Chapter 20 Chapter Twelve Alone

Footage of the incident was shown on the television news late Wednesday night, but people didn't see the full extent of the incident until they woke up the next morning.By this time, all the information journalists could gather had been codified into what Americans thought of as "news." What they call journalism is tantamount to "tell me a story"—with a beginning, middle, and end. The American people drank their morning tea, and the stories they got through various newspapers and CBS morning news were roughly like this: A terrorist bombed a top-secret scientific research military base in Longmont, Virginia.Although it has not been determined which terrorist group it is, three groups have claimed responsibility for the incident.

Although no one knows who organized the attack, relevant reports describe the entire process of the incident in detail.An agent named Rain Bird (he was an Indian, a Vietnam veteran), turned out to be a double agent.It was he who planted the bomb for the terrorist organization.In one of the places where the bomb was planted - a stable - he also died by accident or suicide.One source said Rain Bird was actually knocked down by the heat and smoke while trying to get the horses out of the stables.This is also in line with the usual perception of those ruthless terrorists: they care more about animals than people.In this tragedy, twenty people were killed and fifty-five were injured, ten of them seriously.The survivors have now been "quarantined" by the government.

That's the story in the news.Ita's name is hardly mentioned.In every way, it was a happy event. But the story is not over yet. "I don't care where she is now," said Ita's new superintendent four weeks after the fire and Charlie's escape.They could have easily put the girl back in the net in the first ten days.But at that time, everything was in extreme chaos, and all functions had not yet returned to normal.Sitting behind a makeshift desk (her own won't arrive until three days later), the new superintendent said in a huff, "I don't care what she can do. She's just an eight-year-old, not a girl." Superman. There's no way she just disappeared. Never. I want you to find her and kill her."

Standing across from her to receive this thunderous wrath was a middle-aged man: he looked like a small-town library keeper.Of course it goes without saying that we all know he is not. He tapped thoughtfully on some computer printouts on the new supervisor's desk.All the files in Karp's hands were destroyed in the fire, but fortunately most of the information was stored in the computer. "How is the situation now?" "The proposal to reopen the Destiny Six experiments has been put on indefinite hold," his new chief told him, "for political reasons, of course. There are eleven old men, one young man, and three old men. Congresswoman—they're scared out of their wits at the thought of what might have happened to that girl. They—”

"Though I doubt those Iowa, Maine, and Minnesota senators have any qualms about conducting this experiment," murmured the librarian. The chief shrugged resignedly. "They're interested in Destiny Six. We know that very well." She began to stroke her long hair.In the light, her shaggy hair gleamed auburn. ...on indefinite hold' that is, until we deliver the girl's body to them. " "We had to prepare food for a feast, and so far the plates are empty.  … The man across the table muttered under his breath. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Nothing," he said. "It looks like we've lost all our work. We'll have to start over." "Not exactly," replied the magistrate gravely. "She no longer has a father to shield her from. Now she is alone. I want you to find her. Find her now." "What if she's confided before we get to her?" The boss sat back in Cap's chair and put his hands behind his head.The man looked admiringly at her sweater-covered breasts, thinking that Cap was never like that. "If she was going to do it, she would have already done it." She leaned forward again, tapping the calendar on the table impatiently. "It's November fifth," she said, "and nothing has happened. In the meantime, I think we've taken all precautions. Time. Washington Post. Chicago Tribune)  … ...We've monitored all these big newspapers, but we haven't had any intelligence yet."

"What if it's a tabloid? What if she goes to a local (Time) instead of the New York (Time)? We can't just spy on every news organization in the country." "Unfortunately, this is indeed the truth." The chief nodded in agreement, "But so far there has been no situation, which means that she has not spoken yet." "Is anyone really going to believe such a fantastic story told by a 12-year-old girl?" "If she tells the story and sets it on fire, I think they will believe it." The officer replied, "But do you know what the computer says?" She patted the document on the table with a smile; There's an eighty-fifty chance we'll have no trouble getting her body before the committee... as long as she's identified."

"You mean she's going to kill herself?" The officer nodded.The thought of the possibility made her smile. "That's great." The man said and stood up. "But personally, I remember the computer also said that Andrew McGee had lost his special powers." The officer's smile froze suddenly. ． "Goodbye. Boss." After finishing speaking, he walked out complacently. On that same day, under a gray November sky, a man in a flannel jacket.A man in long trousers and a pair of green high boots is chopping firewood.The weather is still warm, and people don't feel the shadow of winter yet.He hung the coat his wife had forced him to wear on a fence post.Against the wall of the old barn behind him was a huge pile of orange pumpkins—some of them, unfortunately, starting to go bad.

He stood the other log on the chopping board, and then he raised the ax high and slammed it down.With a bang, the wood split in two and fell to the ground.Then a voice behind him said, "You've got a new backing, but the old marks are still there, aren't you? It's still there." He turned around in surprise.Mu Di, he involuntarily backed away, and the ax in his hand fell with a bang on the burnt mark of the fast board before the ground.At first, he thought he saw a ghost, the ghost of a child who had run away from a cemetery three miles away.She stood pale in the driveway, like a skeleton.The dress she was wearing was worn out, and her hollow eyes gleamed in their sunken sockets.There was a long scratch on her right arm that appeared to be infected.On his feet was what appeared to be a pair of sneakers, but it was already difficult to see what they were.

then,.He recognized her.This was the little girl from a year ago: she said she was Roberta, and her little head could light a fire. "Robby?" he said. "Is that Robbie?" " "Yes, it's still there." She murmured and repeated, seemingly not hearing his question.He suddenly understood the gleam in her eyes; she was crying. "Robbie," he said, "my dear. What's the matter? Where's your father?" "Still there," she said again, and her legs gave way and she fell forward.YvesMendes took a step forward and grabbed her.He hugged her, knelt in the dust of the vestibule, and started calling out for his wife.

In the evening, Dr. Hefritz came to the farm.He spent about 20 minutes with the little girl in the back bedroom.Yves and his wife, Norma Mendes, sat transfixed at the kitchen table, watching rather than eating.From time to time Norma looked up at her husband not accusingly but inquiringly.An invisible fear hangs over the couple. The day after the farm fire, a man named Tarkington came.He went to the hospital where Ive was staying and handed them his business card, which simply read: Whitney Tarkington Government Regulator. . 'Get out of here. Norma yelled at him. Her pale lips were pressed together, and her eyes showed anger and pain. Her poor husband had enough of his bandages on his arms. He had told her that, except for one hemorrhoid Besides, the whole of the Second World War had left no mark on him. And now he was shot at his own house in Hastings Glenn. "Get out. "Norma said again. But Ive may have thought more, and he just said, "What do you have to say, Tarkington." Tarkington produced a check for thirty-five thousand dollars--not a government check but drawn from the account of a major insurance company.But it wasn't the one the Manders bought the insurance on. "We don't want your filthy money," Norma snapped.And ready to ring the bell. "I think you'd better hear me out first, lest you regret it later," Whitney Tarkington said politely and softly. Norma looks at Eve.Eve nodded.Reluctantly, she let go of the bell. Tarkington opened the briefcase he carried on his lap and took out a file.It said "Menders" and "Breedlove".Norma's eyes widened, and her heart churns.Breed Love was her maiden name, how could she appear here? No one wants to see their name appear on government records; and no one wants their privacy to be pryed into by others. Tarkington lowered his voice.The calm voices talked for about forty-five minutes.Occasionally he would pull out a few photocopies from the Menders/Breedlove file to further illustrate what he had said.Norma pursed her lips and flipped through the documents, then handed them to Eve who was lying on the bed. It was a matter of national security, Tarkington had told them that terrible evening. You must realize this.We don't want to do it, but we have to show you why.You know very little about these things. I know you want to kill an unarmed man and his daughter, Yves shot back. Tarkington sneered—a sneer reserved for those who don't pretend to know the business of government—and replied that you don't know what you're seeing.My task is not to convince you of this fact, but to try to persuade you not to spread it around.Now, listen up: This check is tax-deductible.It'll help you fix your house, pay your medical bills, and have plenty left over.In this way, both of us can avoid a lot of unhappiness. Not pleasant, Norma thought as she sat at the dinner table.She listened to Dr. Hefritz walking up and down the bedroom and looked down at the barely touched dinner.After Tarkington left that day, Eve gazed at her silently, but her eyes were full of hatred and pain.He said to her: My dad said that if you are unfortunate enough to be involved in a mutual attack and throwing dirty water at each other, what matters is not how much dirty water you spilled, but how much dirty water was thrown at you by others. "Both the Mendess come from large families. Yves has three brothers and three sisters. Norma has four sisters and a brother. Uncles. Nephews. Nephews. And cousins, and parents and grandparents. According to Tarkington's material, one of Eve's nephews.A young man named Fred Drey has a small garden in the backyard of his Kansas home, which grows marijuana; One of Norma's uncles was a contractor whose business was in shambles in Texas.He's so in debt that just a little information can make him completely bankrupt, and he has a family of seven to support; a cousin of Ive's (Ive remembers seeing her, but can't remember what she looks like ), embezzled a small sum of money from the bank where she worked six years ago.The bank fired her instead of prosecuting her to avoid adverse publicity.It took her two years to pay off that money and now runs a decent beauty salon in Minnesota.But the time limit for prosecution has not yet expired, and she can still be held legally responsible for the incident six years ago.The FBI has a file on Don, Norma's youngest brother.Don had joined a terrorist group in the mid-sixties that planned to blow up Doyle Chemical's Philadelphia office building.Their evidence isn't strong enough to charge him (and Don himself once told Norma that he quit the organization when he heard what the men were up to), but if a copy of the file is sent to his current company Otherwise, he will definitely lose his job. In the small, poorly ventilated ward, Tarkington kept talking in his monotonous voice.He saved his best cards for last.When Eve's great-grandfather came to the United States from Poland in 1888, their last name was Mandrowski—they were Jewish.Eve's grandpa married a non-Jewish girl and gave up Judaism.When it came to his father, he married a Protestant girl.Yves, like him, married the Protestant Norma. In this way, the Jewish blood in the family is even thinner.But in Poland, there are still many Mandrowskis, and Poland is ruled by the Communist Party.If the CIA wanted to, they could make life extremely difficult for these relatives whom Yves had never met, because Jews were not welcome there. Tarkington finally shut up.He put the file back in the briefcase and put the bag between his feet again.He is radiant.Looking at them triumphantly, like a good student who has just successfully completed the recitation homework. Eve leaned against the pillow very tiredly.He could feel Tarkington watching him, and he didn't care.But Norma's questioning eyes were also watching him eagerly. Those distant relatives in a foreign country?Ok?Yves thought.This sounds as ridiculous as a cliché, but now he can't laugh, how many times have they been away from me?Four clothes 'six clothes?Eight clothes?God.What do I do if we don't agree to the bastard's terms and these people send them to Siberia, send a postcard saying they're doing hard work there because I let a little girl and Her father hitchhiking?Christ. Dr. Heflitz, who was nearly eighty years old, slowly walked out of the bedroom, brushing his white hair back with his veiny hands as he walked.Eve and Norma turned to look at him, very happy to have jumped out of their memories of the past. "She's awake," said Dr. Heflitz, shrugging.Things aren't going well with your little tramp.She had an infected wound on her arm and back, which she said she had scratched while crawling under barbed wire to avoid an enraged boar. " Heflitz sat down at the table with a sigh.He took out a pack of fish camel cigarettes, took out one and lit it.He has smoked cigarettes all his life, and he never gets tired of it. "Want something to eat, Carl?" Norma asked. Heflitz looked at the plate in front of them. "No, but it looks like I'm going to eat something, and you don't need to cook any more." He said dryly. "Is she going to be in bed for a long time?" Eve asked. "Should take her to Albany," Heflitz said.He grabbed a few olives from a plate on the table. "She has a fever of 100 degrees due to an infected wound and needs to be observed. I'll leave you some penicillin and antiseptic ointment. She is malnourished and severely dehydrated and needs mostly food and rest." He put an olive in the mouth. ··Norma, if you give her chicken soup, she will spit it out if she eats anything else.I will only give her soup tomorrow.Beef broth, chicken broth.Plenty of water and, of course, plenty of gin, the best drink. Here he smiled; popping another olive into his mouth. "I should have informed the police, you know. " "No." Eve and Norma said in unison.Dr. Heflitz laughed again, which caused them to exchange a strange look. "She's in trouble, isn't she?" Eve looked uncomfortable.He opened his mouth, but closed it again without saying a word. "Maybe it has something to do with your trouble last year?" This time Norma opened her mouth.But before she could speak, Eve said, "I think what you reported was just a gunshot wound, Carl." "According to the law." Heflitz said impatiently, and at the same time stubbed out the cigarette in his hand, "but you know the spirit of the law is unwritten. Now here comes a little girl, you said her name is Roberta McCauley. But I don't believe it, just like I don't believe that pigs can pull out dollars. She said she scratched herself while crawling under the barbed wire. I think it happened on the way to see relatives It's funny enough, and I don't believe it when she says she can't remember anything from last week. Who the hell is she, Yves?" Norma looked at her husband with some fear, and Yves leaned back in the chair and looked at Dr. Heflitz. "Yes." He finally said, "She had something to do with that last year. That's why I called you here, Karl. You've seen bad things here, in our native Poland. You know it's What. And you also know that laws sometimes run in the hands of the people who hold them. I mean if you tell people that the little girl is here, a lot of people will get into trouble that they shouldn't have. Norma And me, our relatives, and the little girl. I guess I can tell you as much as I can. We've known each other for twenty-five years, and you've got to decide what to do, Karl." "If I don't talk about it," Heflitz said, lighting another cigarette, "what are you going to do?" Eve and Norma looked at each other.After a while, she shook her head slightly in bewilderment and lowered her eyes to the plate in front of her. "I don't know." Eve said softly. "You want to keep her in a cage like a parrot?" Heflitz asked. Churchgoers, go to church often. People come to visit. Livestock inspectors come to inspect your cows every now and then. That bald bastard who collects taxes comes to re-value your house when the weather is nice. What do you do? In the cellar Build her a house here? That would be wonderful for a child." Norma looked increasingly disturbed. "I don't know," Eve repeated, 'I guess I'll have to think about it.I know what you mean, but if you know the people who tried to catch her, Hefritz's eyes suddenly became wary when he heard this.But he didn't ask much. "I'll have to think about it. But don't tell anyone just yet, okay?" Heflitz threw the last olive into his mouth and stood up with a long sigh.He grabbed the edge of the table and said to Eve, "Okay. Now she's quiet, and the medicine I gave her is working. I won't tell anyone, Eve, but you better think about how to deal with this." thing, think about it. Because a child is not a parrot.' "Yes," Norma said softly, "of course not. " "That child is a bit strange." Heflitz said as he picked up his black leather bag, "There is something different about her. I can't tell what it is, but I can feel it." "Yes," Eve said, "she's a little bit different, Carl, you're right. That's why she got into trouble. " He walked the doctor out the door and watched him walk into the warm rainy December night. The doctor's pair is covered with veins.But when the extremely gentle hand had finished examining Charlie, she dozed off in a daze.She could hear their voices in the other room and knew they were talking about herself.But she sensed that they were just talking...not plotting. The sheets were clean and cool, and the comforter fell softly on her.Her thoughts wandered.She remembers leaving the place and hitting a van full of hippies on the way.They were all smoking marijuana and drinking alcohol.She remembered they called her little sister and asked her where she was going. "North," she replied.The men laughed and agreed. She didn't remember anything from then until yesterday.How she had come to Menders' farm. Why she had come here—whether it was her conscious decision or something else—she had no memory of it at all. Gradually, she fell asleep.In the dream, she was back in Harrison: she had just woken up, tear-stained, screaming in terror; her mother rushed in, her auburn hair gleaming blindingly in the morning sun.She cried, "Mom, I dreamed that both you and daddy were dead!" Mom stroked her hot forehead with her hand, and said softly: "Hush, Charlie, there, there. It's daylight, and it was just a ridiculous dream." That night, Yves and Norma Mendes got very little sleep.They sat there watching TV: one ridiculous series after another, then the news, then the evening shows.Every fifteen minutes or so, Norma stood up and quietly left the living room to check on Charlie. "How is she?" asked Eve at about a quarter past one. "It's fine. Asleep." Eve grunted. "Have you thought about it, Eve?" "We've got to take care of her until she's better," Eve said, "and then we've got to talk to her and see what's going on with her dad. That's all I can think about right now." "If those people come back--" "Why are they coming back--" Ive asked, "They've gagged us. They thought we'd freaked out—" "We're freaking out," Norma said softly. "But that's not right." Eve also said softly, "You understand that money—that "insurance payment"—I've never felt at ease, how about you?" "Me too," Norma said.Then she went on: "But Dr. Heflitz is right, Yves. A little girl ought to be around. She's got to go to school and make friends and--and--" "Did you see She does." Ive said simply, "What a hot split. You said she was the devil. " "I've been feeling guilty about that," Norma said. "Her father—he seemed like a really nice guy. If only I knew where he was." "He's dead," said a voice behind them.When Norma turned and saw Charlie standing in the doorway, she let out a cry of surprise.She looked clean in one of Norma's flannel dressing gowns, which made her look even paler; her feverish brow glowed like a lantern. "My dad died. They killed him and I have nowhere to go. Help me, please? I'm sorry, but it wasn't my fault. I told them it wasn't my fault, and I told them Yes, but the lady said I was a witch. She said—" Tears welled up and ran down her cheeks. "Okay, honey, come here." Norma said distressedly.Charlie ran towards her with her arms outstretched. When Dr. Heflitz came to see Charlie the next day, she said she was getting better.Two days later, he said she was much better.When he came back on the weekend, he said that Charlie had recovered. "Yve, have you decided what to do?" Eve shook his head again. That Sunday morning, Norma went to church alone.She told people that Yves had a fever.Charlie, though still weak, was able to move around indoors, and Eve stayed home with her.Norma had bought her many clothes in Albany the day before— Because buying these things in Hastings Glen is sure to get some bad reviews. Yves was sitting by the fire whittling a log.After a while, Charlie came and sat beside him. "Don't you want to know?" she asked. "Don't you want to know what happened after we drove out of here?" He looked up and smiled at her: "I think you'll tell me when you're ready, little one." She looked tense.The serious and pale face did not change: "Aren't you afraid of me?" "Should I be afraid?" "Aren't you afraid that I'll set you on fire?" "No, little one. I don't think so. I want to tell you something. You're not a little girl anymore. You're not a big girl yet, but you've grown up. A kid your age -- all kids -- can get matches if they want to set a house on fire or something.But not many people do that.Why would they do that?And why would you do that?A child your age should be reassuring - feel that it's OK to give you a knife or a box of matches.So I'm not afraid. " Hearing this, Charlie's face became less tense, and a look of relief flashed across it. "I'm going to tell you," she said, "I'm going to tell you everything." She began her long, bloody story.When Norma returned an hour later, she was still talking.Norma stood at the door listening to her story, then slowly undid her coat and took it off.Charlie's young and somewhat vicissitudes voice continued to tell...all the sorrows.all the pain.All the anger and helplessness. When her story was finished, Eve and Norma understood the danger they faced, and the enormity of it. winter is here.Yves and Norma are still undecided what to do.They started going to church together again.Charlie was left alone at home.They repeatedly told her not to answer the phone; to hide in the cellar if anyone came.Heflitz's words "like a parrot in a cage" echoed in Ive's ears from time to time.He bought a bunch of textbooks—still in Albany—and started teaching Charlie to read.Although she is very smart, it is a pity that he is not a good teacher.Norma is better than him.But sometimes when she and Charlie were reading a history or geography textbook, she would look up at Eve with a questioning look in her eyes... a question that Ive couldn't answer. Here comes the new year; and then comes February.March.Charlie's birthday.The couple bought her presents from Albany.Poor Charlie, like a parrot in a cage.But Charlie herself didn't seem to care.Sometimes Yves comforts himself during sleepless nights by saying: That might be a good thing for Charlie's recovery in some ways.But what about later?he does not know. It was one day in early April, and it rained heavily for two consecutive days, and the firewood was completely soaked by rain.Eve couldn't light the kitchen stove anyway. "Stand back a bit," Charlie said.He stepped back mechanically, thinking she wanted to see something.Something in the air passed through him—something warm.A moment later, the stove was blazing. Eve turned back and stared at her with wide-eyed surprise.Charlie watched him with an expression of nervous anticipation. "I helped you, didn't I?" she said in a trembling voice. "It's not bad, is it?" "Yeah," he said, "as long as you can control it, it's not bad, Charlie." "I can control the little ones." "Don't do that in front of Norma, kid. She'll freak out." Charlie smiled. Eve hesitated and said, "As for me, you can help me whenever you want, so that the stove doesn't bother me. I'm not good at lighting the stove." "Okay," she said, with a wider smile, "and I'll be careful." "Of course, of course you'll be careful." For a second he seemed to see the men on the porch frantically beating their burning hair out, trying to get it out. Charlie recovered quickly, but she still had a poor appetite and had nightmares from time to time.In Norma's words, they are very "picky eaters". One night in mid-April, she suddenly woke up from a nightmare, covered in cold sweat.The nightmare did not go away immediately, it was still vivid and terrifying before her eyes (Yves took her to the woods in the afternoon; in the dream, they came to the woods again. Suddenly she heard a noise behind her, turned her head and saw John Rainbird approaching them quietly. His figure flickered behind the trees, almost imperceptibly; the one eye shone with a grim gleam.He's holding the gun in his hand - the gun that killed her father, and he's getting closer...).Then, the nightmare dissipated.Fortunately, she will soon forget the terrible dream; and she will no longer startle Eve and Norma by waking up screaming for help. That's when Charlie heard them talking in the kitchen. In the dark, she found her teddy bear on the dresser and held it up to her face. It was ten o'clock. She had just slept for an hour and a half. "—how?" Norma asked. It's wrong to eavesdrop, but what can she do?And it was she they were talking about; she knows. "I don't know," Eve said. "Have you thought about newspapers?" newspaper.Charlie thought Papa had tried to tell the papers about them.Dad said then everything would be fine. "Which one? I've asked. The Hastings Glenhorn? They'll put it next to the commercials and promos." "Her father was going to do that." "Norma," he said, "I can take her to New York. I can take her to The New York Times. But what if four guys pull out their guns and shoot us in the hallway?" Charlie pricked up her ears now.Norma's footsteps crossed the kitchen; the kettle whined, and she couldn't make out what she said. Eve said: "Yeah, I know it can happen. And worse things can happen. As much as I love her, I have to say this. Once she can't control that thing, it's like Where they imprisoned her...New York City has nearly eight million people, Norma. I don't think I'm old enough to take that kind of risk anymore." Norma's footsteps came back to the table, and the room's ancient floorboards resounded pleasantly beneath her feet. "But, Yves, listen to me now," she said.Norma spoke slowly and cautiously, as if after long consideration. "Even a tabloid like The Bugle pays attention to gathering information. News comes from all corners these days. Two years ago, a Southern California tabloid won the Pulitzer Prize for journalism, and it had a circulation of less than fifteen hundred. share!" he laughed.Charlie seemed to see him holding her hand: "You are very researched on these, Norma?" "Yes, I did. And you don't have to laugh at me for it, Yves Mendes! It's serious business! We're in a difficult position! How long can we keep her here without being Who found out? You took her to the woods yesterday afternoon "Norma, I'm not kidding you, and the kid should go for a walk—" "You think I don't know? I didn't tell you to go out, did I? That's why! Children need exercise to grow up. Fresh air, so they have a good appetite, and she's one by one" "Food eater, I know. " "Pale and picky eaters. So I have nothing against you guys going out. I'm glad to see you take her out. But, Yves, what if Johnny Gordon or Ray Parks happen to wander over and see you? They sometimes here." "Honey, they didn't come." But Yves sounded disturbed. "Not this time! Not last time! But Yves, it can't always be like this! We've been lucky so far," you get it! " Her footsteps crossed the kitchen again.Then there was the sound of pouring water. "Yes," Eve said, "yes, I understand. But... oh, thanks, honey." "You're welcome." She said and sat down again. "Don't say anything but, you know it only takes one or two people to get word out. People will know we have a little girl here, Yves. Never mind what it does to her; what if those people find out?" In the darkness of the bedroom, Charlie stretched her arms out. Eve said slowly, "I see what you mean, Norma. I've thought about what we have to do a million times. A small newspaper... but it's not safe. You know if we want to guarantee the child's future life, we must spread the word about her. If she is to be kept safe, there must be a lot of people who know of her existence and what she can do—don't they? A lot of people." Norma Mendes moved uneasily, but she said nothing. Eve continued: "We have to do these things for her and we are doing these things for ourselves because our own lives may be threatened. I have been shot once. I love her like she is My own child, and I know you too, but let's be realistic, Norma. We could get killed because of her." Charlie felt her face heat with shame...and fear.Not for yourself but for them.What did she bring to their lives? "And it's not just about us and her. You must remember what that Tarkington said, and the file he showed us. It's about your brother and my nephew Fred, and—" "—and the ones in Poland," said Norma. "Maybe he's just bluffing at this point. Pray to God that's the case. It's hard for me to imagine anyone doing something that despicable." 诺玛忧郁他说道：“他们已经很卑鄙了。” “不管怎样。”伊夫说，“我们知道那些狗杂种是不会放过此事的。事情肯定要传开。诺玛，我想说的是传开后就一定要有结果。如果我们要采取行动，我希望是明智的一步。我不想把事告诉一家乡村小报，然后让他们得到风声再把事情压下去。他们做得出来。” “那我们还能怎么办呢？” 伊夫沉重他说：“这正是我一直在想的问题。一定要是他们想不到的一家报纸或杂志。它必须说真话，而且要是全国性的。 但最重要的是不能和政府有任何联系。 " “你是说不能和伊塔……”她直率地指出。 “是的。我就是这个意思。”伊夫开始喝茶了。恰莉躺在床上，倾听着，等待着。 ……我们的生活也会受到威胁……我已挨过一次枪子了…… 我爱她，就像她是我自己的孩子，我知道你也一样，但是我们得现实些，诺玛……我们可能因为她而被杀掉。 （不，请不要这样说，我．……） （我们可能因为她而被杀掉。就像她母亲因为她而被杀掉一样。） （不，求求你们请不要这样说。） （就像她父亲因为她而被杀掉。） （求求你们不要说了。） 泪水从恰莉眼中流出，流到耳朵里，流到枕头上。 “我们再好好想想。”诺玛最后说，“一定会有办法的，伊夫。” “是的。希望如此。” “与此同时。”她说，“我们还得希望不要有人发现她在这里。”她的声音忽然兴奋起来，“伊夫，也许我们得找个律师“明天再说吧。 ”他答道，“我累了，诺玛。至少目前还没人知道她在这儿。 " 但是有人知道。 而且这消息已经开始传播开去。 老光棍赫夫里滋大夫直到六十多岁的时候还一直和他的管家婆谢利·麦肯尼睡在一起。两人之间的性关系已是很久以前的事了：在赫夫里滋印象中，他们最后一次做爱大约已是在十四年酩了。但就是在那时，这看起来已有些不正常。但两人依然很亲密，事实上，随着性关系的结束，两人的友谊进一步加深，而且不再有情人间的那种磕磕绊绊。他们的友情变成了纯精神的关系、这种关系也许在极年少和极年老的异性之间才存在。 赫夫里滋将曼德斯农场的秘密保守了三个月之久。然而在二月份的一个晚上，喝过三杯酒的他和谢利（她在这个二月已年满七十五岁）看电视时，他把整个故事都告诉了她，并要求她起誓保守秘密。 就像卡普也许会告诉赫夫里滋大夫的那样，秘密的稳定性比U一235还要差，而且一旦告诉了别人，其稳定性更是成比例地下降。谢利·麦肯尼将秘密保守了大约一个月后，把它告诉了自己最要好的女朋友豪但斯·巴克利。十天之后，这秘密又从豪但斯嘴里传到了她最要好的女朋友克里斯汀·崔格耳朵里。而克里斯汀几乎立刻就把它告诉了自己的丈夫和她的好朋友们（一共三个）。 在小城镇里，“真理”就是这样传播开来的：在四月的那个晚上，当伊夫和诺玛进行他们被恰莉偷听到的谈话时，黑斯廷斯·格兰的许多人已知道他们家藏着一个神秘的小姑娘。人们的好奇心被大大激发了。嚼舌头的人在蠢蠢欲动。 终于，消息传到了不该听到的耳朵里。一部秘密电话被拨通了。 四月的最后一天，伊塔特工们再一次朝曼德斯农场逼来。这天，天下着毛毛细雨，这些特工像外星人一样穿着防火衣。在他们后面是一队国民警卫军。这些人对他们的任务一无所知，也不知道为什么要把他们派到纽约州这个安静的小镇黑斯廷斯·格兰。 他们发现了呆坐在厨房中的伊夫和诺玛·曼德斯。两人之间的桌子上摆着一张纸条。清晨五点伊夫起来去挤牛奶时发现了它。上面只有一行字：我想我知道该怎样去做。爱你们的恰莉。 她再次躲过了伊塔的追捕——但无论她在哪儿，她都是独自一人。 惟一的欣慰是这次她不用再搭车走很远的路。 图书馆管理员是个二十六岁的年轻人，留着胡子和长发。一个穿着绿衬衫和蓝色牛仔裤的小姑娘站在他的桌前，一只手里拿着一个购物纸袋。她瘦得可怕，那年轻人不禁好奇地想：她的父母给她吃的究竟是什么东西……也许什么都不给？ 他认真而礼貌地听完了她的问题。她说，她爸爸告诉她如果你有了什么难题，你都可以到图书馆找到答案，因为那里的人知道几乎所有问题的答案。他们身后的纽约公共图书馆的大厅里隐约回荡着他们的说话声。大门外面，那对大石狮仍在专注地观望着人间百态。 当她说完后，管理员扳着指头重复着她的重点。 “要讲真话。” She nodded. “一家大型的……也就是说全国范围的。” 她再次点点头。 “和政府没有任何联系。” 瘦小的女孩再次点点头。 “如果你不介意，能告诉我为什么吗？” “我”——她停顿了一下——“我要告诉他们一些事情。” 年轻人考虑了一会儿。他开口似乎要说话，然后又举起一根手指走开了。他和另外一个管理员商量了一会，回来后对那小女孩说了两个字。 “你可以把地址给我吗？她问。 他找到地址，把它仔细抄在一张黄色的纸条上。 “谢谢。”女孩说完转身要离开。 “等等。”他说，“你上次吃饭是什么时候，孩子？你需要点儿钱买顿午饭吗？” 她笑了——出人意料的甜密和温柔。有一刹那，那年轻的管理员几乎爱上了她。 “我有钱。”她说着打开纸袋给他看。 纸袋里装满了硬币。 他还没来得及说些什么一一问问她是不是敲碎了她的存钱罐一一一她已经走了出去。 小女孩坐着电梯来到了大楼的第十六层。几个和她一起乘坐电梯的男男女女好奇地看着她——一个穿着绿色衬衫，蓝色牛仔裤的小女孩，一只手捧着一个皱巴巴的纸袋，另一只手拿着一只桔子。但他们是纽约人，而纽约性格的精华就是各人自扫门前雪，莫管他人瓦上霜。 她走下电梯，看过指向标后，向左边走去。大厅尽头是一个很漂亮的接待室。大门的玻璃上写着那年轻管理员告诉她的那两个字。 恰莉在门外站了一会儿。 “我要这样做了，爸爸。”她喃喃道，“希望我没有做错。” 恰莉·麦克吉推开玻璃门，走进了《滚石）杂志的一间办公室。 接待员是个年轻女人，长着一双清澈的灰眼睛。她默默地看着恰莉，注意到了那纸袋。桔子和那女孩的瘦弱；她苗条得已几近病态，但对一个孩子来说个子却很高；脸上散发着一种平静。 安详的光芒。她会变得多漂亮啊，接待员想到。 “我能为你做些什么，小妹妹？”接待员微笑着问。 “我想见见为你们杂志写文章的人。”恰莉说道。她的声音不高，但清晰而坚定，“我有些事要说，还有些东西要让他们看看。” “就像在学校里的看图说话，呢？”接待员问道。 Charlie smiled.曾令那年轻管理员如此入迷的笑容。 ……是的。 ”她说，“我为此已等待了很长时间。 "