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双语·没有女人的男人们 第八篇 十个印第安人

所属教程:译林版·没有女人的男人们:海明威短篇小说选

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2022年04月22日

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AFTER one Fourth of July, Nick, driving home late from town in the big wagon with Joe Garner and his family, passed nine drunken Indians along the road.He remembered there were nine because Joe Garner, driving along in the dusk, pulled up the horses, jumped down into the road and dragged an Indian out of the wheel rut.The Indian had been asleep face down in the sand.Joe dragged him into the bushes and got back up on the wagon-box.

“That makes nine of them,”Joe said,“just between here and the edge of town.”

“Them Indians,”said Mrs.Garner.

Nick was on the back seat with the two Garner boys.He was looking out from the back seat to see the Indian where Joe had dragged him alongside of the road.

“Was it Billy Tableshaw?”Carl asked.

“No.”

“His pants looked mighty like Billy.”

“All Indians wear the same kind of pants.”

“I didn't see him at all,”Frank said.“Pa was down into the road and back up again before I seen a thing.I thought he was killing a snake.”

“Plenty of Indians'll kill snakes tonight, I guess,”Joe Garner said.

“Them Indians,”said Mrs.Garner.

They drove along.The road turned off from the main highway and went up into the hills.It was hard pulling for the horses and the boys got down and walked.The road was sandy.Nick looked back from the top of the hill by the school house.He saw the lights of Petoskey and, off across Little Traverse Bay, the lights of Harbor Springs.They climbed back into the wagon again.

“They ought to put some gravel on that stretch,”Joe Garner said.The wagon went along the road through the woods.Joe and Mrs.Garner sat close together on the front seat.Nick sat between the two boys.The road came out into a clearing.

“Right here was where Pa ran over the skunk.”

“It was further on.”

“It don't make no difference where it was,”Joe said without turning his head.“One place is just as good as another to run over a skunk.”

“I saw two skunks last night,”Nick said.

“Where?”

“Down by the lake.They were looking for dead fish along the beach.”

“They were coons probably,”Carl said.

“They were skunks.I guess I know skunks.”

“You ought to,”Carl said.“You got an Indian girl.”

“Stop talking that way, Carl,”said Mrs.Garner.

“Well, they smell about the same.”

Joe Garner laughed.

“You stop laughing, Joe,”Mrs.Garner said.“I won't have Carl talkthat way.”

“Have you got an Indian girl, Nickie?”Joe asked.

“No.”

“He has too, Pa,”Frank said.“Prudence Mitchell's his girl.”

“She's not.”

“He goes to see her every day.”

“I don't.”Nick, sitting between the two boys in the dark felt hollow and happy inside himself to be teased about Prudence Mitchell.“She ain't my girl,”he said.

“Listen to him,”said Carl.“I see them together every day.”

“Carl can't get a girl,”his mother said,“not even a squaw.”

Carl was quiet.

“Carl ain't no good with girls,”Frank said.

“You shut up.”

“You're all right, Carl,”Joe Garner said.“Girls never got a man anywhere.Look at your pa.”

“Yes, that's what you would say.”Mrs.Garner moved close to Joe as the wagon jolted.“Well, you had plenty of girls in your time.”

“I'll bet pa wouldn't ever have had a squaw for a girl.”

“Don't you think it,”Joe said.“You better watch out to keep Prudie, Nick.”

His wife whispered to him and Joe laughed.

“What you laughing at?”asked Frank.

“Don't you say it, Garner,”his wife warned.Joe laughed again.

“Nickie can have Prudence,”Joe Garner said.“I got a good girl.”

“That's the way to talk,”Mrs.Garner said.

The horses were pulling heavily in the sand.Joe reached out in the dark with the whip.

“Come on, pull into it.You'll have to pull harder than this tomorrow.”

They trotted down the long hill, the wagon jolting.At the farmhouse everybody got down.Mrs.Garner unlocked the door, went inside, and came out with a lamp in her hand.Carl and Nick unloaded the things from the back of the wagon.Frank sat on the front seat to drive to the barn and put up the horses.Nick went up the steps and opened the kitchen door.Mrs.Garner was building a fire in the stove.She turned from pouring kerosene on the wood.

“Good-bye, Mrs.Garner,”Nick said.“Thanks for taking me.”

“Oh shucks, Nickie.”

“I had a wonderful time.”

“We like to have you.Won't you stay and eat some supper?”

“I better go.I think Dad probably waited for me.”

“Well, get along then.Send Carl up to the house, will you?”

“All right.”

“Good night, Nickie!”

“Good night, Mrs.Garner.”

Nick went out the farmyard and down to the barn.Joe and Frank were milking.

“Good night,”Nick said.“I had a swell time.”

“Good night, Nick,”Joe Garner called.“Aren't you going to stay and eat?”

“No, I can't.Will you tell Carl his mother wants him?”

“All right.Good night, Nickie.”

Nick walked barefooted along the path through the meadow below the barn.The path was smooth and the dew was cool on his bare feet.He climbed a fence at the end of the meadow, went down through a ravine, his feet wet in the swamp mud, and climbed up through the dry beech woods until he saw the lights of the cottage.He climbed over the fence and walked around to the front porch.Through the window he saw his father sitting by the table, reading in the light from the big lamp.Nick opened the door and went in.

“Well, Nickie,”his father said,“was it a good day?”

“I had a swell time, Dad.It was a swell Fourth of July.”

“Are you hungry?”

“You bet.”

“What did you do with your shoes?”

“I left them in the wagon at Garner's.”

“Come on out to the kitchen.”

Nick's father went ahead with the lamp.He stopped and lifted the lid of the ice-box.Nick went on into the kitchen.His father brought out a piece of cold chicken on a plate and a pitcher of milk and put them on the table before Nick.He put down the lamp.

“There's some pie too,”he said.“Will that hold you?”

“It's grand.”

His father sat down in a chair beside the oilcloth-covered table.He made a big shadow on the kitchen wall.

“Who won the ball game?”

“Petoskey.Five to three.”

His father sat watching him eat and filled his glass from the milk-pitcher.Nick drank and wiped his mouth on his napkin.His father reached over to the shelf for the pie.He cut Nick a big piece.It was huckleberry pie.

“What did you do, Dad?”

“I went out fshing in the morning.”

“What did you get?”

“Only perch.”

His father sat watching Nick eat the pie.

“What did you do this afternoon?”Nick asked.

“I went for a walk up by the Indian camp.”

“Did you see anybody?”

“The Indians were all in town getting drunk.”

“Didn't you see anybody at all?”

“I saw your friend, Prudie.”

“Where was she?”

“She was in the woods with Frank Washburn.I ran onto them.They were having quite a time.”

His father was not looking at him.

“What were they doing?”

“I didn't stay to fnd out.”

“Tell me what they were doing.”

“I don't know,”his father said.“I just heard them threshing around.”

“How did you know it was them?”

“I saw them.”

“I thought you said you didn't see them.”

“Oh, yes, I saw them.”

“Who was it with her?”Nick asked.

“Frank Washburn.”

“Were they—were they—”

“Were they what?”

“Were they happy?”

“I guess so.”

His father got up from the table and went out of the kitchen screen door.When he came back Nick was looking at his plate.He had been crying.

“Have some more?”His father picked up the knife to cut the pie.

“No,”said Nick.

“You better have another piece.”

“No, I don't want any.”

His father cleared off the table.

“Where were they in the woods?”asked Nick.

“Up back of the camp.”Nick looked at his plate.His father said,“You better go to bed, Nick.”

“All right.”

Nick went into his room, undressed, and got into bed.He heard his father moving around in the living room.Nick lay in the bed with his face in the pillow.

“My heart's broken,”he thought.“If I feel this way my heart must be broken.”

After a while he heard his father blow out the lamp and go into his own room.He heard a wind come up in the trees outside and felt it comein cool through the screen.He lay for a long time with his face in the pillow, and after a while he forgot to think about Prudence and finally he went to sleep.When he awoke in the night he heard the wind in the hemlock trees outside the cottage and the waves of the lake coming in on the shore, and he went back to sleep.In the morning there was a big wind blowing and the waves were running high up on the beach and he was awake a long time before he remembered that his heart was broken.

有一年,七月四日[55]庆典之后,天色已晚,尼克和乔·盖默一家赶着大篷车从城里回家,路上遇见了九个喝得烂醉的印第安人。他记得是九个,因为正在苍茫暮色里赶车的乔·盖默见有个印第安人脸朝下趴在满是沙子的车辙上睡着了,便勒住马,跳下车,把他拖开,拖到路边的矮树丛里,然后又回到了驭手座上。

“从城外到这里,”乔说,“都遇见九个了。”

“这些印第安人呀!”盖默太太说。

尼克和盖默家的两个男孩坐在后座上。乔把那个印第安人拖到路边时,尼克一直在后座那儿望着印第安人。

“那人是比利·泰伯肖吗?”卡尔问。

“不是。”

“看他穿的裤子倒是很像比利。”

“印第安人穿的裤子全都一样。”

“我压根就没有看到。”弗兰克说,“爸爸跳下车,很快就又回来了,弄得我什么也没看清。我还以为他下车是去打蛇呢。”

“今天晚上,恐怕很多印第安人出动‘打蛇’哩。”乔·盖默打趣道。

“这些印第安人呀!”盖默太太说。

他们继续驾车前行,后来离开通衢大道上了盘山路。马拉车上山很吃力,于是几个男孩子便跳下车步行。路面上全是沙子。到了学校旁的小山顶上,尼克回头望去,但见佩托斯基[56]灯火辉煌,目光掠过小特拉弗斯湾,对面的哈伯斯普林斯小镇也是一片灯海。下山时,他们又回到了车上。

“刚才那段路,应该铺碎石。”乔·盖默说。大篷车沿着车道进了林子。乔和他的妻子盖默太太并排坐在前排。尼克坐在他家的两个男孩之间。马车出了林子,来到了一片空地上。

“就是在这儿爸爸赶车轧死了一只臭鼬。”

“是再往前一点儿的地方。”

“在哪儿轧死都是一样的,”乔头也没回地说,“在这儿轧死和在那儿轧死没什么两样。”

“昨晚我看见了两只臭鼬。”尼克说。

“哪儿看见的?”

“在湖边。它们正在湖岸上找死鱼吃呢。”

“大概是浣熊吧。”卡尔说。

“是臭鼬。臭鼬我想我还是认识的。”

“你应该认识。”卡尔说,“你有个印第安女朋友嘛。”

“别说这种话,卡尔。”盖默太太说。

“他们的嗅觉差不多同样灵敏。”[57]

乔·盖默听了哈哈大笑。

“别笑啦,乔。”盖默太太说,“我不许卡尔说这种话。”

“你是不是有个印第安女友,尼基[58]?”乔问。

“没有。”

“他是有的,爸爸。”弗兰克说,“普鲁登斯·米切尔就是他的女友。”

“不是的。”

“他每天都去见她。”

“没有的事。”黑暗中尼克坐在两个男孩之间,心里感到空落落的,但听见别人说普鲁登斯·米切尔是他的女友,内心也有几分高兴。“她不是我的女友!”他说。

“听他说?!”卡尔说,“我亲眼看见他俩天天约会来着。”

“卡尔自己找不到女友嘛,”他母亲抢白道,“印第安女友也找不到嘛。”

卡尔不作声了。

“卡尔在交女友方面是个门外汉。”弗兰克说。

“你闭嘴。”

“不沾女色是对的,卡尔。”乔·盖默说,“好色之徒一无所成。要学就学你老爹。”

“啧,看你油嘴滑舌的。”大篷车颠了一下,盖默太太趁势靠在了丈夫身上,“想当初,你还不是交了一大堆女朋友。”

“我敢打赌,爸爸绝不会交印第安女友。”

“你可别想这个,”乔说,“你最好盯牢普鲁蒂[59],尼克。”

乔说完,他妻子低声对他耳语了些什么,他听后哈哈大笑。

“你在笑什么?”弗兰克问。

“别告诉他,盖默。”他妻子警告道。乔又是一阵大笑。

“尼基可以有普鲁登斯做女友,”乔·盖默接下来说道,“我嘛,有你这么个好姑娘做太太。”

“这样说话才像回事。”盖默太太说。

马拉着车在沙路上吃力地前行。乔在黑暗中扬着鞭子。

“拉呀,用劲拉!明天还有更重的活儿要干呢!”

马加快了步伐,在长长的下山的路上小跑起来,马车一颠一颠的。到家后,大伙儿下了车。盖默太太开了门锁,摸黑进了屋,拿出来了一盏灯。卡尔和尼克把车尾装的东西卸了下来。弗兰克坐上驭手座,将大篷车赶到牲口棚里,给马卸了套。尼克走上台阶,推开厨房的门。盖默太太正在生炉子,往木柴上浇煤油,听见门响便转过了头。

“再见,盖默太太,”尼克说,“谢谢你们让我搭车回来。”

“别见外,尼基。”

“今天玩得很高兴。”

“有你我们也很高兴。你不留下来吃饭吗?”

“不了,我还是走吧。爸爸等我恐怕都等急了。”

“好吧,那就不留你了。你去把卡尔喊来,好吗?”

“好的。”

“再见,尼基。”

“再见,盖默太太。”

尼克出了房门,去了牲口棚。乔和弗兰克正在那儿挤牛奶。

“再见,”尼克说,“今天我过得很愉快。”

“再见,尼克。”乔·盖默大声回答道,“你不留下来吃饭吗?”

“不了,我不能待着了。你能不能告诉卡尔,就说他妈妈叫他呢?”

“没问题。再见,尼基。”

尼克光着脚沿着小路走了,穿过牲口棚旁边的那片草地。小路平展,赤脚踩在露水上凉丝丝的。到了草地的尽头,他翻过栅栏,经过一条水沟,踩在泥浆里,脚上满是泥。随后,他爬上坡,进了干燥的山毛榉林子直往前走,远远望见了自家的灯光。他翻过栅栏,绕到前门跟前。透过窗户,他瞧见爸爸正坐在桌前,借着那盏大灯的灯光在看书,于是便推开门走了进去。

“回来啦,尼基?”他的父亲说,“玩得高兴吧?”

“简直棒极了,爸爸。今年的国庆庆典非常隆重。”

“饿了吧?”

“那还用说。”

“你的鞋怎么啦?”

“我把鞋忘在盖默家的马车上了。”

“来,到厨房里来。”

尼克的父亲端起灯走在前边,到了冰柜那儿停下来,揭开冰柜的盖。尼克径自进了厨房。他的父亲端来一盘冷鸡肉和一罐牛奶,放在尼克面前的桌子上,把手里的灯也放下了。

“还有点儿馅饼呢。”他说,“要吃吗?”

“棒极啦。”

父亲傍着那张铺着油布的桌子在椅子上坐下,巨大的身影投射在厨房的墙壁上。

“球赛是谁赢了?”

“佩托斯基队五比三获胜。”

父亲看着尼克吃饭,把罐子里的牛奶倒进他的杯子里。尼克喝了奶,用餐巾擦擦嘴。父亲从架子上取来馅饼,给尼克切了一大块。那是越橘馅饼。

“你今天干什么啦,爸爸?”

“上午去钓了会儿鱼。”

“钓到什么鱼啦?”

“只不过几条鲈鱼。”

父亲坐在那儿看着尼克吃馅饼。

“下午干什么了?”尼克问。

“到印第安人的营地那儿转了转。”

“见到什么人了吗?”

“印第安人全跑到城里酗酒去了。”

“一个人也没见到吗?”

“倒是见到你的朋友普鲁蒂了。”

“在哪里见到的?”

“她和弗兰克·沃什伯恩在林子里。我是在那儿碰见他们的。他们玩得挺高兴的。”

父亲不再看他。

“他们在干什么?”

“我没停下来仔细看。”

“告诉我,他们在干什么?”

“不知道,”父亲说,“只听见他们跑动的声音。”

“你怎么知道是他们?”

“我看见他们了。”

“我还以为你说没看见他们呢。”

“哦,对,我看见他们了。”

“究竟是谁和她在一起?”尼克问。

“弗兰克·沃什伯恩。”

“他们是不是……是不是……”

“是不是什么?”

“他们是不是玩得很开心?”

“我想是的。“

父亲从桌旁站起身,拉开厨房的纱门出去了,回来时见尼克在望着盘子发呆,眼泪汪汪的。

“再吃点儿吧?”父亲拿起刀子为他切馅饼。

“不吃了。”尼克说。

“还是再吃一块吧。”

“不吃了,一口也不想吃了。”

父亲把餐桌收拾干净了。

“他们在林子里的哪块地方?”尼克问。

“营地后边。”尼克呆呆地望着自己的盘子。父亲说:“你还是睡觉去吧,尼克。”

“好的。”

尼克回到自己的寝室,脱掉衣服,上了床。他听见父亲在客厅里走来走去的声音。他趴在床上,把脸埋在枕头里。

“我的心碎了。”他想,“假如过于伤心,我的心一定会碎的。”

过了一会儿,他听见父亲吹灭了灯,回房间去了。林子里风声呼啸,一阵风从纱窗刮进来,带来了丝丝的凉意。他把脸埋在枕头上趴了很长时间。后来,他忘掉了一切,不再去想普鲁登斯,最终进入了梦乡。半夜醒来,他听见铁杉树林间风声呼呼作响,湖里起了浪,在拍打着湖岸,听着听着就又睡着了。次日早晨,狂风大作,湖水波翻浪涌,漫到了岸上来。他躺在床上,躺了很长时间才记起自己的心已经碎了。

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