诺贝尔文学经典:《宠儿》第7章Part 1

There was no question but that she could do it. Just like the day she arrived at 124 — sure enough,she had milk enough for all.
Beloved came through the door and they ought to have heard hertread, but they didn't.
Breathing and murmuring, breathing and murmuring. Beloved heard them as soon as the doorbanged shut behind her. She jumped at the slam and swiveled her head toward the whisperscoming from behind the white stairs. She took a step and felt like crying. She had been so close,then closer. And it was so much better than the anger that ruled when Sethe did or thoughtanything that excluded herself. She could bear the hours — -nine or ten of them each day but one— -when Sethe was gone. Bear even the nights when she was close but out of sight, behind wallsand doors lying next to him. But now — even the daylight time that Beloved had counted on,disciplined herself to be content with, was being reduced, divided by Sethe's willingness to payattention to other things. Him mostly. Him who said something to her that made her run out intothe woods and talk to herself on a rock. Him who kept her hidden at night behind doors. And himwho had hold of her now whispering behind the stairs after Beloved had rescued her neck and wasready now to put her hand in that woman's own.
Beloved turned around and left. Denver had not arrived, or else she was waiting somewhereoutside. Beloved went to look, pausing to watch a cardinal hop from limb to branch. She followedthe blood spot shifting in the leaves until she lost it and even then she walked on, backward, stillhungry for another glimpse.
She turned finally and ran through the woods to the stream. Standing close to its edge she watchedher reflection there. When Denver's face joined hers, they stared at each other in the water.
"You did it, I saw you," said Denver.
"What?"

"I saw your face. You made her choke."
"I didn't do it."
"You told me you loved her."
"I fixed it, didn't I? Didn't I fix her neck?"
"After. After you choked her neck."

不成问题，她当然能做到。就像她刚到124号那天——毫无疑问，她的奶水足够所有的孩子吃。
宠儿进了门。他们本该听见她的脚步声，却没有听见。
呼吸急促，窃窃私语，呼吸急促，窃窃私语。门刚在身后撞上，宠儿就听见了他们的声音。砰的一响让她跳起来，然后她把脑袋扭过去，听明白楼梯后面的低语声。她迈了一步，差点哭出来。她本来已经离塞丝这样近了，刚才又更近了一步。塞丝做或想与她无关的事情时席卷她的那种愤怒，同这个可有天壤之别。她能够忍受塞丝出门的那些个钟头——每天九十个小时，一星期中只有一天例外。甚至能忍受她在墙壁和门板后面躺在他身边的那些夜晚，她离得很近，却不在视野里。可是现在——甚至宠儿所指望的、强迫自己知足的白天时间也被压缩了，也被塞丝关注其他事物的愿望给弄得支离破碎。主要怪他。是他说得她跑到树林里，坐在石头上自言自语。是他夜里把她藏在门后头。现在又是他霸占着她，在楼梯后面嘀嘀咕咕，就在宠儿刚刚救治了她的脖子、准备好把手放进那女人自己的手里之后不久。
宠儿转身离去。丹芙还没到，要么就是还等在外面什么地方。宠儿出去找她，半路上停下来，看一只红雀从树梢飞向树枝。她的眼睛跟着这个血点在树叶间穿行，直到找不见它，她才倒退着走开，仍然渴望再看上一眼。
她终于回转身，穿过树林跑向小溪。站在岸边，她望着自己的倒影。当丹芙的脸也映在她的旁边，她们在水中面面相觑。
"是你干的，我看见了。"丹芙道。
"什么？"
"我看见你的脸了。是你让她噎住的。"
"不是我干的。"
"你跟我说过你爱她。"
"是我治好的，不是吗？不是我把她的脖子治好的吗？"
"那是后来。在你掐了她脖子之后。"