The nurse who that evening comes into his room (a private room, $160 more a day, but it's worth it to him; in Florida the guy in the bed next to him finally died, gurgling and moaning all day and then shitting all over himself as a last pronouncement) and takes Harry1's temperature and blood pressure and brings his allotment of pills in a little paper cup has a round kind face. She is a bit overweight but it's packed on firm. She looks familiar. She has pale?blue eyes in sockets2 that make a dent3 above the cheekbones in the three?quarters view, and her upper lip has that kind of puffy look he likes, like Michelle Pfeiffer. Her hair shows under her nurse's cap as browny?red, many?colored, with even a little gray, though she is young enough to be his daughter.
She lifts the strange plastic rocket?shaped thermometer that gives its reading in red segmented numbers from his mouth and enwraps his left arm with the Velcro?fastened blood?pressure cuff4. As she inflates5 it she asks, "How's the Toyota business?"
"Not bad. The weak dollar doesn't help. My son runs the place now, basically. How'd you know I sold Toyotas?"
"My boyfriend then and I bought a car from you about ten years ago." She lifts those bleached6 blue eyes mockingly. "Don't you remember?"
"It's you! Yes. Of course. Of course I remember. An orange Corolla." She is his daughter; or at least he imagines she is, though Ruth out of spite would never admit it to him. As the girl stands close to his bed, he reads her badge: ANNABELLE BYER; R.N. She still has her maiden7 name.
Annabelle frowns, and deflates the blood?pressure cuff, as tight around his arm as a policeman's grip. "Let's try that again in a minute. It shot up while we were talking."
He asks her, "How'd the Corolla work out? How'd the boyfriend work out, for that matter? What the hell was his name? Big red?eared country kid."
"Don't talk, please, until I've got my reading. I'll be quiet. Try to think of something soothing8."
He thinks of Ruth's farm, the Byer place, the slope down through the orchard9 from the line of scrub trees he used to spy behind ? the little square stone house, the yellow shells of the abandoned school buses, the dark collie that tried to herd10 him down there, as though he knew Harry belonged there with the others. Fritzie, that was that dog's name. Sharp teeth, black gums. Oo boy, scary. Calm down. Think of the big sky of Texas, above the hot low barracks at Fort Larson, himself in fresh khaki, with a pass for the evening. Freedom, a soft breeze, a green sunset on the low horizon. Think of playing basketball against Oriole High, that little country gym, the backboards flush against the walls, before all the high schools merged11 into big colorless regionals and shopping malls began eating up the farmland. Think of sledding with Mim in her furry12 hood13, in Mt. Judge behind the hat factory, on a winter's day so short the streetlights come on an hour before suppertime calls you home.
"That's better," the nurse says. "One forty over ninety?five. Not great, but not bad. In answer to your questions: the car lasted longer than the boyfriend. I traded in the car after eight years; it had a hundred twenty thousand miles on the speedometer. Jamie moved out about a year after we moved into town. He went back to Galilee. Brewer14 was too tough for him."
"And you? Is it too tough for you?"
"No, I like it. I like the action."
Action like her mother used to get? You were a real hooer? Dusk and May's fully15 arrived leafiness soften16 his private room; it is a quiet time on the hospital floor, after dinner and the post?work surge of visitors. Harry dares ask, "You married now? Or live with a guy?"
She smiles, her natural kindness contending a moment with surprise at his curiosity, his presumption17, and then smoothing her face into calm again. The dusk seems to be gathering18 it closer, the pale round glimmer19 of her face. But her voice discloses a city dryness, a guardedness that might rise up. "No, as a matter of fact I live with my mother. She sold the farm we inherited from my father and moved in with me after Jamie moved out."
"I think I know that farm. I've passed it on the road." Harry's violated, tired heart feels weighted by so much information, as his groin had been weighted down, literally20 sandbagged, in the hours after the angioplasty. To think of that other world, with all its bushes and seasons and green days and brown, where this child's life had passed without him. "Does Ruth -" he begins, and ends, "What does she do? Your mother."
The girl gives him a look but then answers readily, as if the question passed some test. "She works for one of these investment companies from out of state, money markets and mutual21 funds and all that, that have branch offices in the new glass building downtown, across from where Kroll's used to be."
"A stenographer," Rabbit remembers. "She could take dictation and type."
The girl actually laughs, in surprise at his groping command of the truth. She is beginning to be pert, to drop her nurse's manner. She has backed off a step from his bed, and her full thighs22 press against the crisp front of her white uniform so that even standing23 up she has a lap. Why is Ruth turning this girl into a spinster? She tells him, "She was hired for that but being so much older than the other women they've let her have some more responsibility. She's a kind of junior exec now. Did you know my mother, ever?"
"I'm not sure," he lies.
"You must have, in the days when she was single. She told me she knew quite a few guys before meeting up with my father." She smiles, giving him permission to have known her mother.
"I guess she did," Harry says, sad at the thought. Always he has wanted to be every woman's only man, as he was his mother's only son. "I met her once or twice."
"You should see her," Annabelle goes on pertly. "She's lost a lot of weight and dresses real snappy. I kid her, she has more boyfriends than I do."
Rabbit closes his eyes and tries to picture it, at their age. Come on. Work. Dressing24 snappy. Once a city girl, always a city girl. Her hair, that first time he saw her, rimmed25 with red neon like wilt26.
The girl he thinks is his daughter goes on, "I'll tell her you're in here, Mr. Angstrom." Though he is trying now to withdraw, into his evening stupor27, an awakening28 affinity29 between them has stirred her to a certain forwardness. "Maybe she'll remember more than you do."
Outside the sealed hospital windows, in the slowly thickening dusk, sap is rising, and the air even in here feels languid with pollen30. Involuntarily Harry's eyes close again. "No," he says, "that's O.K. Don't tell her anything. I doubt if she'd remember anything." He is suddenly tired, too tired for Ruth. Even if this girl is his daughter, it's an old story, going on and on, like a radio nobody's listening to.
1 harry | |
vt.掠夺,蹂躏,使苦恼 | |
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2 sockets | |
n.套接字,使应用程序能够读写与收发通讯协定(protocol)与资料的程序( Socket的名词复数 );孔( socket的名词复数 );(电器上的)插口;托座;凹穴 | |
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3 dent | |
n.凹痕,凹坑;初步进展 | |
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4 cuff | |
n.袖口;手铐;护腕;vt.用手铐铐;上袖口 | |
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5 inflates | |
v.使充气(于轮胎、气球等)( inflate的第三人称单数 );(使)膨胀;(使)通货膨胀;物价上涨 | |
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6 bleached | |
漂白的,晒白的,颜色变浅的 | |
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7 maiden | |
n.少女,处女;adj.未婚的,纯洁的,无经验的 | |
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8 soothing | |
adj.慰藉的;使人宽心的;镇静的 | |
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9 orchard | |
n.果园,果园里的全部果树,(美俚)棒球场 | |
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10 herd | |
n.兽群,牧群;vt.使集中,把…赶在一起 | |
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11 merged | |
(使)混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 ); 相融; 融入; 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
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12 furry | |
adj.毛皮的;似毛皮的;毛皮制的 | |
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13 hood | |
n.头巾,兜帽,覆盖;v.罩上,以头巾覆盖 | |
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14 brewer | |
n. 啤酒制造者 | |
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15 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
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16 soften | |
v.(使)变柔软;(使)变柔和 | |
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17 presumption | |
n.推测,可能性,冒昧,放肆,[法律]推定 | |
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18 gathering | |
n.集会,聚会,聚集 | |
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19 glimmer | |
v.发出闪烁的微光;n.微光,微弱的闪光 | |
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20 literally | |
adv.照字面意义,逐字地;确实 | |
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21 mutual | |
adj.相互的,彼此的;共同的,共有的 | |
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22 thighs | |
n.股,大腿( thigh的名词复数 );食用的鸡(等的)腿 | |
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23 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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24 dressing | |
n.(食物)调料;包扎伤口的用品,敷料 | |
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25 rimmed | |
adj.有边缘的,有框的v.沿…边缘滚动;给…镶边 | |
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26 wilt | |
v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎;(指人)疲倦,衰弱 | |
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27 stupor | |
v.昏迷;不省人事 | |
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28 awakening | |
n.觉醒,醒悟 adj.觉醒中的;唤醒的 | |
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29 affinity | |
n.亲和力,密切关系 | |
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30 pollen | |
n.[植]花粉 | |
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