carson mccullers - the heart is a lonely hunter-第45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！


his　voice　could　be　heard　throughout　the　town。　He　wanted　to　
fall　upon　the　floor　and　call　out　in　a　giant　voice。　The　room　was　
full　of　moans　and　shouts。　
'Save　us！'　
'Mighty　Lord！　Lead　us　from　this　wilderness　of　death！　
'Hallelujah！　Save　us；　Lord！'　
He　struggled　for　the　control　in　htm。　He　struggled　and　at　last　
the　discipline　returned。　He　pushed　down　the　shout　in　him　and　
sought　for　the　strong；　true　voice。　
'Attention！'　he　called。　'We　will　save　ourselves。　But　not　by　
prayers　of　mourning。　Not　by　indolence　or　strong　drink。　Not　by　
the　pleasures　of　the　body　or　by　ignorance。　Not　by　submission　
and　humbleness。　But　by　pride。　By　dignity。　By　becoming　hard　
and　strong。　We　must　build　strength　for　our　real　true　purpose。'　
He　stopped　abruptly　and　held　himself　very　straight。　'Each　year　
at　this　time　we　illustrate　in　our　small　way　the　first　
commandment　from　Karl　Marx。　Every　one　of　you　at　this　
gathering　has　brought　in　advance　some　gift。　Many　of　you　have　
denied　yourselves　comfort　that　the　needs　of　others　may　be　
lessened。　Each　of　you　has　given　according　to　his　best　ability；　
without　thought　to　the　value　of　the　gift　he　will　receive　in　
return。　It　is　natural　for　us　to　share　with　each　other。　We　have　
long　realized　that　it　is　more　blessed　to　give　than　to　receive。　
The　words　of　Karl　Marx　have　always　been　known　in　our　
hearts：　〃From　each　according　to　his　ability；　to　each　according　
to　his　needs。〃　'　
Doctor　Copeland　was　silent　a　long　time　as　though　his　words　
were　complete。　Then　he　spoke　again：　
'Our　mission　is　to　walk　with　strength　and　dignity　through　the　
days　of　our　humiliation。　Our　pride　must　be　strong；　for　we　


know　the　value　of　the　human　mind　and　soul。　We　must　teach　
our　children。　We　must　sacrifice　so　that　they　may　earn　the　
dignity　of　study　and　wisdom。　For　the　time　will　come。　The　time　
will　come　when　the　riches　in　us　will　not　be　held　in　scorn　and　
contempt。　The　time　will　come　when　we　will　be　allowed　to　
serve。　When　we　will　labor　and　our　labor　will　not　be　wasted。　
And　our　mission　is　to　await　this　time　with　strength　and　faith。'　
It　was　finished。　Hands　were　clapped；　feet　were　stamped　upon　
the　floor　and　en　the　hard　winter　ground　outside。　The166　

odor　of　hot；　strong　coffee　floated　from　the　kitchen。　John　
Roberts　took　charge　of　the　presents；　calling　out　the　names　
written　on　the　cards。　Portia　ladled　the　coffee　from　the　dish…pan　
on　the　stove　while　Marshall　Nicolls　passed　slices　of　cake。　
Doctor　Copeland　moved　about　among　the　guests；　a　little　
crowd　always　surrounding　him。　
Someone　nagged　at　his　elbow：　'He　the　one　your　Buddy　named　
for？'　He　answered　yes。　Lancy　Davis　followed　him　with　
questions；　he　answered　yes　to　everything。　The　joy　made　him　
feel　like　a　drunken　man。　To　teach　and　exhort　and　explain　to　
his　people—and　to　have　them　understand。　That　was　the　best　
of　all。　To　speak　the　truth　and　be　attended。　
'Us　certainly　have　had　one　fine　time　at　this　party。'　
He　stood　in　the　vestibule　saying　good…bye。　Over　and　over　he　
shook　hands。　He　leaned　heavily　against　the　wall　and　only　his　
eyes　moved；　for　he　was　tired。　
'I　certainly　do　appreciate。'　
Mr。　Singer　was　the　last　to　leave。　He　was　a　truly　good　man。　He　
was　a　white　man　of　intellect　and　true　knowledge。　In　him　there　
was　none　of　the　mean　insolence。　When　all　had　departed　he　
was　the　last　to　remain。　He　waited　and　seemed　to　expect　some　
final　word。　
Doctor　Copeland　held　his　hand　to　his　throat　because　his　
larynx　was　sore。　'Teachers；'　he　said　huskily。　'That　is　our　
greatest　need。　Leaders。　Someone　to　unite　and　guide　us。'　
After　the　festivity　the　rooms　had　a　bare；　ruined　look。　The　
house　was　cold。　Portia　was　washing　the　cups　in　the　kitchen。　
The　silver　snow　on　the　Christmas　tree　had　been　tracked　over　
the　floors　and　two　of　the　ornaments　were　broken。　
He　was　tired；　but　the　joy　and　the　fever　would　not　let　him　rest　


Beginning　with　the　bedroom；　he　set　to　work　to　put　the　house　
in　order。　On　the　top　of　the　filing　case　there　was　a　loose　card—　
the　note　on　Lancy　Davis。　The　words　that　he　would　say　to　him　
began　to　form　in　his　mind；　and　he　was　restless　because　he　
could　not　speak　them　now。　The　boy's　sullen　face　was　full　of　
heart　and　he　could　not　thrust　it　from　his　thoughts。　He　opened　
the　top　drawer　of　the　file　to　replace　the　card；　A；　B；　C—he　
thumbed　through　the　letters　nervously。　Then　his　eye　was　fixed　
on　his　own　name：　Copeland；　Benedict　Mady。　

167　
In　the　folder　were　several　lung　X…rays　and　a　short　case　history。　
He　held　an　X…ray　up　to　the　light。　On　the　upper　left　lung　there　
was　a　bright　place　like　a　calcified　star。　And　lower　down　a　
large　clouded　spot　that　duplicated　itself　in　the　right　lung　
farther　up。　Doctor　Copeland　quickly　replaced　the　X…rays　in　the　
folder。　Only　the　brief　notes　he　had　written　on　himself　were　
still　in　his　hand。　The　words　stretched　out　large　and　scrawling　
so　that　he　could　hardly　read　them。　'1920—calcif。　of　lymph　
glands—very　pronounced　thickening　of　hili。　Lesions　arrested　
—duties　resumed。　1937—lesion　reopened—X…ray　
shows'　He　
could　not　read　the　notes。　At　first　he　could　not　make　out　the　
words；　and　then　when　he　read　them　clearly　they　made　no　
reason。　At　the　finish　there　were　three　words：　'Prognosis：　Don't　
know。'　
The　old　black；　violent　feeling　came　in　him　again。　He　leaned　
down　and　wrenched　open　a　drawer　at　the　bottom　of　the　case。　
A　jumbled　pile　of　letters。　Notes　from　the　Association　for　the　
Advancement　of　Colored　People。　A　yellowed　letter　from　
Daisy。　A　note　from　Hamilton　asking　for　a　dollar　and　a　half。　
What　was　he　looking　for？　His　hands　rummaged　in　the　drawer　
and　then　at　last　he　arose　stiffly。　
Time　wasted。　The　past　hour　gone。　
Portia　peeled　potatoes　at　the　kitchen　table。　She　was　slumped　
over　and　her　face　was　dolorous。　
'Hold　up　your　shoulders；'　he　said　angrily。　'And　cease　moping。　
You　mope　and　drool　around　until　I　cannot　bear　to　look　on　
you。'　
'I　were　just　thinking　about　Willie；'　she　said。　'Course　the　letter　
is　only　three　days　due。　But　he　got　no　business　to　worry　me　like　


this。　He　not　that　kind　of　a　boy。　And　I　got　this　queer　feeling。
'
'Have　patience；　Daughter。
'
'I　reckon　I　have　to。
'
'There　are　a　few　calls　I　must　make；　but　I　will　be　back　shortly。
'
'O。K。
'
'All　will　be　well；'　he　said。
Most　of　his　joy　was　gone　in　the　bright；　cool　noonday　sun。　The
diseases　of　his　patients　lay　scattered　in　his　mind。　An　abscessed
kidney。　Spinal　meningitis。　Pott's　disease。　He　lifted　the　crank　of
the　automobile　from　the　back　seat168


Usually　he　hailed　some　passing　Negro　from　the　street　to　crank
the　car　for　him。　His　people　were　always　glad　to　help　and
serve。　But　today　he　fitted　the　crank　and　turned　it　vigorously
himself。　He　wiped　the　perspiration　from　his　face　with　the
sleeve　of　his　overcoat　and　hurried　to　get　beneath　the　wheel
and　on　his　way。
How　much　that　he　had　said　today　was　understood？　How　much
would　be　of　any　value？　He　recalled　the　words　he　had　used；
and　they　seemed　to　fade　and　lose　their　strength。　The　words　left
unsaid　were　heavier　on　his　heart。　They　rolled　up　to　his　lips
and　fretted　them。　The　faces　of　his　suffering　people　moved　in　
a
swelling　mass　before　his　eyes。　And　as　he　steered　the
automobile　slowly　down　the　street　his　heart　turned　with　this
angry；　restless　love。


J。　HE　town　had　not　known　a　winter　as　cold　as　this　one　for　
years。　Frost　formed　on　the　windowpanes　and　whitened　the　
roofs　of　houses。　The　winter　afternoons　glowed　with　a　hazy　
lemon　light　and　shadows　were　a　delicate　blue。　A　thin　coat　of　
ice　crusted　the　puddles　in　the　streets；　and　it　was　said　on　the　
day　after　Christmas　that　only　ten　miles　to　the　north　there　was　a　
light　fall　of　snow。　
A　change　came　over　Singer。　Often　he　went　out　for　the　long　
walks　that　had　occupied　him　during　the　months　when　
Antonapoulos　was　first　gone。　These　walks　extended　for　miles　
in　every　direction　and　covered　the　whole　of　the　town。　He　
rambled　through　the　dense　neighborhoods　along　the　river　that　
were　more　squalid　than　ever　since　the　mills　had　been　slack　
this　winter。　In　many　eyes　there　was　a　look　of　somber　
loneliness。　Now　that　people　were　forced　to　be　idle；　a　certain　

restlessness　could　be　felt。　There　was　a　fervid　outbreak　of　new　
beliefs。　A　young　man　who　had　worked　at　th