Chapter 52 Chapter 51

Every corner of Boulder was plastered with Ralph's poster announcing the meeting, and there was excited talk, mostly about whether the Special Committee of Seven was good or bad. Mama Abagil went to bed before dark, feeling exhausted.There was a steady stream of visits throughout the day, asking her attitude, and she agreed to most of the resolutions as she thought, because she thought the committee was good, and people were eager to know if she would be able to form a long-term committee at the General Assembly. She replied that it was a tiring job, but that she would give all possible help to a committee of elected representatives when people needed her help.She assured over and over that any long-term committee that refused her help would turn out to be a mess.Mama Abagil rested, tired but content.

So did Nick Andros that night, and in one day, with a hand-cranked mimeograph poster, he transformed a straggling contingent of refugees into potential voters in the State of the Liberty .They loved the poster, it gave them a grounded feel after a long period of free fall. That afternoon Ralph drove to the power plant.Ralph and Stu decided to have a preliminary meeting at Stu and Franny's the day after tomorrow.This would give the full committee two more days to hear from the crowd. Nick smiled and held his useless ears. "Lip-reading is better," Stu said. "You know, Nick, I'm starting to think about those brown bikes, and we're gonna get something done. That Brad Kitchener's a hard worker, and if we had Ten guys like him, and by September 1st we can have this whole city running very well."

Nick made an OK gesture in agreement, and they walked into the house together. That afternoon Larry Underwood and Leo Rockaway walked west along the road to Harold's house.Larry still carried the same canvas bag that had accompanied him all over the country, but now it contained only a bottle of wine and half a dozen chocolate pop wrappers. Lucy and 6 other guys went out with two broken trucks and they started clearing the streets of Boulder, it was full of cars, the problem was, they were doing it all by themselves and this scattered project needed to rely on Response and participation of others.

Larry wondered, eyes saw a poster titled "Mass Meeting", which was taped to a telephone pole, maybe this was the answer to the question.People here want to work, they need someone to coordinate and organize, to tell them what to do, he thought, most of them want to erase everything that happened here in the early summer, like erasing dirty words on a blackboard.Larry figured it might not be possible in all of America, but it should be possible in Boulder before the snow, weather permitting. Glancing at the light reflected in the glass, he turned to see Leo quickly picking up a rock and throwing it through the rear window of an old Ford.

"Come on, Joe." "I'm Leo." "Leo," he corrected. "do not do that." "Why?" Leo said triumphantly, and for a while Larry couldn't think of a satisfactory answer. "Because it makes a harsh sound," was all he had to say at last. They move on.Larry put his hands in his pockets, and Leo put his hands in his pockets too.Larry kicked an empty soda can, and Leo kicked a pebble sideways.Larry began to blow a tune, and Leo whistled to the accompaniment.Larry brushed the boy's hair.Leo looked at him strangely.Larry thought: My God!I'm in love with this guy, and I can't put it down a bit.

They came to the park Franny had mentioned, opposite a green house with white shutters.A wheelbarrow full of bricks was parked on the concrete path leading to the front door, and next to the front door was a scrap can of that homemade mortar mix that required water. Squatting beside him was a young man with his back to the street, broad shoulders, shirtless, and sunburned. With a shovel in one hand, he was making a curved low wall around the flower bed. Larry remembered what Franny had said: He's changed—I don't know what he's become, why, or even if it's for the best—and sometimes I worry.

So Larry stepped forward and said, in the way he had planned while crossing the country, "I guess you're Harold Lauder?" Harold shuddered in surprise, and turned, holding the brick in one hand and the shovel dripping with plaster half-raised in the other, as if holding a weapon.Out of the corner of his eye Larry caught Leo taking a step back.His first thought was pretty sure that Harold wasn't looking at him at all.This is different from what he imagined.His second thought had to do with the shovel: would he let that dripping household item fall on me?Harold's face was serious, his eyes were narrow and dark; his hair was wavy against his sweat-soaked brow; his lips were tight and pale.

Immediately afterwards, Harold laughed heartily, and without malice.The transformation was so sudden and complete that Larry could hardly believe afterwards that he had ever seen a tense, serious, unsmiling Harold, a face more likely to distinguish himself from others than the walls around the flower beds. separate. His eyes no longer had that malevolent look (they were dark green, how could such bright eyes look malicious, even dark?) He plunged the shovel point down into the mud, hands in his jeans. Wiped the back pocket, then stretched out.Larry thought: My God!He was a child, younger than me.If he's over 18, I'll eat the candles from his birthday cake last year.

"I don't seem to know you," Harold said with a smile as he shook hands. His handshake was strong, and Larry's hand was shaken up and down three or four times, and it reminded Larry of the handshake he'd had with George Bush, when the old man was running for president.It was a political rally he attended, on his mother's advice.His mother used to say, if you can't watch movies, go to the zoo.If you don't have enough money to visit a zoo, go see a politician. Harold's laugh was contagious, and Larry laughed too.Whether he was a kid or not, whether the handshake could be called a politician's or not, Larry was so impressed by his smile that he believed it was genuine.After such a long time, after getting those candy wrappers, a real Harold finally stood in front of him.

"Yes, you don't know me, but I know you." "Yes!" said Harold loudly.He smiled wider. If he had smiled brighter, Larry thought amusedly, the corners of his mouth would have touched the back of his skull, and two-thirds of his head would have been knocked off. "I followed you across the country from Maine to come here." "Really? Have you really been following me?" "It's true." He lowered the backpack from his shoulders. "Here's something for you." He took out a bottle of portel and put it in Harold's hand. "God, why do you have this thing." Harold looked at the bottle in surprise and said, "1947?"

"A good year, and all that." He put nearly half a dozen chocolate lollipops in Harold's other hand.One of them slipped through the fingers and slid onto the grass.Harold bent down to pick it up, and Larry saw Harold's initial shock again. Then Harold straightened up and said with a smile, "How do you know?" "I follow in your footsteps—your candy wrappers." "I should go to hell, come in the house, we should have a good talk, like my dad said, want two Cokes?" "Yes, what about you, Leo?" "Hey, Leo! How about a Coke?" Leo grunted, and Larry didn't hear what he was saying. "Talk," he was a little annoyed, "Why did God give you a voice? I'm asking you, do you want a Coke?" Leo said in a barely audible voice, "I want to see if Mama Nadina is back." "What are you talking about, we just got here!" "I want to go back!" Leo replied, looking up.The sun shone fiercely in his eyes. Larry thought: God, what's going on, he's about to cry. "Wait a minute, please," Larry said to Harold. "Okay, kids can be shy sometimes, and I used to be." Larry walked over to Leo, bending down so he could look him in the eye. "What's the matter, my dear boy?" "I just want to go home," Leo said, avoiding his gaze. "I want Mama Nadina." "I want to go back." Leo gave him a quick look.The gaze jumped over Larry's shoulder to the middle of the lawn where Harold was standing, and then to the concrete. "Please." "You don't like Harold?" "I don't know...he's fine...I just want to go back." Larry sighed. "Can you find your way back?" "no problem." "Okay, but I wish you'd come in and have a Coke with us. I've been looking forward to meeting Harold, you know that, don't you?" "Yes...uh..." "I don't want to go in," Leo whispered, and for a moment he was brave again, his eyes blank and savage. "Okay." Larry said in a hurry, he stood up, "Go straight back, I will go to check the room, see if you have done what I said, don't stay on the road." "I see," Leo whispered suddenly impulsively. "Why don't you come back with me? Right now, let's go together, okay? Larry? Okay?" "Leo, what?" "Never mind." Before Larry could say anything, Leo ran away in a hurry. Larry stood there watching him, and turned around until he couldn't see him, his brows were tightly furrowed. "Look, it's all right," said Harold, "children are always naughty." "Yes, I think he has the right to decide whether to stay or not. One thing is for sure, he has been tortured for half a day." "I suppose so," Harold answered.At this moment, a tinge of distrust rose in Larry, feeling that Harold's sympathy for a little boy so quickly was contrived. "Okay, come in, you know. You are my first partner. Franny and Stu often go out, so it doesn't count." He smiled slightly, a little sad. Larry felt a sudden sympathy for the lad—because he was no different himself, he was alone, and so was Harold, and it wasn't fair to jump to conclusions about people without evidence.He should put this damn suspicion aside. "I'm glad to be your partner." The living room is small but comfortable. "When I get free, I'm going to get some new furniture, modern, chrome, leather, as advertised, what the fuck budget, I've hit the ace." Larry laughed heartily. "There's some good wine in the cellar, I'll get some, I don't think sugar cubes, if you think it's okay. I'm not eating sweets now, and I'm trying to lose weight. But this time I can have some glucose, which is a special case. You and I crossed the country from Maine, followed by my, no, our common mark. It's worth talking about, tell me what it is. Well, sit in that green chair, that's the best of all this shit Alright." As Harold said these words, Larry had a last doubting thought: Harold talked like a statesman--smooth and eloquent. Harold went to the cellar, and Larry sat in the green chair.He heard a door knock, and then Harold's heavy footsteps coming down the stairs.He looks around.It's not exactly one of the best living rooms in the world, but with a plush rug and some nice modern furniture, it would be quite nice.The most distinctive feature of the house is the fireplace and chimney made of stone-delicate and beautiful handicrafts.But one of the stones was loose on the fireplace, as if it had been dropped and then slipped in at will.Like a piece falling out of a jigsaw puzzle, or like a painting hanging crookedly on the wall. He stood up and picked out the stone, which Harold was still looking for downstairs.Just as Larry was about to put the stone back, he suddenly saw a book under the hearth. The cover was covered with a thin layer of dust, but it did not cover the title of the book printed on the golden title page: Ledger. Larry felt a little ashamed, as if he was looking at it intentionally, and he put the stone back in its place. At this time, Harold came upstairs with the sound of footsteps.The timing was perfect this time, and Larry had just returned to his chair when Harold came in with two big-bellied, narrow-necked bottles. "It took me a few minutes to get them out of the trough downstairs and they were covered in dirt." "Looks good, look, I can't guarantee that the portel is not bad, we two have a good drink." "No risk, no gain," said Harold, laughing. Harold's laugh made him feel uncomfortable, and Larry suddenly found himself thinking about the "ledger"—was it Harold's, or did it belong to the original owner of the house?If it was Harold's, what would be written in it? They uncapped the bottle, and to their delight the wine was still in good order, and half an hour later they were all a little groggy.Harold was even more drunk.Still, Harold smiled, more broadly, in fact. Larry became talkative because of the drink. "Those posters, about the meeting on the 18th, why don't you join that committee, Harold? I think a lad like you would be an ideal candidate." Harold smiled happily and said, "I'm so young, I guess they don't think I have enough experience." "That's abominable," was Harold inexperienced?Larry thought, that smile, that look of dark suspicion, Larry couldn't figure it out. "Well, who knows what the future holds?" Harold said with a laugh. "Everyone has their day." At around five o'clock Larry left, saying a friendly goodbye to Harold, who shook his hand with a smile and told him to come back more often.But Larry had a feeling that Harold wouldn't care if he never came again. He walked slowly along the cement path to the sidewalk, turned and waved goodbye, but Harold had already gone back into the house.It must have been cool in the room with the door closed, for the shutters were drawn.Everything looked fine inside, and standing outside it suddenly felt like it was just a house in Boulder that he had been in, with the shutters and curtains drawn, and of course he thought, Boulder had a lot of windows closed house.That is the grave of the dead.When they are sick, they shut themselves off from the world with a curtain.They will die quietly, like any animal that likes to die alone when it is near death.The living—perhaps subconsciously aware of the fact of death—will close the windows and curtains. The wine did its part, and he felt a headache in his head, thinking that the shudder just now was the result of the stamina of the wine, the result of binge drinking good wine as if it were cheap.No, no, it's not just because of the wine, he lowers his head for a while, and raises his head for a while, always thinking about messy things. His mind was in turmoil, and he was suddenly convinced that Harold was peering at him through the cracks in the shutters, hands clasped and opened and closed as if strangling; Day.” And then he remembered the night in Bennington, sleeping on the wooden platform, and waking up with a horrible feeling that someone was there—then he heard the sound of boots trampling ashes, go west. Stop and stop fantasizing. God, make it stop, if I never think about the dead behind closed shutters and curtains.Like staying in a dark tunnel, man, what if they start moving together.Holy Lord.Don't make me think that way again. Suddenly he remembered the experience of going to the zoo with his mother when he was a child.They went to Monkey Mountain, and the smell was like a heavy punch, hitting him on the nose and inside.He turned to run away, but was stopped by his mother. Breathe normally, Larry, she said, and in five minutes you won't notice the smell at all. So he just stayed there and didn't believe her and just tried not to throw up (even though he was only 7 years old then throwing up was the thing he hated the most) and she was right.When he looked down at his watch, it had been half an hour, and he couldn't understand why the ladies put their hands to their noses and looked disgusted when they entered the door.He told this to his mother.Alice Underwood laughed. "Oh, it still doesn't smell good, it's just that you're used to it." "How come, Mommy?" "I don't know, everyone can do that, now say to yourself, I'm going to smell this monkey cage again. And then you take a deep breath." So he did it, and the strange smell still existed, even stronger and more unpleasant than when they first came in.The food he had eaten began to churn in his stomach, and he struggled to the door, took a few breaths of fresh air outside, tried, but it was impossible to suppress the food. It was a perception, he thought now, and she knew what it was.Even though she didn't know what it was called, before the idea was formed, he heard her mother say, saying to himself, "I want to smell what Boulder really smells like." He sniffed it, like just now Same, he smelled it, he smelled it behind closed windows and drawn curtains, he smelled something slowly rotting, even in this place, some of it was dead. He walked faster and faster, nearly trotting all the way, smelling the strong smell of fruit, he and everyone else stopped to smell it curiously, because it is omnipresent and omnipotent, it colors people's thoughts, you The curtains are not drawn, not even during lovemaking, because the dead lie behind the drawn screens and the living still want to look out at the world. All the things he ate wanted to go up, because this was a monkey cage that he would never be able to get rid of, even if he moved to an uninhabited desert island, it would be useless.As much as he hated throwing up, he was about to throw up now. "How are you, Larry?" Startled, he let out a small cry from his throat.It was Leo, sitting on the railing about three blocks from Harold.Still holding a ping pong ball in his hand and patting on the road. "What are you doing here?" Larry's heartbeat slowly returned to normal. "I want to go home with you," "but I don't like going into that guy's house," he said timidly. "Why not?" "I have no idea." "It's important to me because I like Harold--but don't like him. I have one or two feelings for him. Have you ever had two feelings for a person?" "I have only one feeling for people." "what is that?" "It's holy, can we go home and see Mama Nadina and Mama Lucy?" "certainly." They continued walking along the Arapach for a while without speaking to each other, Leo still slapping the ping-pong ball before catching it deftly. "Sorry for making you wait so long, if I knew you were here, I would have come earlier." "I have something to do anyway, I found this on this guy's lawn, ping pong." "Why do you think Harold drew down the curtains?" "That way no one can see inside, so he can do secret things and stay undetected like a dead man. Isn't it?" They went on, at the corner of Broadway, and turned south again, and now they saw figures; women admiring dresses in the window; Fishing tackle is selected in the broken window of the shop.Larry saw Dick Wollman leaving his group and cycling off in another direction.He waved to Larry and Leo, who waved back. "Secret stuff," Larry said aloud thoughtfully, not really wanting Leo to say anything more. "Maybe he's praying to the man in black," Leo said offhandedly, and Larry shuddered as if he'd been brushed by a live wire.But Leo didn't notice.He's still slapping his ping pong ball, bouncing it on the road, then catching it when it bounces... bang, bang! "You really think so?" Larry tried to look natural. "I don't know. But he's not like us. He laughs a lot, but I feel like there are worms making him laugh, big white worms like maggots sucking his brains out." "Joe...Leo, I mean..." Leo's eyes were dark and suddenly brightened up. He smiled and said, "Look, Dana is over there. I like her. Hey, Dana!" He shouted and waved, "Is there any chewing gum?" Dana, who was oiling the chain on a ten-speed bicycle, turned and smiled, reached into her shirt pocket and pulled out five pieces.Leo ran over laughing, hair flying, one hand still clutching the ball.Larry was watching him from behind, the big white bug hiding behind Harold's smile - how could Joe (no, Leo) have such a thought, so worldly, so horrible.The kid was in a semi-hypnotic state, and how many times he'd been there when Larry saw people stop and die on the road, blank-eyed and dazed, but then everything returned to normal in a moment.Everything has changed, and the range of human perception seems to have taken a step forward. It's just as scary as hell. Larry moved over to Leo and Dana, who were sharing gum. That afternoon Stu found Franny doing laundry in the small courtyard behind the building.She filled the laundry tank with water, poured nearly half a box of washing powder, and stirred it with a mop stick until the tank was full of foam.She didn't know if it was right to do so.But go to Mama Abagil and look so ignorant, and she'll be blamed.She dipped the clothes in the icy cold water and began to scrub, like a bunch of tangled Sicilian grapes.She thought, this method of scrubbing on both sides perfectly preserves the bright colors of the clothes without damaging the soft underwear, and... She turned and looked at her man, who was standing just behind the backyard door, watching her amusedly.Franny stopped what she was doing, a little out of breath. "Ha, ha, that's interesting, you self-righteous guy, how long have you been standing here?" "Two minutes. But what do you call that? A duck mating dance?" She appeared very nonchalant. "Another crack. Tonight you sleep on the sofa, or stay with your friend Glenn on Flagstaff Street." "Look, I didn't mean that..." "These are your clothes too, Mr. Stu. You may be a veteran, but you leave something on your drawers now and then." Stu's smile slowly unfolded, and finally he couldn't help laughing, "My dear, you are too vulgar." "Right now I don't feel particularly vulnerable." "Okay, take a break, I need to talk to you." She'd be happy, though she'd have to sprint before entering the house.Her heart was pounding, she was obedient, like a faithful machine.Being abused maliciously.My great-grandmother would have done the same, perhaps seeing it as part of the compensation for taking the risk. He looked down at his feet and calves, a little despondently, covered with a layer of gray lather, which she washed with water in disgust. "When my wife does the laundry," said Stu, "she uses a—what do you call that? Yes, a washboard, and I remember my mother had three." "I know that thing," Franny said angrily. "Joan and I looked all over Boulder and couldn't find one. The tech workers are on strike." He laughed again. Franny put her hands behind her back. "Are you trying to piss me off, Stuart Redman?" "No, I was thinking where to get you a washboard, and if Joan wants one, give her one too." "Where?" "You let me see first." His smile disappeared, and he put his arms around her and pressed his forehead to her forehead, "You know I appreciate you doing my laundry, I think a pregnant woman is better than her Men know better what to do and what not to do, Frannie, why let those clothes bother you?" She looked at him in confusion, "Why? Well, what are you wearing then? Do you want to walk around in these clothes?" "Frannie, the store is full of clothes, and my size is easy to buy." "What, throwing away old clothes because they're dirty?" He shrugged nervously. "No way," she said. "That's the old fashioned way, Stu, like they used to put your computer case and those non-recyclable bottles in and throw it away when you're done with it. You can't start that over again." He kissed her, "Okay, next time I do the laundry, I'll do it. Do you hear me?" "Okay," she smiled suspiciously, "how long can you last until I have a baby?" "Until we have electricity, then I'll get you the biggest and most beautiful washing machine you've ever seen, and I'll do the laundry." "I accept help." She kissed him deeply.He ran his big strong hands through her hair and she felt a warmth spread (it was heat, let's not be shy, I felt hot, every time he did it, I felt hot all over) first on the breasts On, slowly spread to the lower abdomen. "You'd better stop," she gasped, "unless you don't just want to talk." "Maybe we can talk later." "Those clothes..." "An extra soak will help wash off the plaster that seeps into your clothes." She started laughing, and he sealed her mouth with a kiss, as he lifted her and lowered her, and ushered her into the house , she was moved by the warmth of the sun on her shoulders, and she wondered, had it ever been this hot before?Is it that strong?Every ray, every ray of sunlight hits my back—could it be UV rays?Or is it because of the altitude?Is it like this every summer?Always so hot? Then he started to get his hands on, right there on the stairs, undressing her and making love to her. "No, you sit down," he said. "but……" "That's what I mean, Franny." "Stu, those clothes freeze, and I put half a box of Tide in there." "don’t worry." So she sat on the chair in the shade of the eaves where he had put the two chairs when they came downstairs.Stu took off his shoes and socks and rolled his trousers over his knees.He walked to the trough step by step and began to scrub the clothes up and down.She couldn't help laughing. Stu looked at her and said, "Would you like to spend the night in a chair?" "No, Stu," she said gravely and penitently.Then he laughed again, until tears flowed from his laughter, and the muscles in his stomach ached.She restrained herself from laughing and said, "This is the third and last time. You want to talk about something when you come back." "Oh, yes," he was rubbing the clothes up and down, getting foam all over the place, and Franny thought: This really looks like... oh, don't think about it, or you'll have a miscarriage laughing. "We're having our first special committee meeting tonight." "I have prepared two cases of beer, biscuits, and pepper sauce..." "I'm not saying that, Frannie, Dick Ellis said today that he doesn't want to be on the committee." "Really?" She was a little surprised, thinking that Dick was not the kind of person who escaped responsibility. "He said he would be happy to help if we had a real doctor, but not now, 25 more came today and one of them had a gangrene in his leg. Apparently festering from being cut by a rusty wire." "Oh, that's too bad." "Dick saved her—he did it with the tall nurse who came with Underwood. Dick said that without her, yes, her name was Laurie Constable, the woman would have died long ago. It took them three hours to amputate the woman's leg at the knee, and they were exhausted. Also, they had a little patient, a boy, who was always having fits of convulsions. Dick was trying to figure out what it was The goats were also caused by some kind of cranial pressure, perhaps as a result of diabetes. They found boxes of poisoned food spoiled in people's stuff. If we don't tell people how to pick what they need soon, some people will suffer from it. Killed. Let's see, where did I go? Two broken arms, a flu case..." "My God, you mean the flu!" "Relax, it's a common cold, aspirin brings down the fever, it doesn't sweat—and it doesn't come back. There's no dark spots on the neck either. But Dick wasn't sure what antibiotic to take, and he looked around, Dick was a little afraid that the flu would spread and cause people to panic." "Who is that flu patient?" "A lady named Lorna Hewell, she came with Laramie, and Dick said the germs had festered." Franny nodded. "We're lucky that Laurie Constable seems to have Dick captivated, even though he's twice her age. That's okay." "Do you approve of them being together?" He smiled and said, "Anyway, he's 48 years old, has a mild heart attack, and now he thinks he's done everything—he's learning to be a doctor." Ni, "I can understand Laurie, why I fell in love with him. He is a hero around us. He is a country doctor, not afraid to kill the patient, and he knows that many people will come to the doctor every day, some of whom have been carelessly It's been dealt with." "The committee still needs staff." "Yes. Ralph Brentner thinks that Larry Underwood boy is all right. From what you say, he can help." "Yes, I think he's all right. I ran into his wife today, Lucy Swan, and she's sweet and all about Larry." "I think every good woman is like that. But Frannie, to tell you the truth, I don't like it when he tells everybody about his life." "I think it's just because I was with Harold from the beginning and Harold couldn't understand that I was with you instead of him." "I wonder what he thinks of Harold." "Go ask him." "I will." "Will you ask him to sit on the committee?" "It's very unlikely." He stood up. "I'd rather invite the old guy who is called the judge, but he is too old. He is 70 years old." "Have you talked to him about Harold?" "No, but Dick talked to him, and Nick Andros was a smart guy, Franny. He made a difference for me and Gran. Gran was a bit uneasy, but he had to admit that Nick had a good idea. .The judge told Nick that Larry was exactly the kind of man we were looking for. He said Larry was looking for work, and he was sure to find a lot of good work." "I think he was recommending Larry highly." "Yes," said Stu, "but before I ask him to come, I want to find out what he thinks of Harold." "What about Harold?" she kept asking. "Maybe ask about you, Franny, do you still feel responsible for him?" "Really? I don't know. But I feel a little guilty when I think about him." "Why? Because I got involved? Did you ever want him, Franny?" "No, no, God, no," she almost trembled. "I lied to him once, well, it wasn't really a lie, the day the three of us met, it was July 4th. I think he probably sensed what was going to happen. I said I don't want you .How would I know then if I want you? It's love at first sight in a novel, but in real life..." He stopped, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "What are you laughing at, Stu Redman?" "I just thought, in real life, it took me at least..." He stroked his chin and thought, "Oh, four hours to figure out if I want you." She kissed him on the cheek, "It's sweet." "Anyway, it's the truth, and I think he still remembers what I said about not wanting you." "He never said anything bad about you or anyone else." "No, he always laughs, which I don't like." "You don't think he's... seeking revenge?" Stu stood up with a smile. "No, Harold won't. Grant thinks the opposition will end up gathering around Harold. That's fine. I just hope he doesn't interfere with what we're doing now." "Think how scared and lonely he is." "How jealous." "Jealous?" She thought for a moment, then shook her head. "I don't think so. I've talked to him. I want to know that he doesn't feel abandoned. I think he expects to be on special committees—it's Nick's job." One of the so-called simple program decisions, we all follow this principle, the essence is that we don't trust him." She said: "In Ogunquit, he was the most intolerable person you could imagine, mostly because of his family situation, I guess - to them he was like hatching out of a chicken coop. - After a flu, he seemed to change. At least to me. He looked like he was trying to be a, uh... real man. And then he changed all of a sudden, always smiling. You didn't You can't talk to him, he's talking to himself... as one does before religion or when reciting..." She stopped suddenly, a look of astonishment flashed in her eyes, as if she was a little scared. "Recite what?" “一些能改变他们生活的东西，比如《资本论》之类的，或许只是在诠释情书。” "what are you saying?" “嗯？”她看了看他，像刚从白日梦中惊醒过来。她笑着说：“没什么，你不是要看拉里·安德伍德吗？” “当然……如果你没事的话。” “我很好……去吧，斯图，会议7点开始，如果快的话，你还有时间回来先吃点晚饭。” "OK." 他走到把前院和后院分开的大门时，她在后面叫住他：“别忘了问问他对哈罗德怎么看？” “别担心，我不会忘的。” “他回答时，看着他的眼睛，斯图。” 当斯图随意谈起对哈罗德的印象时（这时斯图还只字未提特别委员会有空缺的事），拉里·安德伍德的眼神变得有些困惑，小心翼翼的。 “法兰妮告诉过你我对哈罗德有些偏执，是吧？” "yes." 拉里和斯图坐在一座小房子的客厅，外面的厨房里露西正在忙乎着做饭，放在拉里为她装配的烤架上的罐头正冒着热气。她边干活边哼着“夜总会的女人”这首歌，听起来她很快活。 斯图点了支烟，他一天吸烟不超过五六支，他可不愿意让迪克给他做肺癌手术。 “跟随哈罗德的那些时间里，我一直告诉自己他也许不是我想象的那样。他不是那样，但我还是想弄清楚他到底是怎样的，他像魔鬼一样快乐，是个好主人。他把我带去的葡萄酒打开，我们一起为健康干杯。我们度过了一段很愉快的时光，但是——” "but what?" “我们从他身后走过去，我和利奥，他正在花园周围砌一道砖墙，他转过身——没听到我们的脚步声，一直到我开口说话，我猜想，一刹那，我心里想，天啊，这个家伙会杀了我。” 露西走到过道，问道：“斯图，坐下来一起吃饭吧，这儿很多。” “不了，谢谢，露西，下次吧。” “你来就是问问哈罗德的情况？”拉里问。 “不，我来是想问问你是否愿意在特别委员会任职，我们中的一个小伙子，迪克·埃利斯退出了。” “这样啊？”拉里走到窗前，看着寂寥的街道，“我想做个隐士。” “你自己拿主意，我们还需要人手，有人推荐你。” “谁，如果你不介意的话……” “我问了一圈，法兰妮觉得你合适，尼克·安德罗斯与那个查理斯法官也说到了你。” 拉里看起来挺高兴，“法官推荐我，嗯，这太好了，你知道，你们应该要他，他人很聪明。” “尼克也这么说，但他已经70岁了，我们的医疗设备还很落后。” 拉里转身看着斯图，含笑说：“这个委员会，不会像它看起来那样短命吧！” 斯图笑微微有些放松。他还是不太确定拉里这人怎么样，但很明显这家伙昨儿没在干草垛上睡着，“好了，让我们这么说，我们希望我们的委员会能经得起选举，成为一支完整的队伍。” “完全同意，”他看着斯图，很友好，但很尖锐，“我能给你倒瓶啤酒吗？” “我最好不喝，前两天和格兰·贝特曼多喝了些。法兰妮挺有耐心，但她的耐心也有限度。怎么样，拉里，参加吗？” “我想……是的，我想不出这世上还有什么事能比这更让我快乐，请原谅，我说话太笨了。” “我们今晚在我那有一个小会议，为18号的大会做准备，你来吗？” “当然，我能带上露西吗？” 斯图摇了摇头，“不能对她透露，我们想暂时保密。” 拉里的笑容消失了，“我不喜欢搞特务活动，斯图，我最好开诚布公地提出来，免得以后争吵。我认为6月所发生的一切就是因为太多的人都在保守秘密。那不是上帝的旨意，那是一场纯粹的人为的把戏。” “这是件你不愿同妈妈谈起的事情。”斯图仍微笑着，“事情发生时，我跟你想的一样，但若这是战争时期，你仍会这么认为吗？” "I don't understand you." “我们梦见的那个人，我怀疑他是不是已经离开了。” 拉里一脸惊诧，在想着什么。 “格兰说他能理解为什么没人谈论那事，”斯图接着说，“尽管我们受到过警告。这儿的人们仍患着战斗疲劳症，他们觉得经受了地狱磨难才来到这里，他们想做的就是舔舔伤口，把死者埋葬，但若是阿巴盖尔妈妈在这里，那人就会在别处。”斯图把头扭向窗子，正面映着盛夏光晕中升起的弗拉蒂龙斯的美景，“这里的大部分人不会想到他，我打赌他在想我们。” 拉里望着通往厨房的过道，露西已出去和简·霍维顿聊天去了。 “你认为他跟在我们后面？”他小声说，“这是饭前的好想法，对胃口有好处。” “拉里，我自己对任何事情都不能肯定。但阿巴盖尔妈妈说这不会结束，直到我们捉住他或者他捉住我们。” “我希望她没有到处宣传，这些人会奔向倒霉的澳大利亚。” “我想你没隐瞒什么。” “是的，但这……”拉里停了下来，斯图和蔼地笑着，拉里也苦笑了一下，“好吧，按你说的办，我们商量一下，嘴巴要紧一点儿。” “好，7点见。” "no problem." 他们一起向门口走去，“再次感谢露西的邀请，我和法兰妮不久就来做客。”斯图说道。 斯图走到门口的时候，拉里叫住了他。 斯图转过身来，想知道是什么事情。 “那有一个男孩，从缅因和我们一起来的，叫利奥·罗克威，他有点问题。露西和我发现他和一个叫纳迪娜·克罗斯的人在一起，纳迪娜自己也有些不正常，你知道吗？” 斯图点点头，拉里和他的人进来前，有人在谈论阿巴盖尔妈妈和那女人间的一件小事。 “纳迪娜在我们遇到他们之前一直照顾利奥，利奥是那类能看透人的孩子。他是唯一有这本领的人。也许总有这样的人，但自从流感发生后，这样的事看起来多了些。利奥——他不愿到哈罗德房子里，也不愿呆在草坪上，这挺有趣，不是吗？” “确实挺有意思。” 他们相互会意地看了一下，然后斯图回家去吃饭。法兰妮做饭时似乎全神贯注，很少开口。当她把最后一道菜放在装满热水的塑料桶里时，人们一个接一个地来了，来参加自由之邦特别委员会的第一次会议。 斯图去拉里那里时，法兰妮匆匆地跑到楼上的卧室，在壁橱的拐角处有一个睡袋，她在穿越这个国家时，就把它挂在摩托车后面。她把自己的私人物品放在一个小牛仔包里，现在这些物品分散放置在她和斯图共有的这间公寓里，但有一小部分还没找到地方放，只得放在睡袋里面，其中有些瓶瓶罐罐，她父母死后，她得上了突发性皮疹，但现在控制住了——还有一盒迷你方便护垫，以免她感染（她听说怀孕的妇女有时会这样）。两盒便宜雪茄，一盒上写着：生男孩，另一盒上写着：生女孩！最后一件是她自己的日记。 她把日记抽出来，审视着，自从来到博尔德，她只记了八九次，每次篇幅都很短，几乎是能省就省。她想有些后悔。后四天里她根本就未打开日记，甚至怀疑那些日记会最终从她的头脑中全都溜走，尽管她尽力在一切就绪时能使它保持尽可能的完整。全为了这孩子。现在那些日记再一次占据了她的思想。 突然间日记在她手里有了份量，就是合上那硬皮本也会累得她眉头冒汗。 她突然转身看过去，心跳得很厉害。有什么东西在动。 可能是一只老鼠在墙后作崇。不会有别的东西。有可能只是她的想象，她没有任何理由突然想到那个拿着衣架、穿着黑袍的人。她的宝宝非常安全。这只不过是一本书，没法判断是否有人读过，就是有办法，我们也不知道读它的人是否就是哈罗德·劳德。 她静静地打开这本书，开始一页页慢慢翻阅，刚刚过去的一幕幕在她眼前闪现。像业余爱好者拍下的黑白照片。思想的家庭影院。 （日记）今晚我们都在欣赏他们，哈罗德继续谈论着颜色、质地和弹性，斯图向我忧郁地挤了挤眼，我也向他挤了挤眼。 哈罗德当然会反对一般原则，见鬼吧，哈罗德，你还嫩了点！ ——我看到他已准备好了一番哈罗德。劳德式的评论。（我的上帝，法兰妮，你为什么会这样说哈罗德？为什么呢？） （日记）好了，你了解哈罗德……他爱吹牛……说话自负……是个不可靠的小男孩…… 那是7月12日，她飞快地翻过那一页，匆匆忙忙地翻到最后。那些片段依然冒出头来，击打着她： （日记）无论如何，哈罗德看起来焕然一新了——今夜他的呼吸会赶跑一条龙——还有另一件事，看来像不祥之兆；他收藏受挫的经历，如同是个人的宝藏。 但为什么目的呢？是为满足他那隐藏的优越感和困扰吗？还是一种惩罚？ （日记）噢，他在列名单，并反复核查了两次——他想找出来——谁淘气，谁可爱…… 接着是8月1日，两星期前，篇头从那一页下几行开始。 （日记）昨晚没写日记，我太高兴了，我曾这么开心过吗？我想没有。我和斯图在一起，我们…… 一页结束，她翻到下一页，那一页的最顶头的几个字是：做爱两次。但这并没有引起她的注意，直到她扫到这页的中间。除了一些女性本能的胡说八道之外，还有一样东西吸引了她的目光，惊得她目瞪口呆。 那是一个黑黑的抹污了的指印。 她狂乱地想着：我整天都骑在摩托上，一有机会就会注意把自己洗干净，但这手怎么会这么脏？ 她伸出手，一点也不奇怪它在剧烈地抖动着。她把大拇指放在污迹上，那污迹要比她的拇指大得多。 当然会是这样的，一点也不奇怪，她自言自语道，当你涂抹的时候，自然面积要大些，这就是原因，就是这么一回事…… 但这拇指印并没有怎么涂抹，那一条条线和指纹还清晰可见。 这指纹上没有油污之类的东西，自欺欺人是毫无用处的。 是干了的巧克力渣。 巧克力棒棒糖，法兰妮难受地想，是裹着巧克力的巧克力棒棒糖。 刹那间她有些害怕回头——害怕哈罗德那张带着笑容的脸会浮现在眼前，就像《艾丽斯》里的那只猫在满脸堆笑。哈罗德的厚嘴唇在挪动着，他严肃地说：凡人皆有得意日，法兰妮，凡人皆有得意日。 但是就算哈罗德偷看了她的日记，也不一定意味着他在设计报复她和斯图，或是任何其他人？ 但哈罗德已经全变了，内心的一个声音轻诉着。 “见鬼吧，他没变那么多！”她大声冲着空屋里喊着，起先被自己的声音吓了一跳，接着大哭起来，她走向楼梯开始准备晚饭。因为晚上有会议，他们得早点吃饭。但会议突然间显得不像以前那么重要了。 摘自特别委员会会议备忘录： 1990年8月13日 会议在斯图·雷德曼和法兰妮·戈德史密斯的公寓召开，全体委员会成员出席会议，他们是：斯图尔特·雷德曼，法兰妮·戈德史密斯，尼克·安德罗斯，格兰·贝特曼，拉尔夫·布伦特纳，苏珊·斯特恩和拉里·安德伍德…… 斯图·雷德曼被选为会议主席，法兰妮·戈德史密斯被选为秘书…… 这些备注（还有每一声打嗝的声音，都被录在机子上了，为防止有哪个人会好奇地想听一听，它将被放到博尔德镇第一银行的保险柜里。 斯图·雷德曼展示了一张印着迪克·埃利斯和劳里·康斯特布尔撰写的关于有毒食品的单面海报，说迪克要求把它印出来，并在大会之前贴满博尔德的大街小巷。因为已有15起食物中毒的事件，有两起相当严重。委员会表决，全体通过，由拉尔夫负责复印1000份，找十几个帮手把它们贴出去。 苏珊·斯特恩指出迪克和劳里还有另一项议题想在会上提出来。他们认为应该有一个葬礼委员会；迪克的观点是这应该被列入群众大会的日程上，且不应只作为一项健康危机被提出，因为这可能会引起恐慌——而应作为一项重要事情来做。我们都知道现在的人口比瘟疫前人口数目少了许多，但我们不知道为什么——现在这已不那么重要了，但是如果我们还只是呆在这里的话，还会有成千上万的人死去。 斯图询问目前这个问题有多严重，苏珊回答说在秋天到来之前不会非常严重，到秋天天气才会由干热而转向潮湿。 拉里提议加上迪克的建议，把建立葬礼委员会作为大会的一项议程。提议由全体通过。 尼克·安德罗斯被许可起草总结，由拉尔夫·布伦特纳宣讲，我在这里摘录一段： “此委员会必须处理的一个重要问题是是否同意完全信任阿巴盖尔妈妈，并把会议进展情况告知她，公开和不公开的内容？此问题也可以这样说，阿巴盖尔妈妈是否会同意对此委员会及常务委员会完全信任，并把她同大人物的会议进展情况告知我们——特别是那些保密的内容？ “这听起来有些繁琐，但让我解释一下，因为这确实是一个实际问题，我们不得不马上确定阿巴盖尔妈妈在社区的位置，因为我们的问题不仅仅是个“重新站起来”的问题。若是那样的话，我们根本不需要她，众所周知，我们还有另外一个，那个我们称之为黑衣人的敌人。我认为他存在的理由很简单。是这样：我梦到了阿巴盖尔妈妈，她确实存在；我梦到了黑衣人，因此他也一定存在。尽管我从未与他谋面。这里的人们鼓吹阿巴盖尔妈妈，我也是。如果没有她的认可，我们不会取得什么成绩——事实上什么也做不成。” “所以今天下午我拜访她了，把问题直接向她提了出来，并问她是否愿意参加，她说愿意，但有条件。她完全直言不讳。她说我们可以完全自由地在普遍的问题上领导这个社区——普遍的问题上，这是她的原话。清扫街道，建造房屋，恢复发电。” “但她明确表示，她想参与商讨一切有关黑衣人的问题。她说我们都是上帝和撒旦象棋大战中的棋子；撒旦的主将是'复仇之神'，她叫他兰德尔·弗拉格；上帝自有理由，选她作为他们的主将。她相信一场决战就要来到，在这一点，我碰巧和她想的一样。她认为斗争是首要的，她坚持在我们决定有关这场斗争和黑衣人问题时，要与她商讨。” “现在我不想卷入宗教暗流中，也不想争论她是对是错，但有一点很显然的，不管那些暗流，我们有一种情况必须处理，因此我有一些提议。” 大家谈论了尼克的发言。 尼克提议说：我们，作为一个委员会，是否同意不在会上谈论有关神学，宗教和超自然暗流的'复仇之神'的问题？7比0全体通过此决议，委员会同意停止这个问题的讨论，至少是在开会期间。 尼克提议道：我们是否同意委员会主要的秘密事务是处理黑衣人这股力量的问题？格兰·贝特曼补充说，还会经常有其他事务，如葬礼委员会之类的……我们必须保守秘密，提议通过7比0。 尼克接着重复了他起初的提议，委员会所商讨的公开或不公开的事务都应该告知阿巴盖尔妈妈。 提议通过，7比0。 处理完了关于阿巴盖尔妈妈的问题，委员会在尼克的要求下，开始讨论黑衣人的事情。他建议我们派三名志愿者西去加入黑衣人的队伍，目的是获得那边动向的情报。 苏珊·斯特恩马上报名自愿去那里，经过一番激烈的争论，格兰在斯图的准许下发言：特别委员会或常务委员会的任何成员都没有资格去完成这项使命。苏珊·斯特恩想知道原因。 格兰解释说：每个人都敬佩你诚心诚意的请求，苏珊，但情况是，我们不知道我们派去的人是否还能回来，什么时候，以什么形式。同时，我们受雇于人，要使博尔德的一切恢复正常，这还有许多工作要做。如果你去了，我们得找人填你的空缺，还得向他说清楚我们已达成了共识。我认为我们没法负担损失的时间。 苏珊：我想你说得对——至少合情合理——但有时我想这两件事是不是一回事，或者通常是一样的，你说我们不能派委员会的人，是因为我们是不可分的，我们只是……只是……我不知道。 斯图：那你再好好想想。 苏珊：是的，谢谢，我就是这个意思，我们躺在那，而派别人去那里，而他们可能会被吊在电线杆上拷打，或者更糟。 拉尔夫：还会有什么更糟的呢？ 苏珊：我不知道，若有人知道的话，那该是弗拉格，我只是厌恶想到这里。 格兰：你可能会恨它，但它简明摆出了我们的立场，我们是政客，新时代的第一批政治家。我们只希望我们的事业不只是几个政治家派他们的人去做些生死未卜的事情。 苏珊：我从未想过我会是政治家。 拉里：欢迎参加俱乐部。 对格兰提出的特别委员会成员不能去做侦察员的提议进行的表决在一种忧闷的气氛中进行着，结果7比0全体通过。 法兰妮·戈德史密斯问尼克，寻找的特工应具备什么条件，期望他们发现什么情报。 尼克：我们只有等他们回来，才知道能得到什么情报。若是他们真能回来的话。问题是，我们完全不知道他在那边能胜任什么工作。我们多少有些像渔夫拿着诱饵去钓鱼，试着看。 斯图认为委员会应该挑出一些候选人，得到人家的一致同意。通过表决，有关这一点的讨论大多被从录音带上摘了下来。看起来为有关侦察员的决定留下个长久的记录是相当重要的。因为这问题显得很敏感，很麻烦。 拉里：若允许的话，愿提名一人。我猜想对你们中不认识他的人来说，听着有些荒唐，但这可能是个好主意。我提名查理斯法官。 苏珊：什么，那个老头？拉里，你不是糊涂了吧？ 拉里：他是我见到的最机警的老头，他刚刚70岁。罗纳德·里根比他还老的时候还任了一届总统呢。 法兰妮：这可不是我所指的极力推荐。 拉里：但他身体硬朗，我想那个黑衣人不会怀疑我们会派像查理斯这样的老头去监视他——你知道，我们也要考虑他的疑心，他会采取一些防范措施的，如让地界守卫检查过往行人。以免像间谋的人混进去，这并没有大惊小怪的。还有，我知道，这听来很不近人情，特别是对法兰妮，若是我们失去他，总比失去一个还有50年好光阴的小伙子要强些。 法兰妮：你说的对，这太残酷了。 拉里：我想再说一句，就是法官会同意的，他很想帮忙，我认为他能行。 格兰：这值得考虑，其他人怎么想？ 拉尔夫：我无所谓，我不认识这个老绅士。但我认为我们不能因为他老了就把他甩出去，毕竟，看看谁在掌握着这个地方，是一个年过百岁的老人。 格兰：这也值得考虑。 斯图：你听起来倒像是一棵墙头草。 苏珊：听着，拉里，若是他骗过了那个黑衣人，再驼着背，匆匆赶回来时突然心脏病发作了，那怎么办？ 斯图：这个人人身上都可能发生，也可能是事故。 苏珊：我同意……但在老人身上，这种可能性大一些。 拉里：这没错，但你不了解法官，苏珊，如果你了解他的话，你会看到优势大于劣势，他真的很棒，无以伦比。 斯图：我想拉里说的有道理，这样的事弗拉格可能想不到，我赞成，还有谁？ 委员会投票，7比0。 苏珊：好了，我同意了你的提名，拉里，也许你也会同意我的。 拉里：我想是的，这就是政治，好吧，是谁？ 苏珊：戴纳。 戴纳是谁，拉尔夫问道。 苏珊：就是戴纳·于尔根斯，她比任何一个女人都有胆量，当然，我知道她可没有70岁，但我想如果向她说出我们的建议，她会同意的。 法兰妮：是的……如果我们真要这么做，我觉得她不错，我赞成。 斯图：好，邀请戴纳的动议已经提出并获得支持，还有反对的吗？ 委员会投票，7比0。 格兰：好，第三位候选人是谁？ 尼克：若是法兰妮不喜欢拉里的提名，我想她恐怕不会喜欢我这个提名，我提名…… 拉尔夫：尼克，你疯了吗？你不是这个意思！ 斯图：来，拉尔夫，读一下这个提名。 拉尔夫：好吧——上面写着他的提名——汤姆·科伦。 委员会一片沸腾。 斯图：好，尼克有他的理由，提名一个私生子，你最好读一下，拉尔夫。 尼克：首先，我对汤姆很了解，就像拉里对法官那样，甚至更为了解。他喜欢阿巴盖尔妈妈，他会为她做任何事，包括进油锅下火海。我就是这个意思，并不是发神经。若是她开口，他会乐意为她赴汤蹈火的。 法兰妮：噢，尼克，没人对此有争议，但汤姆…… 斯图：让他说下去，法兰妮，尼克自有他的道理。 尼克：我的第二个理由与拉里提名法官的原因相同。复仇之神不会想到我们会用汤姆这类迟钝的人做间谋，你们大家的反应是最好的论据，第三个理由，也是最后一个，尽管汤姆可能有些迟钝，但他并不缺心眼。有一次飓风来的时候，他救过我的命，他比任何我所知道的人反应都迅速。汤姆有些孩子气，但如果有人教他，训练他，就是孩子也能学会做一些事。我看让汤姆记住一个简单的故事不成问题，最后，他们很可能想我们派他去是因为…… 苏珊：因为我们不想他污染我们的基因库，看，这对我们有利。 尼克：因为他迟钝，甚至可以说当他看到那些把他送走的人时简直都快疯了，他要向他们报复，需要让他牢牢记住的一个指示就是无论知何，都不能泄露秘密。 法兰妮：噢，不，我简直不能相信…… 斯图：接着说，尼克有他的理由，我们让他说完。 法兰妮：好的，对不起。 尼克：有人可能会觉得，汤姆比较迟钝，很难像聪明人那样保守秘密，但…… 拉里：是这样。 尼克：事实上，刚好相反，若我告诉汤姆他必须坚守秘密，无论发生什么事，他会那样做的，而一个所谓的正常人能经受得起多少桶冷水，多少次电击，多少次指尖钉钉的折磨呢？ 法兰妮：不至于此吧，不会吧？我的意思是，没人真得认为事情会到那步田地吧？ 尼克：挨不到那时，有人便会说：好了，我投降，我把知道的人都告诉你们。但汤姆不会这样做，如果他把编好的故事多看几遍，他不仅仅会只把它记在心里，而且他几乎会信以为真，没人能让他动摇，我只想说明，我觉得从各方面来说，汤姆的迟钝对于这样一项使命是个优势，使命这个词听起来有些夸大其辞，但情况确实是这样。 斯图：拉尔夫，说完了吗？ 拉尔夫：还有一点儿。 苏珊：如果他实际上开展了工作，但他又怎么能知道什么时候该返回呢？ 拉尔夫：请原谅，这一段倒是讲这一点的。 尼克（由拉尔夫读）：汤姆在出发前将接受催眠的指示，但这并不容易，我有了