Chapter 3 Chapter 2 Kind Strangers
1
The new life has just begun for one day, and she has already experienced several ups and downs.The worst of them all was this one.Even so, she has absolutely no regrets.
However, she felt a wave of panic.
The car arrived at its destination at three o'clock in the morning.After Rossi got off the bus, she stood at the gate of platform 62, holding her hands tightly on the leather bag, observing the situation inside.The bustling stream of people walked up and down in this huge building in an endless stream.Many people are dragging their suitcases and carrying cardboard boxes on their shoulders in a hurry, others have their hands around their necks, some put their girlfriends shoulders or boyfriends around their waists, walking in a leisurely manner. Stroll inside the platform.At this time, a gentleman ran towards a woman who had just got out of the car with a child, picked her up vigorously, and spun around on the spot.The woman's feet were off the ground, and she was struggling in his arms with excitement and fear, trying to get into the crowd, and at the same time she let out piercing screams, which could be heard in the crowded and chaotic coach station. It was like someone dropped a bomb.
Not far from Rosie was a row of video game consoles, and there sat a group of kids in baseball caps pulled back, not caring that it was late at night. "Play again! Space Academy! Play again! Space Academy!"
She walked slowly into the coach station, past children playing video games.She knew it was too dark to be outside at this hour and risk being raped or murdered and stuffed into the nearest trash can.She looked around and saw two policemen coming down the escalator, one of them twirling his baton, the other with a humorless grin.The sight reminded her of the man she had thrown 800 miles away.He grinned a lot, too, but there was never a hint of it in his ever-rolling eyes.
What would she have done if the police were wandering around the bus station trying to drive away people like herself who didn't have a ticket?
If such a thing did happen, she would be able to handle it.She looked away from the escalator and walked towards a booth.There are several rows of hard plastic chairs with armrests, and a dozen tourists sit there watching the coin-operated TV on the armrests.Rosie's eyes followed the two policemen, and she was relieved when she saw them walk out of the platform.The sun will be out in two or three hours at the most, and then they will throw her out.Before that, she didn't want to go anywhere, she just wanted to stay here.There are lights, and there are people. _ She sat down in a TV armchair.Two seats away, a girl in a faded cotton shirt and a backpack is dozing off;Her eyes fluttered under lids covered in purple eyeshadow, and silvery saliva dangled from beneath her lips.On the back of her right hand are tattooed in blue print: I love my sweetheart.Rosie thought, Baby, where is your sweetheart?She looked at the blank screen, then at the red timepiece on the wall not far away, on which was written a line of small, scrawled words: Let me infect you with AIDS.She quickly turned her eyes away, lest she would burn her retina if she looked at those words for too long.A clock on the far wall pointed to sixteen past three in the morning.
It will be light in two or three hours, and then I can get out of here, she thought, waiting for the time to tick away.
2
She ate a cheeseburger and drank a glass of lemonade the night before on a short car break just after six o'clock, and hadn't eaten anything since, feeling terrified.She sat in the TV armchair until the clock hit four when she finally decided to eat something.On the way to the bar near the ticket office, she found many people lying on the ground, sleeping soundly with bulging grocery bags in their arms.
As Rosie drank coffee and juice and ate, she thought that she had no need to worry about being kicked out by the police.Like her, these people sleeping on the ground were not travelers who changed trains, but some homeless people sleeping on the streets.Rosie felt sorry for them, but also secretly relieved that if she really had nowhere to go tomorrow night, she knew where to spend the night.
If he came here, where would he go to find himself?How will you find her?
This question seems so stupid.He couldn't find her, absolutely couldn't find her.But she still felt two cold fingers running along her spine.
The food made her strong and awake, and she suddenly felt much better.She sipped the coffee slowly, and did not settle the bill until the male waiter showed an undisguised impatient expression on his face, and stood up slowly.On the way back, she saw a small cubicle not far from the car rental station. On the door hung a blue and white circular sign with a circle of words: Travel Assistance.I just happen to be the traveler who needs people's rescue the most by far.she thought without the slightest sense of humor.
She walked up to the flashing marker lights.In the small cubicle sat a middle-aged man with thinning hair and a pair of horn-rimmed glasses on his nose. He was reading a newspaper intently with his head down.She took two steps inside and stopped again.Really want to go in?God, what did you say to him when you went in?Did she say that she left her husband with nothing but her clothes, a purse, and a credit card?
Could it not be said that her reason had slapped her hard and mercilessly?Since you have the courage to leave him, why don't you have the courage to accept this fact?
She knew it was hard to talk to a stranger about everything that was going on in her life at four o'clock in the morning.She wasn't sure whether to talk to him or not.Most likely he'd tell her to go away, telling her that his job was to help passengers find lost tickets, broadcast missing persons notices, and so on.
She resolutely walked to the travel assistance office.She knew she had to speak to the stranger with the few wisps of hair and the horn-rimmed glasses, and she did so out of sheer common sense; she really had no choice but to talk to him up.In the coming days, she will probably need to tell more people that she has lived in a tightly closed room for fourteen years, and now she has finally left her husband, only to find that she can't even have any kind of damn life. Neither the skills nor the skills to make a living are available. She needs people's rescue and the kind help of strangers.
All this is not my fault, is it?she thinks.She was shocked by how calm she was.
She walked into the cubicle, put the leather bag on the counter in a panic, held it tightly with her hands, and looked at the man wearing horny glasses with his head bowed and intent on reading the newspaper with fear and hope.Through his thinning hair, she could see a few freckles on his head, and she waited for him to look up.Looking around from the corner of her eye, she saw two other people sleeping on the floor, and she was sure that what happened to them was the same as mine.homeless.The gentleman was evidently fascinated by the newspaper.It was a Greek or Russian newspaper.He turned a page carefully, and there was a photo of football players fighting fiercely.He frowned.
"Excuse me, may I excuse you?" she whispered, and the man looked up.
I hope his eyes are kind, she thought suddenly.Even if he can't be of much help, I wish he could look at me, at this woman with nothing else to cling to but an old leather bag.
He finally raised his head, and his eyes were really kind.Behind those thick lenses were a pair of dim, hazy but benevolent eyes.
"Excuse me, can I ask for help?" she asked.
3
A volunteer worker from the Travel Assistance Service said his name was Peter Slovik.He listened intently to her story.She told him everything in as much detail as she could.She had an idea that if you insisted on maintaining your pride and self-esteem, you wouldn't be able to get kind help from people.The only thing she couldn't tell him was that she was alone, unprepared for the whole world, and she didn't know how to make him fully understand the dire situation she was in.Only eighteen hours ago, she knew the world only from television programs and the newspapers her husband brought home.
"I understand that you ran away from home on impulse," said Mr. Slovik. "Didn't you think a little bit about what you were going to do and where you were going to live while you were in the car?"
"I thought I'd find a girls' hotel," she said. "Is there a place like this?"
"Yes, there are at least three more, as far as I know, but you can't even afford the cheapest of them. Those hotels are for rich people, who sometimes come to town for a week, and visit relatives. Friends, shopping at the same time, staying in that kind of women's hotel."
"So," she said, "how's the fraternity?"
Shaking his head, Mr. Slovik said: "It was closed back in 1990 because of the drug epidemic."
She felt a panic, thinking of the people who slept on the ground with their grocery bags in their arms.This sort of thing is all too common.
"Is there anything you can do?"
He pressed his lower lip with a ballpoint pen, and stared at her with piercing eyes on his dull face.After all, he had looked at her, spoken to her, and hadn't let her go.Of course, she thought, he didn't make me bend down so he could get closer and talk to me.
Mr Slovik seems to have come to a conclusion.He unbuttoned his polyester jacket, pulled a business card from his inside pocket, carefully wrote his address in printed letters on the side with his name and the Travel Aid logo on it, then flipped to the blank side and printed it in ridiculously large letters. Signed his name.His signature reminded her of what her high school history teacher had said in class that John Hancock had signed the Declaration of Independence in large letters so that King George could see what was written on it without glasses.
"Can you read the address I wrote?" he said, handing her his card.
"Yes," she said, "251 Dooham Street."
"Okay. Put this business card in your purse so you don't lose it. People will ask you for it when you get there. This place I'm taking you to is called the Sisters' House and it's a refuge for abused women So. It’s a very unique place. From your experience, you deserve to live there.”
"How long can I live there?"
He shrugged. "It depends on the circumstances of the sisters' home."
This is my reality, she thought, and I'm just one of many concrete situations.
He seemed to read her mind because he smiled.The smile revealed his not-so-cute, but frankly white teeth.He patted her hand lightly, looking a little unnatural and unsure. "Ms. McLandon, if it is true that your husband abused you as you say, then your situation has completely changed the moment you ran away from home."
"Yes, I think so too. Even if the attempt fails, there is no way out."
He seemed taken aback: "Oh, you definitely won't have nowhere to go."
"Anything can happen." She nodded at two homeless men sleeping on the floor, one of whom had a dirty orange hat covering his face from the pitiless light.
Slovik looked at them, then turned his head again. "You're not going to be in their shoes," he repeated.This time it sounded quite convincing. "The bus to the city is right outside the gate, and you can see it by turning left when you go out. You take the car with the orange line and wait to get on the bus at the orange fence. Are you clear?"
"Clear."
"The fare is one yuan, and the driver is unwilling to change, so it is best to prepare some change."
"I've got a bunch of change."
"Great. Get off at the intersection between Debow and Etter Roads, then walk two blocks along Etter Road...maybe three, I can't remember. Go to Doohan Street and turn left, Go about four short blocks, and you can see a large white building. It looks old and maybe it's being painted. Do you remember what I said?"
"can."
"One more thing, you stay here now, don't go anywhere before dawn, and don't wait outside for a bus to the city."
"I'm not going anywhere," she said.
4
She fell asleep on the Continental Express for about two or three hours, and when the bus reached the terminal and she finally stepped out of the car with the orange lines, she was immediately lost.Rosie wasn't surprised at all.She realized later that she must have turned in the wrong direction on the Etter Road, but things turned out to be much worse than she expected, and she had almost been turning around in this strange city for more than three hours.She walked block after block without finding Dooham Street.Her feet were hurting, her back was throbbing, and she had a splitting headache.Of course Mr. Slovik was not to be found here, and people either didn't look at her at all or looked suspiciously at her.Even looked at her with extreme contempt.
Not long after getting off the car, she passed a dirty and mysterious place called Pooh's Bar, where the curtains were closed, the beer advertisement lights hadn't been turned on yet, and there was a fence door outside the door.When she came back twenty minutes later (the houses here looked exactly the same, and she didn't realize she'd walked down the road twice until she saw the fence), the curtains were still closed, but the beer ad lights were on , The fence gate also opened.A man in eyeglasses was standing on the porch with a half bottle of beer in his hand.She looked at her watch, it was not half past six in the morning.
Rosie looked down at him out of the corner of her eye, clutched the purse under her arm tightly, and quickened her pace.She figured the man on the porch knew the way to Dooham Street, but she wasn't going to ask him.He looked like the kind of guy who likes to sit next to a woman and talk.
"Hi, baby, hi, baby!" the man's voice sounded like a robot as she walked past Pooh's Bar.Although she didn't want to look at him, she still couldn't help giving him a look of terror.His hairline was low, his pale skin had a blemish that looked like a scar, and his crimson Crosby beard was smeared with beer foam. "Hey babe go on fuck you're passable pretty good actually pretty what do you think hey bitch what do you think?"
She tried to keep an even pace as she passed him, bowing her head deeply like a Muslim woman going to the market, forcing herself not to draw his attention in any way, never let him follow own.
"Hey baby let all four of us get down what do you think let's lay down and fuck that bitch keep doing it."
After turning the corner, she breathed a long sigh of relief, calming down the heart that was beating violently due to panic.
It was only then that she began to feel a little homesick, and now there was a tinge of nostalgia mingled with the man in the bar and her fear of being lost.I really don't understand why the houses here look so similar?She had never felt so alone, or felt so sure that things were getting worse.She can't seem to escape this nightmare anymore, maybe this is just a prelude to her unhappy life.She even started imagining that there had never been a high street of strong men, and that the guy at Travel Assistance, Slovik, who looked like a douchebag, was really just a sadist who was good at making fun of lost people and making them I can't even find my way.
When her watch reached half past eight, the scorching sun was already high in the sky.The temperature is obviously too hot for this season.She approached a fat woman in house clothes who was standing on the driveway, loading empty garbage cans onto the trailer with slow, mechanical movements.
Rossi took off his sunglasses: "Sorry to bother you."
The woman turned around immediately: "What's the matter?"
"I'm looking for 251 Dooham Street," said Rossi, "a place called The Sisters' House. I have the address, but I think-"
"What, the Gay Welfare Society? You're asking the wrong person, girl. I'm not a bit interested in this kind of shit. Get out of the way." With that, she turned back to the trailer, slowly, ritualistically. She continued to push the rattling garbage cans, and her hips swayed gently under the home clothes with the movements of her body.Every time she took a step, she glanced down at the sidewalk. "Didn't you hear? Get out of here before I call the police."
That last sound made her feel like someone had pinched a sensitive spot.Rosie puts on her sunglasses and walks away in a hurry.Looking for the police?Thanks, don't worry about it.She doesn't need any contact with the police.Rosie felt much better when she was some distance away from the fat woman.At least she's now figured out that the Sisters' House actually exists, and some call it the Gay Welfare Society, which is a first step in the right direction.
She walked another two blocks to a home retailer with a bicycle ring and a sign that read Microwave Meatloaf.She went in and got a steaming meatloaf that reminded her of her mom.She asked the old man behind the counter how to get to Durham Street. "
"You go far"
"Ah, how far is it?"
"About two miles. You come with me."
He put his thin hands on her shoulders and led her to the door. "A block away, there's a busy intersection. That's DePauw Avenue."
"Oh, really?" She wasn't sure if she wanted to cry or laugh.
"Really, ma'am. Did you see that closed movie theater?"
"Saw"
"You turn right from there to get to Dooham Street. It's at least sixteen or eighteen blocks. That's enough. You'd better take a car."
"I guess so," Rosie said, though she knew she couldn't drive.She had run out of change and would cry if the driver took too long to find her a pile of change.
She was in a state of fatigue and confusion, unaware that the old man in front of her would have been happy to give her a dollar in change.
"Where are you going now?"
"Ait Road."
He was irritated: "Ma'am! You know how to get there. You came to ask me!"
"I really don't know how to go," she said, almost tearing up, even though there was not much malice in the old man's voice.
"I don't know anything! I've been spinning for hours, I'm so tired, and
"Okay, that's it. Don't make trouble for yourself. It's going to be all right. Get off at the Ait Road stop, and Durham Street is two or three blocks away. It's a very simple thing. about it. Do you know the house number?"
She nodded.
"Well, you see, the problem is solved."
"Thank you."
With his bony hands, he took out a crumpled but clean handkerchief from the back pocket of his trousers, and handed it to her. "Wipe the tears off your face," he said. "You really look like a dam has failed."
5
She strolled down DePauw Avenue, rarely noticing the buzzing cars, and every time she walked a block or two past the bus station, she would sit on a bench at the station to rest for a while.Although the headache caused by the fear of getting lost has disappeared, the pain in the feet and back has increased.It took her an hour to walk to Eite Avenue, and just as she turned to the right, she encountered a pregnant woman.She asked if it was possible to get to Durham Street from this road.
"Go away," said the young pregnant woman, with an angry look on her face, forcing Rosie to take two steps back.
"I'm sorry," Rossi said.
"I'm sorry, what's the matter, who told you to talk to me? I want to know who you are! Go away!" She pushed Rosie so hard that she almost fell over.She felt a look of astonishment and stupidity on her face.It wasn't until she was far away that Rosie turned and continued on her way.
6
She walked more and more slowly on the road of Aite.There are small shops on both sides of the street, as well as clean houses, flower houses and stationery stores, and flowers are blooming on the sidewalks.She was exhausted to the extreme, and she didn't know how much longer she could hold on.When she saw Dooham Avenue, she felt elated.But this joy only lasted a few seconds.Mr. Slovik said to turn here, but she couldn't remember at all whether he said turn left or right. She tried to turn right and found that the house numbers on the right started from 450 and went up. Increase.
"Wrong way," she muttered, turned around again, and walked in the other direction.Ten minutes later, she was already standing in front of a tall white building.It really needs a lick of paint.The building is three storeys high and fronts a large, well-maintained lawn.The curtains were closed, and there were more than a dozen rattan chairs in the corridor, but there was no one in sight.There is no sign of any sisters house.But the steps leading to the corridor to the left have number 251 written on it.She hung the purse on her shoulder and walked slowly up the steps along the stone path.
They'll send you away, a voice whispered to her.If you want to get back to the bus station as quickly as possible, you have to make a mark on each section of the road.
A piece of electrical tape was taped to the doorbell, and the keyhole was stuffed with wire.On the left side of the gate is a brand-new electronic lock, and there are a few words written on the internal transponder: visitors, please press this switch.
Rosie flipped the transponder switch.All morning, she had rehearsed countless times on the way here, what to say when she got there, how to introduce herself.But when she really stood here, her mind became empty.She could only wait quietly after pressing the switch, the time was slow and solemn as if standing still.Just when she stretched out her hand to press it again, a woman's weak and indifferent voice came from the transponder.
"Can I help you?"
The man with the black and red Crosby mustache in Pooh's Bar terrified her, a pregnant woman at the intersection surprised her, but no one could make her cry.But the sound from the building brought tears to her eyes, and she could no longer hold back her emotions.
"I think so," Rosie said, wiping tears with her free hand. "Excuse me, I don't have a place to go in this city, and I don't know anyone. But I have to find a place to stay. If I can't stay here, can I come in for a while, just a glass of water and a breather also?"
There was a silence.When Rosie reached out again to press the transponder, the woman told who had introduced her.
"It's a Mr. David Slovik from Travel Assistance at the Coach Station." She thought, then shook her head. "No, I misremembered. It was Peter. His name was Peter, not David."
"Do you have his card?" the faint voice asked.
"Have."
"Please show me."
She opened the purse and groped inside, feeling as if a whole century had passed.Her eyes began to sore again, and her vision became blurred.She finally found the business card, which was actually buried under a pack of tissues.
"I found it," she said, "do I need to plug it into the display slot?"
"No," said the voice, "you have a video camera over your head."
She looked up and was stunned.There was indeed a video camera over the door, watching her down with round black eyes.
"Please put the reverse side of the business card on the camera, don't misplace it."
She did as she was told, she thought, no wonder Slovik signed it in such large letters.
"No problem, I will open the door for you now."
"Thank you," Rosie said, wiping away tears with a Kleenex.But nothing works.She cried harder than ever, and the tears couldn't stop flowing out.
7
That night, when Norman Daniels lay on the sofa in the living room, staring straight at the ceiling, he was already thinking about how to find the bad woman.I need to make a sudden move, he thought, a small one will suffice.His wife went to see Anna Stevenson.
Until now.Rosie felt a strange but delightful calm, a calm that comes only in familiar dreams.She dubiously felt that she was in a dream.
She had a late breakfast, or early lunch as it should be called, and was taken downstairs to a bedroom, where she fell asleep for more than six hours.Before going to Anna's study, she ate another meal of roast chicken and mashed potatoes and peas.She wolfed it down, feeling a little guilty because she couldn't shake the hallucination of being in a dream and eating food that she could never get enough of.She finished the meal with a glass of jelly with pulp.She felt that the other women at the table were watching her with curious, benevolent eyes.Although they had been talking, Rosie could not understand what they were talking about.When she heard someone mention the Indigo Girls, she suddenly remembered seeing the chorus at Austin Co., waiting for Norman to come home.
While she was eating the jelly dessert, one woman started playing a Little Richards while the other two jazzed their hips around.There was a burst of applause and laughter in the restaurant.Rosie watched uninterestedly, wondering if they were a bunch of gays after all.After dinner, when Rosie offered to help them clear the table, she was turned down.
"Come on, you don't have to do it," one of the women said.Her name, Rosie thought, might be Consuelo, and she had an ugly scar between her left eye and her cheek. "Anna wants to meet you."
"Who is Anna?"
"Anna Stevenson," Consuelo said, leading Rosie into a small living room off the kitchen. "She's our boss."
"What does she look like?"
"You'll know in a while." Consuelo opened a room converted from a storage room and stopped outside the door.
In the center of the room stood the most disorganized table Rosie had ever seen.Behind the table sits a slightly pudgy woman of indisputable beauty, with short white hair carefully combed, wearing a serious short coat and a black sleeveless jumper.Rosie approached the table timidly, and she was almost sure she had something to say to her: Now that you've eaten and slept, it's time to get back on the street.She told herself that if she really said that, don't argue with her, and don't ask her to take her in. After all, this is their place. At least she has eaten two full meals, and she won't be in the bus station. Overnight on the ground.She had enough money to find a cheap hotel or motel for a few nights.Things may be even worse in the future.
She reminded herself that everything was going to be this way.But the woman's breezy manner and those deep blue eyes, eyes that had seen thousands of women like Rosie over the years, still posed a threat to her.
"Sit down, please," Anna invited her, and when Rosie took the only available chair, Anna introduced herself and asked her name.
"I think my name should be Rosie Daniels, but I've reverted to my maiden name. Rosie McClendon. Maybe it's not legal, but I don't want my husband's last name ever again. He beat Me, so I left him." She realized that her words would give the impression that as soon as he hit her, she left. "We have been married for many years, but I have never had the courage to leave him."
"How long has this happened?"
"Fourteen years." Rosie found herself afraid to meet Anna Stevenson's aggressive dark blue eyes.She looked down at her hands, clasped in sleeves, the nails gleaming white.
Now, she thought, she should ask me why it took me so long to wake up.Maybe she'll think I'm sick of being beaten, and she's sure to think so even if she doesn't ask.
The woman didn't ask her why, just how long she had been away.
She found that the question required some thought.She's not on standard time right now.The long drive in the car and the noon sleep had disrupted her inner concept of time.She calculated silently for a while, and replied, "About thirty-six hours."
"Yeah." Rosie kept wishing that Anna would hand her the form to fill out, or that she would fill it out for her.She looked at her inquisitively across the cluttered tabletop, feeling restless. "Talk to me now and tell me everything."
Rosie took a deep breath and started with the blood on the bed sheet.She didn't want to give Anna the impression that she was lazy or out of her mind, leaving her husband just because she couldn't be bothered to change the sheets.She was very scared, not knowing what kind of thoughts she would make people think.She couldn't explain the feeling that drop of blood caused in her.Then anger crept into her heart quietly like an old friend.She just said flatly that she had rocked the rocking chair so hard she almost broke it.
"Tell me, what did you do after you decided to run away?"
Rosie told her about the credit card, and she was pretty sure Norman had a hunch about everything she did, so he would call or go home.She told her how much money she had withdrawn with her credit card, and how she ended up in this city far away from Norman.She talked on and on, pausing a few times to think about what to say next, and she could hardly believe what she had done.She went on and on about how she got lost that morning, and then she ended the conversation and handed Peter Slovik his card.Anna only glanced at it before returning it to her.
"Do you know Mr. Slovik well?" asked Rossi.
Anna smiled.From Rosie's point of view, the question displeased her. "Oh, yes, he's a friend of mine, a friend of many years, indeed. He's a friend of your kind, too."
"Anyway, I'm finally here," Rossi said. "I don't know what to do next, but at least I've done so much."
A sly smile appeared on the corner of Anna Stevenson's mouth. "It was good, and it did a great job."
With all her courage nearly spent in the past thirty-six hours, she gathered the last of her courage and asked if she could spend the night at the sisters' house.
"If you really need, you can stay here for more than one night." Anna answered her, "Strictly speaking, this is a shelter, a temporary habitat donated by a private house. You can stay for eight weeks, and this period is also possible." It can be changed at any time. The system of the sisters' home is very flexible." She showed off subconsciously.
"Excuse me, did you say eight weeks?"
Wipe your ears, young lady, I'm talking eight days.Do you think we'll let someone like you live here for eight weeks?Be smart!
Anna didn't say that.She nodded: "Of course, only a very small number of people need to live here for so long, which is what we are proud of. Besides, you have to pay, and the fee is very reasonable." She smiled slyly again, "You should know, The accommodation is mediocre, most of the upstairs rooms have been converted into dormitories. There are thirty beds, one of which happens to be vacant, so it is possible for you to stay. You are temporarily staying in the room of a resident consultant today. We have a total of three consultants.
"An approval from someone?" Rosie whispered. "Should I report my name to the committee?"
"I'm the committee," Anna replied. "My parents founded the sisters' home, so I decide who stays."
"That's great," Rosie said softly.
"Indeed." Anna rummaged on the table, moved some files, and finally found what she was looking for behind the computer.She pointed at Rossi the letter paper with the words "Sisters' House" on it: "Did you see it? Please read it and sign it. The content is that you agree to pay 16 dollars a day for accommodation. This is a commitment. I hope You can pay half the fee upfront."
"Yes, I have some money. I don't know how to thank you, Mrs. Stevenson."
"To the committee, I am Ms. Stevenson, but to you, I am Anna." She watched Rosie sign her name on the inscription on the paper. "You don't need to thank me and Mr. Peter Slowik, it's providence, the one with a capital P. God brought you here. As in the novels of Charles Dickens. I Really believe it. I've seen too many women who came here dispirited and left contented. There were more than twenty people in the city responsible for introducing them to me. Peter was one of them, but to bring you to他那里的力量，罗西……那种力量来自天堂。”
“以大写字母P打头的那个天意？”
“完全正确。”安娜看了看罗西的签名，把纸放在右边的书架上。罗西确信这张纸条到不了明天晚上就会消失在乱纸堆中。
“现在，”安娜带着刚刚结束了枯燥乏味的工作＿即将开始一项有趣内容的口吻说，“你会干什么？”
“干什么？”罗西反问道。她忽然感到一阵昏厥。她知道有什么事要发生了。
“是的，你会做什么工作？例如，速记技巧之类？”
“我……”她努力地克制着自己。她曾经在奥布雷威利中学选修过速记Ⅰ和速记Ⅲ的课程，两门功课都得了优秀。可是近几年她的基本功都忘光了。她摇了摇头：“我不行。我曾经学过速记，但是现在已经不记得了。”
“还会其他的秘书工作吗？”
她摇摇头，热泪刺痛了眼眶。她把它们强压了回去，手指甲又开始变成苍白色。
“誊印技术怎么样，也许你会打字？”
“不会。
“懂不懂数学，会计，或者银行业务？”
“不懂！”
安娜·史蒂文森偶然看见纸上有根铅笔，便拿起来，将带橡皮的一一头顶在雪白干净的牙齿上。“你会做女招待吗？”
罗西绝望之余想说可以，但她想到女招待们每天举着大托盘，尽力保持着平衡……她想起了自己受伤的后背和肾脏。
“不能。”她耳语般地说道。她再也控制不住自己的眼泪。写字台和它旁边的这个女人变得模糊不清。“暂时还不行，也许，再过一两个月，我的后背……现在它还不够坚强。”这些话听起来简直就像是在撒谎。
安娜·史蒂文森并没有流露出明显的不安。 '你到底会什么技能，无论哪种都行？ "
“我会！”她被逼到了愤怒的边缘，用嘶哑的嗓子喊着，再也无法压低自己的嗓门。“我真的会！我会打扫房间、洗盘子、铺床、清洁地板，会做两个人的饭，会每周跟我丈夫睡一次觉，我还会让人用拳头猛击头部，这是我的另外一门技能。附近有没有体育场馆需要为拳击手找一名陪练？”
她已经涕泪交加了。她紧握的欢手擦着脸上的泪痕，就像她结婚以来一直在做的那样，边擦边等待安娜将她赶走，让另外一个不这么愚蠢的家伙占据那张空床。
有什么东西碰到了她的左手背。她低下头，看到安娜·史蒂文森伸出手递给她一盒面巾纸。难以置信的是，安娜·史蒂文森在对她微笑。
“我认为你不一定非做别人的拳击陪练。”她说。“失别着急，你的情况我正在考虑，一般总是这样。拿着，先擦干眼泪再说。”
当罗西擦眼泪时，安娜告诉她关于白石旅馆的情况。姐妹之家与这家旅馆有着长期的合作关系。某公司拥有这家旅馆，而安娜那位有钱的父亲正好是那个公司的董事会成员，因此许多妇女在白石旅馆里尝到了带薪工作的乐趣。安娜告诉她，她必须在背伤允许的范围内努力工作，假如她的生理状况在二十一天内得不到改善，她必须去医院接受全面检查。
“同时，你将有一位熟悉规则的伙伴，她是长住此地的顾问。她将教会你一切，并且为你负责。例如，假如你偷了东西，她会替你受到惩罚，而不是你自己……你不会偷东西吧？”
罗西摇摇头：“我只偷过我丈夫的信用卡，仅此而已。而且我只用过一次。如果你们能证明我在撒谎，可以。随时让我走开。”
“你可以在白石旅馆一直工作到有了更适合的工作为止。你肯定会有机会的……这是天意，还记得吗？”
“以大写字母产打头的那个天意吗？”
“正是。我们只要求你尽最大努力做好白石旅馆的工作，以便为那些比你晚来的人奠定一个良好的基础。你能理解我的意思吗？”
罗西点点头：“千万别砸了大家的饭碗。”
“正是这个意思。你能在这儿工作太好了，罗西·麦克兰登。”安娜站起身来，向她伸出了双手，那姿势中带有她早已在安娜身上感觉到的某种下意识的骄傲感。罗西犹豫了一会儿，终于站起来，接受了她伸出的双手。现在她们的双手在乱糟糟的桌面上紧紧握住了。“我还有三件事要告诉你，因为这很重要，所以请你一定静下心来仔细听好。行吗？”
“行。”罗西说。她为安娜·史蒂文森那双清澈的蓝眼睛迷住了。
“首先，拿信用卡并不能证明你是小偷。那些钱既是他的，也是你的。第二，继续使用婚前姓名并不违法，那名字终生都属于你自己。第三、只要你想得到自由，你随时都拥有它。”
她停顿了一下，用她那双非凡的蓝眼睛从她们紧握着的双手上方看着她。
“明白了吗？只要你想要，你随时都拥有自由，这种自由使你从他的控制中，他的思想以及他的影响下彻底解放出来。你想要这种自由吗？”
“想要。”罗西用低沉而颤抖的声音说，“我对自由的需要超过了世上的一切。”
安娜·史蒂文森弯腰在罗西的面颊上轻轻吻了一下，同时使劲儿握了一下她的手。“你终于来到了该来的地方。亲爱的，欢迎回家。”
8
五月初，春天真的来临了。这是一个将年轻人的幻想催化成爱情的季节，它毫无疑问是个奇妙的、能够诞生伟大激情的季节。但是诺曼·丹尼尔斯心里却塞满了与它毫不相关的事情。他需要的是一次短暂的休息，现在机会来了。等待的时间太久了，足足等待了他妈的三个星期，但是现在终于还是被他等到了。 "
他是一个大块头的男人，身穿红色开领短袖和灰色华达呢休闲裤，坐在距妻子工作的旅馆800英里以外的一条公园长凳上。她正在那所旅馆里给别人换床单。他的手里捏着一个绿色荧光网球，当他捏那只网球时，前臂的肌肉有节奏地绷紧，松开。
街对面又走过来一位先生，从人行道的一侧往公园里张望。他对长凳上的男人点了点头，便朝这边走来。这时一只飞盘飘了过来，他蹲下去躲避时，又有一条德国牧羊狗从身边跑过、直奔那只飞盘而去，他停住了脚步。这位先生比第一位年轻，也比他瘦小一些。他长着一副英俊得不大可靠的面孔，留着艾罗富林·克罗斯比式胡须。他在右手捏网球的大块头身边停住，不十分肯定地看着他。
“兄弟，有事吗？”手拿网球的人问道。
“请问你是丹尼尔斯先生吗？”
手拿网球的人点头承认了。
留着文罗富林·克罗斯比胡须的人指着得对面那座新盖的高层建筑说：“那座楼里的人说我能在这里找到你。他说你能帮我。”
“是莫里中尉吗？”
“对，是叫这名字。”
"What's your business?"
“你知道。”留着艾罗富林·克罗斯比胡须的人说。
“兄弟，也许我能帮你，也许不能。不管怎么说，我就是你要找的那个人，你这乳臭未干的家伙，无论成还是不成，你得先让我知道是怎么回事儿。说出来听听。”
“我有你想要的东西，开个价吧。”他闷闷不乐地说。
“哦，”手拿网球的人说，“这可是重罪，而且可能还不止如此。他们在你的钱包里找着了我的东西，对吗？”
“对，那张该死的信用卡。那是我在垃圾箱里拣到的，活见鬼，还他妈的是个警察的，我可真够走运的。”
“坐下说吧。”丹尼尔斯和蔼可亲地说。他正要在长凳右边坐下来，丹尼尔斯叉摇摇头不耐烦地说。“坐到那边去。”
留克罗斯比胡须的人退回去，小心翼翼地坐在丹尼尔斯的左边。随着丹尼尔斯右手捏球的节奏越来越快。他胳膊内侧粗壮的深蓝色静脉血管像一只水蛇般蜿蜒曲折地蠕动着。
飞盘又飘过来了。两个男人注视着那条德国牧羊狗紧随其后地追逐那只飞盘，它迈着长腿疾驰而过的样子很像是一匹骏马。
“这条狗真漂亮。”丹尼尔斯说，“牧羊狗都非常漂亮。我一直很喜欢这种狗。你呢？”
“当然了，它的确很漂亮。”留克罗斯比胡须的男人说，实际上他认为这狗很丑陋，而且假如你给它机会的话，它会立即把你撕个粉碎。
“我们得好好谈谈。”拿网球的丹尼尔斯说，“兄弟，事实上我觉得在你年轻的生命中这将会是一次很重要的谈话。你准备好了吗？”
留克罗斯比胡须的人费力地咽下堵在嗓子眼里的东西，第八百遍地后悔自己没有扔掉那张该死的信用卡。为什么不扔掉它？为什么要变成一个地地道道、不折不扣的大傻瓜？
他知道为什么。首先因为他存有侥幸心理，总觉得会有那么一天他能想出一个使用那张信用卡的办法来的；其次因为他是个乐观主义者，这里毕竟是美国，是机遇的天堂；最后也是最真实的原因，就是他把它塞进钱包里的一大堆名片中以后便将它彻底忘光了。可卡因就有这种作用，你不停地跑，却怎么也想不起来为什么要跑。
警察在对他笑着，眼睛里却没有一丝笑意。他的目光中有一种……饥饿感。留克罗斯比胡须的人立即感到自己就像寓言故事里那三只小猪中的一只，坐在太坏狼的身旁。
“听我说，“兄弟，我们最好挑明了说。我从来没有用过你的信用卡。他们怎么跟你说的我管不着。我他妈的真的一次都没用过。 ".
“你当然没用过。”警察似笑非笑地说，“你搞不到我的密码，那是用电话号码改的，我的电话号码没有登记……所有警察的电话号码都是不登记的。我敢肯定你已经知道这件事了，对吗？我打赌你已经试遍了所有的办法。”
“没有！”留克罗斯比胡须的人说，“我没有试过！”他当然试过了。他先用信用卡上的街区号码和邮政编码组成各种组合。在全城所有的取款机上足足试了个够，手指都按疼了，仍然毫无结果。他感觉到自己就像是一个白痴在玩一台全世界最吝啬的老虎机。
“你想想，当我们在电脑上查询商业银行取款机时，我们会发现什么？”警察问，“难道我们不会发现我的信用卡无数次地进入取消、重试状态吗？如果我说得不对，我请你吃牛排。兄弟，你怎么想？”
留克罗斯比胡须的人已经不知道自己该想些什么了。他的感觉简直糟透了。这时，那警察还在没完没了地玩弄那只网球，无数次地重复着捏紧和松开的动作。他毛骨悚然地想到，他怎么还不停下来。
“你叫雷蒙·桑德斯，”丹尼尔斯警察说，“你的罪名排列起来比我的胳膊还长，盗窃、欺骗，服用麻醉剂、卖淫。除了殴打、袭击那一类罪名以外，几乎所有的罪名你都占全了。我没有冤枉你吧？你这个同性恋的家伙，喜欢挨打吗？就算你长得跟施瓦辛格一样英俊，也照样是条孬种。”
雷蒙·桑德斯一言不发。这是目前最明智的选择。
“我并不一定非要揍你或者踢你，甚至咬你一顿。”丹尼尔斯警察略带沉思地说，眼睛若即若离地看着那条德国牧羊狗，现在它的嘴里叼着那只飞碟正一路小跑地往这边奔来。“你认为怎么样？”
雷蒙仍然沉默不语。他想装出一副与己无关的表情，但沮丧的心情已经开始动摇他的神经系统，他的心脏就像一辆正在离开站台奔向旷野的火车，跳动得更加剧烈起来。他不停地偷看那位身穿红色开领短袖的家伙，越来越不喜欢他所看到的一切。那家伙的右前臂已经完全放松，血管粗大而充血。鼓起的肌肉就像是一卷刚出炉的新鲜面包。
丹尼尔斯似乎并不在意他的反应。他转过脸，对着这位小个子微笑，如果不看他的眼睛，那神情真像是在笑。他的眼睛里空无一物，看上去很像两只崭新的硬币。
“小英雄，我有好消息告诉你。你可以留着我的钱想干吗就干吗。只要你给我帮个忙，你就彻底自由了。这主意怎么样？”
雷蒙现在正在考虑着什么也不说，尽快地离开这里。但是这并不由他决定。警察已经不再拖延了。他在等待回答。
“好极了，”雷蒙说，希望这回答能让他满意。“简直太妙了，谢谢你给了我一点儿时间。”
“好啊，雷蒙，也许我喜欢你。”丹尼尔斯警察说着，做了一件令这位前海军陆战队队员目瞪口呆的事，一件雷蒙从他那钱迷心窍的脑子里永远想不出来的举动。丹尼尔斯将左手放在雷蒙的两腿之间，用力地摩擦起来，当着上帝，当着游乐场上那么多的孩子，以及所有那些不愿意看见此举的人！丹尼尔斯的手沿着顺时针方向，围绕着那一小块肉体上下左右地滑动。自从九岁时雷蒙被父亲的两位密友——比尔叔叔和卡洛叔叔轮流施行了性虐待以后，那个部位就始终左右着他的一生。下面发生的事情并没有任何特别之处，但对他来说却是绝无仅有的：他的小家伙居然硬起来了。
“对啊，也许我喜欢你，也许我特别喜欢你，你这身穿闪光裤。尖头鞋的乳臭未干的小家伙，为什么不呢？”丹尼尔斯警察一边说话，一边继续在那个乳臭未干的小家伙身上使劲儿摩擦着。他不停地变换着姿势，时不时地捏一把，使雷蒙几乎透不过气来。“这有多好啊，雷蒙，你最好相信我喜欢你，因为这次他们真的盯住你了，因重罪逮捕你。但是你知道有什么麻烦吗？里冯威尔和布鲁斯特那两位抓过你的警察今天早晨在警察局里大笑，他们在笑你。这倒没什么，可是我觉得他们笑的是我，这可不行。我不喜欢别人笑我，一般来说我绝对不吃这一套。可是今天早上我忍了。今夭下午我成了你最好的朋友。就算你拿了我那张该死的信用卡，我也要替你搞掉那条特别严重的贩毒罪名。你猜猜为什么？”
飞盘又一次飞来，德国牧羊狗仍然紧追不舍。这一次雷蒙·桑德斯几乎没有看见。他在警察的手心里坚挺得像一只道钉，惊恐得就像猫爪里的一只老鼠。
这一次警察的手捏得更加起劲儿了，雷蒙发出一声嘶哑的狂叫。他那咖啡牛奶皮似的面孔上布满了汗珠，细细的克罗斯比胡须像大雨过后的一只死蚯蚓。
“雷蒙，你猜得出来吗？”
“不行。”雷蒙说。
“因为拿走信用卡的人恰恰是我老婆。”丹尼尔斯说，“这就是里冯威尔和布鲁斯特嘲笑我的原因。这就是我的推论。她拿走了我的信用卡，用它取出了几百美元，那是我挣的钱；这张信用卡现在却拿在一个叫做雷蒙的乳臭未干的家伙手里。难怪他们要笑我。”
雷蒙想说，求求你别害我，只要你不伤害我，我会把一切都说出来的。他使劲儿地说着，却连一个音符也发不出来。他的宝贝儿在缩小，一直缩小到像一只内藏式活塞。
大个子警察向雷蒙弯下腰，离得那么近，雷蒙甚至能够清楚地闻到他呼出的烟味和苏格兰威士忌味儿。
“既然我都跟你分享了，你也得跟我分享。”摩擦停止了，他粗壮的手指穿过薄薄的棉麻裤绕在雷蒙的睾丸上。他那直挺挺的阴茎清清楚楚地暴露在警察的手上，它看上去就像在棒球公园的礼品摊上能买到的一种玩具蝙蝠。雷蒙感受到那只手的力量。
“雷蒙，你应该跟我分享好东西。你知道为什么吗？”
雷蒙毫无知觉地摇着头。他觉得好像自己的身体上被人安装了一个热水器，他全身上下都在散发着水蒸气。
丹尼尔斯伸开拿着网球的右手，放在他的鼻子下面，然后突然合上手，恶毒地一使劲儿，只听到极其短促的一声，噗，球破了。
“我还能用左手做一次，”丹尼尔斯说，“你相信吗？”
雷蒙想说相信，但发觉自己仍旧发不出任何声音，只好点了点头。
“你得记住。”
雷蒙又点了点头。
“现在听好，雷蒙，要你告诉我航是什么。我知道你只不过是一个长着道钉的公牛屁股，根本不知道女人是怎么回事儿，也可能你年轻时还想过干你的亲妈，不过每次只是在你的想象中做那种事。你回家后发现，你的那位曾经发誓要爱你、尊重你，还他妈的顺从你的可爱的妻子，却拿着你的信用卡跑了，你会怎么想？你发现她用那张卡付了该死的旅行费，然后她把它塞进长途汽车站的垃圾箱里，好让你这个乳臭未干的家伙找到，你会有什么感觉？”
“感觉不太好。”雷蒙低声说，”“我打赌那种感觉并不好，请你不要伤害我，警官先生，求你不要……”
丹尼尔斯慢慢地攥紧了拳头，攥得直到手腕上的青筋像吉他弦一样突起。一阵痛苦的巨浪像液态铅一般沉重地卷入了雷蒙的腹部，他试图尖叫，却什么声音也没有，只听到类似马的喷气声。
“感觉不太好？”丹尼尔斯对着他的脸轻轻说。他的鼻子里往外喷着醉醺醺的、有烟味的热气。“你所能做到的就是这些吗？你他妈的真是个榆木脑袋！不过，这种回答也不能算是完全不对。”
那只拳头松开了，只是松开了一点点。雷蒙的腹部极度痛苦，但他的阴茎依然坚挺如初。他猜想那是因为警察的手限制了那里面血液的流动。
“他们就在那里嘲笑我，”警察用下巴冲着街对面那座新盖的警察商店指了指，“他们就这么笑我，对呀，结实魁梧的诺曼·丹尼尔斯，你猜怎么着，他老婆离家出走了……不过她走以前还从容不迫地拿走了一些她想要拿的东西。”
丹尼尔斯发出一声非人的嚎叫声，那是一种只有在动物园里才能听到的动静，又使劲捏了一把雷蒙的睾丸。疼痛已使雷蒙不堪忍受，他弯下腰，在两只膝盖之间呕吐起来。丹尼尔斯似乎并没有注意到，他专心注视着露天体育馆的上空，沉浸在他自己的世界中。
“如果让他们围着你跳舞，嘲笑的人难道会更多吗叩他问道，“他们在政府办公大楼里能像在警察局里一样放声大笑吗？恐怕不行吧。 "
他转过身，看着雷蒙的眼睛笑了。他的笑容使雷蒙直想尖叫。
“有一个十分严肃的问题，”警察说，“如果你撒谎，我就扯掉你的阴囊，让你吃下去。”
丹尼尔斯又开始捏他的两腿分叉处，雷蒙的眼前一片发黑。他竭力挣扎着才没有倒下。假如他晕倒在地，那警察一定会恼羞成怒地杀了他。
“听懂我的话了吗？”
“听懂了！”雷蒙哭泣着，“是的！听懂了！”
“你在长途汽车站看见她往垃圾箱里扔信用卡，这些事我都知道。我想知道在这之后她去哪儿了？”
雷蒙差点儿因为感到宽慰而又哭起来。他不知道自己为什么这么幸运，他凑巧能够回答这个问题。他曾经跟在那女人后面，想知道她是否回过头看见了自己，五分钟以后，当他把绿色塑料信用卡塞进钱包以后，又抬头看了她一眼。她头上戴着红色饰物，很容易被他的目光捕捉到。
“她去了售票窗口！”雷蒙在将要被黑暗无情地吞没之前终于喊出了声音。
这一努力得到的回报便是被更加野蛮地捏了一把。雷蒙感到阴囊已经被撕破，伤口处流淌着浅色的液体，而且燃烧起来了。
“我知道她到售票窗口去了！”丹尼尔斯对他一半冷笑，一半尖叫着，“如果她没有乘汽车去别的什么地方，她去长途汽车站还能干些什么？难道对你这种人进行社会调查吗？哪个售票窗口，这才是我想知道的，他妈的哪个窗口，几点钟？”
哦，感谢上帝，感谢耶稣和圣母玛丽亚，这几个问题的答案他全都知道。
“大陆快运！”他喊道，“我在十点半时看见她在大陆快运售票窗口”。
“大陆快运？你敢肯定吗？”
雷蒙·桑德斯没有回答。他已经倒在了长条椅上。他的一只胳膊茸拉在地上，细长的手指伸展着，面色苍白，脸颊上泛着两团紫色。一对年轻人从这里走过，看了看躺在长凳上的人，又看了看丹尼尔斯，他的手早已从雷蒙的两腿中间拿开了。
丹尼尔斯朝那一对年轻人咧嘴笑着说：“别担心，他的癫痫病发作了。”他停了一下，让自己笑得更充分一些，“我会照顾他的。我是一名警察。”
他们加快了步伐，再也没有回头。
丹尼尔斯把手放在雷蒙的肩头，那个部位的骨头摸上去就像鸟的翅膀一样弱不禁风。“你这个大男孩儿。”他边说边将他扶起来，让他靠在长条椅上好像是坐着的样子。雷蒙脑袋低垂，活像断了主茎的花朵，刚刚被扶正，又往后面倒下去，喉咙里还发出微弱的呼噜声。丹尼尔斯又一次将他抱起来，这一次雷蒙在长条椅上坐稳了。
丹尼尔斯坐在他身边，看那条德国牧羊狗欢快地追逐飞盘。他太羡慕那些狗了。真的，它们没有责任，不需要工作，至少在这个国家里不需要，它们的吃住都由人来提供，甚至当生命结束时，它们也用不着担心上天堂还是下地狱，关于这一点他曾在奥布莱威利问过欧布朗神父，他回答说，宠物没有灵魂，它们的死亡只是像独立日那天的烟花一样一闪即逝。
雷蒙喉咙深处发出一种哼哼声，那是一个正在噩梦之中的男人发出的声音。
丹尼尔斯仍然在想，你得到的便是你所拥有的。人还是满足现状一些才好。下一辈子他如果能托生成一只德国牧羊狗就算很幸运了，什么也不用干，只需要在公园里追逐一会儿飞盘，在回家的路上伸长脑袋，从后窗玻璃往外张望，另外还有一顿美味的普雷拉狗食在家等着它享用。可是现在不行，这一生是办不到了。这一生他还是个人类，有着人类的烦恼。
至少他还算是一个人类，不至于像他的这位小朋友一样混得如此凄惨。
大陆快运。雷蒙十点半时看见她在售票窗口，她在那儿等不了多久。他用生命担保，她因为害怕他，所以不会在那儿待很久，一定会找一辆在上午十一点到下午一点之间出站的汽车离开。她很可能以某个大城市为目标，消失在其中。
“你不能这么做。”丹尼尔斯说。他看到德国牧羊狗腾空跳了起来，用雪白的长牙齿去够那只飞盘。不，她不能这么做。她一定会以为自己办得到，其实她完全弄错了。他周末就开始着手调查这件事，主要通过打电话来解决问题。他只能这么做，因为公司商店里有好多事需要处理。他即将遭遇一次惨重的失败，这纯粹是他个人的失败。But that's okay.他准备尽快把全部注意力转移到罗丝身上，不久她会后悔她所做的一切的。她会后悔一辈子。这样的一段人生将会是既短暂又极其——
“极其充实。”他大声地说，一点儿不错，正是这个词。
他站起身，轻快地穿过马路，向对面的警察局走去，对长凳上那位低着头，双手交叉放在两腿之间，仍然处于昏迷之中的年轻人看都没有再看一眼。在二级探员诺曼·丹尼尔斯的心里，雷蒙早已不存在了。丹尼尔斯正在考虑有关他妻子的一切事情，他们需要谈到的所有内容。一旦他抓住了她，他们得谈谈。他得跟这个承诺说要爱。要尊重、要顺从，最终却把她丈夫的信用卡放进自己皮包中的妻子把这一切都谈开，谈谈该怎么处置她。
他们要挨得紧紧地谈一谈。
9
她正在铺另外一张床。这一次不会有任何麻烦。这完全是另一个城市、另一个房间里的另一张床，而且，这是一张她从来没有睡过。也永远不会睡在上面的床。自从她离开800英里以外的那套房间至今已经过去了一个月，事情正在逐渐变得好起来。她十分确定，连对她最不利的背部的伤痛也已经好得多了。说实话，尽管肾脏的剧烈疼痛仍使她不愉快，但是她今天已经打扫了十八套客房。当她刚来白石旅馆时，打扫十套客房就要晕倒，打扫十四套客房就得请波尔帮忙。罗西发现，在短短四个星期里，尤其是在肾脏和胃部没有遭到痛打的这四个星期里。一个人的精神和外观会发生很大的变化。
她不知道还有什么比这更好。
她站在门口，脑袋伸出门外，往走廊两侧看了看。走廊里除了几只客房服务专用的早餐托盘、波尔停放在走廊尽头的那辆手推车以及她自己停放在624房间门外的手推车以外，什么也看不到。
罗西将手推车上那一摞新鲜干净的衣服抬起一角，底下露出了一根香蕉。她拿起香蕉，走到624房间窗口，那里有一把堆满东西的椅子，她坐下来开始慢慢地剥皮。在五月中旬这个下着小雨的宁静的下午，她坐在窗前吃着香蕉，惬意地欣赏着湖面的景色。窗外的湖水像镜子般闪闪发光。她的心头充满了一种巨大而深厚的感情，那是一种感激之情。至少到目前为止她的生活还不是很完美，但比起她四月中旬初次来到姐妹之家那天，站在门廊里看着内部通话器和密码锁时所想象的未来生活画面要好得多。在那一刻里，她对未来的想象只有黑暗和苦难。她的肾脏和脚上都有伤。她知道自己并不想在白石旅馆当一辈子房间服务员，但是……香蕉的味道真不错，椅子坐上去也极其舒服。这种时候她真不情愿拿这份工作跟任何人交换。在离开诺曼的这几个星期里，罗西变得对任何一种小小的欢乐都极为敏感，例如临睡前阅读半个小时的书报杂志，洗餐具时和同事们聊聊电影和电视节目，或者干活时休息五分钟，坐下来吃根