CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Some weeks later, on the first day of summer, the old typewriter lost its 't' as well. Paul thought: I am going to complain. I am not just going to ask for a new typewriter, I am going to demand one. I know she can afford it. Of course he would ask Annie for nothing and certainly would not demand. Once there had been a man who would at least have asked. That man had been in much more pain, but he still would have asked. He had been that man and he supposed he ought to be ashamed, but that man had two big advantages over this one: that man had two feet . . . and two thumbs. Paul sat quietly for a moment, staring at the typewriter, and 56 then simply continued to type. It was better that way — better not to ask, better not to protest¹. Annie had become too strange. He had known for a long time what she was capable² of doing; but these days he couldn't guess what would make her do it. So he continued to work, but after five or six pages the typewriter lost the letter 'e', the most common letter in the English language. Paul could hardly believe it. What shall I do now? he thought, but of course the answer was obvious. He would write by hand. But not now. The hole in the paper - the hole through which Misery³ and Ian and Geoffrey lived - had closed with a crash. He listened to the sound of the lawnmower outside. Annie had a lawnmower which was like a small tractor⁴. As soon as he thought of Annie he remembered the axe⁵ rising and falling, her calm face splashed⁶ with his blood. He remembered every word she had spoken, every word he had screamed, every sound and movement. Why couldn't he forget? You're supposed to forget, aren't you? People who have car crashes forget what happened and arc⁷ surprised when they wake up in hospital. So why couldn't he forget? Because writers remember everything, Paul, especially the things that hurt. If you point to a writer's scars⁸, he will tell you the story of every small one. From the big ones you get novels. Perhaps memory would heal⁹ him. But why should he bother to remember? She had done it, and all the time between then and now had been painful and boring, except when he had worked on his silly book in order to escape feeling pain and being bored. There was no point in remembering, no point in anything. Hut there was. The point was Misery, because Misery kept him alive. As long as he was writing the book Annie let him live. But he wasn't writing the book for Annie; he wasn't writing the hook¹⁰ to please Annie, but to escape from her. And then he realized that as long as he was writing the book he let 57 himself live too. He could have died that day, the day of the axe, but he didn't - and he didn't because he wanted to finish the book! It wasn't just Annie: he wanted to know what happened too. He was a writer, and writers remember everything, so he let himself remember. This time the cloud had been darker, thicker, smoother. There was a feeling not of floating but of sinking. Sometimes thoughts came and sometimes, dimly¹¹, he heard Annie's voice. She sounded afraid: 'Drink this, Paul . . . you've got to!' How close had he come to sinking on the day of the axe? He didn't know, but he felt almost no pain during the week after the 'operation', which seemed to show that he was close to death. So did the fear in Annie's voice. He had lain there, hardly breathing. And what brought him out of it, out of the cloud, was Misery. The book was unfinished. Paul didn't know what the ending was going to be and he didn't know how some of the details fitted together. He never knew everything about the novels he wrote; he always waited to find out as eagerly as any reader- And this meant that there were unfinished questions in his mind. Those questions worried him - and so he came out of the cloud to find out what would happen to Misery. He chose to live. She didn't want to let him return to work - not at first. He could see in her eyes that she had been frightened and was still uncertain. She had come closer to killing¹³ him than she had intended. She was taking extraordinary care of him - changing the bandages on his stump¹⁴ every eight hours, washing him down. While he was unconscious she also filled in all the 'n's in the typescript. It was as if she was saying to him: You can't think that I'm cruel to you, Paul, when I look after you so well and even write all those 'n's. He was finally able to persuade her that returning to work would help him, not harm him. And she too wanted urgently¹⁵ to 58 know what was going to happen in the book. This was the one thing the two of them in that house shared this crazy interest in Misery's adventures. He had always known he could write good books - books like Fast Cars - and that the Misery books were just a way of making money. But why had he written so many Misery books? Ho had plenty of money. It was - and he almost hated to admit it to himself - because they gave him something his other books did not: the Misery books gave him the excitement of needing to know what would happen in the adventure. He shared this with his millions of readers, who eagerly turned the pages; he shared this with Annie. It was crazy. He was going to die anyway; she was going to kill him. But he still had to write. It was more than just a way of escaping the cruel reality of his situation: he had to find out how the story would end. And it was the best Misery novel he had ever written, just as Annie had said it would be. At first, sitting and typing were extremely painful and he could work only for short periods of time. The pain in his stump would burst into flame and it would flash through his body. But gradually he was able to work more, and he was right: he did regain¹⁶ some strength. He would never be the man he had been in the past, but he did recover some health. One day Annie had come in with some ice-cream. Although he didn't like it, he forced himself to eat it for fear of angering her. There was something about her that day which worried him. It was as if she was pretending to be cheerful. And then she came out with it - the reason for the gift of the ice-cream. She put her spoon down, wiped her chin with the back of her hand and said pleasantly: 'Tell me the rest.' Paul put his own spoon down. 'I beg your pardon?' 'Tell me the rest of the story. I can't wait.' He ought to have guessed that this would happen, 'I can't do that,' he said. Her face had darkened immediately. 'Why not?' 59 'Because I'm a bad storyteller.' She ate the rest of her ice-cream in five huge mouthfuls. Paul's teeth ached just from watching her. Then she put her dish down and looked at him angrily, not as if he was the great Paul Sheldon, her hero, but as if he was someone who had dared to criticize¹⁷ the great Paul Sheldon. 'If you're a bad storyteller, how have you written so many books - books which have sold millions and millions of copies?' 'I didn't say I was a bad story-writer. I think I'm good at that, in fact. But I'm a useless story-teller.' 'You're just making up a stupid excuse.' Now her hands were closed into fists, tight against the sides of her skirt. He found that he didn't really care that she was angry. He was frightened of being hurt again, but part of him didn't care what happened. 'It's not an excuse,' he said. 'The two things are quite different. People who tell stories usually can't write stories. If you think writers are any good at talking you ought to watch some poor fool of a novelist being interviewed on TV. Apart from that, I never quite know what the ending of one of my stories is going to be. I only really know when I've written it.' 'Well, I don't want to wait,' she said like a spoiled child. 'I brought you some nice ice-cream, and at least you could tell me a few things. All right, you needn't tell me the whole story, but Annie fired some questions at Paul about the book, but Paul shook his head to show that he wouldn't tell, She became even blacker, but her voice was soft. 'You're making me very angry. You know that, don't you, Paul?' 'Of course I know it, but I can't help it.' 'I could make you tell,' she said, but she knew she couldn't. She could hurt him so that he said a lot of things, but she couldn't make him tell a story whose ending he didn't know. The blackness was beginning to disappear from her face. She was fighting an impossible fight. 'Annie, I'm not being selfish. I'm not telling you because I 60 really want you to like the story. If I try to tell you it'll come out wrong, and then you won't like it and you won't want the book any more.' And then what will happen to me? 'But does Hezekiah really know about Misery's father? You could at least tell me that.' 'Do you want the novel or do you want a bedtime story?' he asked. 'Don't you dare be so sarcastic¹⁸ with me!' she shouted. 'Then don't pretend that you don't understand what I'm saying,' he shouted back. She pulled back from him in surprise and the last of the blackness disappeared from her face. He had skated on thin ice that time. He had expected her to get angry or depressed¹⁹, but instead they had returned to the old routine²⁰: Paul wrote and Annie read what he wrote each day and filled in the missing²¹ letters. But in fact he had made her angry. Her anger stayed just below the surface, however, so he was never aware of it - at least not until a week later, when he had complained about the typewriter, about the missing 'n'. 'Well, if it bothers you so much I'll have to give you something to stop you thinking about that stupid "n",' Annie said. She left the room and he heard her in the kitchen, looking for something in the drawers. She was cursing²² in her peculiar²³ way about 'stupid' this and 'dirty' that. Ten minutes later she came in with the syringe, the bottle of dark liquid and an electric knife. Paul immediately began to scream. Anne tested the knife and Paul again begged and promised to be good. He twisted and turned in his wheelchair. 'Stay still,' she ordered, 'or I'll use this knife on your throat.' He stayed still while she poured the liquid on his thumb and on the blade²⁴ of the knife. She switched the knife on and bent²⁵ over him, concentrating on her work. As the blade hit into the flesh between his thumb and finger she told him - in a voice which suggested that this was going to hurt her more than it was going to hurt him - that she loved him. 61 She had cut his thumb off in the morning, and then that night she had hurried into his room, carrying a cake and singing 'Happy Birthday to You'. It wasn't his birthday. There were candles ail¹² over the cake, in no order. There, in the exact centre of the cake, like an extra big candle, had been his thumb - his now-grey thumb - with the nail a little rough because he sometimes chewed it when he was thinking, if you promise to be good, she had told him, you can have a piece of cake, but you won't have to eat any of the special candle. So he had promised to be good - and so he wasn't going to complain that the typewriter had now lost its 't' and its 'e' as well. Paul was nearly asleep, sitting in his wheelchair by the window, listening to the steady sound of the lawnmower's engine and remembering. He jumped and wondered what had woken him up. At first he didn't believe what he saw out of the window coming into Annie's farm; he thought he must really be asleep. It was a police car.

1 protest   

v.反对，抗议；宣称；n.抗议；宣称

参考例句：

• I can't pass the matter by without a protest.我不能对此事视而不见，我要提出抗议。
• We translated his silence as a protest.我们把他的沉默解释为抗议。

2 capable   

adj.有能力的，有才能的

参考例句：

• The new woman secretary was extremely clever and capable.这位新来的女秘书很是精明强干。
• Jim is capable at sports.吉姆擅长运动。

3 misery   

n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦

参考例句：

• Business depression usually causes misery among the working class.商业不景气常使工薪阶层受苦。
• He has rescued me from the mire of misery.他把我从苦海里救了出来。

4 tractor   

n.拖拉机，牵引车

参考例句：

• You must oil the tractor every day.你必须每天给拖拉机加油。
• He has a tractor.他有一台拖拉机。

5 axe   

n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减

参考例句：

• Be careful with that sharp axe.那把斧子很锋利，你要当心。
• The edge of this axe has turned.这把斧子卷了刃了。

6 splashed   

v.使（液体）溅起( splash的过去式和过去分词 )；（指液体）溅落

参考例句：

• Water splashed onto the floor. 水哗的一声泼洒在地板上。
• The cowboy splashed his way across the shallow stream with his cow. 牧童牵着牛淌过浅溪。 来自《简明英汉词典》

7 arc   

n.弧形（物），弧，电弧，弧光

参考例句：

• The sun appears to move in an arc across the sky.太阳看起来在天空中以弧形运行。
• The rainbow described an arc in the dark sky.彩虹在昏暗的天空划出了一道圆弧。

8 scars   

n.伤痕( scar的名词复数 )；精神上的创伤；有损外观的地方；裸岩

参考例句：

• Slowly the war scars faded. 战争的创伤慢慢地消失了。 来自《现代汉英综合大词典》
• I've got scars from head to toe in tribute to my courage. 为了嘉奖我的胆量，我得到浑身的伤疤。 来自辞典例句

9 heal   

v.使愈合，治愈，使康复；平息(争吵等)；消除，解决(分支等)

参考例句：

• Time helped heal the old wounds.时间有助于治愈旧创伤。
• This wound will soon heal if yon keep it clean.如果你保持伤口清洁，它很快就会痊愈。

10 hook   

vt.钩住；n.钩子，钩状物

参考例句：

• The blacksmith forged a bar of iron into a hook.铁匠把一根铁条锻造成一个钩子。
• He hangs up his scarf on the hook behind the door.他把围巾挂在门后的衣钩上。

11 dimly   

ad.模糊地；朦胧地

参考例句：

• He was only dimly aware that it was raining.他只是模模糊糊地意识到天在下雨。
• A figure was dimly visible in the evening gloom.沉沉的暮色里一个身影隐约可见。

12 ail   

v.生病，折磨，苦恼

参考例句：

• It may provide answers to some of the problems that ail America.这一点可能解答困扰美国的某些问题。
• Seek your sauce where you get your ail.心痛还须心药治。

13 killing   

n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财

参考例句：

• Investors are set to make a killing from the sell-off.投资者准备清仓以便大赚一笔。
• Last week my brother made a killing on Wall Street.上个周我兄弟在华尔街赚了一大笔。

14 stump   

n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走

参考例句：

• He went on the stump in his home state.他到故乡所在的州去发表演说。
• He used the stump as a table.他把树桩用作桌子。

15 urgently   

ad.紧急地，紧迫地

参考例句：

• You would be well advised to tackle this problem urgently. 你还是抓紧处理这个问题为好。
• Please send us the material at once; it's urgently needed. 请把材料赶紧送来，有急用。

16 regain   

vt.重新获得，收复，恢复

参考例句：

• He is making a bid to regain his World No.1 ranking.他正为重登世界排名第一位而努力。
• The government is desperate to regain credibility with the public.政府急于重新获取公众的信任。

17 criticize   

vt.批评；批判，指责；评论，评价

参考例句：

• Whenever you criticize him,he always has an excuse.你批评他，他总有说头儿。
• You are free to criticize my work.你可以随意批评我的工作。

18 sarcastic   

adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的

参考例句：

• I squashed him with a sarcastic remark.我说了一句讽刺的话把他给镇住了。
• She poked fun at people's shortcomings with sarcastic remarks.她冷嘲热讽地拿别人的缺点开玩笑。

19 depressed   

adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的

参考例句：

• When he was depressed,he felt utterly divorced from reality.他心情沮丧时就感到完全脱离了现实。
• His mother was depressed by the sad news.这个坏消息使他的母亲意志消沉。

20 routine   

n.例行公事，惯例；adj.例行的，常规的

参考例句：

• It is everyday routine.这是每天的例行公事。
• She found the hospital routine slightly dull.她感到医院的工作有点枯燥乏味。

21 missing   

adj.遗失的，缺少的，失踪的

参考例句：

• Check the tools and see if anything is missing.检点一下工具，看有无丢失。
• All the others are here;he's the only one missing.别人都来了，就短他一个。

22 cursing   

n.诅咒；咒骂

参考例句：

• "I'm cursing the swine,'said Ah Fu. 阿福道：“我骂猪猡。”
• "The swine is cursing me,'said Li. 李先生道：“猪猡骂我。”

23 peculiar   

adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的

参考例句：

• He walks in a peculiar fashion.他走路的样子很奇特。
• He looked at me with a very peculiar expression.他用一种很奇怪的表情看着我。

24 blade   

n.刀刃，刀片；叶片

参考例句：

• Blade and handle are the component parts of a knife.刀身和刀柄是一把刀的组成部分。
• He is a good blade.他剑术高明。

25 bent   

n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的

参考例句：

• He was fully bent upon the project.他一心扑在这项计划上。
• We bent over backward to help them.我们尽了最大努力帮助他们。