repeated twice in just three months.She never expected that the intern doctor who had observed the whole process of diagnosis and treatment would actually believe this set of lies made up by Norman.They healed her wounds and sent her home.No one ever asked her any embarrassing questions.Norman thought he was lucky and reminded himself to be extra careful in the future.

Late at night, when she was lying on the bed, hallucinations flashed through her mind like shooting stars. Most of the time, what appeared in front of her eyes was her husband's fist, on the gold-carved police academy ring he was wearing, and on his finger. The joints were soaked with bright red blood.It wasn't until dawn that she finally saw clearly that the words engraved on the ring were: Service, Loyalty, Public Interest.They were engraved on her chest, reminding her of the blue Confederate seal on roasts and steaks. Whenever this hallucination appeared, she felt weak all over, and felt like falling down, and then she saw his fist shaking in front of her eyes.Finally, due to the violent shaking of her body, she woke up completely, and when she found herself lying beside him, she trembled again, secretly hoping that he would never wake up, if he found out that she woke him up in a nightmare, He'll give her a good meal of fists.

She has stepped into the gates of hell since she was eighteen years old, and she didn't wake up from the confusion until the second month after her thirty-second birthday, when half of her life had already been completed.What woke her up was a drop of blood the size of a dice. 2 She had found it on the coverlet when she was making the bed, apparently on her side.When the bed was made, the blood was exposed near the pillow.In fact, she could move the pillow a little to the left, just enough to cover the blood.As the bloodstain had dried long ago, it had turned a very ugly purple-brown color.She felt that this method was very simple, so she started to act.She couldn't change another one, because there was no spare white bed cover to replace, and if she changed a printed bed cover, she would have to find another printed sheet of the same color under it, or she would get herself into trouble.

She seemed to hear him say, Look, how the hell is the bed made, why you put a floral print over the white sheet.My God, you are so lazy.Come here, I want to have a close talk with you. She stood beside the bed, bathed in a spring light.This woman, whom he called a "lazy lady", cleaned the room like a spinning top every day, racking her brains to arrange three meals a day.She stood there, looking feebly at the blood on the coverlet, as if she had some kind of mental retardation, her face expressionless.I thought my damn nosebleed stopped yesterday.she said to herself.I'm pretty sure it was gone yesterday.

He rarely hit her in the face.He is not stupid.Whether he was a policeman or a professional detective, he had arrested many drunks who beat people in the face.If you're always punching your wife in the face, the next series of stories about stepping on empty stairs in the middle of the night, banging your head on a bathroom door, or stepping on a backyard rake won't hold water.People will find out that there is a problem, they will gossip about you, and even if your wife keeps quiet, it will end up getting you in trouble.Because the era of each sweeping the snow is over. However, this is not the worst case scenario.He has an extremely violent temper, which is sometimes neglected by him.This was the case last night, for example.When she brought the second cup of iced tea, she accidentally spilled a drop on his hand.Her nose suddenly spewed blood like a burst hose.He didn't realize at the time what he had done to her.He looked disgusted as the nosebleeds trickled down her lips and chin, and immediately became anxious, thinking: What if her nose really broke?Might need to go to the hospital again.She thought the real blow was coming again, and she was going to put on that apron again, and sit in the corner shaking and crying, trying to catch her breath before throwing up.She always wore that apron and let herself puke in it.She must not cry aloud in this room.She was always able to keep herself from throwing up on the floor, and she had to be extra careful as long as she wanted to stay alive.

His well-honed sense of self-preservation returned.He handed her an ice pack and let her walk into the living room.She lay on the couch with an ice pack between her teary eyes.He said that if you want to stop the bleeding as soon as possible, and you don't want your nose to be swollen, you need to apply it for a while.His biggest concern was edema.Tomorrow she was going shopping in the market, and the sunglasses could only cover the dark circles under her eyes, but not her swollen nose.Having done this, he resumed his interrupted supper of baked cookies and fresh baked potatoes. In the morning, she took a look in the mirror and found that the swelling was not very bad.He checked her carefully, and after confirming that there was no problem, he finished his coffee and went to work.In fact, she only used an ice pack for fifteen minutes to stop the bleeding.But it is very likely that sometime after she fell asleep late last night, a drop of nosebleed occasionally flowed from her nose, leaving today's terrible trace.In order not to be discovered by him, she had to endure the pain in her back and rearrange the bedding on the bed.In recent days, her back has been suffering from unbearable pain, and she can feel it even with slight movements.His back was one of his favorite places to vent his anger.He wouldn't hit her in the face, and the back was the safest area to teach someone a lesson.If he wanted her to shut up, there was no better way than this.For fourteen years, Norman had beaten her so viciously on her back that she had damaged her kidneys and she was urinating blood more and more frequently.But it no longer surprised or worried her, for it was just one of the many unhappiness that marriage caused, and other women were probably worse off than she was.Thousands of these events happen every day in this city, and still do today.

She looked at the bloodstains, and a nameless anger burned in her chest. She felt a little strange, and she trembled uncontrollably.She didn't know how people felt when they suddenly woke up from a nightmare. Beside her bed was a bentwood rocking-chair which she often, without reason, thought was as tired as she was.With her back to the rocking chair, she couldn't take her eyes off the drop of blood on the bed cover.Then she lay in the rocking chair for about five minutes.Hearing voices in the house, she jumped up in surprise, not realizing that it was her own voice. If this matter is not resolved soon, he will kill me.

The answer was hidden in the head, but it was so uncertain that it was more frightening than saying it aloud.Maybe he didn't want to kill me.Consider the possibility, what if he doesn't want to kill me? 3 She hasn't had time to think about it yet.She often thought that sooner or later he would beat her, and hit her where she was most vulnerable.Though she hasn't said it out loud once, at least not to this day. She felt the humming in her muscles and joints growing louder.She would often sit in a rocking chair with her hands in her pockets, staring through the bedroom door at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.This morning she was rocking in the rocking chair.She just wants to shake.The buzzing in her joints and muscles forced her to do it.The last thing she wanted to do was look in the mirror and care about how swollen her nose was.

Come here baby, I want to talk to you a little closer. Fourteen years, one hundred and sixty-eight months of old talk.It all started when she closed the door with a good bang on their wedding night.He pulled her hair hard, bit her shoulders, and did the most horrible thing to her with a tennis racket, causing a miscarriage and bruised lungs.Under the eyes of the clothes hide many old scars, most of which are bite marks.Norman is very fond of biting people with his teeth.At first she comforted herself by saying that it was a way of showing love.It was strange that she had ever had those youthful years.She thought, people come from young.

Come here baby, I want to talk to you a little closer. Suddenly, she began to recognize the hum.It has spread throughout the body.She was furious, and then went crazy.It's amazing to be aware of this change. Get out, part of her suddenly said.Get out of here now, get out of here now.Don't dawdle here, hurry up and get away from me. "That's ridiculous," she said, speeding up the swing.The blood on the sheets made her eyes blaze.From the perspective of a rocking chair, it looks like the little dot under the exclamation point. "It's ridiculous. Where else can I go?"

Go anywhere you never see him again.But you have to be one step ahead and act now. Get ahead of what? Simple, before falling asleep again. She suddenly realized that she appreciated the idea, but there was a startling clamor in the part of her psyche used to being abused.Did she really leave the home where she lived for fourteen years, where she could do whatever she wanted, and the husband who had supported her for fourteen years despite his bad temper and love to wave his fists?She felt that the idea was outrageous.It must be forgotten immediately. She almost did it.If it weren't for a drop of blood on the bed sheet, she would have almost forgotten this thought in the back of her mind.That drop of crimson blood. Don't look there!Another part of her mind cried out nervously.For Christ's sake, don't think like that, it'll be a disaster! But she was powerless to look away.Her eyes were still fixed on the drop of blood, and her body swayed faster in the rocking chair.The low (leather young) sneakers on her feet beat the ground in a quick rhythm.Now that buzzing sound still keeps echoing in her head, it shakes her nerves and irritates her heart.She was still thinking about the topic of fourteen years.In the past fourteen years, how many times have we talked closely with him.abortion.tennis racket.Three knocked out teeth, one of which was swallowed by himself.Broken ribs.slap.Twist or pinch.And, of course, teething.His ways of abuse are innumerable— Wait a minute, since you're not going anywhere, what's the use of your endless thinking about it?Even if you plan to escape, he will follow you closely and capture you back.Of course he can find you. He is a policeman by profession. Tracking is the means by which he makes a living, and it is also his best job. "Fourteen years," she murmured.What she had to think about now was not the past fourteen years, but the next fourteen years.Because another voice in her heart was saying that maybe he wouldn't kill her.But what would become of her if he continued to "get up close and talk" with her for the next fourteen years?Will she bow her head?Will her kidneys be safe?Could she, after a fatal blow, become a crippled limb, with a frozen face, forever expressionless? She stood up suddenly, and the back of the rocking chair hit the wall with too much force.She stood there blankly, panting non-stop while looking at the blood stain on the bed cover, and walked towards the living room after a while. where can you goWho do you think you are?The rational part of her brain yelled out loud, and she fought to hold herself back.Only now did she know what to do with herself.She picked up the purse from the coffee table and walked across the living room to the door.The room suddenly seemed very large. It was only a few steps away, but now it became so far away. I will do that one day.But now even going one step further would drive me crazy. She didn't find it difficult to do so.Since she was only hallucinating that she was doing this, she was sure that she would not run away from home at this moment.This must have happened in a dream.She was beaten up on her wedding night because she accidentally slammed the door. Since that moment, her ideals have long been buried, and she no longer has any illusions about the future. Her reason came out and she was talkative again.Even when things get to the extreme, you can't just walk away with that look, or at least put on those jeans that show off your busty butt and keep your hair neatly combed. She hesitated for a moment, and regretted it before she reached the door.Only then did she realize that the so-called voice of reason was just a desperate ploy to persuade herself to stay at home.This method is really clever.It doesn't take much time to take off the skirt, change into jeans, oil the hair and comb it, but it seems too long for a woman in her position up. What are you doing back home?Of course it went to sleep.When zipping up her jeans, she must have hesitated, and after combing her hair, she would even be in a moment of delirious dislocation. Then she would go back to the bedroom and change the sheet. "No," she muttered, "I wouldn't do that." The moment she turned the doorknob, she hesitated again. Reason finally restored!Her mind was shouting with joy, and seemed tinged with disappointment.Thank God the girl regained her sanity!Better late than never! As she trotted over to the hood of the gas stove, the joy in her heart gave way to a wordless terror.The furnace was installed by him two years ago.The thing she was determined to find might not be here.Generally, he always leaves it there at the end of the month. "Because I don't want to risk losing it," he'd say.It doesn't matter if you try it.She knows the code and just swaps the first and last digits of the phone number. How can it be okay!Reason yelled.As long as you dare to touch any of his things, there will be disaster!You know this very well! "He wouldn't put it there anyway," she whispered.Yet it was there, the light green Merchant Bank credit card with his name on it. Dare you touch it with your finger? But she found that she actually had the guts.It's actually very simple, just recall the blood on the bed sheet, and the courage returned to her.Besides, it was her credit card too, hadn't the wedding vows meant something to her? And it's not just about the money, not really.This is done only to silence the inner voice of the mind from now on.This sudden, unexpected act for freedom is not so much a matter of choice as a matter of necessity.If she didn't, she should have gone back to her room, changed the sheets quickly, and mopped the downstairs floor again before noon.It's hard to believe that when she wakes up from her dream every morning, the first thing she thinks of is mopping the floor. Regardless of the voice of reason, she took out her credit card from the stove hood, stuffed it into her purse, and walked quickly to the door. do not do that!Reason said sadly.Oh Rosie, don't you understand, not only will he hurt you, this time he'll put you in the hospital, he'll even kill you. How could she not understand.But she didn't stop.She lowered her head and shrugged her shoulders, as if she was walking against the wind.He could very well have done those horrible things to her, but he had to catch her first. This time, she turned the doorknob without hesitation.She opened the door and stepped out.It was a sunny day in mid-April and the branches were full of buds.Her figure was reflected in the hall, and the frail young grass seemed neat and fresh as if it were cut out of cardboard.She stopped and took a deep breath of the crisp spring air, made even more pleasant by the night's rain.Only a few minutes ago she was sleeping on the bed cover with a drop of blood on it. She thought, I am not the only one who wakes up, the whole world wakes up. As she closed the gate, a man in tracksuit ran across the sidewalk. He waved to her, and she waved back as if to answer him.She listened to her inner voice, hoping for another din.But there was silence.Perhaps her mind had been overwhelmed by her theft, perhaps this still April morning had tempered its rage. "I'm leaving. This time I'm really leaving," she whispered. She still stood there, like an animal that has been locked in a cage for a long time, and when it is free, it can't believe that all this is true.She reached out and touched the handle of the door that led to the cage that had held her captive for so many years. "It's over." She said softly, stuffing her purse under her arm, taking the first step towards the future. 4 The firm step toward the future and the sidewalk have become one.A jogger just ran past her.She turned left and stopped.Norman once told her that when a person gets lost in the woods, he often thinks that he is choosing a direction at will, but in fact any choice he makes is in the direction that is convenient for him.Maybe it didn't matter, but she'd rather he was wrong.After leaving home, she had strayed from Westmoreland Road, and came to a place she was not familiar with. This is not the worst. She is left-handed, but she keeps turning right, which means walking in the direction that is not convenient for her.She walked down the hill, trying not to raise her hands to cover her face as she passed the 24 store.She felt like a desperado, and a horrible thought kept gnawing at her mind like a mouse eating cheese: What if he came home early and found her gone?What if he saw her in jeans and sneakers, purse, and hair done, strolling downtown?He would find it strange that she didn't clean the floor at home early in the morning, what did she come here to do.Will he call her over?Tell her to come closer and come talk to him? It's a stupid idea, it doesn't make any sense.What reason did he have to go home now?He had only been gone for an hour. But people often do things that cannot be explained.See, she's not doing it herself.What if he suddenly had an intuition, it was possible.He had told her many times that the police had a brief sixth sense, a premonition when a supernatural event was about to happen.He once told her that if you put this needle on the thimble, you must feel it.I don't know how to explain this, I know people will laugh at me.But if you tell the police about it, he won't laugh at you.How many times has that little needle saved my life, baby. In the past twenty minutes or so, had he felt that needle?Would that feel get him into the car, take him home?If he's going home, he's going to go down this road.She could only blame herself for turning the wrong way off the sidewalk, turning to the right instead of the left.Then she had an even more horrifying thought: What if he came to the ATM two blocks away from the police headquarters, and when he wanted to withdraw ten or twenty dollars for lunch, but found that the credit card was left at home, decided What about taking it home? Calm down.These are just hypotheses and nothing will happen. A red car turned onto Westmoreland Road.As luck would have it, they—him, to be precise—happened to own a red car, a brand new Sandra.The car and the credit card and the money on the credit card do not belong to her.Coincidences follow!Could this car coming towards her be the red Sandra? No!It was a red Honda! Unfortunately, that car was not the red Honda she had hoped for, it was a red Sandra.A brand new red Sandra.And it was his one.The nightmare became reality almost as soon as it started. At this moment, her kidneys were unbelievably painful, and her bladder was extremely heavy and full, and she felt like she was about to pee in her pants.Does she really want to leave him?She must be insane. It's too late to regret now.Reason had already told her.The initial frenzy was over, and the only part of the mind that could think now was Mr. Reason.It always puts survival first.It said in a grim, prophetic tone that you had better think about it as soon as possible, what would you answer him if he asked what you were doing here.Try to make your story as complete as possible, you know how quick his reflexes are and how insightful he is. "Appreciate the flowers." She blurted out, "I went out for a walk and saw flowers blooming in many people's yards. Let's enjoy it by the way." She stopped, her legs tightly clamped together, trying to prevent the dam from collapsing.Can he take my word for it?she does not know.But that was all she could say, and she couldn't think of any other reason. "I was going to turn the corner of St. Mark's Road and go home and wipe..." She stopped thinking suddenly.Her eyes widened in disbelief that the car was just a not-so-new Honda, and more precisely, it was orange.The woman behind the wheel gave her a strange look as the orange Honda slid past her.As she walked the sidewalk, she thought, If this is really his car, no matter what story you make up, even if it has a high degree of believability, he can see holes in your face.Now are you going to regain your sanity and go home? Absolutely not.Her urinary urgency has passed, but her bladder is still full and heavy and her kidneys are still aching.She was terrified, her legs were shaking and her heart was beating wildly.Although the slope was slight, she was unable to walk back up the slope. You can do it, you know you can.You've dealt with much tougher things in your married life than this, and you've all succeeded. Yes, maybe she could climb back up that ramp.But now another thought flashed through her mind.Sometimes he would call her, usually about five or six times a month, sometimes more.He just said something like hello, do you want me to bring back a pint of 2-in-1 ice cream?Okay, goodbye to that kind of talk.She couldn't hear any concern for her from the calls.He just wanted to see if she was home.If she didn't answer, the phone would keep ringing.They don't have an answering device.She asked him to install one, and he gave her a somewhat friendly answer, telling her not to be a fool.You are that answering machine.he replied. What if he calls? He probably thought that I had gone shopping in the market ahead of time. But he doesn't think so.I have to mop the floor in the morning and go to the market in the afternoon.This has been his way of life for many years, and he expects nothing to change forever.He would never forgive him for coming to 908 Westmoreland Road on his own initiative.If he does call... She thought she should turn at the next intersection, even though she was not sure which direction Chunmeng Road was going, she set off anyway.It didn't matter which direction she was going in now, because her husband usually took this I-295 when he came back from the city, and she would be found anyway.She felt as if she had been hit in the bull's-eye. She turned left, walked onto Chunmeng Road, and came to a quiet group of suburban villas.They are separated from each other by low hedges or ornamental rows of Russian olive trees, which is the local fashion.A freckled Woody Allen-like man in horn-rimmed glasses was watering the plants.He raised his head to look at her, and waved his hand slightly at her.Everyone seemed so friendly today, and she guessed it was the weather.But she has nothing to do with such fine weather.She could imagine that he might come from behind her at any time, patiently asking her questions in ways that could stimulate people's memories, and taking a picture of her every time he stopped. waved to him.You don't want him to think of you as unfriendly.Unfriendly people will always stick to certain things, so it's best to wave at him and go quietly on your way. She waved her hand and walked away quietly.The urge to pee came back and she had to hold back.As far as the eye could see, there was nothing to be seen except patches of buildings, hedgerows, weak green lawns, and Russian olive trees. She heard a car stop beside her.This time it must be him.She turned, eyes wide, and saw a rusty Cherolette crawling in the middle of the road, not much faster than walking.Behind the steering wheel sat an old man wearing a straw hat, with a decisive and menacing expression on his face.She was afraid that he would see her panic, so she lowered her head and continued on her way.In a hurry, she accidentally fell down, her kidneys were throbbing with pain, and her bladder was getting fuller and fuller. She felt that she could only hold on for a minute or two at most.People won't remember her passing by on a bright spring morning, but they will certainly remember a man with piss on his jeans.She needs to deal with this immediately. There is a chocolate-colored bungalow not far from the road, the curtains are closed.There were three newspapers on the porch, and a fourth dropped on the front steps.Rossi quickly looked around, making sure that no one saw her, so she hid herself in the lawn next to the bungalow.The backyard is empty.There was a rectangular piece of paper hanging on the handle of the aluminum alloy screen door. She ran to the door quickly and read the message on the paper: Greetings from Ann Corso from the Women's Paradise in this city!You were not at home when I came, I will come again!thanks!If you are interested in the high-quality goods of this park, please call: 555-1731.Scrawled underneath: April 17th.The note was left two days ago. Rosie looked around again, and when she saw she was flanked by hedges and Russian olive trees for cover, she quickly unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, and the hole between the back door and the low-pressure tank The hollow squatted down.It was too late to worry about being seen from the upstairs next to this villa.The thrill of her release made all worries seem unimportant. Look, you're just crazy. Yes, of course she does.But when the pressure in her bladder was relieved and a stream of urine ran through the cracks in the bricks, an incomparable joy filled her. 5 She walked for about two hours, passed many strange places along the way, and finally came to an open-air market in the west of the city.There is a pay phone between the oil painting and rug booths.When she called a taxi on the phone, she was surprised to find that she had left her city and was now in the neighboring suburb of Mapleton.No wonder there were big blisters on both heels, and she figured she must have walked more than seven miles. Fifteen minutes later, the taxi arrived.While waiting for the bus, she went shopping at the convenience store at the end of the market and bought a pair of cheap sun visors and a red chemical fiber handkerchief.She remembered Norman saying that if you wanted to divert people's attention, the best way to do it was to wear bright jewelry that would divert their attention away from your face. The driver was a fat man with unkempt hair, bloodshot eyes and a foul-smelling mouth.He was wearing a faded, bulky t-shirt with a map of South Vietnam printed on it, and a line underneath: I tasted all the tastes of hell while I was alive, and I will go to heaven when I die.The Iron Triangle, 1969.His bloodshot eyes swept across her body quickly: from the lips, then the breasts, and finally the buttocks, and soon lost interest in her. "How do you go, baby?" he asked. "Can you take me to the 'Continental Express'?" "You mean the coach station?" "Is there a long-distance bus station?" "Yes." He raised his head and looked into her eyes from the side-view mirror, "That place is in the east of the city. It's a journey of twenty yuan. It's easy. Do you have enough money?" "No problem," she said, took a deep breath, and continued, "Can you help me find a commercial bank ATM on the side of the road?" "If all the problems were so simple, how much trouble would it save!" After speaking, he put the watch back to the position of $2.5, with the word "starting price" marked on it. The number displayed on the dial jumped from $2.5 to $2.7, and the word "starting price" disappeared.At this moment, she remembered the time when her new life began.She wasn't Rose Daniels anymore.Daniels was his surname, and using his surname would bring her danger, and more importantly, she had abandoned him.She was once again Rosie McClendon, the girl who had been cast into hell at eighteen.In case she had to use her maiden name, she thought, she would still be Rosie McClendon in her heart. I'm the real Rosie.Maurice Sendak's verse and Carol King's voice floated like ghosts into her mind as the driver drove across the Lankatowne Bridge.She laughed, and Rosie was myself. Is she the real Rosie?Was Rosie exactly herself? Here and now, she thought, I'm going to find the answer to it. 6 The driver parked his car in Plaza de l'Elekus, pointing the front at the mall's row of ATMs, next to a fountain and an Art Nouveau sculpture.The ATM on the far left is light green. "Is that the thing?" he asked. "Yes, thank you very much. I'll be right back." But she delayed for a while.Unfamiliar with the huge keypads on the ATMs, she was unable to accurately enter the PIN.After she completed this step, she couldn't decide how much money she needed to withdraw.She entered 7.5, a decimal point, and 0.0. She hesitated for a while with her finger hovering over the execute key, and then retracted her hand again.If he caught her, he would no doubt beat her for going away.If she had the audacity to steal his credit card...and even dare to use it, she would have been beaten half-dead and taken to the hospital (or killed by him, a faint voice muttered in her head, actually he would have killed You, Rosie, are a complete fool if you forget this).Did she take such a big risk just for 75 yuan?Is it worth taking such a big risk for it? "No." She said softly, and stretched out her hand again.This time, she entered 3.5, 0, decimal point, 00... After that, she hesitated again.She wasn't quite sure how much was "cash payable" when the numbers in the machine showed up on the cash counter, but 350 yuan should be quite a lot of money.He will be very angry about it. She put her hand on the cancel/retry button and asked herself, what's the difference, he would be very angry anyway, there was no way out now. "Ma'am, how long do you plan to stay?" A voice came from behind, "I only have time for a cup of coffee." "Sorry!" She jumped up nervously. "No, I'm just... a little absent-minded." She pressed the execute button, and the words "Please wait" appeared on the monitor.Although the waiting time was not long, it was enough for her to appreciate a vivid picture in her mind: the machine suddenly issued a sharp alarm sound, accompanied by a blunt machine voice: "This woman is a thief! This woman is a thief! " There was no sound of catching the thief on the monitor. On the contrary, it showed words such as thank you for coming and wishing her a happy day, and then spit out seventeen 20-yuan and one 10-yuan banknotes.Rossi avoided the gaze of the young man behind him, gave him a nervous smile, and quickly returned to the car. 7 The long-distance bus terminal is a low, spacious building painted in the usual primary color of sandstone.There are all kinds of cars here, not only Continental Express, but also haul trucks, American Trailblazers.On the Eastern Main Line, a locomotive with its nose deeply embedded in the loading dock wraps around the terminus.罗西觉得它们就像是黄色的小胖猪在丑陋的妈妈身边吃奶。 她站在入口处往里面张望。长途汽车站不像她所想象的那样拥挤和可怕。十四年以来，她除了丈夫以及他偶尔带回家吃饭的同事以外，几乎没有见到过任何人。她由此而得上了广场恐怖症。因为现在只过了半个星期，节假日距现在也十分遥远，因此这里显得不那么拥挤。即使如此，她猜想至少也有好几百人，他们在漫无目的地走动着，坐在老式的高背长凳上，玩着游戏机，喝着盒装咖啡，或者排队买票。一个小孩吊在妈妈的胳膊上，脑袋向后仰着，他那副嚎啕大哭的样子酷似用圆木雕刻在天花板上的迷途羔羊。扩音器像西西里亚·蒂米尔圣经中的壮丽史诗般发出回声，宣告着目的地：宾夕法尼亚的伊利，田纳西的纳士威尔，密西西比的杰克逊，佛罗里达的迈阿密，科罗拉多的丹佛。 “嗨，这位女士，”一个疲倦的声音说，“能帮我几个钱吗？” 她回头看见一位面色苍白的年轻人，长着一头乱糟糟的黑发，坐在入口处旁边，怀里抱着一块木板，上面写着：无家可归，患有艾滋病，请求帮助。 “你有零钱吗？能帮帮我吗？等我死后，你仍然能在撒兰纳克湖上开你的快艇。怎么样，帮我一把好吗？” 突然间，她脑袋一阵眩晕，精神和心理都处于超载的边缘。长途汽车站在她眼前变得像一座教堂那么大，人们在通道里走来走去，像海滩上可怕的潮汐运动。一个脖子上长满赘肉的男人低着头，在地板上拖动着一只肮脏不堪的旅行包，从她身边艰难地走过。一只米老鼠玩具从旅行包上面露出脑袋，朝她温和地笑着。扩音器用上帝般的声音在宣布着，去奥马哈的直达快车将在二十分钟后从17号站台出发。 I can't do that.她突然想到。我不能生活在这种世界里。这并不像找一只茶叶袋或者地板刷那么简单。尽管他在那扇门里面殴打了我，可是那扇门毕竟把一切混乱和疯狂都关在了外面。可是我再也回不到那扇门里去了。 她心头突然出现了童年时代主日学校课堂里的生动形象。亚当和夏娃的身上裹着用来遮羞的树叶，脸上带着明显的羞愧和痛苦，在铺满石子的小路上，赤脚走向既苦难重重又枯燥乏味的未来，他们的身后是鲜花盛开的伊甸园。一位长翅膀的天使站在紧闭的大门前，手上高举着一把闪着寒光的利剑。 “你竟然敢这么想！”她突然大喊了一声。坐在门廊上的那个男人重重地弹了起来，差点儿摔掉手上的木板。“你竟敢如此！” “上帝，请原谅！”他说，转着眼珠，“如果你真想这样说的话，那就请继续说好了！” “不，我……这不关你的事，是关于我自己的……” 她试图对这个乞丐解释自己。她知道自己为什么会有这样荒谬可笑的举止。她把一直捏在手心的两美元零钱扔进那年轻人身边的烟盒中，便匆忙消失在长途汽车站里。 8 另一位长着英俊的有些不大可靠的面容，留着经过精心修剪的小胡子的年轻人坐在长途汽车站后边，他正在玩一种她在电视上见过的游戏。那是一种用三张墨西哥纸牌玩的赌博游戏。 “女士，来找一找黑桃A好吗？”他向她发出了邀请。 一只拳头在她的脑海里划动着。她看见在第三只手指上戴着戒指，上面刻着服务，忠诚，公众利益。 “不，谢谢。我没有兴趣。”她说。 他没有对她构成威胁。那个坐在门口、拿着牌子、没人知道他到底有没有艾滋病的年轻人不是她的问题所在。那个脖子上长着赘肉。米老鼠从旅行包里探出头来的男人也不会给她带来麻烦。她最严重的问题是她的姓名罗丝·丹尼尔斯——纠正一下，是罗西·麦克兰登。这才是惟一令她头疼的问题。 她走人中间的通道，在一只垃圾筒前停了下来。绿色垃圾筒的圆形外壳上刻着一句简短的警句：不要乱扔！她打开皮包，取出信用卡，凝视了一会儿，然后将它塞进了垃圾箱顶部的活动盖板里面。她真舍不得扔掉它，但是她毕竟得到了解脱。如果她继续带着这张卡，它会变成一种无法抗拒的强烈诱惑。诺曼并不是一个愚蠢的家伙。他虽然非常野蛮，但他绝对不傻。他会沿着她留下的任何一点线索追踪下去的。这一点她必须牢记心头。 她深深地吸进了一口气，屏住呼吸，过了一两秒钟以后才吐了出来。她没有过多地考虑，便走到了位于中心地带的出入站监视器附近。其实她只须回头看一眼，就会发现留小胡子的年轻人已经在垃圾筒里翻了起来。他看见那位戴着遮阳镜，系着红色方巾的女人不知扔掉了什么东西，她刚一离开垃圾筒，他就过去寻找起来。那东西看上去很像是一张信用卡，不过也许不是，你得仔细地观察一下，这种事一般是不能乱猜的。有时人们还真能撞上好运，只是有时吗？见鬼，这种事经常发生。他们不能毫无来由地送它一个幸运乐园的雅号。 9 西部地区的第二大城市离这儿只有250英里远，她感觉到距离仍不够远。她决定选择最大的城市，也就是距此550英里远的那座城市。和这座城市一样，它也是一座湖滨城市，不过它位于下一个时区内。大陆快运每隔半小时有一班车开往那座城市。她来到票务窗口，排在队尾。她的心脏在胸腔里猛烈地跳动，喉咙眼里干燥得好像要冒火。她前边那位先生买完票离开了窗口，这时她用手背按住嘴唇，把打嗝迟到嘴里的咖啡强压了下去。 两个名字绝对都不能使用，她暗暗地提醒自己。如果非要报上姓名的话，你就得另编一个。 “请问您需要什么，夫人？”售票员从他那副不太稳定地架在鼻尖上面的眼镜里看着她，问道。 “安吉拉·弗莱特。”这是她最要好的初中室友的姓名，也是这一生中所交的最后一位真正的朋友。在奥布莱威利中学，罗西曾和一位男孩稳定地交往过一段时间，但毕业一个星期后他却与她的室友结了婚，两人从此分手了。 “夫人，请再说一遍好吗？” 她意识到刚才说的是人名，而不是地名。This is so weird. 这家伙一定是在看我的手腕和脖子，想知道我的衣服上有没有犯人的标记。 她一定是说出了口，因为她感到自己的脸刷地一下变红了。她顿时心慌意乱，不知所措。她努力理清了自己的头脑，恢复了常态。 “对不起。”她说。她有一种不祥的预兆：无论未来会怎样，这个简短而悲哀的道歉短语就像一只绑在迷途小狗尾巴上的易拉罐一样，永远跟随着她。十四年来，在她和整个世界之间隔着一道紧闭的门，现在她却感觉到自己好像一只受惊的老鼠，错误地选在厨房的隔板下面建窝。 售票员仍在看着她，他的眼睛在滑稽可笑的眼镜下面显得极不耐烦。“夫人，你到底买不买票？” “是的，我买。我想要一张十一点零五分的汽车票。这辆车还有座位吗？” “大约还有四十个左右。单程还是往返？” “单程。”她感到自己的脸上又是一阵燥热。你简直是无法无天了。她对自己表示理解。她努力地笑了笑，用更大的声音重复了一遍：“请给我单程票。” “一共是59元70美分。”他说。她由于松了口气，膝盖变得软弱无力。她本来以为票价很贵，会花掉她身上所有的钱。 "Thank you," she said.他一定听出了她话音里的真诚和感激之情。因为他将表格拿过去时冲她笑了笑，不耐烦和警觉的表情已经在他的眼睛里消失不见了。 “很乐意为你效劳。”他说，“夫人，请报一下携带的行李。” “我……一件行李都没有。”她说完以后，突然不敢再看他的眼睛。她使劲儿地想了想，希望能编出一个理由。他肯定会怀疑她，一个单身女人，除了一只皮包什么行李都不带，独自一人长途跋涉前往一座遥远的城市。但是她没想出任何理由。还好，那人并没有怀疑她，甚至对她没有任何一点好奇心。他只是点了点头，便开始填写起来。她突然有了一种不愉快的感觉：在长途汽车站这种地方她并不能算是一个陌生的客人。这些人每天都见到像她这样的女人：藏在太阳镜后面，买一张去另一个时区的车票，有时她们在半路上会忘记自己是谁，要做什么事，为什么要这样做。 10 汽车准时开出了长途汽车站，罗西总算彻底松了一口气。汽车向左转弯，又一次越过特兰卡特桥，上了I－78号公路，直奔西部地区。汽车穿过了两个山口，当它开到最后一个山口时，她看见一座三角形的玻璃建筑，那是新盖的警察总部。她突然想到，她丈夫可能就坐在其中一面大窗户里边，而且可能在看着这辆巨大的、像甲壳虫般闪闪发光的长途汽车在州际公路上穿行。她闭上双眼，数到一百。当她再次睁开眼睛时，那座大楼已经消失了。她希望它永远消失掉。 她的座位在车厢后三分之一处，柴油机在离她不远的地方嗡嗡地响个不停。她再一次闭上了眼睛，把脸靠在车窗上。她怎么也睡不着，过度的安全感使她难以入睡，不过终于可以休息一下了。这一切到底是怎么发生的，她直到现在还有些迷惑不解。与其说她改变了生活，不如说突然爆发了一场心脏病。仅仅是改变吗？这一说法未免太婉转了。她并非只是改变了它，实际上她是彻底根除了它，就像从花盆里拔掉了一株紫罗兰那样，把它扔了出去。她的生活的确改变了。不行，她还是无法入睡，现在无论如何办不到。 她模模糊糊地想着，渐渐进入了一种似睡非睡的状态、她觉得自己像一只气泡般慢慢地飘浮了起来，隐隐约约听见柴油机和车胎在路面上颠簸和震动的声音，四五排座位前有一个孩子在问他的妈妈，车什么时候才能开到诺玛姨妈家。她感觉到心中的花朵正在开放。只有当你游离在两地之间时，你心中的花朵才会开放。 我是真正的罗西…… 卡罗尔金的嗓音随着呆板而怪异的钢琴伴奏音乐唱出了莫里斯·森达克的歌曲，歌声从车厢远处飘过来。 罗西就是我自己…… 我该睡一觉，她想。我真的应该好好地睡上一觉。这该有多奇妙！ 你们难道不相信……我不是一个普通人…… 她已经离开了那个灰色通道，进入了一个光线幽暗的开放空间。她的鼻子和整个脑袋里都充满了夏天的气味，它是那么甜蜜，又是那样的强烈，她简直要被它陶醉了。其中味道最浓的要数忍冬草的花絮。她听见了蟋蟀的歌声。她抬起头，看着如水的月光洒满了整个世界，草地表面的一层薄雾也变成了一片白茫茫的雾海。 我是真正的罗西……罗西就是我自己…… 她举起手，用动人的手指在窗玻璃上画着月亮的轮廓。夜风吹拂着她裸露的手臂，她感到自己的心脏由于兴奋而扩张，继而又因为恐惧而紧缩着。这时，她闻到了一股昏沉沉的、蛮荒的味道，似乎有个育面獠牙的动物就藏在香气沁人的草丛之中。 罗丝，到这儿来，宝贝儿。我想跟你挨近点儿谈谈。 她转过脸，看见他的拳头从黑暗中向她打过来。冰冷的月光洒在那只警校指环表面突出的字母上。她看见他的嘴上挂着厌恶的表情，那模样活像是在冷笑。她哆嗦着醒来，感到有点儿透不过气了。刚才她一定是在重重地呼吸，因为她身旁的窗户上已经布满了水蒸气，窗外的景色几乎完全看不见了。她用手指在玻璃上划出了一道痕迹，透过它看见了郊区加油站和快餐店，后边是一片开阔地带。 我已经离开他了，她想。无论发生了什么事，反正我已经离开了。即使睡在走廊里或者桥底下也没有什么关系，我终于离开了他。他永远别想再殴打我了。 但她发现连她自己都不太相信。他一定被她激怒了，他会找到她的。对此她毫无疑问。 他怎么可能找到我呢？我已经消除了所有的痕迹，我甚至连同室好友的名字都没有留给售票员。我扔掉了信用卡，消灭掉最有可能引起麻烦的痕迹。他怎么可能找到我呢！ 准确地说，她并不清楚今后的事情将会怎样发展。既然追踪逃犯是他的职业，她就必须格外小心。 我是真正的罗西……罗西正是我自己…… 这首歌无论从正面听还是从反面听都说得通。她从来不觉得自己是个普通的人。她强烈地感到自己是茫茫大海上一条遇难船只的残骸。噩梦将醒时产生的恐惧感，；以及获得自由所带来的兴奋和震撼虽然不那么强烈，却仍然在影响着她。她毕竟自由了。 她斜靠在高高的椅背上，看着快餐店和杂货店逐渐落在了后面。车窗外已经是一片乡村景色了，到处都是新开发的田野和林地，它们给惟独四月才会有的一望无际的云层映上了一袭葱翠的绿色。她望着绵延的云朵。双手轻松地插在袖子里，让这辆泛着银光的大型汽车载着她走向前方的未知世界。