The Voice from the Wall
LenaSt.Clair
WhenIwaslittle,mymothertoldmemygreat-grandfatherhadsentencedabeggartodieintheworstpossibleway,andthatlaterthedeadmancamebadkilledmygreat-grandfather.Eitherthat,orhediedofinfluenzaoer.
Iusedtoplayoutthebeggarslastmomentsoverandaininmyhead.Inmymind,Isawtheexecutioripoffthemansshirtandleadhimintotheopenyard."Thistraitor,"readtheexecutioner,"issenteodiethedeathofathousandcuts."Butbeforehecouldevenraisethesharpswordtowhittlehislifeaway,theyfoundthebeggarsmindhadalreadybrokenintoathousandpieces.Afewdayslater,mygreat-grandfatherlookedupfromhisbooksandsawthissamemanlookinglikeasmashedvasehastilyputbacktogether."Astheswordwascuttingmedown,"saidtheghost,"IthoughtthiswastheworstIwouldeverhavetoeIwaswrong.Theworstisoherside."Andthedeadmanembracedmygreat-grandfatherwiththejaggedpiecesofhisarmandpulledhimthroughthewall,toshowhimwhathemeant.
Ionceaskedmymotherhowhereallydied.Shesaid,"Inbed,veryquickly,afterbeingsickforonlytwodays."
"No,no,Imeaherman.Howwashekilled?Didtheysliceoffhisskinfirst?Didtheyuseacleavertochopuphisbones?Didhescreamandfeelallohousandcuts?"
"Annh!WhydoyouAmerishaveonlythesemorbidthoughtsinyourmind?"criedmymotherinese."Thatmanhasbeendeadforalmostseventyyears.Whatdoesitmatterhowhedied?"
Ialwaysthoughtitmattered,toknowwhatistheworstpossiblethingthathappentoyou,toknowhowyouavoidit,tonotbedrawnbythemagicoftheunspeakable.Because,evenasayoungchild,Icouldseheunspokenterrorsthatsurroundedourhouse,theohatchasedmymotheruntilshehididarkerofhermind.Andstilltheyfoundher.Iwatched,overtheyears,astheydevouredher,piecebypietilshedisappearedandbecameaghost.
AsIrememberit,thedarksideofmymothersprangfromthebasementinouroldhouseinOakland.Iwasfiveandmymothertriedtohideitfromme.Shebarricadedthedoorwithawoodenchair,secureditwithaandtwotypesofkeylocks.AnditbecamesomysteriousthatIspentallmyenergiesunravelingthisdoor,untilthedayIwasfinallyabletopryitopenwithmysmallfingers,onlytoimmediatelyfallheadlongintothedarkchasm.AnditwasonlyafterIstoppedscreaming—Ihadseenthebloodofmynoseonmymothersshoulder—onlythendidmymothertellmeaboutthebadmanwholivedinthebasementandwhyIshouldneveropenthedain.Hehadlivedthereforthousandsofyears,shesaid,andwassoevilandhungrythathadmymothernotrescuedmesoquickly,thisbadmanwouldhaveplantedfivebabiesiheenusallinasix-coursemeal,tossingourbohedirtyfloor.
AndafterthatIbegaerriblethings.Isawthesethingswithmyeseeyes,thepartofmeIgotfrommymother.IsawdevilsdangfeverishlybehaholeIhadduginthesandbox.Isawthatlightninghadeyesandsearchedtostrikedownlittlechildren.Isawabeetlewearingthefaceofachild,whichIpromptlysquashedwiththewheelofmytricycle.AndwhenIbecameolder,IcouldseethingsthatCausasiangirlsatschooldidnot.Monkeyringsthatwouldsplitintwoandsendaswingingchildhurtlingthroughspace.Tetherballsthatcouldsplashagirlsheadallovertheplaygroundinfrontoflaughingfriends.
IdidnttellanyoneaboutthethingsIsaw,notevenmymother.MostpeopledidntknowIwashalfese,maybebecausemylast.Clair.Whenpeoplefirstsawme,theythoughtIlookedlikemyfather,English-Irish,big-bonedanddelicateatthesametime.Butiftheylookedreallyclose,iftheykhattheywerethere,theycouldseetheeseparts.Insteadofhavingcheekslikemyfatherssharp-edgedpoints,mineweresmoothasbeachpebbles.Ididnthavehisstraw-yellowhairorhiswhiteskimyclookedtoopale,likesomethingthatwasoncedarkerandhadfadedinthesun.
Andmyeyes,mymavememyeyes,noeyelids,asiftheywerecarvedonajack-o-lanternwithtwoswiftcutsofashortknife.Iusedtopushmyeyesinonthesidestomakethemrounder.OrIdopenthemverywideuntilIcouldseethewhiteparts.ButwhenIwalkedaroundthehouselikethat,myfatheraskedmewhyIlookedsoscared.
Ihaveaphotoofmymotherwiththissamescaredlook.MyfathersaidthepicturewastakenwhenMawasfirstreleasedfromAngelIslandImmigrationStatioayedthereforthreeweeks,untiltheycouldprocessherpapersaermihershewasaWarBride,aDisplacedPerson,aStudent,orthewifeofaese-Americitizen.MyfathersaidtheydidnthaverulesfordealingwiththeesewifeofaCaucasiancitizen.Somehow,iheydeclaredheraDisplacedPerson,lostinaseaofimmigrationcategories.
Mymotheralkedaboutherlifeina,butmyfathersaidhesavedherfromaterriblelifethere,sedyshecouldnotspeakabout.Myfatherproudlynamedherinherimmigrationpapers:BettySt.Clair,crossingouthergivennameofGuYing-ying.Andthedownthewrongbirthyear,1916insteadof1914.So,withthesweepofapen,mymotherlosthernameandbecameaDragoninsteadofaTiger.
Inthispictureyouseewhymymotherlooksdisplaced.Sheisclutgalargeclam-shapedbag,asthoughsomeonemightstealthisfromheraswellifsheislesswatchful.Shehasonanankle-lengthesedresswithmodestventsattheside.Andontopsheisweariernizedsuitjacket,awkwardlystylishonmymotherssmallbody,withitspaddedshoulders,widelapels,andoversizeclothbuttons.Thiswasmymothersweddingdress,agiftfrommyfather.Inthisoutfitshelooksasifshewereheringfroingtosomeplace.Herisbentdownandyouseetheprecisepartinherhair,awhitelinedrawnfromaboveherleftbrowtheheblackhorizonofherhead.
Ahoughherheadisbowed,humblei,hereyesarestaringuppastthecamera,wideopen.
"Whydoesshelookscared?"Iaskedmyfather.
Andmyfatherexplaiwasonlybecausehesaid"Cheese,"andmymotherwasstrugglingtokeephereyesopenuntiltheflashwentoff,tensedslater.
Mymotheroftenlookedthisway,waitingforsomethingtohappen,wearingthisscaredlook.Onlylatershelostthestruggletokeephereyesopen.
"Dontlookather,"saidmymotheraswewalkedthroughatowninOakland.Shehadgrabbedmyhandandpulledmeclosetoherbody.AndofcourseIlooked.Isawawomansittingonthesidewalk,leaningagainstabuilding.Shewasoldandyoungatthesametime,withdulleyesasthoughshehadnotsleptformanyyears.Andherfeetandherhands—thetipswereasblackasifshehaddippedtheminIndiaink.ButIkheywererotted.
"Whatdidshedotoherself?"Iwhisperedtomymother.
"Shemetabadman,"saidmymother."Shehadababyshedidntwant."
AndIkhatwasnottrue.Iknewmymothermadeupanythingtowarohelpmeavoidsomeunknowndanger.Mymothersawdangerihing,eveninotheresepeople.Wherewelivedandshopped,everyonespoketoneselish.MymotherwasfromWushi,nearShanghai.SoshespokeMandarinandalittlebitofEnglish.Myfather,whospokeonlyafewedeseexpressions,insistedmymotherlearnEnglish.Sowithhim,shespokeinmoodsaures,looksandsilences,andsometimesabinationofEnglishpunctuatedbyhesitationsandesefrustration:"Shwobuchulai"—Wordseout.Somyfatherwouldputwordsinhermouth.
"IthinkMomistryingtosayshestired,"hewouldwhisperwhenmymotherbecamemoody.
"Ithinkshessayihebestdarnfamilyinthetry!"hedexclaimwhenshehadcookedawonderfullyfragrantmeal.
Butwithme,erealone,mymotherwouldspeakinese,sayingthingsmyfathercouldnotpossiblyimagine.Icoulduandthewordsperfectly,butnotthemeanings.Ohoughtledtoahoute.
"Youmustnotwalkinanydirebuttoschoolandbae,"warnedmymotherwhenshedecidedIwasoldenoughtowalkbymyself.
"Why?"Iasked.
"Youtuahings,"shesaid.
"Whynot?"
"BecauseIhaventputitinyourmi."
"Whynot?"
"Aii-ya!Suchquestions!Becauseitistooterribletosider.Amangrabyouoffthestreets,sellyoutosomeoneelse,makeyouhaveababy.Thenyoullkillthebaby.Aheyfindthisbabyinagarbage,thenwhatbedone?Youllgotojail,diethere."
Ikhiswasnotatrueanswer.ButIalsomadeupliestopreventbadthingsfromhappeningiure.IoftenliedwhenIhadtotranslateforher,theendlessforms,instrus,noticesfromschool,telephonecalls."Shemmayisz?"—Whatmeaning?—sheaskedmewhenamanatagrocerystoreyelledatherforopeningupjarstosmelltheinsides.IwassoembarrassedItoldherthatesepeoplewerenotallowedtoshopthere.Whentheschoolsentanotieaboutapoliovaation,Itoldherthetimeandpladaddedthatallstudentswerenowrequiredtousemetallunchboxes,siheyhaddiscoveredoldpaperbagscarrypoliogerms.
"Weremovingupintheworld,"myfatherproudlyannouhisbeingtheoccasionofhispromotiontosalessupervisorofaclothingmanufacturer."Yourmotheristhrilled."
Andwedidmoveup,acrossthebaytoSanFrancisdupahillinNorthBeach,toanItalianneighborhood,wherethesidewalkwassosteepIhadtoleanintotheslanttogethomefromschooleachday.IwastenandIefulthatwemightbeabletoleavealltheoldfearsbehindinOakland.
Theapartmentbuildingwasthreestorieshigh,tartmentsperfloor.Ithadarenovatedfa鏰de,aretlayerofwhitestuccotoppedwithectedrowsofmetalfire-escapeladders.Butiwasold.Thefrontdoorwithitsnarroanesopeoamustylobbythatsmelledofeverybodyslifemixedtogether.Everybodymeantthehefrontdoorotheirlittlebuzzers:Anderson,Giordino,Hayman,Ricci,Sordour.Clair.Welivedonthemiddlefloor,stuckbetweencookihatfloatedupasoundsthatdrifteddown.Mybedroomfacedthestreet,andatnight,inthedark,Icouldseeinmymindanotherlife.Carsstrugglingtoclimbthesteep,fog-shroudedhill,gunningtheirdeepenginesandspinningtheirwheels.Loud,happypeople,laughing,puffing,gasping:"Arewealmostthere?"Abeaglescramblingtohisfeettostarthisyippingyowl,answeredafewsedslaterbyfiretrucksirensandanangrywomanhissing,"Sammy!Baddog!Hushnow!"Andwithallthissoothiability,Iwouldsoonfallasleep.
Mymotherwasnothappywiththeapartment,butIdidatfirst.Whenwemovedin,shebusiedherselfwithgettiled,arrangingthefurniture,unpagdishes,hangingpicturesonthewall.Ittookheraboutoneweek.Andsoohat,whensheandIwerewalkingtothebusstop,shemetamanwhothrewheroffbalance.
Hewasared-facedeseman,wobblingdownthesidewalkasifhewerelost.Hisrunnyeyessawusandhequicklystoodupstraightandthrewouthisarms,shouting,"Ifoundyou!SuzieWong,girlofmydreams!Hah!"Andwithhisarmsandmouthwideopeartedrushingtowardus.Mymotherdroppedmyhandandcoveredherbodywithherarmsasifshewerenaked,uodoanythingelse.Inthatmomentassheletgo,Istartedtoscream,seeingthisdangerousmanlungingcloser.Iwasstillscreamingaftertwolaughingmengrabbedthismanand,shakinghim,said,"Joe,stopit,forChrissake.Youresgthatpoorlittlegirlandhermaid."
Therestoftheday—whileridingonthebus,walkinginandoutofstores,shoppingforourdinner—mymothertrembled.Sheclutchedmyhandsotightlyithurt.Andoncewhegoofmyhandtotakeherwalletoutofherpurseatthecashregister,Istartedtoslipawaytolookatthedy.ShegrabbedmyhandbacksofastIkhatinstanthowsorryshewasthatshehadnotprotectedmebetter.
Assoohroceryshopping,shebegantoputthesaablesaway.Andthen,asifsomethingwerenotquiteright,sheremovedthesfromoneshelfandswitchedthemwiththesonanother.shewalkedbrisklyintothelivingroomandmovedalargeroundmirrorfromthewallfagthefrontdoortoawallbythesofa.
"Whatareyoudoing?"Iasked.
Shewhisperedsomethingineseabout"thingsnotbeingbalanced,"andIthoughtshemeanthowthingslooked,nothowthi.Andtheartedtomovethelargerpieces:thesofa,chairs,endtables,aesescrollofgoldfish.
"Whatsgoingonhere?"askedmyfatherwhenhecamehomefromwork.
"Shesmakingitlookbetter,"Isaid.
Aday,whenIcamehomefromschool,Isawshehadagainrearrangedeverything.Everythingwasinadifferentplace.Icouldseethatsometerribledangerlayahead.
"Whyareyoudoingthis?"Iaskedher,afraidshewouldgivemeatrueanswer.
Butshewhisperedsomeesenonseead:"Whehinggoesagainstyournature,youarenotinbalahishousewasbuilttoosteep,andabadwindfromthetopblowsallyourstrengthbackdownthehill.Soyouevergetahead.Youarealwaysrollingbackward."
Andtheartedpointingtothewallsanddoorsoftheapartment."Seehownarrowthisdoorwayis,likeahathasbeenstrangled.Afacesthistoiletroom,soallyourworthisflushedaway."
"Butwhatdoesitmean?Whatsgoingtohappenifitsnotbalanced?"Iaskedmymother.
Myfatherexplaiomelater."Yourmotherisjustpractigheringinstincts,"hesaid."Allmetit.Youllseewhenyoureolder."
Iwonderedwhymyfatherneverworried.Washeblind?WhydidmymotherandIseesomethingmore?
Andthenafewdayslater,Ifoundoutthatmyfatherhadbeenrightallalong.Icamehomefromschool,walkedintomybedroom,andsawit.Mymotherhadrearrangedmyroom.Mybedwasnolohewindowbutagainstawall.Andwheremybedoncewas—nowtherestoodausedcrib.Sothesecretdangerwasaballooningstomach,thesourothersimbalance.Mymoingtohaveababy.
"See,"saidmyfatheraswebothlookedatthecrib."inginstincts.Heresthe.Andhereswherethebabygoes."Heleasedwiththisimaginarybabyinthecrib.HedidIlatersaw.Mymantobumpintothings,intotableedgesasifshefotherstomatainedababy,asifshewereheadedfortroubleinstead.Shedidnotspeakofthejoysofhavinganewbaby;shetalkedaboutaheavinessaroundher,aboutthingsbeingoutofbalainharmonywithoher.SoIworriedaboutthatbaby,thatitwasstuewherebetweenmymothersstomadthiscribinmyroom.
Withmybedagainstthewall,thenighttimelifeofmyimaginationged.Insteadofstreetsounds,Ibegantohearvoiingfromthewall,fromtheapartmedoor.Thefront-doorbuzzersaidafamilycalledtheSorcislivedthere.
ThatfirstnightIheardthemuffledsoundofsomeoneshouting.Awoman?Agirl?Iflattenedmyearagainstthewallandheardawomansangryvoice,thenahehighervoiceofagirlshoutingbadnow,thevoicesturowardme,likefiresirensturningontoourstreet,andIcouldheartheaccusationsfadinginandout:WhoamItosay!…Whydoyoukeepbuggiheandstayout!…ratherdieratherbedead!…Whydonchathen!
ThenIheardscrapingsounds,slamming,pushingandshoutsandthenwhack!whack!whaeonewaskilling.Someonewasbeingkilled.Screamsandshouts,amotherhadaswhaboveagirlsheadandwasstartingtosliceherlifeaway,firstabraid,thenherscalp,aneyebrow,atoe,athumb,thepointofhercheek,theslantofheriltherewasnothi,nosounds.
Ilaybackagainstmypillow,myheartpoundingatwhatIhadjustwithmyearsandmyimagination.Agirlhadjustbeenkilled.Ihadntbeeopmyselffromlistening.Iwasntabletostoppehehorrorofitall.
Butthenight,thegirlcamebacktolifewithmorescreams,morebeating,herlifeoncemoreinperil.Andsoittinued,nightafternight,avoicepressingagainstmywalltellithiswastheworstpossiblethingthatcouldhappeerrorofnotknowiwouldeverstop.
SometimesIheardthisloudfamilyacrossthehallwaythatseparatedourtartmentdoors.Theirapartmentwasbythestairsgoinguptothethirdfloor.Ourswasbythestairsgoingdowntothelobby.
"Youbreakysslidingdownthatbanister,Imgonnabreakyourneck,"awomanshouted.Herwarningswerefollowedbythesoundsoffeetstompingoairs."AnddontfettopickupPopssuits!"
IkheirterriblelifesointimatelythatIwasstartledbytheimmediacyofseeingherinpersonforthefirsttime.Iullingthefrontdoorshutwhilebalanganarmloadofbooks.Aurnedaround,IsawheringtowardmejustafewfeetawayandIshriekedanddroppedeverything.ShesnickeredandIknewwhoshewas,thistallgirlwhomIguessedtobeabouttwelve,twoyearsolderthanIwas.TheeddowairsandIquicklygatheredupmybooksandfollowedher,carefultowalkohersideofthestreet.
Shedidntseemlikeagirlwhohadbeenkilledahuimes.Isawnotracesofblood-stainedclothes;sheworeacrispwhiteblouse,abluecardigaer,andablue-greeedskirt.Infact,asIwatchedher,sheseemedquitehappy,hertwobrownbraidsboungjauntilyinrhythmtoherwalk.Andthen,asifshekhatIwasthinkingabouther,sheturnedherhead.Shegavemeascowlandquicklyduckeddownasidestreetandwalkedoutofmysight.
EverytimeIsawherafterthat,Iwouldpretendtolookdown,busyrearrangingmybooksorthebuttonsonmysweater,guiltythatIkneweverythingabouther.
MyparentsfriendsAuntieSuandUncleingpickedmeupatschoolonedayandtookmetothehospitaltoseemymother.Ikhiswasseriousbecauseeverythingtheysaidwasunnecessarybutspokenwithsolemnimportance.
"Itisnowfouroclock,"saidUncleing,lookingathiswatch.
"Thebusisime,"saidAuntieSu.
WhenIvisitedmymotherinthehospital,sheseemedhalfasleep,tossingbadforth.Andthenhereyespoppedopen,staringattheceiling.
"Myfault,myfault.Ikhisbeforeithappened,"shebabbled."Ididnothingtopreventit."
"Bettydarliydarling,"saidmyfatherfrantically.Butmymotherkeptshoutingtheseaccusationstoherself.ShegrabbedmyhandandIrealizedherwholebodywasshaking.Andthenshelookedatme,inastrangeway,asifshewerebeggingmeforherlife,asifIcouldpardonher.Shewasmumblinginese.
"Lena,whatsshesaying?"criedmyfather.Foronce,hehadnowordstoputinmymothersmouth.
Andforonce,Ihadnoreadyastruckmethattheworstpossiblethinghadhappehatwhatshehadbeenfearinghadetrue.Theywerenolongerwarnings.AndsoIlistened.
"Whenthebabywasreadytobeborn,"shemurmured,"Icouldalreadyhearhimscreaminginsidemywomb.Hislittlefiheyweregingtostayithehedoctor,theysaidtopushhimout,makehime.Andwhenhisheadpoppedout,thenursescried,Hiseyesarewideopen!Heseeseverything!Thenhisbodyslippedoutandhelayoable,steamingwithlife.
"WhenIlookedathim,Isawrightaway.Histinylegs,hissmallarms,histhinnedthenalargeheadsoterribleIcouldnotstoplookingatit.Thisbabyseyeswereopenandhishead—itentoo!Icouldseeallthewayback,towherehisthoughtsweresupposedtobe,andtherewasnothingthere.Nobraiorshouted!Hisheadisjustayeggshell!
"Ahisbaby,maybeheheardus,hislargeheadseemedtofillwithhotairandriseupfromthetable.Theheadturooneside,thentotheother.Itlohtthroughme.Iknewhecouldseeeverythinginsideme.HowIhadgivennothoughttokillingmyotherson!HowIhadgivennothoughttohavingthisbaby!"
Icouldnottellmyfatherwhatshehadsaid.Hewassosadalreadywiththisemptycribinhismind.HowcouldItellhimshewascrazy?
SothisiswhatItranslatedforhim:"Shesayswemustallthinkveryhardabouthavinganotherbaby.Shesaysshehopesthisbabyisveryhappyoherside.Ahinksweshouldleavenowandgohavedinner."
Afterthebabydied,mymotherfellapart,notallatopiecebypiece,likeplatesfallingoffashelfonebyone.Ineverknewwhenitwouldhappen,soIbeervousallthetime,waiting.
Sometimesshewouldstarttomakedinner,butwouldstophalfway,thewaterrunningfullsteaminthesink,herknifepoisedintheairoverhalf-choppedvegetables,silent,tearsflowing.Andsometimeswedbeeatingandwewouldhavetostopandputourforksdownbecauseshehaddroppedherfatoherhandsandwassaying."Meigwansyi"—Itdoesntmatter.Myfatherwouldjustsitthere,tryingtofigureoutwhatitwasthatdidntmatterthismudIwouldleavethetable,knowingitwouldhappenagain,alwaysaime.
Myfatherseemedtofallapartinadifferentway.Hetriedtomakethier.Butitwasasifhewererunningtocatchthingsbeforetheyfell,onlyhewouldfallbeforehecouldcatything.
"Shesjusttired,"heexplaiomeereeatingdiheGoldSpike,justthetwoofus,becausemymotherwaslyinglikeastatueonherbed.Ikhinkingaboutherbecausehehadthisworriedface,staringathisdinnerplateasifitwerefilledwithwormsinsteadofspaghetti.
Athome,mymotherlookedateverythingarouhemptyeyes.Myfatherwouldehomefromwork,pattingmyhead,saying,"Howsmybiggirl,"butalwayslookingpastme,towardmymother.Ihadsuchfearsiinmyheadbutinmystomach.Icouldnolongerseewhatwassoscary,butIcouldfeelit.Icouldfeeleverylittlemovementinoursilenthouse.Andatnight,Icouldfeelthecrashingloudfightsohersideofmybedroomwall,thisgirlbeieh.Inbed,withtheblaedgelyingayneck,Iusedtowonderwhichwasworse,oursideortheirs?Andafterthinkingaboutthisforawhile,afterfeelingsorryformyself,itfortedmesomewhattothinkthatthisgirldoorhadamoreunhappylife.
Butonenightafterdinnerourdoorbellrang.Thiswascurious,becauseusuallypethebuzzerdownstairsfirst.
"Lena,couldyouseewhoitis?"calledmyfatherfromthekit.Hewasdoingthedishes.Mymotherwaslyinginbed.Mymotherwasnowalways"resting"anditwasasifshehaddiedandbeealivingghost.
Iopehedoorcautiously,thenswungitwideopenwithsurprise.Itwasthegirlfromdoor.Istaredatherwithundisguisedamazement.Shewassmilingbackatme,andshelookedruffled,asifshehadfallenoutofbedwithherclotheson.
"Whoisit?"calledmyfather.
"Itsdoor!"Ishoutedtomyfather."Its…"
"Teresa,"sheofferedquickly.
"ItsTeresa!"Iyelledbayfather.
"Inviteherin,"myfathersaidatalmostthesamemomentthatTeresasqueezedpastmeandintoourapartment.Withoutbeinginvited,shestartedwalkingtowardmybedroom.Iclosedthefrontdoorandfollowedhertwobrownbraidsthatwerebounglikewhipsbeatingthebackofahorse.
Shewalkedrightovertomywindowaoopenit."Whatareyoudoing?"Icried.Shesatonthewindowledge,lookedoutoreet.Andthenshelookedatmeandstartedtogiggle.Isatdownogher,waitingforhertostop,feelingthecoldairblowinfromthedarkopening.
"Whatssofunny?"Ifinallysaid.Itoccurredtomethatperhapsshewaslaughingatme,atmylife.Maybeshehadlistehroughthewallandheardnothing,thestagnantsilenceofourunhappyhouse.
"Whyareyoulaughing?"Idemanded.
"Mymotherkickedmeout,"shefinallysaid.Shetalkedwithaswagger,seemingtobeproudofthisfadthenshesnickeredalittleandsaid,"Wehadthisfightandshepushedmeoutthedoorandlockedit.SonowshethinksImgoingtowaitoutsidethedooruntilImsorryenoughtoapologize.ButImnotgoingto."
"Thenwhatareyougoingtodo?"Iaskedbreathlessly,certainthathermotherwouldkillherfoodthistime.
"Imgoingtouseyourfireescapetoclimbbatomybedroom,"shewhisperedback."Andshesgoingtowait.Andwhesworried,shellopenthefrontdoor.OnlyIwohere!Illbeinmybedroom,inbed."Shegiggledagain.
"Wontshebemadwhenshefindsyou?"
"Nah,shelljustbegladImnotdeadorsomething.Oh,shellpretendtobemad,sortof.Wedothiskindofstuffallthetime."Andthensheslippedthroughmywindowandsoundlesslymadeherwaybae.
Istaredattheopenwindowforalongtime,wabouther.Howcouldshegoback?Didntsheseehowterribleherlifewas?Didntshereizeitwouldop?
Ilaydownonmybedwaitingtohearthescreamsandshouts.AndlateatnightIwasstillawakewheheloudvoiextdoor.Mrs.Sorciwasshoutingandg,Youstupidagirl.YoualmostgavemeaheartattadTeresawasyellingback,Icouldabeenkilled.Ialmostfellandbrokemynedthehemlaughingandg,gandlaughing,shoutingwithlove.
Iwasstunned.Icouldalmostseethemhuggingandkissiher.Iwasgforjoywiththem,becauseIhadbeenwrong.
AndinmymemoryIstillfeelthehopethatbeatinight.Igtothishope,dayafterday,nightafternight,yearafteryear.Iwouldwatchmymotherlyinginherbed,babblingtoherselfasshesatonthesofa.AIkhatthis,theworstpossiblething,wouldonedaystop.Istillsawbadthingsinmymind,butnowIfoundwaystogethem.IstillheardMrs.SordTeresahavingterriblefights,butIsawsomethingelse.
Isawagirlplainingthatthepainofnotbeingseenwasunbearable.Isawthemotherlyinginbedinherlongflowingrobes.Thenthegirlpulledoutasharpswordandtoldhermother,"Thenyoumustdiethedeathofathousandcuts.Itistheonlywaytosaveyou."
Themotheracceptedthisandclosedhereyes.Theswordcamedownandslicedbadforth,upanddown,whish!whish!whish!Aherscreamedandshouted,criedoutinterrorandpain.Butwhensheopenedhereyes,shesawnob松语文学www.16sy.coM免费小说阅读
WhenIwaslittle,mymothertoldmemygreat-grandfatherhadsentencedabeggartodieintheworstpossibleway,andthatlaterthedeadmancamebadkilledmygreat-grandfather.Eitherthat,orhediedofinfluenzaoer.
Iusedtoplayoutthebeggarslastmomentsoverandaininmyhead.Inmymind,Isawtheexecutioripoffthemansshirtandleadhimintotheopenyard."Thistraitor,"readtheexecutioner,"issenteodiethedeathofathousandcuts."Butbeforehecouldevenraisethesharpswordtowhittlehislifeaway,theyfoundthebeggarsmindhadalreadybrokenintoathousandpieces.Afewdayslater,mygreat-grandfatherlookedupfromhisbooksandsawthissamemanlookinglikeasmashedvasehastilyputbacktogether."Astheswordwascuttingmedown,"saidtheghost,"IthoughtthiswastheworstIwouldeverhavetoeIwaswrong.Theworstisoherside."Andthedeadmanembracedmygreat-grandfatherwiththejaggedpiecesofhisarmandpulledhimthroughthewall,toshowhimwhathemeant.
Ionceaskedmymotherhowhereallydied.Shesaid,"Inbed,veryquickly,afterbeingsickforonlytwodays."
"No,no,Imeaherman.Howwashekilled?Didtheysliceoffhisskinfirst?Didtheyuseacleavertochopuphisbones?Didhescreamandfeelallohousandcuts?"
"Annh!WhydoyouAmerishaveonlythesemorbidthoughtsinyourmind?"criedmymotherinese."Thatmanhasbeendeadforalmostseventyyears.Whatdoesitmatterhowhedied?"
Ialwaysthoughtitmattered,toknowwhatistheworstpossiblethingthathappentoyou,toknowhowyouavoidit,tonotbedrawnbythemagicoftheunspeakable.Because,evenasayoungchild,Icouldseheunspokenterrorsthatsurroundedourhouse,theohatchasedmymotheruntilshehididarkerofhermind.Andstilltheyfoundher.Iwatched,overtheyears,astheydevouredher,piecebypietilshedisappearedandbecameaghost.
AsIrememberit,thedarksideofmymothersprangfromthebasementinouroldhouseinOakland.Iwasfiveandmymothertriedtohideitfromme.Shebarricadedthedoorwithawoodenchair,secureditwithaandtwotypesofkeylocks.AnditbecamesomysteriousthatIspentallmyenergiesunravelingthisdoor,untilthedayIwasfinallyabletopryitopenwithmysmallfingers,onlytoimmediatelyfallheadlongintothedarkchasm.AnditwasonlyafterIstoppedscreaming—Ihadseenthebloodofmynoseonmymothersshoulder—onlythendidmymothertellmeaboutthebadmanwholivedinthebasementandwhyIshouldneveropenthedain.Hehadlivedthereforthousandsofyears,shesaid,andwassoevilandhungrythathadmymothernotrescuedmesoquickly,thisbadmanwouldhaveplantedfivebabiesiheenusallinasix-coursemeal,tossingourbohedirtyfloor.
AndafterthatIbegaerriblethings.Isawthesethingswithmyeseeyes,thepartofmeIgotfrommymother.IsawdevilsdangfeverishlybehaholeIhadduginthesandbox.Isawthatlightninghadeyesandsearchedtostrikedownlittlechildren.Isawabeetlewearingthefaceofachild,whichIpromptlysquashedwiththewheelofmytricycle.AndwhenIbecameolder,IcouldseethingsthatCausasiangirlsatschooldidnot.Monkeyringsthatwouldsplitintwoandsendaswingingchildhurtlingthroughspace.Tetherballsthatcouldsplashagirlsheadallovertheplaygroundinfrontoflaughingfriends.
IdidnttellanyoneaboutthethingsIsaw,notevenmymother.MostpeopledidntknowIwashalfese,maybebecausemylast.Clair.Whenpeoplefirstsawme,theythoughtIlookedlikemyfather,English-Irish,big-bonedanddelicateatthesametime.Butiftheylookedreallyclose,iftheykhattheywerethere,theycouldseetheeseparts.Insteadofhavingcheekslikemyfatherssharp-edgedpoints,mineweresmoothasbeachpebbles.Ididnthavehisstraw-yellowhairorhiswhiteskimyclookedtoopale,likesomethingthatwasoncedarkerandhadfadedinthesun.
Andmyeyes,mymavememyeyes,noeyelids,asiftheywerecarvedonajack-o-lanternwithtwoswiftcutsofashortknife.Iusedtopushmyeyesinonthesidestomakethemrounder.OrIdopenthemverywideuntilIcouldseethewhiteparts.ButwhenIwalkedaroundthehouselikethat,myfatheraskedmewhyIlookedsoscared.
Ihaveaphotoofmymotherwiththissamescaredlook.MyfathersaidthepicturewastakenwhenMawasfirstreleasedfromAngelIslandImmigrationStatioayedthereforthreeweeks,untiltheycouldprocessherpapersaermihershewasaWarBride,aDisplacedPerson,aStudent,orthewifeofaese-Americitizen.MyfathersaidtheydidnthaverulesfordealingwiththeesewifeofaCaucasiancitizen.Somehow,iheydeclaredheraDisplacedPerson,lostinaseaofimmigrationcategories.
Mymotheralkedaboutherlifeina,butmyfathersaidhesavedherfromaterriblelifethere,sedyshecouldnotspeakabout.Myfatherproudlynamedherinherimmigrationpapers:BettySt.Clair,crossingouthergivennameofGuYing-ying.Andthedownthewrongbirthyear,1916insteadof1914.So,withthesweepofapen,mymotherlosthernameandbecameaDragoninsteadofaTiger.
Inthispictureyouseewhymymotherlooksdisplaced.Sheisclutgalargeclam-shapedbag,asthoughsomeonemightstealthisfromheraswellifsheislesswatchful.Shehasonanankle-lengthesedresswithmodestventsattheside.Andontopsheisweariernizedsuitjacket,awkwardlystylishonmymotherssmallbody,withitspaddedshoulders,widelapels,andoversizeclothbuttons.Thiswasmymothersweddingdress,agiftfrommyfather.Inthisoutfitshelooksasifshewereheringfroingtosomeplace.Herisbentdownandyouseetheprecisepartinherhair,awhitelinedrawnfromaboveherleftbrowtheheblackhorizonofherhead.
Ahoughherheadisbowed,humblei,hereyesarestaringuppastthecamera,wideopen.
"Whydoesshelookscared?"Iaskedmyfather.
Andmyfatherexplaiwasonlybecausehesaid"Cheese,"andmymotherwasstrugglingtokeephereyesopenuntiltheflashwentoff,tensedslater.
Mymotheroftenlookedthisway,waitingforsomethingtohappen,wearingthisscaredlook.Onlylatershelostthestruggletokeephereyesopen.
"Dontlookather,"saidmymotheraswewalkedthroughatowninOakland.Shehadgrabbedmyhandandpulledmeclosetoherbody.AndofcourseIlooked.Isawawomansittingonthesidewalk,leaningagainstabuilding.Shewasoldandyoungatthesametime,withdulleyesasthoughshehadnotsleptformanyyears.Andherfeetandherhands—thetipswereasblackasifshehaddippedtheminIndiaink.ButIkheywererotted.
"Whatdidshedotoherself?"Iwhisperedtomymother.
"Shemetabadman,"saidmymother."Shehadababyshedidntwant."
AndIkhatwasnottrue.Iknewmymothermadeupanythingtowarohelpmeavoidsomeunknowndanger.Mymothersawdangerihing,eveninotheresepeople.Wherewelivedandshopped,everyonespoketoneselish.MymotherwasfromWushi,nearShanghai.SoshespokeMandarinandalittlebitofEnglish.Myfather,whospokeonlyafewedeseexpressions,insistedmymotherlearnEnglish.Sowithhim,shespokeinmoodsaures,looksandsilences,andsometimesabinationofEnglishpunctuatedbyhesitationsandesefrustration:"Shwobuchulai"—Wordseout.Somyfatherwouldputwordsinhermouth.
"IthinkMomistryingtosayshestired,"hewouldwhisperwhenmymotherbecamemoody.
"Ithinkshessayihebestdarnfamilyinthetry!"hedexclaimwhenshehadcookedawonderfullyfragrantmeal.
Butwithme,erealone,mymotherwouldspeakinese,sayingthingsmyfathercouldnotpossiblyimagine.Icoulduandthewordsperfectly,butnotthemeanings.Ohoughtledtoahoute.
"Youmustnotwalkinanydirebuttoschoolandbae,"warnedmymotherwhenshedecidedIwasoldenoughtowalkbymyself.
"Why?"Iasked.
"Youtuahings,"shesaid.
"Whynot?"
"BecauseIhaventputitinyourmi."
"Whynot?"
"Aii-ya!Suchquestions!Becauseitistooterribletosider.Amangrabyouoffthestreets,sellyoutosomeoneelse,makeyouhaveababy.Thenyoullkillthebaby.Aheyfindthisbabyinagarbage,thenwhatbedone?Youllgotojail,diethere."
Ikhiswasnotatrueanswer.ButIalsomadeupliestopreventbadthingsfromhappeningiure.IoftenliedwhenIhadtotranslateforher,theendlessforms,instrus,noticesfromschool,telephonecalls."Shemmayisz?"—Whatmeaning?—sheaskedmewhenamanatagrocerystoreyelledatherforopeningupjarstosmelltheinsides.IwassoembarrassedItoldherthatesepeoplewerenotallowedtoshopthere.Whentheschoolsentanotieaboutapoliovaation,Itoldherthetimeandpladaddedthatallstudentswerenowrequiredtousemetallunchboxes,siheyhaddiscoveredoldpaperbagscarrypoliogerms.
"Weremovingupintheworld,"myfatherproudlyannouhisbeingtheoccasionofhispromotiontosalessupervisorofaclothingmanufacturer."Yourmotheristhrilled."
Andwedidmoveup,acrossthebaytoSanFrancisdupahillinNorthBeach,toanItalianneighborhood,wherethesidewalkwassosteepIhadtoleanintotheslanttogethomefromschooleachday.IwastenandIefulthatwemightbeabletoleavealltheoldfearsbehindinOakland.
Theapartmentbuildingwasthreestorieshigh,tartmentsperfloor.Ithadarenovatedfa鏰de,aretlayerofwhitestuccotoppedwithectedrowsofmetalfire-escapeladders.Butiwasold.Thefrontdoorwithitsnarroanesopeoamustylobbythatsmelledofeverybodyslifemixedtogether.Everybodymeantthehefrontdoorotheirlittlebuzzers:Anderson,Giordino,Hayman,Ricci,Sordour.Clair.Welivedonthemiddlefloor,stuckbetweencookihatfloatedupasoundsthatdrifteddown.Mybedroomfacedthestreet,andatnight,inthedark,Icouldseeinmymindanotherlife.Carsstrugglingtoclimbthesteep,fog-shroudedhill,gunningtheirdeepenginesandspinningtheirwheels.Loud,happypeople,laughing,puffing,gasping:"Arewealmostthere?"Abeaglescramblingtohisfeettostarthisyippingyowl,answeredafewsedslaterbyfiretrucksirensandanangrywomanhissing,"Sammy!Baddog!Hushnow!"Andwithallthissoothiability,Iwouldsoonfallasleep.
Mymotherwasnothappywiththeapartment,butIdidatfirst.Whenwemovedin,shebusiedherselfwithgettiled,arrangingthefurniture,unpagdishes,hangingpicturesonthewall.Ittookheraboutoneweek.Andsoohat,whensheandIwerewalkingtothebusstop,shemetamanwhothrewheroffbalance.
Hewasared-facedeseman,wobblingdownthesidewalkasifhewerelost.Hisrunnyeyessawusandhequicklystoodupstraightandthrewouthisarms,shouting,"Ifoundyou!SuzieWong,girlofmydreams!Hah!"Andwithhisarmsandmouthwideopeartedrushingtowardus.Mymotherdroppedmyhandandcoveredherbodywithherarmsasifshewerenaked,uodoanythingelse.Inthatmomentassheletgo,Istartedtoscream,seeingthisdangerousmanlungingcloser.Iwasstillscreamingaftertwolaughingmengrabbedthismanand,shakinghim,said,"Joe,stopit,forChrissake.Youresgthatpoorlittlegirlandhermaid."
Therestoftheday—whileridingonthebus,walkinginandoutofstores,shoppingforourdinner—mymothertrembled.Sheclutchedmyhandsotightlyithurt.Andoncewhegoofmyhandtotakeherwalletoutofherpurseatthecashregister,Istartedtoslipawaytolookatthedy.ShegrabbedmyhandbacksofastIkhatinstanthowsorryshewasthatshehadnotprotectedmebetter.
Assoohroceryshopping,shebegantoputthesaablesaway.Andthen,asifsomethingwerenotquiteright,sheremovedthesfromoneshelfandswitchedthemwiththesonanother.shewalkedbrisklyintothelivingroomandmovedalargeroundmirrorfromthewallfagthefrontdoortoawallbythesofa.
"Whatareyoudoing?"Iasked.
Shewhisperedsomethingineseabout"thingsnotbeingbalanced,"andIthoughtshemeanthowthingslooked,nothowthi.Andtheartedtomovethelargerpieces:thesofa,chairs,endtables,aesescrollofgoldfish.
"Whatsgoingonhere?"askedmyfatherwhenhecamehomefromwork.
"Shesmakingitlookbetter,"Isaid.
Aday,whenIcamehomefromschool,Isawshehadagainrearrangedeverything.Everythingwasinadifferentplace.Icouldseethatsometerribledangerlayahead.
"Whyareyoudoingthis?"Iaskedher,afraidshewouldgivemeatrueanswer.
Butshewhisperedsomeesenonseead:"Whehinggoesagainstyournature,youarenotinbalahishousewasbuilttoosteep,andabadwindfromthetopblowsallyourstrengthbackdownthehill.Soyouevergetahead.Youarealwaysrollingbackward."
Andtheartedpointingtothewallsanddoorsoftheapartment."Seehownarrowthisdoorwayis,likeahathasbeenstrangled.Afacesthistoiletroom,soallyourworthisflushedaway."
"Butwhatdoesitmean?Whatsgoingtohappenifitsnotbalanced?"Iaskedmymother.
Myfatherexplaiomelater."Yourmotherisjustpractigheringinstincts,"hesaid."Allmetit.Youllseewhenyoureolder."
Iwonderedwhymyfatherneverworried.Washeblind?WhydidmymotherandIseesomethingmore?
Andthenafewdayslater,Ifoundoutthatmyfatherhadbeenrightallalong.Icamehomefromschool,walkedintomybedroom,andsawit.Mymotherhadrearrangedmyroom.Mybedwasnolohewindowbutagainstawall.Andwheremybedoncewas—nowtherestoodausedcrib.Sothesecretdangerwasaballooningstomach,thesourothersimbalance.Mymoingtohaveababy.
"See,"saidmyfatheraswebothlookedatthecrib."inginstincts.Heresthe.Andhereswherethebabygoes."Heleasedwiththisimaginarybabyinthecrib.HedidIlatersaw.Mymantobumpintothings,intotableedgesasifshefotherstomatainedababy,asifshewereheadedfortroubleinstead.Shedidnotspeakofthejoysofhavinganewbaby;shetalkedaboutaheavinessaroundher,aboutthingsbeingoutofbalainharmonywithoher.SoIworriedaboutthatbaby,thatitwasstuewherebetweenmymothersstomadthiscribinmyroom.
Withmybedagainstthewall,thenighttimelifeofmyimaginationged.Insteadofstreetsounds,Ibegantohearvoiingfromthewall,fromtheapartmedoor.Thefront-doorbuzzersaidafamilycalledtheSorcislivedthere.
ThatfirstnightIheardthemuffledsoundofsomeoneshouting.Awoman?Agirl?Iflattenedmyearagainstthewallandheardawomansangryvoice,thenahehighervoiceofagirlshoutingbadnow,thevoicesturowardme,likefiresirensturningontoourstreet,andIcouldheartheaccusationsfadinginandout:WhoamItosay!…Whydoyoukeepbuggiheandstayout!…ratherdieratherbedead!…Whydonchathen!
ThenIheardscrapingsounds,slamming,pushingandshoutsandthenwhack!whack!whaeonewaskilling.Someonewasbeingkilled.Screamsandshouts,amotherhadaswhaboveagirlsheadandwasstartingtosliceherlifeaway,firstabraid,thenherscalp,aneyebrow,atoe,athumb,thepointofhercheek,theslantofheriltherewasnothi,nosounds.
Ilaybackagainstmypillow,myheartpoundingatwhatIhadjustwithmyearsandmyimagination.Agirlhadjustbeenkilled.Ihadntbeeopmyselffromlistening.Iwasntabletostoppehehorrorofitall.
Butthenight,thegirlcamebacktolifewithmorescreams,morebeating,herlifeoncemoreinperil.Andsoittinued,nightafternight,avoicepressingagainstmywalltellithiswastheworstpossiblethingthatcouldhappeerrorofnotknowiwouldeverstop.
SometimesIheardthisloudfamilyacrossthehallwaythatseparatedourtartmentdoors.Theirapartmentwasbythestairsgoinguptothethirdfloor.Ourswasbythestairsgoingdowntothelobby.
"Youbreakysslidingdownthatbanister,Imgonnabreakyourneck,"awomanshouted.Herwarningswerefollowedbythesoundsoffeetstompingoairs."AnddontfettopickupPopssuits!"
IkheirterriblelifesointimatelythatIwasstartledbytheimmediacyofseeingherinpersonforthefirsttime.Iullingthefrontdoorshutwhilebalanganarmloadofbooks.Aurnedaround,IsawheringtowardmejustafewfeetawayandIshriekedanddroppedeverything.ShesnickeredandIknewwhoshewas,thistallgirlwhomIguessedtobeabouttwelve,twoyearsolderthanIwas.TheeddowairsandIquicklygatheredupmybooksandfollowedher,carefultowalkohersideofthestreet.
Shedidntseemlikeagirlwhohadbeenkilledahuimes.Isawnotracesofblood-stainedclothes;sheworeacrispwhiteblouse,abluecardigaer,andablue-greeedskirt.Infact,asIwatchedher,sheseemedquitehappy,hertwobrownbraidsboungjauntilyinrhythmtoherwalk.Andthen,asifshekhatIwasthinkingabouther,sheturnedherhead.Shegavemeascowlandquicklyduckeddownasidestreetandwalkedoutofmysight.
EverytimeIsawherafterthat,Iwouldpretendtolookdown,busyrearrangingmybooksorthebuttonsonmysweater,guiltythatIkneweverythingabouther.
MyparentsfriendsAuntieSuandUncleingpickedmeupatschoolonedayandtookmetothehospitaltoseemymother.Ikhiswasseriousbecauseeverythingtheysaidwasunnecessarybutspokenwithsolemnimportance.
"Itisnowfouroclock,"saidUncleing,lookingathiswatch.
"Thebusisime,"saidAuntieSu.
WhenIvisitedmymotherinthehospital,sheseemedhalfasleep,tossingbadforth.Andthenhereyespoppedopen,staringattheceiling.
"Myfault,myfault.Ikhisbeforeithappened,"shebabbled."Ididnothingtopreventit."
"Bettydarliydarling,"saidmyfatherfrantically.Butmymotherkeptshoutingtheseaccusationstoherself.ShegrabbedmyhandandIrealizedherwholebodywasshaking.Andthenshelookedatme,inastrangeway,asifshewerebeggingmeforherlife,asifIcouldpardonher.Shewasmumblinginese.
"Lena,whatsshesaying?"criedmyfather.Foronce,hehadnowordstoputinmymothersmouth.
Andforonce,Ihadnoreadyastruckmethattheworstpossiblethinghadhappehatwhatshehadbeenfearinghadetrue.Theywerenolongerwarnings.AndsoIlistened.
"Whenthebabywasreadytobeborn,"shemurmured,"Icouldalreadyhearhimscreaminginsidemywomb.Hislittlefiheyweregingtostayithehedoctor,theysaidtopushhimout,makehime.Andwhenhisheadpoppedout,thenursescried,Hiseyesarewideopen!Heseeseverything!Thenhisbodyslippedoutandhelayoable,steamingwithlife.
"WhenIlookedathim,Isawrightaway.Histinylegs,hissmallarms,histhinnedthenalargeheadsoterribleIcouldnotstoplookingatit.Thisbabyseyeswereopenandhishead—itentoo!Icouldseeallthewayback,towherehisthoughtsweresupposedtobe,andtherewasnothingthere.Nobraiorshouted!Hisheadisjustayeggshell!
"Ahisbaby,maybeheheardus,hislargeheadseemedtofillwithhotairandriseupfromthetable.Theheadturooneside,thentotheother.Itlohtthroughme.Iknewhecouldseeeverythinginsideme.HowIhadgivennothoughttokillingmyotherson!HowIhadgivennothoughttohavingthisbaby!"
Icouldnottellmyfatherwhatshehadsaid.Hewassosadalreadywiththisemptycribinhismind.HowcouldItellhimshewascrazy?
SothisiswhatItranslatedforhim:"Shesayswemustallthinkveryhardabouthavinganotherbaby.Shesaysshehopesthisbabyisveryhappyoherside.Ahinksweshouldleavenowandgohavedinner."
Afterthebabydied,mymotherfellapart,notallatopiecebypiece,likeplatesfallingoffashelfonebyone.Ineverknewwhenitwouldhappen,soIbeervousallthetime,waiting.
Sometimesshewouldstarttomakedinner,butwouldstophalfway,thewaterrunningfullsteaminthesink,herknifepoisedintheairoverhalf-choppedvegetables,silent,tearsflowing.Andsometimeswedbeeatingandwewouldhavetostopandputourforksdownbecauseshehaddroppedherfatoherhandsandwassaying."Meigwansyi"—Itdoesntmatter.Myfatherwouldjustsitthere,tryingtofigureoutwhatitwasthatdidntmatterthismudIwouldleavethetable,knowingitwouldhappenagain,alwaysaime.
Myfatherseemedtofallapartinadifferentway.Hetriedtomakethier.Butitwasasifhewererunningtocatchthingsbeforetheyfell,onlyhewouldfallbeforehecouldcatything.
"Shesjusttired,"heexplaiomeereeatingdiheGoldSpike,justthetwoofus,becausemymotherwaslyinglikeastatueonherbed.Ikhinkingaboutherbecausehehadthisworriedface,staringathisdinnerplateasifitwerefilledwithwormsinsteadofspaghetti.
Athome,mymotherlookedateverythingarouhemptyeyes.Myfatherwouldehomefromwork,pattingmyhead,saying,"Howsmybiggirl,"butalwayslookingpastme,towardmymother.Ihadsuchfearsiinmyheadbutinmystomach.Icouldnolongerseewhatwassoscary,butIcouldfeelit.Icouldfeeleverylittlemovementinoursilenthouse.Andatnight,Icouldfeelthecrashingloudfightsohersideofmybedroomwall,thisgirlbeieh.Inbed,withtheblaedgelyingayneck,Iusedtowonderwhichwasworse,oursideortheirs?Andafterthinkingaboutthisforawhile,afterfeelingsorryformyself,itfortedmesomewhattothinkthatthisgirldoorhadamoreunhappylife.
Butonenightafterdinnerourdoorbellrang.Thiswascurious,becauseusuallypethebuzzerdownstairsfirst.
"Lena,couldyouseewhoitis?"calledmyfatherfromthekit.Hewasdoingthedishes.Mymotherwaslyinginbed.Mymotherwasnowalways"resting"anditwasasifshehaddiedandbeealivingghost.
Iopehedoorcautiously,thenswungitwideopenwithsurprise.Itwasthegirlfromdoor.Istaredatherwithundisguisedamazement.Shewassmilingbackatme,andshelookedruffled,asifshehadfallenoutofbedwithherclotheson.
"Whoisit?"calledmyfather.
"Itsdoor!"Ishoutedtomyfather."Its…"
"Teresa,"sheofferedquickly.
"ItsTeresa!"Iyelledbayfather.
"Inviteherin,"myfathersaidatalmostthesamemomentthatTeresasqueezedpastmeandintoourapartment.Withoutbeinginvited,shestartedwalkingtowardmybedroom.Iclosedthefrontdoorandfollowedhertwobrownbraidsthatwerebounglikewhipsbeatingthebackofahorse.
Shewalkedrightovertomywindowaoopenit."Whatareyoudoing?"Icried.Shesatonthewindowledge,lookedoutoreet.Andthenshelookedatmeandstartedtogiggle.Isatdownogher,waitingforhertostop,feelingthecoldairblowinfromthedarkopening.
"Whatssofunny?"Ifinallysaid.Itoccurredtomethatperhapsshewaslaughingatme,atmylife.Maybeshehadlistehroughthewallandheardnothing,thestagnantsilenceofourunhappyhouse.
"Whyareyoulaughing?"Idemanded.
"Mymotherkickedmeout,"shefinallysaid.Shetalkedwithaswagger,seemingtobeproudofthisfadthenshesnickeredalittleandsaid,"Wehadthisfightandshepushedmeoutthedoorandlockedit.SonowshethinksImgoingtowaitoutsidethedooruntilImsorryenoughtoapologize.ButImnotgoingto."
"Thenwhatareyougoingtodo?"Iaskedbreathlessly,certainthathermotherwouldkillherfoodthistime.
"Imgoingtouseyourfireescapetoclimbbatomybedroom,"shewhisperedback."Andshesgoingtowait.Andwhesworried,shellopenthefrontdoor.OnlyIwohere!Illbeinmybedroom,inbed."Shegiggledagain.
"Wontshebemadwhenshefindsyou?"
"Nah,shelljustbegladImnotdeadorsomething.Oh,shellpretendtobemad,sortof.Wedothiskindofstuffallthetime."Andthensheslippedthroughmywindowandsoundlesslymadeherwaybae.
Istaredattheopenwindowforalongtime,wabouther.Howcouldshegoback?Didntsheseehowterribleherlifewas?Didntshereizeitwouldop?
Ilaydownonmybedwaitingtohearthescreamsandshouts.AndlateatnightIwasstillawakewheheloudvoiextdoor.Mrs.Sorciwasshoutingandg,Youstupidagirl.YoualmostgavemeaheartattadTeresawasyellingback,Icouldabeenkilled.Ialmostfellandbrokemynedthehemlaughingandg,gandlaughing,shoutingwithlove.
Iwasstunned.Icouldalmostseethemhuggingandkissiher.Iwasgforjoywiththem,becauseIhadbeenwrong.
AndinmymemoryIstillfeelthehopethatbeatinight.Igtothishope,dayafterday,nightafternight,yearafteryear.Iwouldwatchmymotherlyinginherbed,babblingtoherselfasshesatonthesofa.AIkhatthis,theworstpossiblething,wouldonedaystop.Istillsawbadthingsinmymind,butnowIfoundwaystogethem.IstillheardMrs.SordTeresahavingterriblefights,butIsawsomethingelse.
Isawagirlplainingthatthepainofnotbeingseenwasunbearable.Isawthemotherlyinginbedinherlongflowingrobes.Thenthegirlpulledoutasharpswordandtoldhermother,"Thenyoumustdiethedeathofathousandcuts.Itistheonlywaytosaveyou."
Themotheracceptedthisandclosedhereyes.Theswordcamedownandslicedbadforth,upanddown,whish!whish!whish!Aherscreamedandshouted,criedoutinterrorandpain.Butwhensheopenedhereyes,shesawnob松语文学www.16sy.coM免费小说阅读
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