The rest of the day passed as if he were watching it through someone else’s eyes. Hurt and angry, he barely remembered following Alvin along the highway back toward Raleigh. More than once, he glanced in his rearview mirror, staring back over the black asphalt, watching the cars that followed in the distance, hoping that one of them was Lexie. She’d been perfectly1 clear in her desire to end the relationship, but even so, he felt a surge of adrenaline whenever he saw a car that resembled hers, and he would slow down to get a better look. Alvin, meanwhile, would move farther into the distance. Jeremy knew he should be paying attention to the road beyond the windshield; instead, he spent most of his time looking back.
After dropping off his rental2 car, he paced the terminal and made his way to the gate. Walking past crowded shops, veering3 around people who were scurrying4 his way, he wondered again why Lexie seemed so willing to give up everything they’d shared.
On the plane, his thoughts were interrupted when Alvin took a seat next to him.
“Thanks for making it so we could sit together,” Alvin said, his voice dripping with sarcasm6. He stored his bag in the overhead bin7.
“Huh?” Jeremy said.
“The seats. I thought you were going to take care of them when you checked in. It’s a good thing I asked when I got my boarding pass. I was supposed to sit in the last row.”
“Sorry,” Jeremy said. “I guess I forgot.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Alvin said, dropping into the seat next to him. He glanced at Jeremy. “You want to talk about it yet?”
Jeremy hesitated. “I’m not sure there’s anything to talk about.”
“That’s what you said earlier. But I’ve heard it’s supposed to be good for you. Haven’t you been keeping up with the talk shows lately? Express your feelings, purge8 your guilt9, seek and ye shall find?”
“Suit yourself,” Alvin said. “If you don’t want to talk, fine. I’ll just take a nap.” He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.
Jeremy stared out the window as Alvin slept for most of the flight.
In the cab he took from La Guardia, Jeremy was bombarded with noise and the hectic11 pace of the city: businessmen rushing past carrying briefcases12, mothers towing small children while attempting to manage shopping bags, the smell of car exhaust, horns honking13, and police sirens blaring. It was perfectly normal, a world he’d grown up in and had taken for granted; what surprised him was that as he looked out the car window, trying to orient himself to the reality of his life, he thought of Greenleaf and the utter silence he’d experienced there.
Back at his apartment building, his mailbox was stuffed with advertisements and bills; he grabbed it all and trudged14 up the stairs. Inside the apartment, everything was the same as he’d left it. Magazines lay strewn around the living room, his office was as cluttered15 as always, and there were still three bottles of Heineken in the refrigerator. After stowing his suitcase in his room, he opened a bottle of beer and carried his computer and satchel16 to his desk.
He had all the information he’d accumulated in the past few days: his notes and copies of the articles, the digital camera containing the photographs he’d shot of the cemetery17, the map, and the diary. As he began unpacking18, a packet of postcards fell onto the desk, and it took him a moment to remember that he’d picked them up on his first day in town. The top postcard was a view of the town from the river. Removing the wrapper, he began to thumb through the rest of them. He found postcards depicting19 the town hall, a misty20 view of a blue heron standing21 in the shallows of Boone Creek22, and sailboats congregating23 on a blustery afternoon. Halfway24 through the packet, he found himself pausing at a picture of the library.
He sat motionless, thinking of Lexie and realizing again that he loved her.
But that was over now, he reminded himself, and he continued shuffling through the postcards. He saw a strangely grainy photograph of Herbs and another of the town as viewed from Riker’s Hill. The final postcard was a picture of the downtown area of Boone Creek, and here he found himself pausing once more.
The postcard, a reproduction of an old black-and-white photo, captured the town circa 1950. In the foreground was the theater with well-dressed patrons waiting near the ticket window; in the background stood a decorated Christmas tree in the small green area just off the main street. On the sidewalks, couples could be seen peeking25 in windows decorated with garlands and lights, or strolling hand in hand. As Jeremy studied the picture, he found himself imagining how the holidays were celebrated26 in Boone Creek fifty years earlier. In place of boarded storefronts, he saw sidewalks crowded with women wearing scarves and men wearing hats and children pointing upward at an icicle hanging from a signpost.
As he looked, Jeremy found himself thinking about Mayor Gherkin. The postcard depicted27 not only Boone Creek’s way of life half a century before but also the way that Gherkin hoped the town could be again. It was a Norman Rockwell existence, albeit28 with a southern flair. He held the postcard for a long time, thinking about Lexie and wondering again what he was going to do about the story.
The meeting with the television producers was scheduled for Tuesday afternoon. Nate met Jeremy at his favorite steak house, Smith and Wollensky’s, beforehand. Nate was his buoyant self, excited to see Jeremy and relieved to have him back in town under his watchful29 eye. As soon as he sat down, he began talking about the footage that Alvin had shot, describing the images as fantastic, like “that haunted house in Amityville, but real,” and assuring him that the television executives would love them. For the most part, Jeremy sat in silence listening to Nate jabber30 on, but when he saw a dark-haired woman leaving the restaurant, her hair exactly the same length as Lexie’s, he felt a lump in his throat and suddenly excused himself to go to the restroom.
When he got back, Nate was perusing31 the menu. Jeremy added sweetener to the iced tea he’d ordered. He, too, scanned the menu and mentioned that he was thinking of having the swordfish. Nate looked up.
“But this is a steak house,” he protested.
Nate’s hand absently traveled to his midsection, as if wondering whether to do the same thing. In the end, he frowned as he set the menu aside. “I gotta go with the strip steak,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about it all morning. But where were we?”
“The meeting,” Jeremy reminded him, and Nate leaned forward.
“So it’s not ghosts, right?” Nate said. “You mentioned on the phone that you saw the lights but had a pretty good idea of what they were.”
“No,” Jeremy said. “It’s not ghosts.”
“What are they, then?”
Jeremy pulled out his notes and spent the next few minutes telling Nate what he’d learned, beginning with the legend and describing in detail his process of discovery. Even he could hear the monotone in his voice. As Nate listened, he nodded continually, but when he finished, Jeremy could see wrinkles of concern forming on Nate’s forehead.
“The paper mill?” he said. “I was hoping it was some sort of government tests or something like that. Like the military testing a new plane or something.” He paused. “And you’re sure it’s not a military train? News folks love to expose anything about the military. Secret weapons programs, things like that. Or maybe you heard something out there that you couldn’t explain.”
“Sorry,” Jeremy said, his voice flat, “it’s just light that ricochets off the train. There weren’t any noises.”
Watching Nate, Jeremy could see the wheels turning. Nate, Jeremy had come to realize, had better instincts than his editors when it came to stories.
“It’s not much,” he said. “Did you find out which version of the legend was true? Maybe there’s something you could do with the race angle.”
Jeremy shook his head. “I haven’t been able to confirm that Hettie Doubilet even existed. Aside from the legends, I couldn’t find any record of her in any official documents. And Watts33 Landing is long gone.”
“Look, I don’t mean to be picky here, but you’ve got to pump up your delivery if you want this to work. If you’re not enthusiastic, they’re not going to be excited, either. Am I right or am I right? Of course, I’m right. But come on, be honest with me. You found something else, didn’t you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Alvin,” Nate said. “When he dropped off the videos, I asked him about the story just to get his impression, and he mentioned that you found something else that was interesting.”
“His words, not mine,” Nate said, looking pleased with himself.
“He didn’t tell me what it was, though. He said that was up to you. Which must mean that it’s big.”
Staring at Nate, he could practically feel the diary burning a hole through the fabric35 of his satchel. On the table, Nate fiddled with his fork, turning it over and back again, waiting.
“Well,” Jeremy began, knowing his time to make his decision had finally run out.
When he didn’t continue, Nate leaned forward. “Yes?”
That evening, after the meeting was concluded, Jeremy sat alone in his apartment, absently watching the world outside. It had begun to snow, and the flakes were a swirling36, hypnotic mass under the glow of the streetlamp.
The meeting had started out well; Nate had revved37 the producers up to such an extent that they were transfixed by the images they saw. Nate had done the best he could. Afterward38, Jeremy told them about the legend, noting their growing interest as he spoke39 of Hettie Doubilet, and the painstaking40 way he’d approached the investigation41. He interspersed42 the story of Boone Creek with other investigations43 into the mysterious, and more than once, he saw the executives glance at each other, clearly trying to figure out how to work him into the show.
But as he sat alone later that night, the diary in his lap, he knew he wouldn’t be working with them. His story—the mystery of Boone Creek’s cemetery—was akin5 to an exciting novel that petered out at the end. The solution was too simple, too pat, and he’d sensed their disappointment by the time he said good-bye. Nate had promised to keep in touch, as they did, but Jeremy knew there would be no further calls.
As for the diary, he’d kept that to himself, as he had with Nate earlier.
Later, he made a phone call to Mayor Gherkin. Jeremy’s proposal was simple: Boone Creek would no longer promise visitors on the Historic Homes Tour a chance to see ghosts in the cemetery.
The word “haunted” would be removed from the brochure, as would any claims that the lights had anything to do with the supernatural. Instead, the legend’s history would be given full play, and visitors could be informed that they just might witness something spectacular. While some tourists might see the lights and wonder aloud if they were the ghosts from the legend, the volunteers who conducted the tours were told never to suggest as much. Finally, Jeremy asked the mayor to remove the T-shirts and cups from his department store downtown.
In exchange, Jeremy pomised he would never mention anything about Cedar44 Creek Cemetery on television, in his column, or in an independent article. He wouldn’t expose the mayor’s plan to turn the town into a ghostly version of Roswell, New Mexico, nor would he tell anyone in the town that the mayor had known the truth all along.
Mayor Gherkin accepted the offer. After hanging up, Jeremy called Alvin, whom he swore to secrecy45.
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收听单词发音
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1
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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rental
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| n.租赁，出租，出租业 | |
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veering
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| n.改变的；犹豫的；顺时针方向转向；特指使船尾转向上风来改变航向v.（尤指交通工具）改变方向或路线( veer的现在分词 )；（指谈话内容、人的行为或观点）突然改变；（指风） （在北半球按顺时针方向、在南半球按逆时针方向）逐渐转向；风向顺时针转 | |
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scurrying
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| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的现在分词 ) | |
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akin
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| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
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sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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7
bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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8
purge
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| n.整肃，清除，泻药，净化；vt.净化，清除，摆脱；vi.清除，通便，腹泻，变得清洁 | |
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9
guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hectic
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| adj.肺病的；消耗热的；发热的；闹哄哄的 | |
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12
briefcases
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| n.公文[事]包( briefcase的名词复数 ) | |
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13
honking
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| v.（使）发出雁叫似的声音，鸣（喇叭），按（喇叭）( honk的现在分词 ) | |
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trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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cluttered
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| v.杂物，零乱的东西零乱vt.( clutter的过去式和过去分词 )；乱糟糟地堆满，把…弄得很乱；（以…） 塞满… | |
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satchel
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| n.(皮或帆布的)书包 | |
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cemetery
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| n.坟墓，墓地，坟场 | |
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unpacking
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| n.取出货物，拆包[箱]v.从（包裹等）中取出（所装的东西），打开行李取出( unpack的现在分词 )；拆包；解除…的负担；吐露（心事等） | |
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depicting
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| 描绘，描画( depict的现在分词 )； 描述 | |
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misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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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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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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congregating
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| （使）集合，聚集( congregate的现在分词 ) | |
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halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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peeking
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| v.很快地看( peek的现在分词 )；偷看；窥视；微露出 | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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depicted
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| 描绘，描画( depict的过去式和过去分词 )； 描述 | |
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albeit
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| conj.即使；纵使；虽然 | |
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watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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jabber
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| v.快而不清楚地说；n.吱吱喳喳 | |
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perusing
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| v.读（某篇文字）( peruse的现在分词 )；（尤指）细阅；审阅；匆匆读或心不在焉地浏览（某篇文字） | |
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32
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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33
watts
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| （电力计量单位）瓦，瓦特( watt的名词复数 ) | |
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34
falter
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| vi.(嗓音)颤抖，结巴地说；犹豫；蹒跚 | |
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fabric
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| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
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36
swirling
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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37
revved
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| v.（使）加速( rev的过去式和过去分词 )；（数量、活动等）激增；（使发动机）快速旋转；（使）活跃起来 | |
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38
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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39
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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40
painstaking
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| adj.苦干的；艰苦的，费力的，刻苦的 | |
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41
investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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42
interspersed
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| adj.[医]散开的；点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
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43
investigations
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| （正式的）调查( investigation的名词复数 )； 侦查； 科学研究； 学术研究 | |
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44
cedar
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| n.雪松，香柏(木) | |
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45
secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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