美国故事 SENEWS-2005-0730-Feature（在线收听）

And now the weekly Special English program "American Stories".

Our story today is called “Marshal in Rome", it was written by May Brisken. Here is Keg Lant with our story.

Often when he stood next to his wife, Marshal reminded me of an unhappy dog. His eyes looked as if he wanted to please her, but he was afraid he would not. His wife was about 35 years old and very pretty. Her name was March, but Marshal called her Ariel. No one knew why he did this. I wanted to ask him. My husband Robert told me not to. He said March and Marshal talked too much already.

That summer we were traveling through Italy with a group of other American tourists. Marshal and his wife were the only people our age in the group. Marshal was 42 years old. He had a weak heart. I did not understand why he always carried March's heavy suitcases and all her packages, but Robert would not let me ask him. Robert did not like March, because she wanted to buy everything she saw, and he did not like Marshal, because he was rich enough to buy March whatever she wanted.

The day we arrived in Rome, Robert made me promise not to talk to Marshal and March. It was our last day of the trip. Robert said if Marshal and March toured Rome with us, it would ruin a day for him. I said "okay."

We left the hotel early in the morning before Marshal and March woke up. We were out all day visiting museums, monuments and churches. When we returned to our hotel that evening, we met Marshal and March. March was trying to open the door to their room. Marshal could not help her. He was carrying about 8 bags of clothing that March had just bought. Robert stood there with his hands in his pockets.

"Did you empty another store, March?” he said.

Marshal laughed, March did not.

"What did you buy Bunny today, Robert?" she asked.

I took the key from her hand. "Here," I said, “let me help you."

Marshal looked over the top of the packages.

“Bunny, where are you and Robert going for dinner?"

I turned the key in the lock.

“We, we heard about this wonderful little Sicilian restaurant." I said as I opened the door. "Would you like to come with us?" I wanted to punish Robert for not helping March with the door.

Marshal smiled, "I have never eaten Sicilian food, shall we go, Ariel?”

But Robert wanted his freedom. "March would not like this restaurant," he said, "it is not elegant."

Now I was angry, "but the food is very tasty." I said.

Marshal looked at March. "Please, honey."

March looked at Robert and then at Marshal. "Okay, okay, we will go with you, but I will need at least one hour to get dressed," she said.

Two hours later, she was finally ready to leave. By the time we reached the restaurant, we all were very hungry. March pointed to something on her menu.

"What is this dish?" she asked a waiter. The waiter just shook his head and smiled at her.

"He does not speak English, March." Robert said.

March lifted the napkin. "Eh...", she said.

We followed her eyes and discovered a small hole in the table cloth. Someone had sewed the hole very nicely by hand. "March," I said," this table cloth is white, it is clean. It has even been ironed."

March was not listening to me; she continued to read the menu. “What is caponata?” she asked.

I said, "it is eggplant, olives and tomatoes.

"I hate eggplant," said March.

Robert moved closer to her, "why not ask for a hamburger and a Coke-Cola, March?" Marshal touched her arm.

“Ariel, honey, put down the menu."

"Ok, let Bunny order for all of us.”

I did not speak Italian, but I took the menu and began pointing to it. The waiter smiled as he wrote down our order.

"You will see," I told March, "there will be plenty of food you will like."

And of course, there was. We ate pasta, caponata, veal and salad. We drank wine, we ordered dessert and coffee. March loved everything.

After we paid the bill, she said, "You know that was
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