carson mccullers - the heart is a lonely hunter-第3章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


speak。　
At　the　school　he　was　thought　very　intelligent。　He　learned　the　
lessons　before　the　rest　of　the　pupils。　But　he　could　never　
become　used　to　speaking　with　his　lips。　It　was　not　natural　to　
him；　and　his　tongue　felt　like　a　whale　in　his　mouth。　From　the　
blank　expression　on　people's　faces　to　whom　he　talked　in　this　
way　he　felt　that　his　voice　must　be　like　the　sound　of　some　
animal　or　that　there　was　something　disgusting　in　his　speech。　It　
was　painful　for　him　to　try　to　talk　with　his　mouth；　but　his　hands　
were　always　ready　to　shape　the　words　he　wished　to　say。　When　
he　was　twenty…two　he　had　come　South　to　this　town　from　
Chicago　and　he　met　Antonapoulos　immediately。　Since　that　
time　he　had　never　spoken　with　his　mouth　again；　because　with　
his　friend　there　was　no　need　for　this。　
Nothing　seemed　real　except　the　ten　years　with　Antonapoulos。　
In　his　half…dreams　he　saw　his　friend　very　vividly；　and　when　he　
awakened　a　great　aching　loneliness　would　be　in　him。　
Occasionally　he　would　pack　up　a　box　for　Antonapoulos；　but　
he　never　received　any　reply。　And　so　the　months　passed　hi　this　
empty；　dreaming　way。　
In　the　spring　a　change　came　over　Singer。　He　could　not　sleep　
and　his　body　was　very　restless。　At　evening　he　would　walk　
monotonously　around　the　room；　unable　to　work　off　a　new　
feeling　of　energy。　If　he　rested　at　all　it　was　only　during　a　few　
hours　before　dawn—then　he　would　drop　bluntly　into　

9　
a　sleep　that　lasted　until　the　morning　light　struck　suddenly　
beneath　his　opening　eyelids　like　a　scimitar。　
He　began　spending　his　evenings　walking　around　the　town。　He　
could　no　longer　stand　the　rooms　where　Antonapoulos　had　


lived；　and　he　rented　a　place　in　a　shambling　boarding…house　not　
far　from　the　center　of　the　town。　
He　ate　his　meals　at　a　restaurant　only　two　blocks　away。　This　
restaurant　was　at　the　very　end　of　the　long　main　street　and　the　
name　of　the　place　was　the　New　York　Cafe。　The　first　day　he　
glanced　over　the　menu　quickly　and　wrote　a　short　note　and　
handed　it　to　the　proprietor。　

Each　morning　for　breakfast　I　want　an　egg；　toast；　and　coffee　

0。15　

For　lunch　I　want　soup　（any　kind）；　a　meat　sandwich；　and　milk　

—　0。25　
Please　bring　me　ut　dinner　three　vegetables　（any　kind　but　
cabbage）；　fish　or　meat；　and　a　glass　of　beer—　

0。35　

Thank　you。　

The　proprietor　read　the　note　and　gave　him　an　alert；　tactful　
glance。　He　was　a　hard　man　of　middle　height；　with　a　beard　so　
dark　and　heavy　that　the　lower　part　of　his　face　looked　as　
though　it　were　molded　of　iron。　He　usually　stood　in　the　corner　
by　the　cash　register；　his　arms　folded　over　his　chest；　quietly　
observing　all　that　went　on　around　him。　Singer　came　to　know　
this　man's　face　very　well；　for　he　ate　at　one　of　his　tables　three　
times　a　day。　
Each　evening　the　mute　walked　alone　for　hours　in　the　street。　
Sometimes　the　nights　were　cold　with　the　sharp；　wet　winds　of　
March　and　it　would　be　raining　heavily。　But　to　him　this　did　not　
matter。　His　gait　was　agitated　and　he　always　kept　his　hands　
stuffed　tight　into　the　pockets　of　his　trousers。　Then　as　the　
weeks　passed　the　days　grew　warm　and　languorous。　His　
agitation　gave　way　gradually　to　exhaustion　and　there　was　a　
look　about　him　of　deep　calm。　In　his　face　there　came　to　be　a　
brooding　peace　that　is　seen　most　often　in　the　faces　of　the　very　
sorrowful　or　the　very　wise。　But　still　he　wandered　through　the　
streets　of　the　town；　always　silent　and　alone。10

_f　N　A　black；　sultry　night　in　early　summer　Biff　Brannon　
stood　behind　the　cash　register　of　the　New　York　Cafe。　It　was　
twelve　o'clock。　Outside　the　street　lights　had　already　been　
turned　off；　so　that　the　light　from　the　cafe　made　a　sharp；　yellow　
rectangle　on　the　sidewalk。　The　street　was　deserted；　but　inside　


the　cafe　there　were　half　a　dozen　customers　drinking　beer　or　
Santa　Lucia　wine　or　whiskey。　Biff　waited　stolidly；　his　elbow　
resting　on　the　counter　and　his　thumb　mashing　the　tip　of　his　
long　nose。　His　eyes　were　intent。　He　watched　especially　a　
short；　squat　man　in　overalls　who　had　become　drunk　and　
boisterous。　Now　and　then　his　gaze　passed　on　to　the　mute　who　
sat　by　himself　at　one　of　the　middle　tables；　or　to　others　of　the　
customers　before　the　counter。　But　he　always　turned　back　to　
the　drunk　in　overalls。　The　hour　grew　later　and　Biff　continued　
to　wait　silently　behind　the　counter。　Then　at　last　he　gave　the　
restaurant　a　final　survey　and　went　toward　the　door　at　the　back　
which　led　upstairs。　
Quietly　he　entered　the　room　at　the　top　of　the　stairs。　It　was　dark　
inside　and　he　walked　with　caution。　After　he　had　gone　a　few　
paces　his　toe　struck　something　hard　and　he　reached　down　and　
felt　for　the　handle　of　a　suitcase　on　the　floor。　He　had　only　been　
in　the　room　a　few　seconds　and　was　about　to　leave　when　the　
light　was　turned　on。　
Alice　sat　up　in　the　rumpled　bed　and　looked　at　him。　'What　you　
doing　with　that　suitcase？'　she　asked。　'Can't　you　get　rid　of　that　
lunatic　without　giving　him　back　what　he's　already　drunk　up？'　
'Wake　up　and　go　down　yourself。　Call　the　cop　and　let　him　get　
soused　on　the　chain　gang　with　cornbread　and　peas。　Go　to　it；　
Misses　Brannon。'　
'I　will　all　right　if　he's　down　there　tomorrow。　But　you　leave　that　
bag　alone。　It　don't　belong　to　that　sponger　any　more。'　
'I　know　spongers；　and　Blount's　not　one；'　Biff　said。　'Myself—I　
don't　know　so　well。　But　I'm　not　that　kind　of　a　thief。'　
Calmly　Biff　put　down　the　suitcase　on　the　steps　outside。

11


The　air　was　not　so　stale　and　sultry　in　the　room　as　it　was　
downstairs。　He　decided　to　stay　for　a　short　while　and　douse　his　
face　with　cold　water　before　going　back。　
'I　told　you　already　what　I'll　do　if　you　don't　get　rid　of　that　
fellow　for　good　tonight。　In　the　daytime　he　takes　them　naps　at　
the　back；　and　then　at　night　you　feed　him　dinners　and　beer。　For　
a　week　now　he　hasn't　paid　one　cent。　And　all　his　wild　talking　
and　carrying…on　will　ruin　any　decent　trade。'　
'You　don't　know　people　and　you　don't　know　real　business；'　
Biff　said。　〃The　fellow　in　question　first　came　in　here　twelve　


days　ago　and　he　was　a　stranger　in　the　town。　The　first　week　he　
gave　us　twenty　dollars'　worth　of　trade。　Twenty　at　the　
minimum。'　
'And　since　then　on　credit；'　Alice　said。　Tive　days　on　credit；　and　
so　drunk　it's　a　disgrace　to　the　business。　And　besides；　he's　
nothing　but　a　bum　and　a　freak。'　
'I　like　freaks；'　Biff　said。　
'I　reckon　you　dol　I　just　reckon　you　certainly　ought　to；　Mister　
Brannon—being　as　you're　one　yourself。'　
He　rubbed　his　bluish　chin　and　paid　her　no　attention。　For　the　
first　fifteen　years　of　their　married　life　they　had　called　each　
other　just　plain　Biff　and　Alice。　Then　in　one　of　their　quarrels　
they　had　begun　calling　each　other　Mister　and　Misses；　and　
since　then　they　had　never　made　it　up　enough　to　change　it。　
Tm　just　warning　you　he'd　better　not　be　there　when　I　come　
down　tomorrow。'　
Biff　went　into　the　bathroom；　and　after　he　had　bathed　his　face　
he　decided　that　he　would　have　time　for　a　shave。　His　beard　was　
black　and　heavy　as　though　it　had　grown　for　three　days。　He　
stood　before　the　mirror　and　rubbed　his　cheek　meditatively。　He　
was　sorry　he　had　talked　to　Alice。　With　her；　silence　was　better。　
Being　around　that　woman　always　made　him　different　from　his　
real　self。　It　made　him　tough　and　small　and　common　as　she　
was。　Biff's　eyes　were　cold　and　staring；　half…concealed　by　the　
cynical　droop　of　his　eyelids。　On　the　fifth　finger　of　his　
calloused　hand　there　was　a　woman's　wedding　ring。　The　door　
was　open　behind　him；　and　in　the　mirror　he　could　see　Alice　
lying　in　the　bed。　
'Listen；'　he　said。　〃The　trouble　with　you　is　that　you　don't　have　
any　real　kindness。　Not　but　one　woman　Fve　ever　known　had　
this　real　kindness　I'm　talking　about'12　

'Well；　I've　known　you　to　do　things　no　man　in　this　world　would　
be　proud　of。　I've　known　you　to'　
'Or　maybe　it's　curiosity　I　mean。　You　don't　ever　see　or　notice　
anything　important　that　goes　on。　You　never　watch　and　think　
and　try　to　figure　anything　out。　Maybe　that's　the　biggest　
difference　between　you　and　me；　after　all。'　
Alice　was　almost　asleep　again；　and　through　the　mirror　he　
watched　her　with　detachment。　There　was　no　distinctive　point　


about　her　on　which　he　could　fasten　his　attention；　and　his　gaze　
glided　from　her　pale　brown　h