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(单词翻译:双击或拖选)
As the days passed it occurred to her that she had never met anyone, male or female, that seemed to understand her moods and needs so completely or so wordlessly. Their tastes coincided. While Tony had enjoyed violent movies of the Godfather type, Ed seemed more into comedy or non-violent dramas. He took her to the circus one night when she was feeling low and they had a hilariously1 wonderful time. Study dates were real study dates, not just an excuse to grope on the third floor of the Union. He took her to dances and seemed especially good at the old ones, which she loved. They won a fifties Stroll trophy2 at a Homecoming Nostalgia3 Dance. More important, he seemed to understand when she wanted to be passionate4. He didn't force her or hurry her; she never got the feeling that she had with some of the other boys she had gone out with - that there was an inner timetable for sex, beginning with a kiss good night on Date 1 and ending with a night in some friend's borrowed apartment on Date 10. The Mill Street apartment was Ed's exclusively, a third-floor walkup. They went there often, and Elizabeth went without the feeling that she was walking into some minor-league Don Juan's passion pit. He didn't push. He honestly seemed to want what she wanted, when she wanted it. And things progressed.
When school reconvened following the semester break, Alice seemed strangely preoccupied5. Several times that afternoon before Ed came to pick her up - they were going out to dinner - Elizabeth looked up to see her room-mate frowning down at a large manila envelope on her desk. Once Elizabeth almost asked about it, then decided6 not to. Some new project probably.
It was snowing hard when Ed brought her back to the dorm.
'Great,' he said, and kissed her. 'I love you, Beth.'
'Love you, too.'
'Would you like to stay over?' Ed asked evenly. 'Tomorrow night?'
'All right, Ed.' She looked into his eyes. 'Whatever you want.'
'Good,' he said quietly. 'Sleep well, kid.'
'You, too.'
She expected that Alice would be asleep and entered the room quietly, but Alice was up and sitting at her desk.
'Alice, are you okay?'
'I have to talk to you, Liz. About Ed.'
'What about him?'
Alice said carefully, 'I think that when I finish talking to you we're not going to be friends any mpre. For me, that's giving up a lot. So I want you to listen carefully.'
'Then maybe you better not say anything.'
'I have to try.'
Alice only looked at her.
'Were you jealous of us?'
'No. If I'd been jealous of you and your dates, I would have moved out two years ago.'
Elizabeth looked at her, perplexed9. She knew what Alice said was the truth. And she suddenly felt afraid.
'Two things made me wonder about Ed Hamner,' Alice said. 'First, you wrote me about Tony's death and said how lucky it was that I'd seen Ed at the Lakewood Theatre. How he came right over to Boothbay and really helped you out. But I never saw him, Liz. I was never near the Lakewood Theatre last summer.'
'But...
'But how did he know Tony was dead? I have no idea. I only know he didn't get it from me. The other thing was that eidetic-memory business. My God, Liz, he can't even remember which socks he's got on!'
'That's a different thing altogether,' Liz said stiffly. 'It -' 'Ed Hamner was in Las Vegas last summer,' Alice said softly. 'He came back in mid-July and took a motel room in Pemaquid. That's just across the Boothbay Harbour town line. Almost as if he were waiting for you to need him.'
'That's crazy!' And how would you know Ed was in Las Vegas?'
'I ran into Shirley D'Antonio just before school started. She worked in the Pines Restaurant, which is just across from the playhouse. She said she never saw anybody who looked like Ed Hamner. So I've known he's been lying to you about several things. And so I went to my father and laid it out and he gave me the go-ahead.'
'To do what?' Elizabeth asked, bewildered.
'To hire a private detective agency.'
Elizabeth was on her feet. 'No more, Alice. That's it.' She would catch the bus into town, spend tonight at Ed's apartment. She had only been waiting for him to ask her, anyway.
'At least know,' Alice said. 'Then make your own decision.'
'I don't have to know anything except he's kind and good and -'
'Love is blind, huh?' Alice said, and smiled bitterly. 'Well, maybe I happen to love you a little, Liz. Have you ever thought of that?'
Elizabeth turned and looked at her for a long moment. 'If you do, you've got a funny way of showing it,' she said. 'Go on, then. Maybe you're right. Maybe I owe you that much. Goon.'
'You knew him a long time ago,' Alice said quietly. 'I. . . what?'
'P.S. 119, Bridgeport, Connecticut.' (P.S. 119 = Public School 119)
Elizabeth was struck dumb. She and her parents had lived in Bridgeport for six years, moving to their present home the year after she had finished the second grade. She had gone to P.S. 119, but -'Alice, are you sure?'
'Do you remember him?'
'No, of course not!' But she did remember the feeling she'd had the first time she had seen Ed - the feeling of deja' vu.
'The pretty ones never remember the ugly ducklings, I guess. Maybe he had a crush on you. You were in the first grade with him. Liz. Maybe he sat in the back of the room and just . . . watched you. Or on the playground. Just a little nothing kid who already wore glasses and probably braces10 and you couldn't even remember him, but I'll bet he remembers you.'
Elizabeth said, 'What else?'
'The agency traced him from school fingerprints11. After that it was just a matter of finding people and talking to them. The operative assigned to the case said he couldn't understand some of what he was getting. Neither do I. Some of it's scary.'
'Ed Hammer, Sr., was a compulsive gambler. He worked for a top-line advertising13 agency in New York and then moved to Bridgeport sort of on the run. The operative says that almost every big-money poker14 game and high-priced book in the city was holding his markers.'
Elizabeth closed her eyes. 'These people really saw you got a full measure of dirt for your dollar, didn't they?'
'Maybe. Anyway, Ed's father got in another jam in Bridgeport. It was gambling15 again, but this time he got mixed up with a big-time loan shark. He got a broken leg and a broken arm somehow. The operative says he doubts it was an accident.'
'Anything else?' Elizabeth asked. 'Child beating? Embezzlement16?'
'He landed a job with a two-bit Los Angeles ad agency in 1961. That was a little too close to Las Vegas. He started to spend his weekends there, gambling heavily . . . and losing. Then he started taking Ed Junior with him. And he started to win.'
'You're making all of this up. You must be.'
Alice tapped the report in front of her. 'It's all here, Liz. Some of it wouldn't stand up in court, but the operative says none of the people he talked with would have a reason to lie. Ed's father called Ed his "good luck charm". At first, nobody objected to the boy even though it was illegal for him to be in the casinos. His father was a prize fish. But then the father started sticking just to roulette, playing only odd-even and red-black. By the end of the year the boy was
off-limits in every casino on the strip. And his father took up a new kind of gambling.'
'What?'
'The stock market. When the Hamners moved to L.A. in the middle of 1961, they were living in a ninety-dollar-a-month cheese box and Mr Hamner was driving a '52 Chevrolet. At the end of 1962, just sixteen months later, he had quit his job and they were living in their own home in San Jose. Mr Hamner was driving a brand-new Thunderbird and Mrs Hamner had a Volkswagen. You see, it's against the law for a small boy to be in the Nevada casinos, but no one could take the stock-market page away from him.'
'Are you implying that Ed. . . that he could. . . Alice, you're crazy!'
'I'm not implying anything. Unless maybe just that he knew what his daddy needed.'
I know what you need.
'Mrs Hamner spent the next six years in and out of various mental institutions. Supposedly for nervous disorders19, but the operative talked to an orderly who said she was pretty close to psychotic. She claimed her son was the devil's henchman. She stabbed him with a pair of scissors in 1964. Tried to kill him. She. . . Liz? Liz, what is it?'
'The scar,' she muttered. 'We went swimming at the University pool on an open night about a month ago. He's got a deep, dimpled scar on his shoulder. . . here.' She put her hand just above her left breast. 'He said . . .' A wave of nausea20 tried to climb up her throat and she had to wait for it to recede21 before she could go on. 'He said he fell on a picket22 fence when he was a little boy.'
'Shall I go on?'
'Finish, why not? What can it hurt now?'
'His mother was released from a very plush mental institution in the San Joaquin Valley in 1968. The three of them went on a vacation. They stopped at a picnic spot on Route 101. The boy was collecting firewood when she drove the car right over the edge of the drop-off above the ocean with both her and her husband in it. It might have been an attempt to run Ed down. By then he was nearly eighteen. His father left him a million-dollar stock port-folio. Ed came east a year and a half later and enrolled23 here. And that's the end.'
'No more skeletons in the closet?'
'Liz, aren't there enough?'
She got up. 'No wonder he never wants to mention his family. But you had to dig up the corpse24, didn't you?'
'You're blind,' Alice said. Elizabeth was putting on her coat. 'I suppose you're going to him.'
'Right.'
'Because you love him.'
'Right.'
Alice crossed the room and grabbed her arm. 'Will you get that sulky, petulant25 look off your face for a second and think! Ed Hamner is able to do things the rest of us only dream about. He got his father a stake at roulette and made him rich playing the stock market. He seems to be able to will winning. Maybe he's some kind of low-grade psychic26. Maybe he's got precognition. I don't know. There are people who seem to have a dose of that. Liz, hasn't it ever occurred to you that he's forced you to love him?'
Liz turned to her slowly. 'I've never heard anything so ridicul6us in my life.'
'Is it? He gave you that sociology test the same way he gave his father the right side of the roulette board! He was never enrolled in any sociology course! I checked. He did it because it was the only way he could make you take him seriously!'
'Stop it!' Liz cried. She clapped her hands over her ears.
'He knew the test, and he knew when Tony was killed, and he knew you were going home on a plane! He even knew just the right psychological moment to step back into your life last October.'
Elizabeth pulled away from her and opened the door.
'Please,' Alice said. 'Please, Liz, listen. I don't know how he can do those things. I doubt if even he knows for sure. He might not mean to do you any harm, but he already has. He's made you love him by knowing every secret thing you want and need, and that's not love at all. That's rape27.
Elizabeth slammed the door and ran down the stairs.
She caught the last bus of the evening into town. It was snowing more heavily than ever, and the bus lumbered28 through the drifts that had blown across the road like a crippled beetle29. Elizabeth sat in the back, one of only six or seven passengers, a thousand thoughts in her mind.
Menthol cigarettes. The stock exchange. The way he had known her mother's nickname was Deedee. A little boy sitting at the back of a first-grade classroom, making sheep's eyes at a vivacious30 little girl too young to under-stand that - I know what you need.
No. No. No. I do love him!
Did she? Or was she simply delighted at being with someone who always ordered the right thing, took her to the right movie, and did not want to go anywhere or do anything she didn't? Was he just a kind of psychic mirror, showing her only what she wanted to see? The presents he gave her were always the right presents. When the weather had turned suddenly cold and she had been longing31 for a hair dryer32, who gave her one? Ed Hamner, of course. Just happened to see one on sale in Day's, he had said. She, of course, had been delighted.
That's not love at all That's rape.
The wind clawed at her face as she stepped out on the corner of Main and Mill, and she winced33 against it as the bus drew away with a smooth diesel34 growl35. Its tail-lights twinkled briefly36 in the snowy night for a moment and were gone.
She had never felt so lonely in her life.
He wasn't home.
She stood outside his door after five minutes of knocking, nonplussed37. It occurred to her that she had no idea what Ed did or whom he saw when he wasn't with her. The subject had never come up.
Maybe he's raising the price of another hair dryer in a poker game.
With sudden decision she stood on her toes and felt along the top of the door-jamb for the spare key she knew he kept there. Her fingers stumbled over it and it fell to the hall floor with a clink.
She picked it up and used it in the lock.
The apartment looked different with Ed gone - artificial, like a stage set. It had often amused her that someone who cared so little about his personal appearance should have such a neat, picture-book domicile. Almost as if he had decorated it for her and not himself. But of course that was crazy. Wasn't it?
It occurred to her again, as if for the first time, how much she liked the chair she sat in when they studied or watched TV. It was just right, the way Baby Bear's chair had been for Goldilocks. Not too hard, not too soft. Just right. Like everything else she associated with Ed.
There were two doors opening off the living room. One went to the kitchenette, the other to his bedroom. The wind whistled outside, making the old apartment building creak and settle.
In the bedroom, she stared at the brass38 bed. It looked neither too hard nor too soft, but just right. An insidious39 voice smirked40: It's almost too perfect, isn't it?
She went to the bookcase and ran her eye aimlessly over the titles. One jumped at her eyes and she pulled it out:
Dance Crazes of the Fifties.
The book opened cleanly to a point some three-quarters through. A section titled 'The Stroll' had been circled heavily in red grease pencil and in the margin41 the word BETH had been written in large, almost accusatory letters.
I ought to go now, she told herself. I can still save something. If he came back now I could never look him in the face again and Alice would win. Then she'd really get her money's worth.
But she couldn't stop, and knew it. Things had gone too far.
She went to the closet and turned the knob, but it didn't give. Locked.
On the off chance, she stood on tiptoe again and felt along the top of the door. And her fingers felt a key. She took it down and somewhere inside a voice said very clearly: Don't do this. She thought of Bluebeard's wife and what she had found when she opened the wrong door. But it was indeed too late; if she didn't proceed now she would always wonder. She opened the closet.
And had the strangest feeling that this was where the real Ed Hamner, Jr. had been hiding all the time.
The closet was a mess - a jumbled42 rickrack of clothes, books, an unstrung tennis racket, a pair of tattered43 tennis shoes, old prelims and reports tossed helter-skelter, a spilled pouch44 of Borkum Riff pipe tobacco. His green fatigue45 jacket had been flung in the far corner.
She picked up one of the books and blinked-at the title. The Golden Bough46. Another. Ancient Rites47, Modern Mysteries. Another. Haitian Voodoo. And a last one, bound in old, cracked leather, the title almost rubbed off the binding48 by much handling, smelling vaguely49 like rotted fish: Necronomicon. She opened it at random50, gasped51, and flung it away, the obscenity still hanging before her eyes. -
More to regain52 her composure than anything else, she reached for the green fatigue jacket, not admitting to herself that she meant to go through its pockets. But as she lifted it she saw something else. A small tin box . .
Curiously53, she picked it up and turned it over in her hands, hearing things rattle54 inside. It was the kind of box a young boy might choose to keep his treasures in. Stamped in raised letters on the tin bottom were the words 'Bridgeport Candy Co.' She opened it.
The doll was on top. The Elizabeth doll.
The doll was dressed in a scrap55 of red nylon, part of a scarf she had lost two or three months back. At a movie with Ed. The arms were pipe cleaners that had been draped in stuff that looked like blue moss56. - Graveyard57 moss, perhaps. There was hair on the doll's head, but that was wrong. It was fine white - flax, taped to the doll's pink gum-eraser head. Her own hair was sandy blonde and coarser than this. This was more the way her hair had been -When she had been a little girl.
She swallowed and there was a clicking in her throat. Hadn't they all been issued scissors in the first grade, tiny scissors with rounded blade, just right for a child's hand? Had that long-ago little boy crept up behind her, perhaps at nap time, and -Elizabeth put the doll aside and looked in the box again.
There was a blue poker chip with a strange six-sided pattern drawn58 on it in red ink. A tattered newspaper obituary59 - Mr and Mrs Edward Hamner. The two of them smiled meaninglessly out of the accompanying photo, and she saw that the same six-sided pattern had been drawn across their faces, this time in black ink, like a pall60. Two more dolls, one male, one female. The similarity to the faces in the obituary photograph was hideous61, unmistakable.
And something else.
She fumbled62 it out, and her fingers shook so badly she almost dropped it. A tiny sound escaped her.
It was a model car, the sort small boys buy in drugstores and hobby shops and then assemble with airplane glue. This one was a Fiat63. It had been painted red. And a piece of what looked like one of Tony's shirts had been taped to the front.
She turned the model car upside down. Someone had hammered the underside to fragments.
'So you found it, you ungrateful bitch.'
He was standing65 in the doorway66, looking at her. She had never seen such a look of hate on a human face.
She said, 'You killed Tony.'
He grinned unpleasantly. 'Do you think you could prove it?'
'It doesn't matter,' she said, surprised at the steadiness of her own voice. 'I know. And I never want to see you again. Ever. And if you do. . . anything. . . to anyone else, I'll know. And I'll fix you. Somehow.'
His face twisted. 'That's the thanks I get. I gave you everything you ever wanted. Things no other man could have. Admit it. I made you perfectly67 happy.'
'You killed Tony!,
She screamed it at him.
He took another step into the room. 'Yes, and I did it for you. And what are you, Beth? You don't know what love is. I loved you from the first time I saw you, over seventeen years ago. Could Tony say that? It's never been hard for you. You're pretty. You never had to think about wanting or needing or about being lonely. You never had to find. other ways to get the things you had to have. There was always a Tony to give them to you. All you ever had to do was smile and say please.' His voice rose a note. 'I could never get what I wanted that way. Don't you think I tried? It didn't work with my father. He just wanted more and more. He never even kissed me good night or gave me a hug until I made him rich. And my mother was the same way. I gave her her marriage back, but was that enough for her? She hated me! She wouldn't come near me! She said I was unnatural68! I gave her nice things but. . . Beth, don't do that! Don't. . . dooon't -'
She stepped on the Elizabeth doll and crushed it, turning her heel on it. Something inside her flared69 in agony, and then was gone. She wasn't afraid of him now. He was just a small, shrunken boy in a young man's body. And his socks didn't match.
'I don't think you can do anything to me now, Ed,' she told him. 'Not now. Am I wrong?'
He turned from her. 'Go on,' he said weakly. 'Get out. But leave my box. At least do that.'
'I'll leave the box. But not the things in it.' She walked past him. His shoulders twitched70, as if he might turn and try to grab her, but then they slumped71.
As she reached the second-floor landing, he came to the top of the stairs and called shrilly72 after her: 'Go on then! But you'll never be satisfied with any man after me! And when your looks go and men stop trying to give you anything you want, you'll wish for me! You'll think of what you threw away!'
She went down the stairs and out into the snow. Its coldness felt good against her face. It was a two-mile walk back to the campus, but she didn't care. She wanted the walk, wanted the cold. She wanted it to make her clean.
In a queer, twisted way she felt sorry for him a little boy with a huge power crammed73 inside a dwarfed74 spirit. A little boy who tried to make humans behave like toy soldiers and then stamped on them in a fit of temper when they wouldn't or when they found out.
And what was she? Blessed with all the things he was not, through no fault of his or effort of her own? She remembered the way she had reacted to Alice, trying blindly and jealously to hold on to something that was easy rather than good, not caring, not caring.
When your looks go and men strop trying to give you anything you want, you'll wish for me!. . .I know what you need.
But was she so small that she actually needed so little?
Please, dear God, no.
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hilariously
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trophy
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| n.优胜旗，奖品，奖杯，战胜品，纪念品 | |
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nostalgia
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| n.怀乡病，留恋过去，怀旧 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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popcorn
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| n.爆米花 | |
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kindle
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| v.点燃，着火 | |
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perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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braces
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| n.吊带，背带；托架( brace的名词复数 )；箍子；括弧；（儿童）牙箍v.支住( brace的第三人称单数 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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fingerprints
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| n.指纹( fingerprint的名词复数 )v.指纹( fingerprint的第三人称单数 ) | |
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primly
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| adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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advertising
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| n.广告业；广告活动 a.广告的；广告业务的 | |
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poker
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| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
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gambling
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| n.赌博；投机 | |
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embezzlement
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| n.盗用，贪污 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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disorders
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| n.混乱( disorder的名词复数 )；凌乱；骚乱；（身心、机能）失调 | |
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nausea
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| n.作呕，恶心；极端的憎恶(或厌恶) | |
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recede
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| vi.退(去)，渐渐远去；向后倾斜，缩进 | |
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picket
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| n.纠察队；警戒哨；v.设置纠察线；布置警卫 | |
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enrolled
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| adj.入学登记了的v.[亦作enrol]( enroll的过去式和过去分词 )；登记，招收，使入伍（或入会、入学等），参加，成为成员；记入名册；卷起，包起 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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petulant
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| adj.性急的，暴躁的 | |
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psychic
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| n.对超自然力敏感的人；adj.有超自然力的 | |
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rape
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| n.抢夺，掠夺，强奸；vt.掠夺，抢夺，强奸 | |
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lumbered
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| 砍伐（lumber的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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beetle
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| n.甲虫，近视眼的人 | |
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vivacious
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| adj.活泼的，快活的 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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dryer
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| n.干衣机，干燥剂 | |
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winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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diesel
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| n.柴油发动机，内燃机 | |
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growl
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| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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nonplussed
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| adj.不知所措的，陷于窘境的v.使迷惑( nonplus的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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insidious
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| adj.阴险的，隐匿的，暗中为害的，（疾病）不知不觉之间加剧 | |
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smirked
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| v.傻笑( smirk的过去分词 ) | |
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41
margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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42
jumbled
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| adj.混乱的；杂乱的 | |
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43
tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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44
pouch
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| n.小袋，小包，囊状袋；vt.装...入袋中，用袋运输；vi.用袋送信件 | |
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45
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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46
bough
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| n.大树枝，主枝 | |
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47
rites
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| 仪式，典礼( rite的名词复数 ) | |
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48
binding
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| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
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49
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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50
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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51
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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52
regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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53
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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54
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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55
scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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56
moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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57
graveyard
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| n.坟场 | |
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58
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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59
obituary
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| n.讣告，死亡公告；adj.死亡的 | |
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60
pall
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| v.覆盖，使平淡无味；n.柩衣，棺罩；棺材；帷幕 | |
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61
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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62
fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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63
fiat
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| n.命令，法令，批准；vt.批准，颁布 | |
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64
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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65
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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66
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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67
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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68
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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69
Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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70
twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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71
slumped
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| 大幅度下降，暴跌( slump的过去式和过去分词 )； 沉重或突然地落下[倒下] | |
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72
shrilly
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| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
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73
crammed
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| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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74
dwarfed
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| vt.（使）显得矮小（dwarf的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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75
scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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