He never made it to New York. Traveling north on the Jersey1 Turnpike, he remembered that just south of Newark Airport was the exit to the cemetery2 where his parents were buried, and when he reached there, he pulled off the turnpike and followed the road that twisted through a decrepit3 residential4 neighborhood and then past a grim old elementary school until it ended at a beat-up truck thoroughfare that bordered the five or so acres of Jewish cemetery. At the far end of the cemetery was a vacant street where driving instructors5 took their students to learn to make a U-turn. He edged the car slowly through the open, spiked6 gate and parked opposite a small building that must once have been a prayer house and was now a dilapidated, hollowed-out ruin. The synagogue that had administered the cemetery's affairs had been disbanded years ago when its congregants had moved to the Union, Essex, and Morris County suburbs, and it didn't look as if anyone was taking care of anything anymore. The earth was giving way and sinking around many of the graves, and footstones everywhere had tumbled onto their sides, and all this was not even in the original graveyard7 where his grandparents were buried, amid hundreds of darkened tombstones packed tightly together, but in the newer sections where the granite8 markers dated from the second half of the twentieth century. He had noticed none of this when they had assembled to bury his father. All he'd seen then was the casket resting on the belts that spanned the open grave. Plain and modest though it was, it took up the world. Then followed the brutality9 of the burial and the mouth full of dust.
In just the past month he had been among the mourners at two funerals in two different cemeteries10 in Monmouth County, both rather less dreary11 than this one, and less dangerous, too. During recent decades, aside from vandals who damaged and destroyed the stones and the outbuildings where his parents were buried, there were muggers who worked the cemetery as well. In broad daylight they preyed12 upon the elderly who would occasionally show up alone or in pairs to spend time visiting a family gravesite. At his father's burial he had been informed by the rabbi that, if he was on his own, it would be wisest to visit his mother and father during the High Holy Day period, when the local police department, at the request of a committee of cemetery chairmen, had agreed to provide protection for the observant who turned out to recite the appropriate psalms13 and remember their dead. He had listened to the rabbi and nodded his head, but as he did not number himself among the believers, let alone the observant, and had a decided14 aversion to the High Holy Days, he would never choose to come to the cemetery then.
The dead were the two women in his class who'd had cancer and who'd died within a week of each other. There were many people from Starfish Beach at these funerals. As he looked around he could not help speculating about who among them would be killed off next. Everyone thinks at some time or other that in a hundred years no one now alive will be on earth — the overwhelming force will sweep the place clean. But he was thinking in terms of days. He was musing15 like a marked man.
There was a short, plump elderly woman at both the funerals who wept so uncontrollably that she seemed more than a mere16 friend of the dead and instead, impossibly, the mother of both. At the second funeral, she stood and sobbed17 only a few feet from him and the overweight stranger next to him, who he assumed was her husband, even though (or perhaps because), with his arms crossed and his teeth clenched18 and his chin in the air, he remained strikingly aloof19 and apart from her, an indifferent spectator who refused any longer to put up with this person. If anything, her tears would seem to have aroused bitter contempt rather than sympathetic concern, because in the midst of the funeral, as the rabbi was intoning in English the words of the prayer book, the husband turned unbidden and impatiently asked, "You know why she's carrying on like that?" "I believe I do," he whispered back, meaning by this, It's because it is for her as it's been for me ever since I was a boy. It's because it is for her as it is for everyone. It's because life's most disturbing intensity20 is death. It's because death is so unjust. It's because once one has tasted life, death does not even seem natural. I had thought — secretly I was certain — that life goes on and on. "Well, you're wrong," the man said flatly, as though having read his mind. "She's like that all the time. That has been the story for fifty years," he added with an unforgiving scowl21. "She's like that because she isn't eighteen anymore."
1 jersey | |
n.运动衫 | |
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2 cemetery | |
n.坟墓,墓地,坟场 | |
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3 decrepit | |
adj.衰老的,破旧的 | |
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4 residential | |
adj.提供住宿的;居住的;住宅的 | |
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5 instructors | |
指导者,教师( instructor的名词复数 ) | |
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6 spiked | |
adj.有穗的;成锥形的;有尖顶的 | |
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7 graveyard | |
n.坟场 | |
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8 granite | |
adj.花岗岩,花岗石 | |
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9 brutality | |
n.野蛮的行为,残忍,野蛮 | |
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10 cemeteries | |
n.(非教堂的)墓地,公墓( cemetery的名词复数 ) | |
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11 dreary | |
adj.令人沮丧的,沉闷的,单调乏味的 | |
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12 preyed | |
v.掠食( prey的过去式和过去分词 );掠食;折磨;(人)靠欺诈为生 | |
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13 psalms | |
n.赞美诗( psalm的名词复数 );圣诗;圣歌;(中的) | |
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14 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
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15 musing | |
n. 沉思,冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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16 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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17 sobbed | |
哭泣,啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 ); 哭诉,呜咽地说 | |
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18 clenched | |
v.紧握,抓紧,咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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19 aloof | |
adj.远离的;冷淡的,漠不关心的 | |
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20 intensity | |
n.强烈,剧烈;强度;烈度 | |
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21 scowl | |
vi.(at)生气地皱眉,沉下脸,怒视;n.怒容 | |
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