He owns Springer Motors, one of the two Toyota agencies in the Brewer15 area. Or rather he co?owns a half?interest with his wife Janice, her mother Bessie sitting on the other half inherited when old man Springer died five years back. But Rabbit feels as though he owns it all, showing up at the showroom day after day, riding herd17 on the paperwork and the payroll18, swinging in his clean suit in and out of Service and Parts where the men work filmed with oil and look up white?eyed from the bulb?lit engines as in a kind of underworld while he makes contact with the public, the community, the star and spearpoint of all these two dozen employees and hundred thousand square feet of working space, which seem a wide shadow behind him as he stands there up front. The wall of imitation boards, really sheets of random20?grooved21 Masonite, around the door into his office is hung with framed old clippings and team portraits, including two all?county tens, from his days as a basketball hero twenty years ago ? no, more than twenty?five years now. Even under glass, the clippings keep yellowing, something in the chemistry of the paper apart from the air, something like the deepening taint24 of sin people used to try to scare you with. ANGSTROM HITS FOR 42. "Rabbit" Leads Mt. Judge Into Semi?Finals. Resurrected from the attic25 where his dead parents had long kept them, in scrapbooks whose mucilage had dried so they came loose like snakeskins, these clippings thus displayed were Fred Springer's idea, along with that phrase about an agency's reputation being the shadow of the man up front. Knowing he was dying long before he did, Fred was getting Harry27 ready to be the man up front. When you think of the dead, you got to be grateful.
Ten years ago when Rabbit got laid off as a Linotyper and reconciled with Janice, her father took him on as salesman and when the time was ripe five years later had the kindness to die. Who would have thought such a little tense busy bird of a man could get it up for a massive coronary? Hypertense: his diastolic had been up around one?twenty for years. Loved salt. Loved to talk Republican, too, and when Nixon left him nothing to say he had kind of burst. Actually, he had lasted a year into Ford28, but the skin of his face was getting tighter and the red spots where the cheek and jaw29 bones pressed from underneath30 redder. When Harry looked down at him rouged31 in the coffin32 he saw it had been coming, dead Fred hadn't much changed. From the way Janice and her mother carried on you would have thought a mixture of Prince Valiant33 and Moses had bit the dust. Maybe having already buried both his own parents made Harry hard. He looked down, noticed that Fred's hair had been parted wrong, and felt nothing. The great thing about the dead, they make space.
While old man Springer was still prancing34 around, life at the lot was hard. He kept long hours, held the showroom open on winter nights when there wasn't a snowplow moving along Route 111, was always grinding away in that little high?pitched grinder of a voice about performance guidelines and washout profits and customer servicing and whether or not a mechanic had left a thumbprint on some heap's steering37 wheel or a cigarette butt38 in the ashtray39. When he was around the lot it was like they were all trying to fill some big skin that Springer spent all his time and energy imagining, the ideal Springer Motors. When he died that skin became Harry's own, to stand around in loosely. Now that he is king of the lot he likes it here, the acre of asphalt, the new?car smell present even in the pamphlets and pep talks Toyota mails from California, the shampooed carpet wall to wall, the yellowing basketball feats40 up on the walls along with the plaques41 saying Kiwanis and Rotary43 and C of C and the trophies44 on a high shelf won by the Little League teams the company sponsors, the ample square peace of this masculine place spiced by the girls in billing and reception that come and go under old Mildred Kroust, and the little cards printed with HAROLD C. ANGSTROM on them and CHIEF SALES REPRESENTATIVE. The man up front. A center of sorts, where he had been a forward. There is an airiness to it for Harry, standing45 there in his own skin, casting a shadow. The cars sell themselves, is his philosophy. The Toyota commercials on television are out there all the time, preying47 on people's minds. He likes being part of all that; he likes the nod he gets from the community, that had overlooked him like dirt ever since high school. The other men in Rotary and Chamber48 turn out to be the guys he played ball with back then, or their ugly younger brothers. He likes having money to float in, a big bland50 good guy is how he sees himself, six three and around two fifteen by now, with a forty?two waist the suit salesman at Kroll's tried to tell him until he sucked his gut51 in and the man's thumb grudgingly52 inched the tape tighter. He avoids mirrors, when he used to love them. The face far in his past, crewcut and thin jawed53 with sleepy predatory teen?age eyes in the glossy54 team portraits, exists in his present face like the chrome bones of a grille within the full front view of a car and its fenders. His nose is still small and straight, his eyes maybe less sleepy. An ample blown?dry?looking businessman's haircut masks his eartips and fills in where his temples are receding56. He didn't much like the counterculture with all its drugs and draft?dodging57 but he does like being allowed within limits to let your hair grow longer than those old Marine58 cuts and to have it naturally fluff out. In the shaving mirror a chaos59 of wattles and slack cords blooms beneath his chin in a way that doesn't bear study. Still, life is sweet. That's what old people used to say and when he was young he wondered how they could mean it.
Last night it hailed in Brewer and its suburbs. Stones the size of marbles leaped up from the slant60 little front yards and drummed on the tin signs supporting flickering61 neon downtown; then came a downpour whose puddles63 reflected a dawn gray as stone. But the day has turned breezy and golden and the patched and whitestriped asphalt of the lot is dry, late in the afternoon of this longest Saturday in June and the first of calendar summer. Usually on a Saturday Route 111 is buzzing with shoppers pillaging64 the malls hacked65 from the former fields of corn, rye, tomatoes, cabbages, and strawberries. Across the highway, the four concrete lanes and the median divider of aluminum66 battered67 by many forgotten accidents, stands a low building faced in dark clinker brick that in the years since Harry watched its shell being slapped together of plywood has been a succession of unsuccessful restaurants and now serves as the Chuck Wagon, specializing in barbecued take?outs. The Chuck Wagon too seems quiet today. Beyond its lot littered with flattened68 take?out cartons a lone69 tree, a dusty maple70, drinks from a stream that has become a mere71 ditch. Beneath its branches a picnic table rots unused, too close to the overflowing73 dumpster the restaurant keeps by its kitchen door. The ditch marks the bound of a piece of farmland sold off but still awaiting its development. This shapely old maple from its distance seems always to be making to Harry an appeal he must ignore.
He turns from the dusty window and says to Charlie Stavros, "They're running scared out there."
Charlie looks up from the desk where he is doing paperwork, the bill of sale and NV?1 on a '74 Barracuda 8 they finally moved for twenty?eight hundred yesterday. Nobody wants these old guzzlers, though you got to take them on trade?in. Charlie handles the used cats. Though he has been with Springer Motors twice as long as Harry, his desk is in a corner of the showroom, out in the open, and the ride on h15 Card is SENIOR SALES REPRESENTATIVE. Yet he bears no grudge74. He sets down his pen even with the edge of his papers and in response to his boss asks, "Did you see in the paper the other day where some station owner and his wife somewhere in the middle of the state were pumping gas for a line and one of the cars slips its clutch and crushes the wife against the car next in line, broke her hip75 I think I read, and while the husband was holding her and begging for help the people in the cars instead of giving him any help took over the pumps and gave themselves free gas?"
"Yeah," Harry says, "I guess I heard that on the radio, though it's hard to believe. Also about some guy in Pittsburgh who takes a couple of two?by?fours with him and drives his back wheels up on them so as to get a few more cents' worth of gas in his tank. That's fanatical."
Charlie emits a sardonic76, single?syllabled77 laugh, and explains, "The little man is acting78 like the oil companies now. I'll get mine, and screw you."
"I don't blame the oil companies," Harry says tranquilly79. "It's too big for them too. Mother Earth is drying up, is all."
"Shit, champ, you never blame anybody," Stavros tells the taller man. "Skylab could fall on your head right now and you'd go down saying the government had done its best."
Harry tries to picture this happening and agrees, "Maybe so. They're strapped81 these days like everybody else. About all the feds can do these days is meet their own payroll."
"That they're guaranteed to do, the greedy bastards82. Listen, Harry. You know damn well Carter and the oil companies have rigged this whole mess. What does Big Oil want? Bigger profits. What does Carter want? Less oil imports, less depreciation84 of the dollar. He's too chicken to ration85, so he's hoping higher prices will do it for him. We'll have dollar?fifty no?lead before the year is out."
."And people'll pay it," Harry says, serene86 in his middle years. The two men fall silent, as if arrived at a truce87, while the scared traffic kicks up dust along the business strip of Route 111 and the unbought Toyotas in the showroom exude88 new?car smell. Ten years ago Stavros had an affair with Harry's wife Janice. Harry thinks of Charlie's prick89 inside Janice and his feeling is hostile and cozy90 in almost equal proportions, coziness getting the edge. At the time he took his son?in?law on, old man Springer asked him if he could stomach working with him, Charlie. Rabbit didn't see why not. Sensing he was being asked to bargain, he said he'd work with him, not under him. No question of that, you'd be under me only, as long as I'm among the living, Springer had promised: you two'll work side by side. Side by side then they had waited for customers in all weathers and bemoaned91 their boss's finickiness and considered monthly which of the used cars on inventory92 would never move and should be wholesaled93 to cut carrying costs. Side by side they had suffered with Springer Motors as the Datsun franchise95 came into the Brewer area, and then those years when everyone was buying VWs and Volvos, and now the Hondas and Le Car presenting themselves as the newest thing in cute economy. In these nine years Harry added thirty pounds to his frame while Charlie went from being a chunky Greek who when he put on his shades and a checked suit looked like an enforcer for the local numbers racket to a shrivelled little tipster?type. Stavros had always had a tricky97 ticker, from rheumatic fever when he was a boy. Janice had been moved by this, this weakness hidden within him, his squarish chest. Now like a flaw ramifying to the surface of a crystal his infirmity has given him that dehydrated prissy look of a reformed rummy, of a body preserved day to day by taking thought. His eyebrows99 that used to go straight across like an iron bar have dwindled100 in to be two dark clumps101, disconnected, almost like the charcoal102 dabs104 clowns wear. His sideburns have gone white so the top of his tightly wavy105 hair looks dyed in a broad stripe. Each morning at work Charlie changes his lavender?tinted106 black hornrims for ones with amber49 lenses the instant he's indoors, and walks through the day's business like a grizzled old delicate ram22 who doesn't want to slip on a crag and fall. Side by side, 1 promise you. When old man Springer promised that, when he turned his full earnestness on anything, the pink patches in his face glowed red and his lips tightened108 back from his teeth so you thought all the more of his skull109. Dirty yellow teeth loaded with gum?line fillings, and his sandcolored mustache never looked quite even, or quite clean.
The dead, Jesus. They were multiplying, and they look up begging you to join them, promising110 it is all right, it is very soft down here. Pop, Mom, old man Springer, Jill, the baby called Becky for her little time, Tothero. Even John Wayne, the other day. The obituary111 page every day shows another stalk of a harvest endlessly rich, the faces of old teachers, customers, local celebrities112 like himself flashing for a moment and then going down. For the first time since childhood Rabbit is happy, simply, to be alive. He tells Charlie, "I figure the oil's going to run out about the same time I do, the year two thousand. Seems funny to say it, but I'm glad .I lived when I did. These kids coming up, they'll be living on table scraps114. We had the meal."
"You've been sold a bill of goods," Charlie tells him. "You and a lot of others. Big Oil has enough reserves located right now to last five hundred years, but they want to ooze115 it out. In the Delaware Bay right now I heard there's seventeen supertankers, seventeen, at anchor waiting for the prices to go up enough for them to come into the South Philly refineries116 and unload. Meanwhile you get murdered in gas lines."
"Stop driving. Run," Rabbit tells him. "I've begun this jogging thing and it feels great. I want to lose thirty pounds." Actually his resolve to run before breakfast every day, in the dew of the dawn, lasted less than a week. Now he contents himself with trotting117 around the block after supper sometimes to get away from his wife and her mother while they crab118 at each other.
He has touched a sore point. Charlie confides119 as if to the NV?1 form, "Doctor tells me if I try any exercise he washes his hands."
Rabbit is abashed120, slightly. "Really? That's not what that Doctor Whatsisname used to say. White. Paul Dudley White."
"He died. Exercise freaks are dropping down dead in the parks like flies. It doesn't get into the papers because the fitness industry has become big bucks121. Remember all those little health?food stores hippies used to run? You know who runs 'em now? General Mills."
Harry doesn't always know how seriously to take Charlie. He does know, in relation to his old rival, that he is hearty122 and huge, indisputably preferred by God in this chance matter of animal health. If Janice had run off with Charlie like she wanted to she'd be nothing but a nursemaid now. As is, she plays tennis three, four times a week and has never looked sharper. Harry keeps wanting to downplay himself around Charlie, protecting the more fragile man from the weight of his own good fortune. He keeps silent, while Charlie's mind works its way back from the shame and shadow of his doctor washing his hands, back into memory's reserves of energy. "Gasoline," he suddenly says, giving it that Greek cackle, almost a wheeze125. "Didn't we used to burn it up? I had an Imperial once with twin carburetors and when you took off the filter and looked down through the butterfly valve when the thing was idling it looked like a toilet being flushed."
Harry laughs, wanting to ride along. "Cruising," he says, "after high school got out, there was nothing to do but cruise. Back and forth126 along Central, back and forth. Those old V?8s, what do you think they got to the gallon? Ten, twelve miles? Nobody ever thought to keep track."
"My uncles still won't drive a little car. Say they don't want to get crumpled127 if they meet a truck."
"Remember Chicken? Funny more kids weren't killed than were."
"Cadillacs. If one of his brothers got a Buick with fins129, my father had to have a Cadillac with bigger fins. You couldn't count the taillights, it looked like a carton of red eggs."
"There was one guy at Mt. Judge High, Don Eberhardt, 'd get out on the running board of his Dad's Dodge130 when it was going down the hill behind the box factory and steer36 from out there. All the way down the hill."
"First car I bought for myself, it was a '48 Studebaker, with that nose that looked like an airplane. Had about sixty?five thousand miles on it, it was the summer of '53. The dig?out on that baby! After a stoplight you could feel the front wheels start to lift, just like an airplane."
"Here's a story. One time when we were pretty newly married I got sore at Janice for something, just being herself probably, and drove to West Virginia and back in one night. Crazy. You couldn't do that now without going to the savings132 bank first."
"Yeah," Charlie says slowly, saddened. Rabbit hadn't wanted to sadden him. He could never figure out, exactly, how much the man had loved Janice. "She described that. You did a lot of roaming around then."
"A little. I brought the car back though. When she left me, she took the car and kept it. As you remember."
"Do I?"
He has never married, and that says something flattering, to Janice and therefore to Harry, the way it's worked out. A man fucks your wife, it puts a new value on her, within limits. Harry wants to restore the conversation to the cheerful plane of dwindling133 energy. He tells Stavros, "Saw a kind of funny joke in the paper the other day. It said, You can't beat Christopher Columbus for mileage. Look how far he got on three galleons134." He pronounces the crucial word carefully, in three syllables136; but Charlie doesn't act as if he gets it, only smiles a one?sided twitch137 of a smile that could be in response to pain.
"The oil companies made us do it," Charlie says. "They said, Go ahead, burn it up like madmen, all these highways, the shopping malls, everything. People won't believe it in a hundred years, the sloppy138 way we lived."
"It's like wood," Harry says, groping back through history, which is a tinted fog to him, marked off in centuries like a football field, with a few dates ?1066, 1776 ? pinpointed139 and a few faces ? George Washington, Hitler ?hanging along the sidelines, not cheering. "Or coal. As a kid I can remember the anthracite rattling140 down the old coal chute, with these red dots they used to put on it. I couldn't imagine how they did it, I thought it was something that happened in the ground. Little elves with red brushes. Now there isn't any anthracite. That stuff they strip?mine now just crumbles141 in your hand." It gives him pleasure, makes Rabbit feel rich, to contemplate142 the world's wasting, to know that the earth is mortal too.
"Well," Charlie sighs. "At least it's going to keep those chinks from ever having an industrial revolution."
That seems to wrap it up, though Harry feels they have let something momentous143, something alive under the heading of energy, escape. But a lot of topics, he has noticed lately, in private conversation and even on television where they're paid to talk it up, run dry, exhaust themselves, as if everything's been said in this hemisphere. In his inner life too Rabbit dodges145 among more blanks than there used to be, patches of burnt?out gray cells where there used to be lust146 and keen dreaming and wide?eyed dread147; he falls asleep, for instance, at the drop of a hat. He never used to understand the phrase. But then he never used to wear a hat and now, at the first breath of cold weather, he does. His roof wearing thin, starlight showing through.
You ASKED FOR IT, WE GOT IT, the big paper banner on the showroom window cries, in tune124 with the current Toyota television campaign. The sign cuts a slice from the afternoon sun and gives the showroom a muted aquarium148 air, or that of a wide sunken ship wherein the two Coronas and the acid?green Corolla SR?5 liftback wait to be bought and hoisted149 into the air on the other side of the glass and set down safe on the surface of the lot and Route 111 and the world of asphalt beyond.
A car swings in from this world: a fat tired '71 or '2 Country Squire150 wagon soft on its shocks, with one dented151 fender hammered out semi?smooth but the ruddy rustproofing underpaint left to do for a finish. A young couple steps out, the girl milky152?pale and bare?legged and blinking in the sunshine but the boy roughened and reddened by the sun, his jeans dirt?stiffened153 by actual work done in the red mud of the county. A kind of crate154 of rough green boards has been built into the Squire's chrome roof rack and from where Rabbit is standing, a soft wedge shot away, he can see how the upholstery and inner padding have been mangled155 by the station wagon's use as a farm truck. "Hicks," Charlie says from his desk. The pair comes in shyly, like elongated156 animals, sniffing157 the air?conditioned air.
Feeling protective, God knows why, Charlie's snipe ringing in his ears, Harry walks toward them, glancing at the girl's hand to see if she wears a wedding ring. She does not, but such things mean less than they used to. Kids shack158 up. Her age he puts at nineteen or twenty, the boy a bit older ? the age of his own son. "Can I help you folks?"
The boy brushes back his hair, showing a low white forehead. His broad baked face gives him a look of smiling even when he isn't. "We chust came in for some information." His accent bespeaks159 the south of the county, less aggressively Dutch than the north, where the brick churches get spiky160 and the houses and barns are built of limestone161 instead of sandstone. Harry figures them for leaving some farm to come into the city, with no more need to haul fenceposts and hay bales and pumpkins162 and whatever else this poor heap was made to haul. Shack up, get city jobs, and spin around in a little Corolla. We got it. But the boy could be just scouting163 out prices for his father, and the girlfriend be riding along, or not even be a girlfriend, but a sister, or a hitchhiker. A little touch of the hooker about her looks. The way her soft body wants to spill from these small clothes, the faded denim165 shorts and ?purple Paisley halter. The shining faintly freckled166 flesh of her shoulders and top arms and the busy wanton abundance of her browny?red many?colored hair, carelessly bundled. A buried bell rings. She has blue eyes in deep sockets168 and the silence of a girl from the country used to letting men talk while she holds a sweetand?sour secret in her mouth, sucking it. An incongruous disco touch in her shoes, with their high cork169 heels and ankle straps170. Pink toes, painted nails. This girl will not stick with this boy. Rabbit wants this to be so; he imagines he feels an unwitting swimming of her spirit upward toward his, while her manner is all stillness. He feels she wants to hide from him, but is too big and white, too suddenly womanly, too nearly naked. Her shoes accent the length of her legs; she is taller than average, and not quite fat, though tending toward chunky, especially around the chest. Her upper lip closes over the lower with a puffy bruised171 look. She is bruisable, he wants to protect her; he relieves her of the pressure of his gaze, too long by a second, and turns to the boy.
"This is a Corolla," Harry says, slapping orange tin. "The twodoor model begins at thirty?nine hundred and will give you highway mileage up to forty a gallon and twenty to twenty?five city driving. I know some other makes advertise more but believe me you can't get a better buy in America today than this jalopy right here. Read Consumer Reports, April issue. Much better than average on maintenance and repairs through the first four years. Who in this day and age keeps a car much longer than four years? In four years we may all be pushing bicycles the way things are going. This particular car has four?speed synchromesh transmission, fully135 transistorized ignition system, power?assisted front disc brakes, vinyl reclining bucket seats, a locking gas cap. That last feature's getting to be pretty important. Have you noticed lately how all the autosupply stores are selling out of their siphons? You can't buy a siphon in Brewer today for love nor money, guess why. My mother?in?law's old Chrysler over in Mt. Judge was drained dry the other day in front of the hairdresser's, she hardly ever takes the buggy out except to go to church. People are getting rough. Did you notice in the .paper this morning where Carter is taking gas from the farmers and going to give it to the truckers? Shows the power of a gun, doesn't it?"
"I didn't see the paper," the boy says.
He is standing there so stolidly176 Harry has to move around him with a quick shuffle177?step, dodging a cardboard cutout of a happy customer with her dog and packages, to slap acid?green. "Now if you want to replace your big old wagon, that's some antique, with another wagon that gives you almost just as much space for half the running expense, this SR?5 has some beautiful features ? a fivespeed transmission with an overdrive that really saves fuel on a long trip, and a fold?down split rear seat that enables you to carry one passenger back there and still have the long space on the other side for golf clubs or fenceposts or whatever. I don't know why Detroit never thought it, that split seat. Here we're supposed to be Automobile178 Heaven and the foreigners come up with all the ideas. If you ask me Detroit's let us all down, two hundred million of us. I'd much rather handle native American cars but between the three of us they're junk. They're cardboard. They're pretend."
"Now what are those over there?" the boy asks.
"That's the Corona12, if you want to move toward the top of the line. Bigger engine ? twenty?two hundred ccs. Instead of sixteen. More of a European look. I drive one and love it. I get about thirty miles to the gallon on the highway, eighteen or so in Brewer. Depends on how you drive, of course. How heavy a foot you have. Those testers for Consumer Reports, they must really give it the gun, their mileage figures are the one place they seem off to me. This liftback here is priced at sixty?eight five, but remember you're buying yen for dollars, and when trade?in time comes you get your yen back."
The girl smiles at "yen." The boy, gaining confidence, says, "And this one here now." The young farmer has touched the Celica's suave179 black hood113. Harry is running out of enthusiasm. Interested in that, the kid wasn't very interested in buying.
"You've just put your hand on one super machine," Harry tells him. "The Celica GT Sport Coupe, a car that'll ride with a Porsche or an MG any day. Steel?belted radials, quartz180 crystal clock, AM/FM stereo ? all standard. Standard. You can imagine what the extras are. This one has power steering and a sun roof. Frankly181, it's pricey, pretty near five figures, but like I say, it's an investment. That's how people buy cars now, more and more.
'That old Kleenex mentality182 of trade it in every two years is gone with the wind. Buy a good solid car now, you'll have something for a long while, while the dollars if you keep 'em will go straight to Hell. Buy good goods, that's my advice to any young man starting up right now."
He must be getting too impassioned, for the boy says, "We're chust looking around, more or less."
"I understand that," Rabbit says quickly, pivoting183 to face the silent girl. "You're under absolutely no pressure from me. Picking a car is like picking a mate ? you want to take your time." The girl blushes and looks away. Generous paternal184 talkativeness keeps bubbling up in Harry. "It's still a free country, the Commies haven't gotten any further than Cambodia. No way I can make you folks buy until you're good and ready. It's all the same to me, this product sells itself. Actually you're lucky there's such a selection on the floor, a shipment came in two weeks ago and we won't have another until August. Japan can't make enough of these cars to keep the world happy. Toyota is number?one import all over the globe." He can't take his eyes of this girl. Those chunky eyesockets reminding him of somebody. The milky flecked shoulders, the dent9 of flesh where the halter strap80 digs. Squeeze her and you'd leave thumbprints, she's that fresh from the oven. "Tell me," he says, "which size're you thinking of? You planning to cart a family around, or just yourselves?"
The girl's blush deepens. Don't marry this chump, Harry thinks. His brats185 will drag you down. The boy says, "We don't need another wagon. My dad has a Chevy pick?up, and he let me take the Squire over when I got out of high school."
"A great junk car," Rabbit concedes. "You can hurt it but you can't kill it. Even in '71 they were putting more metal in than they do now. Detroit is giving up the ghost." He feels he is floating on their youth, on his money, on the brightness of this June afternoon and its promise that tomorrow, a Sunday, will be fair for his golf game. "But for people planning to tie the knot and get serious you need something more than a nostalgia186 item, you need something more like this." He slaps orange tin again and reads irritation187 in the cool pallor of the girl's eyes as they lift to his. Forgive me, baby, you get so fucking bored standing around in here, when the time comes you tend to run off at the mouth.
Stavros, forgotten, calls from his desk, across the showroom space awash in sun shafts188 slowly approaching the horizontal, "Maybe they'd like to take a spin." He wants peace and quiet for his paperwork.
"Want to test drive?" Harry asks the couple.
"It's pretty late," the boy points out.
"It'll take a minute. You only pass this way once. Live it up. I'll get some keys and a plate. Charlie, are the keys to the blue Corolla outside hanging on the pegboard or in your desk?"
"I'll get 'em," Charlie grunts189. He pushes up from his desk and, still bent190, goes into the corridor behind the waist?high partition of frosted glass ? a tacky improvement ordered by Fred Springer toward the end of his life. Behind it, three hollow flush doors in a wall of fake?walnut191 pressboard open into the offices of Mildred Kroust and the billing girl, whoever she is that month, with the office of the Chief Sales Representative between them. The doors are usually ajar and the girl and Mildred keep crossing back and forth to consult. Harry prefers to stand out here on the floor. In the old days there were just three steel desks and a strip of carpet; the one closed door marked the company toilet with its dispenser of powdered soap you turned upside down to get any out of. Reception now is off in another separate cubicle192, adjoining the waiting room where few customers ever wait. The keys Charlie needs hang, among many others, some no longer unlocking anything in this world, on a pegboard darkened by the touch of greasy193 fingertips beside the door on the way to Parts: Parts, that tunnel of loaded steel shelves whose sliding window overlooks the clangorous cavern194 of Service. No reason for Charlie to go except he knows where things are and you don't want to leave customers alone for a moment and feeling foolish, they're apt to sneak195 away. More timid than deer, customers. With nothing to say between them, the boy, the girl, and Harry can hear the faint strained wheeze of Charlie's breathing as he comes back with the demonstrator Corolla keys and the dealer197's plate on its rusty198 spring clip. "Want me to take these youngsters out?" he asks.
"No, you sit and rest," Harry tells him, adding, "You might start locking up in back." Their sign claims they are open Saturdays to six but on this ominous199 June day of gas drought quarter of should be close enough. "Back in a minute."
The boy asks the girl, "Want to come or stay here?"
"Oh, come," she says, impatience200 lighting201 up her mild face as she turns and names him. "Jamie, Mother expects me back."
Harry reassures202 her, "It'll just take a minute." Mother. He wishes he could ask her to describe Mother.
Out on the lot, bright wind is bringing summer in. The spots ofgrass around the asphalt sport buttery dabs of dandelion. He clips the plate to the back of the Corolla and hands the boy the keys. He holds the seat on the passenger side forward so the girl can get into the rear; as she does so the denim of her shorts permits a peek203 of cheek of ass23. Rabbit squeezes into the death seat and explains to Jamie the trinkets of the dashboard, including the space where a tape deck could go. They are, all three passengers, on the tall side, and the small car feels stuffed. Yet with imported spunk204 the Toyota tugs205 them into rapid motion and finds its place in the passing lane of Route 111. Like riding on the back of a big bumblebee; you feel on top of the buzzing engine. "Peppy," Jamie acknowledges.
"And smooth, considering," Harry adds, trying not to brake on the bare floor. To the girl he calls backwards207, "You O.K.? Shall I slide my seat forward to give more room?" The way the shorts are so short now you wonder if the crotches don't hurt. The stitching, pinching up.
"No I'm all right, I'll sit sideways."
He wants to turn and look at her but at his age turning his head is not so easy and indeed some days he wakes with pains all through the neck and shoulders from no more cause than his dead weight on the bed all night. He tells Jamie, "This is the sixteen hundred cc., they make a twelve hundred base model but we don't like to handle it, I'd hate to have it on my conscience that somebody was killed because he didn't have enough pick?up to get around a truck or something on these American roads. Also we believe in carrying a pretty full complement209 of options; without 'em you'll find yourself short?changed on the trade?in when the time comes." He manages to work his body around to look at the girl. "These Japanese for all their good qualities have pretty short legs," he tells her. The way she has to sit, her ass is nearly on the floor and her knees are up in the air, these young luminous211 knees inches from his face.
Unself?consciously she is pulling a few long hairs away from her mouth where they have blown and gazing through the side window at this commercial stretch of greater Brewer. Fast?food huts in eye?catching212 shapes and retail213 outlets214 of everything from bridal outfits215 to plaster birdbaths have widened the aspect of this, the old Weisertown Pike, with their parking lots, leaving the odd surviving house and its stump217 of a front lawn sticking out painfully. Competitors ? Pike Porsche and Renault, Diefendorfer Volkswagen, Old Red Barn Mazda and BMW, Diamond County Automotive Imports ? flicker62 their FUEL ECONOMY banners while the gasoline stations intermixed with their beckoning218 have shrouded219 pumps and tow trucks parked across the lanes where automobiles220 once glided222 in, were filled, and glided on. An effect of hostile barricade223, late in the day. Where did the shrouds224 come from? Some of them quite smartly tailored, in squared?off crimson225 canvas. A new industry, gas pump shrouds. Among vacant lakes of asphalt a few small stands offer strawberries and early peas. A tall sign gestures to a cement?block building well off the road; Rabbit can remember when this was a giant Mister Peanut pointing toward a low shop where salted nuts were arrayed in glass cases, Brazil nuts and hazelnuts and whole cashews and for a lesser227 price broken ones, Diamond County a great area for nuts but not that great, the shop failed. Its shell was broken and doubled in size and made into a nightclub and the sign repainted, keeping the top hat but Mister Peanut becoming a human reveller228 in white tie and trails. Now after many mutilations this sign has been turned into an ill?fitted female figure, a black silhouette229 with no bumps indicating clothing, her head thrown back and the large letters D I S C O falling in bubbles as if plucked one by one from her cut throat. Beyond such advertisements the worn green hills hold a haze226 of vapor230 and pale fields bake as their rows of corn thicken. The inside of the Corolla is warming with a mingled232 human smell. Harry thinks of the girl's long thigh233 as she stretched her way into the back seat and imagines he smells vanilla234. Cunt would be a good flavor of ice cream, Sealtest ought to work on it.
The silence from the young people troubles him. He prods235 it. ?He says, "Some storm last night. I heard on the radio this morning the underpass at Eisenhower and Seventh was flooded for over an hour."
Then he says, "You know it seems gruesome to me, all these gas stations closed up like somebody has died."
Then he says, "Did you see in the paper where the Hershey company has had to lay off nine hundred people because of the truckers' strike? Next thing we'll be in lines for Hershey bars."
The boy is intently passing a Freihofer's Bakery truck and Harry responds for him: "The downtown stores are all pulling out. Nothing left in the middle of the city now but the banks and the post office. They put that crazy stand of trees in to make a mall but it won't do any good, the people are still scared to go downtown."
The boy is staying in the fast lane, and in third gear, either for the pep or because he's forgotten there is a fourth. Harry asks him, "Getting the feel of it, Jamie? If you want to turn around, there's an intersection236 coming up."
The girl understands. "Jamie, we better turn around. The man wants to get home for supper."
As Jamie slows to ease right at the intersection, a Pacer ? silliest car on the road, looks like a glass bathtub upside?down ? swings left without looking. The driver is a fat spic in a Hawaiian shirt. The boy slaps the steering wheel in vain search for the horn. Toyota indeed has put the horn in a funny place, on two little arcs a thumb's reach inside the steering?wheel rim107; Harry reaches over quick and toots for him. The Pacer swerves237 back into its lane, with a dark look back above the Hawaiian shirt. Harry directs, `Jamie, I want you to take a left at the next light and go across the highway and take the next left you can and that'll bring us back." To the girl he explains, "Prettier this way." He thinks aloud, "What can I tell you about the car I haven't? It has a lot of locks. Those Japanese, they live on top of each other and are crazy about locks. Don't kid yourselves, we're coming to it, I won't be here to see it, but you will. When I was a kid nobody ever thought to lock their house and now everybody does, except my crazy wife. If she locked the door she'd lose the key. One of the reasons I'd like to go to Japan ? Toyota asks some of their dealers238 but you got to have a bigger gross than I do ? is to see how you lock up a paper house. At any rate. You can't get the key out of the ignition without releasing this catch down here. The trunk in back releases from this lever. The locking gas cap you already know about. Did either of you hear about the woman somewhere around Ardmore this week who cut into a gas line and the guy behind her got so mad he sneaked239 his own locking gas cap onto her tank so when she got to the pump the attendant couldn't remove it? They had to tow her away. Serve the bitch right, if you ask me."
They have taken their two lefts and are winding240 along a road where fields come to the edge so you can see the clumps of red earth still shiny from where the plow35 turned them, and where what businesses there are ?LAWNMOWERS SHARPENED, PA. DUTCH QUILTS ? seem to stem from an earlier decade than those along Route 111, which runs parallel. On the banks ofthe road, between mailboxes some of which are painted with a heart or hex design, crown vetch is in violet flower. At a crest241 the elephant?colored gas tanks of Brewer lift into view, and the brick?red rows as they climb Mt. Judge and smudge its side. Rabbit dares ask the girl, "You from around here?"
"More toward Galilee. My mother has a farm."
And is your mother's name Ruth? Harry wants to ask, but doesn't, lest he frighten her, and destroy for himself the vibration242 of excitement, of possibility untested. He tries to steal another peek at her, to see if her white skin is a mirror, and if the innocent blue in her eyes is his own, but his bulk restrains him, and the tightness of the car. He asks the boy, "You follow the Phillies, Jamie? How about that seven?zip loss last night? You don't see Bowa commit an error that often."
"Is Bowa the one with the big salary?"
Harry will feel better when he gets the Toyota out of this moron's hands. Every turn, he can feel the tires pull and the sudden secret widen within him, circle upon circle, it's like seed: seed that goes into the ground invisible and if it takes hold cannot be stopped, it fulfills243 the shape it was programmed for, its destiny, sure as our death, and shapely. "I think you mean Rose," he answers. "He's not been that much help, either. They're not going anywhere this year, Pittsburgh's the team. Pirates or Steelers, they always win. Take this left, at the yellow blinker. That'll take you right across One Eleven and then you swing into the lot from the back. What's your verdict?"
From the side the boy has an Oriental look ? a big stretch of skin between his red ear and red nose, puffy eyes whose glitter gives away nothing. People who gouge244 a living out of the dirt are just naturally mean, Harry has always thought. Jamie says, "Like I said we were looking around. This car seems pretty small but maybe that's chust what you're used to."
"Want to give the Corona a whirl? That interior feels like a palace after you've been in one of these, you wouldn't think it would, it's only about two centimeters wider and five longer." He marvels245 at himself, how centimeters trip off his tongue. Another five years with these cars and he'll be talking Japanese. "But you better get used," he tells Jamie, "to a little scaling down. The big old boats have had it. People trade 'em in and we can't give 'em away. Wholesale94 half of 'em, and the wholesalers turn 'em into windowboxes. The five hundred trade?in I'd allow you on yours is just a courtesy, believe me. We like to help young people out. I think it's a helluva world we're coming to, where a young couple like yourselves can't afford to buy a car or own a home. Ifyou can't get your foot on even the bottom rung of a society geared like this, people are going to lose faith in the system. The Sixties were a lark246 in the park compared to what we're going to see if things don't straighten out."
Loose stones in the back section of the lot crackle. They pull into the space the Corolla came from and the boy can't find the button to release the key until Harry shows him again. The girl leans forward, anxious to escape, and her breath stirs the colorless hairs on Harry's wrist. His shirt is stuck to his shoulder blades, he discovers standing to his height in the air. All three of them straighten slowly. The sun is still bright but horsetails high in the sky cast doubt upon the weather for tomorrow's golf game after all. "Good driving," he says to Jamie, having given up on any sale. "Come back in for a minute and I'll give you some literature." Inside the showroom the sun strikes the paper banner and makes the letters TI TOD EW show through. Stavros is nowhere to be seen. Harry hands the boy his CHIEF card and asks him to sign the customer register.
"Like I said-'the boy begins.
Harry has lost patience with this escapade. "It doesn't commit you to a blessed thing," he says. "Toyota'll send you a Christmas card is all it means. I'll do it for you. First name James ??"
"Nunemacher," the boy says warily247, and spells it. "R. D. number two, Galilee."
Harry's handwriting has deteriorated248 over the years, gained a twitch at the end of his long arm, which yet is not long enough for him to see clearly what he writes. He owns reading glasses but it is his vanity never to wear them in public. "Done," he says, and all too casually249 turns to the girl. "O.K. young lady, how about you? Same name?"
"No way," she says, and giggles251. "You don't want me."
A boldness sparks in the cool flat eyes. In that way of women she has gone all circles, silly, elusive252. When her gaze levels there is something sexy in the fit of her lower lids, and the shadow of insufficient253 sleep below them. Her nose is slightly snub. "Jamie's our neighbor, I just came along for the ride. I was going to look for a sundress at Kroll's if there was time."
Something buried far back glints toward the light. Today's slant of sun has reached the shelf where the trophies Springer Motors sponsors wait to be awarded; oval embossments on their weightless white?metal surfaces shine. Keep your name, you little cunt, it's still a free country. But he has given her his. She has taken his card from Jamie's broad red hand and her eyes, childishly alight, slip from its lettering to his face to the section of far wall where his old headlines hang yellowing, toasted brown by time. She asks him, "Were you ever a famous basketball player?"
The question is not so easy to answer, it was so long ago. He tells her, "In the dark ages. Why do you ask, you've heard the name?"
"Oh no," this visitant from lost time gaily254 lies. "You just have that look."
When they have gone, the Country Squire swaying off on its soupy shocks, Harry uses the toilet down past Mildred Kroust's door along the corridor half of frosted glass and meets Charlie coming back from locking up. Still, there is pilferage255, mysterious discrepancies256 eating into the percentages. Money is like water in a leaky bucket: no sooner there, it begins to drip. "Whajja think of the girl?" Harry asks the other man, back in the showroom.
"With these eyes, I don't see the girls anymore. If I saw 'em, with my condition I couldn't do anything about it. She looked big and dumb. A lot of leg."
"Not so dumb as that hick she was with," Harry says. "God when you see what some girls are getting into it makes you want to cry."
Stavros's dark dabs of eyebrows lift. "Yeah? Some could say it was the other way around." He sits down to business at his desk. "Manny get to talk to you about that Torino you took on trade?"
Manny is head of Service, a short stooping man with black pores on his nose, as if with that nose he burrows257 through each day's dirty work. Of course he resents Harry, who thanks to his marriage to Springer's daughter skates around in the sun of the showroom and accepts clunky Torinos on trade?in. "He told me the front end's out of alignment258."
"Now he thinks in good conscience it should have a valve job. He also thinks the owner turned back the odometer."
"What could I do, the guy had the book right in his hand, I couldn't give him less than book value. If I don't give 'em book value Diefendorfer or Pike Porsche sure as hell will."
"You should have let Manny check it out, he could have told at a glance it had been in a collision. And if he spotted259 the odometer monkey business put the jerk on the defensive260."
"Can't he weight the front wheels enough to hide the shimmy?"
Stavros squares his hands patiently on the olive?green top of his desk. "It's a question of good will. The customer you unload that Torino on will never be back, I promise you."
"Then what's your advice?"
Charlie says, "Discount it over to Ford in Pottsville. You had a cushion of nine hundred on that sale and can afford to give away two rather than get Manny's back up. He has to mark up his parts to protect his own department and when they're Ford parts you're carrying a mark?up already. Pottsville'll put a coat of wax on it and make some kid happy for the summer."
"Sounds good." Rabbit wants to be outdoors, moving through the evening air, dreaming of his daughter. "If I had my way," he tells Charlie, "we'd wholesale the American makes out of here as fast as they come in. Nobody wants 'em except the blacks and the spics, and even they got to wake up some day."
Charlie doesn't agree. "You can still do well in used, ifyou pick your spots. Fred used to say every car has a buyer somewhere, but you shouldn't allow more on any trade?in than you'd pay cash for that car. It is cash, you know. Numbers are cash, even if you don't handle any lettuce261." He tips back his chair, letting his palms screech262 with friction263 on the desktop264. "When I first went to work for Fred Springer in '63 we sold nothing but second?hand American models, you never saw a foreign car this far in from the coast. The cars would come in off the street and we'd paint 'em and give 'em a tune?up and no manufacturer told us what price to attach, we'd put the price on the windshield in shaving cream and wipe it off and try another if it didn't move inside a week. No import duty, no currency devaluation; it was good clean dog eat dog."
Reminiscence. Sad to see it rotting Charlie's brain. Harry waits respectfully for the mood to subside265, then asks as if out of the blue, "Charlie, if I had a daughter, what d'you think she'd look like?"
"Ugly," Stavros says. "She'd look like Bugs266 Bunny."
"It'd be fun to have a daughter, wouldn't it?"
"Doubt it." Charlie lifts his palms so the legs of his chair slap to the floor. "What d'you hear from Nelson?"
Harry turns vehement267. "Nothing much, thank God," he says. "The kid never writes. Last we heard he was spending the summer out in Colorado with this girl he's picked up." Nelson attends college at Kent State, in Ohio, off and on, and has a year's worth of credits still to go before he graduates, though the boy was twentytwo last October.
"What kind of girl?"
"Lordy knows, I can't keep track. Each one is weirder269 than the last. One had been a teen?age alcoholic270. Another told fortunes from playing cards. I think that same one was a vegetarian271, but it may have been somebody else. I think he picks 'em to frustrate272 'me."
"Don't give up on the kid. He's all you've got."
"Jesus, what a thought."
"You just go ahead. I want to finish up here. I'll lock up."
"O.K., I'll go see what Janice has burned for supper. Want to come take pot luck? She'd be tickled273 to see you."
"Thanks, but Manna mou expects me." His mother, getting decrepit274 herself, lives with Charlie now, in his place on Eisenhower Avenue, and this is another bond between them, since Harry lives with his mother?in?law.
"O.K. Take care, Charlie. See you in Monday's wash."
"Take care, champ."
The day is still golden outside, old gold now in Harry's lengthening275 life. He has seen summer come and go until its fading is one in his heart with its coming, though he cannot yet name the weeds that flower each in its turn through the season, or the insects that also in ordained276 sequence appear, eat, and perish. He knows that in June school ends and the playgrounds open, and the grass needs cutting again and again if one is a man, and if one is a child games can be played outdoors while the supper dishes tinkle277 in the mellow278 parental279 kitchens, and the moon is discovered looking over your shoulder out of a sky still blue, and a silver blob of milkweed spittle has appeared mysteriously on your knee. Good luck. Car sales peak in June: for a three?hundred?car?a?year dealer like Harry this means upwards280 of twenty?five units, with twenty?one accounted for already and six selling days to go. Average eight hundred gross profit times twenty?five equals twenty grand minus the twenty?five per cent they estimate for salesmen's compensation both salary and incentives281 leaves fifteen grand minus between eight and ten for other salaries those cute little cunts come and go in billing one called Cissy a Polack a few years ago they got as far as rubbing fannies easing by in that corridor and the rent that Springer Motors pays itself old man Springer didn't believe in owning anything the banks could own but even he had to pay off the mortgage eventually boy the rates now must kill anybody starting up and the financing double?digit282 interest Brewer Trust been doing it for years and against the twelve per cent you got to figure the two or three per cent that comes back as loss reserves nobody likes to call it kick?back and the IRS calls it taxable earnings283 and the upkeep the electricity that Sun 2001 Diagnostic Computer Manny wants would use a lot ofjuice and the power tools they can't even turn a nut on a wheel anymore it has to be pneumatic rrrrrrt and the heat thank God a few months' reprieve284 from that the fucking Arabs are killing285 us and the men won't wear sweaters under the coveralls the young mechanics are the worst they say they lose feeling in their fingertips and health insurance there's another killer287 up and up the hospitals keeping people alive that are really dead like some game they're playing at Medicaid's expense and the advertising288 he often wonders how much good it does a rule of thumb he read somewhere is one and a half per cent of gross sales but if you look at the Auto173 Sales page of the Sunday paper you never saw such a jumble289 just the quiet listing of the prices and the shadow of the dealer like old man Springer said the man he gets known to be at Rotary and in the downtown restaurants and the country club really he should be allowed to take all that off as business expenses the four seventy?five a week he pays himself doesn't take into account the suits to make himself presentable he has to buy three or four a year and not at Kroll's anymore he doesn't like that salesman who measured his fat waist Webb Murkett knows of a little shop on Pine Street that's as good as hand tailoring and then the property taxes and the kids keep throwing stones or shooting BBs at the glass signs outside we ought to go back to wood grouted wood but national Toyota has its specifications290, where was he, let's say nine total monthly expenses variable and invariable that leaves four net profit and deduct291 another thousand from that for inflation and pilferage and the unpredictable that's always there you still have three, fifteen hundred for Ma Springer and fifteen hundred for Janice and him plus the two thousand salary when his poor dead dad used to go off to the print shop at quarter after seven every morning for forty dollars a week and that wasn't considered bad money then. Harry wonders what his father would think if he could only see him now, rich.
His 1978 Luxury Edition liftback five?door Corona is parked in its space. Called Red Metallic292, it is a color more toward brown, like tired tomato soup. If the Japanese have a weakness it is their color sense: their Copper293 Metallic to Harry's eyes is a creosote brown, the Mint Green Metallic something like what he imagines cyanide to be, and what they called Beige a plain lemon yellow. In the war there used to be all these cartoons showing the Japanese wearing thick glasses and he wonders if it can be true, they don't see too well, all their colors falling in between the stripes of the rainbow. Still, his Corona is a snug294 machine. Solid big?car feel, padded tilt295 steering wheel, lumbar support lever for adjustable296 driver comfort, factory?installed AM/FM/MPX four?speaker radio. The radio is what he enjoys, gliding297 through Brewer with the windows up and locked and the power?boosted ventilation flowing through and the four corners of the car dinging out disco music as from the four corners of the mind's ballroom298. Peppy and gentle, the music reminds Rabbit of the music played on radios when he was in high school, "How High the Moon" with the clarinet breaking away, the licorice stick they used to call it, "Puttin' on the Ritz": city music, not like that country music of the Sixties that tried to take us back and make us better than we are. Black girls with tinny chiming voices chant nonsense words above a throbbing299 electrified300 beat and he likes that, the thought of those black girls out of Detroit probably, their boyfriends goofing302 off on the assembly line, in shimmery303 tinsel dresses throbbing one color after another as the disco lights spin. He and Janice ought to visit at least the place down Route 111 D I S C O he noticed today for the hundredth time, never dared go in. In his mind he tries to put Janice and the colored girls and the spinning lights all together and they fly apart. He thinks of Skeeter. Ten years ago this small black man came and lived with him and Nelson for a crazy destructive time. Now Skeeter is dead, he learned just this April. Someone anonymous304 sent him, in a long stamped envelope such as anybody can buy at the post office, addressed in neat block ballpoint printing such as an accountant or a schoolteacher might use, a clipping in the familiar type of the Brewer Vat144, where Harry had been a Linotyper until Linotypmg became obsolete306:
FORMER RESIDENT
SLAIN307 IN PHILLY
Hubert Johnson, formerly308 of Brewer, died of gunshot wounds in General Municipal Hospital, Philadelphia, after an alleged309 shoot?out with police officers.
Johnson was purported310 to have fired the first shots without provocation311 upon officers investigating reported violations312 of sanitation313 and housing laws in a religious commune supposedly headed by Johnson, whose Messiah Now Freedom Family included a number of black families and young persons.
Numerous complaints had been occasioned among neighbors by their late singing and abrasive314 behavior. The Messiah Now Freedom Family was located on Columbia Avenue.
Johnson Wanted
Johnson, last of Plum Street, city, was remembered locally as "Skeeter" and also went under the name of Farasworth. He was wanted here under several complaints, local officials confirmed.
Philadelphia police lieutenant315 Roman Surpitski informed reporters that he and his men had no choice but to return fire upon Johnson. Fortunately, no officers and no other "commune" members suffered wounds in the exchange.
The office of outgoing Mayor Frank Rizzo declined to comment upon the incident. "We don't come up against as many of these crazies as we used to," Lieutenant Surpitski volunteered.
The clipping had been accompanied by no note. Yet the sender must have known him, known something of his past, and be watching him, as the dead supposedly do. Creepy. Skeeter dead, a certain light was withdrawn316 from the world, a daring, a promise that all would be overturned. Skeeter had foretold318 this, his death young. Harry last had seen him heading across a field of corn stubble, among crows gleaning319. But that had been so long ago the paper in his hand this last April felt little different from any other news item or from those sports clippings hanging framed in his showroom, about himself. Your selves die too. That part of him subject to Skeeter's spell had shrivelled and been overlaid. In his life he had known up close no other black people and in truth had been beyond all fear and discomfort320 flattered by the attentions of this hostile stranger descended321 like an angel; Harry felt he was seen by this furious man anew, as with X?rays. Yet he was surely a madman and his demands inordinate322 and endless and with him dead Rabbit feels safer.
As he sits snug in his sealed and well?assembled car the venerable city of Brewer unrolls like a silent sideways movie past his closed windows. He follows 111 along the river to West Brewer, where once he lived with Skeeter, and then cuts over the Weiser Street Bridge renamed after some dead mayor whose name nobody ever uses and then, to avoid the pedestrian mall with fountains and birch trees the city planners put in the broadest two blocks of Weiser to renew the downtown supposedly (the joke was, they planted twice as many trees as they needed, figuring half would die, but in fact almost all of them thrived, so they have a kind of forest in the center of town, where a number of muggings have taken place and the winos and junkies sleep it off), Harry cuts left on Third Street and through some semi?residential324 blocks of mostly ophthalmologists' offices to the diagonal main drag called Eisenhower, through the sector325 of old factories and railroad yards. Railroads and coal made Brewer. Everywhere in this city, once the fifth largest in Pennsylvania but now slipped to seventh, structures speak of expended326 energy. Great shapely stacks that have not issued smoke for half a century. Scrolling327 cast?iron light stanchions not lit since World War II. The lower blocks of Weiser given over to the sale of the cut?rate and the X?rated and the only new emporium a big windowless enlargement in white brick of Schoenbaum Funeral Directors. The old textile plants given over to discount clothing outlets teeming328 with a gimcrack cheer of banners FACTORY FAIR and slogans Where the Dollar Is Still a Dollar. These acres of dead railroad track and car shops and stockpiled wheels and empty boxcars stick in the heart of the city like a great rusting329 dagger330. All this had been cast up in the last century by what now seem giants, in an explosion of iron and brick still preserved intact in this city where the sole new buildings are funeral parlors332 and government offices, Unemployment and join the Army.
Beyond the car yards and the underpass at Seventh that had been flooded last night, Eisenhower Avenue climbs steeply through tight?built neighborhoods of row houses built solid by German workingmen's savings and loans associations, only the fanlights of stained glass immune to the later layers of aluminum awning333 and Permastone siding, the Polacks and Italians being squeezed out by the blacks and Hispanics that in Harry's youth were held to the low blocks down by the river. Dark youths thinking in languages of their own stare from the triangular334 stone porches of the old corner grocery stores.
The vanished white giants as they filled Brewer into its grid335 named these higher streets that Eisenhower crosses for fruits and the seasons of the year: Winter, Spring, Summer, but no Fall Street. For three months twenty years ago Rabbit lived on Summer with a woman, Ruth Leonard. There he fathered the girl he saw today, if that was his daughter. There is no getting away; our sins, our seed, coil back. The disco music shifts to the Bee Gees336, white men who have done this wonderful thing of making themselves sound like black women. "Stayin' Alive" comes on with all that amplified337 throbbleo and a strange nasal whining338 underneath: the John Travolta theme song. Rabbit still thinks of him as one of the Sweathogs from Mr. Kotter's class but for a while back there last summer the U.S.A. was one hundred per cent his, every twat under fifteen wanting to be humped by a former Sweathog in the back seat of a car parked in Brooklyn. He thinks of his own daughter getting into the back seat of the Corolla, bare leg up to her ass. He wonders if her pubic hair is ginger342 in color like her mother's was. That curve where a tender entire woman seems an inch away around a kind of corner, where no ugly penis hangs like sausage on the rack, blue?veined. Her eyes his blue: wonderful to think that he has been turned into cunt, a secret message carried by genes345 all that way through all these comings and goings all these years, the bloody346 tunnel of growing and living, of staying alive. He better stop thinking about it, it fills him too full of pointless excitement. Some music does that.
Some car with double headlights, a yellow LeMans with that big vertical347 bar in the middle of the grille, is riding his tail so close he eases over behind a parked car and lets the bastard83 by: a young blonde with a tipped?up tiny profile is driving. How often that seems to be the case these days, some pushy348 road?hog339 you hate turns out to be a little girl at the wheel, who must be somebody's daughter and from the lackadaisical349 glassy look on her face has no idea ofbeing rude, just wants to get there. When Rabbit first began to drive the road was full of old fogeys going too slow and now it seems nothing but kids in a hell of a hurry, pushing. Let 'em by, is his motto. Maybe they'll kill themselves on a telephone pole in the next mile. He hopes so.
His route takes him up into the area of the stately Brewer High School, called the Castle, built in 1933, the year of his birth is how he remembers. They wouldn't build it now, no faith in education, indeed they say with zero growth rate approaching there aren't enough students to fill the schools now, they are closing a lot of the elementary schools down. Up this high the city builders had run out of seasons and went to tree names. Locust350 Boulevard east of the Castle is lined with houses with lawns all around, though the strips between are narrow and dark and rhododendrons die for lack of sun. The better?off live' up here, the bone surgeons and legal eagles and middle management of the plants that never had the wit to go south or have come in since. When Locust begins to curve through the municipal park its name changes to Cityview Drive, though with all the trees that have grown up in time there isn't much view left; Brewer can be seen all spread out really only from the Pinnacle351 Hotel, now a site of vandalism and terror where once there had been dancing and necking. Something about spics they don't like to see white kids making out, they surround the car and smash the windshield with rocks and slit352 the clothes off the girl while roughing up the boy. What a world to grow up in, especially for a girl. He and Ruth walked up to the Pinnacle once or twice. The railroad tie steps probably rotted now. She took off her shoes because the high heels dug into the gravel353 between the railroad ties, he remembers her city?pale feet lifting ahead of him under his eyes, naked just for him it seemed. People satisfied with less then. In the park a World War II tank, made into a monument, points its guns at tennis courts where the nets, even the ones made of playground fencing, keep getting ripped away. The strength these kids use, just to destroy. Was he that way at that age? You want to make a mark. The world seems indestructible and won't let you out. Let 'em by.
There is a stoplight and, turning left, Harry passes between houses gabled and turreted354 the way they did early in the century when men wore straw hats and made ice cream by hand and rode bicycles, and then there is a shopping center, where a four?theater movie complex advertises on its sign high up where vandals can't reach it to steal letters ALIEN MOONRAKER MAIN EVENT ESCAPE FROM ALCATRAZ. None of them does he want to see though he likes the way Streisand's hair frizzes up and that Jewish nose, not just the nose, there is Jewishness in the thrust of her voice that thrills him, must have to do with being the chosen people, they do seem more at home here on Earth, the few he knows, more full of bounce. Funny about Streisand, if she isn't matched up with an Egyptian like Sharif it's with a super Waspy?looking type like Ryan O'Neal; same thing with Woody Allen, nothing Jewish about Diane Keaton, though her hair does frizz come to think of it.
The music stops, the news comes on. A young female voice reads it, with a twang like she knows she's wasting our time. Fuel, truckers. Three?Mile Island investigations356 continue. Date for Skylab fall has been revised. Somoza in trouble too. Stay of execution of convicted Florida killer denied. Former leader of Great Britain's Liberal Party acquitted357 of charges of conspiring358 to murder his former homosexual lover. This annoys Rabbit, but his indignation at this pompous359 pansy's getting off scot?free dissolves in his curiosity about the next criminal case on the news, this of a Baltimore physician who was charged with murdering a Canada goose with a golf club. The defendant360 claims, the disinterested361 female voice twangs on, that he had accidentally struck the goose with a golf ball and then had dispatched the wounded creature with a club to end its misery362. The voice concludes, "A mercy killing, or murder most foul363?" He laughs aloud, in the car, alone. He'll have to try to remember that, to tell the gang at the club tomorrow. Tomorrow will be a sunny day, the woman reassures him, giving the weather. "And now, the Number One Hit coast to coast, `Hot Stuff,' by the Queen of Disco, Donna Summer!"
Sittin' here eatin' my heart out waitin'
Waitin' for some lover to call ....
Rabbit likes the chorus where the girls in the background chime in, you can picture them standing around some steamy city corner chewing gum and who knows what else:
Hot stuff
I need hot stuff
I want some hot stuf
I need hot stuuuuufft?
Still he liked Donna Summer best in the days when she was doing those records of a woman breathing and panting and sighing like she was coming. Maybe it wasn't her, just some other slim black chick. But he thinks it was her.
The road takes on a number, 422, and curves around the shoulders of Mt. Judge, with a steep drop on the right side and a view of the viaduct that once brought water to the city from the north of the county across the black breadth of the Running Horse River. Two gas stations mark the beginning of the borough364 of Mt. Judge; instead of keeping on 422 toward Philadelphia Harry steers365 his Corona off the highway onto Central by the granite366 Baptist church and then obliquely367 up Jackson Street and after three blocks right onto Joseph. If he stays on Jackson two more blocks he will pass his old house, one number in from the corner of Maple, but since Pop passed on, after holding on without Mom for a couple ofyears, doing all the yardwork and vacuuming and meals by himself until his emphysema just got too bad and you'd find him sitting in a chair all curled over like a hand sheltering a guttering369 candle?flame from the wind, Rabbit rarely drives by: the people he and Mim had sold it to had painted the wood trim an awful grape color and hung an ultraviolet plant light in the big front window. Like these young couples in Brewer who think anything goes on a row house, however cute, and they're doing the world a favor by taking it on. Harry hadn't liked the guy's accent, haircut, or leisure suit; he had liked the price he had paid, though: fiftyeight thousand for a place that had cost Mom and Pop forty?two hundred in 1935. It made a nice bundle even with Mim taking her half with her back out to Nevada and the real?estate agents' and lawyers' fees, they just step in everywhere where money's changing hands. He had begged Janice at the time to use the twenty grand to buy a new house, just for them, maybe over in Penn Park in West Brewer, five minutes from the lot. But no, Janice didn't think they should desert Mother: the Springers had taken them in when they had no house, their own house had burned, and their marriage had hit rock bottom and what with Harry being promised to head up new car sales at about the time Pop died and Nelson having had so many shocks already in his life and so many bad aftereffects still smoldering370 at that end of Brewer, the inquest for Jill and a police investigation355 and her parents thinking of suing all the way from Connecticut and the insurance company taking forever to come through with the claim because there were suspicious circumstances and poor Peggy Fosnacht having to swear Harry had been with her and so couldn't have set it himself, what with all this it seemed better to lie low, to hide behind the Springer name in the big stucco house, and the weeks had become months and the months years without the young Angstroms going into another place of their own, and then with Fred dying so suddenly and Nelson going off to college there seemed more room and less reason than ever to move. The house, 89 Joseph, always reminds Harry under its spreading trees with its thready lawn all around of the witch's house made out of candy, penuche for the walls and licorice Necco wafers for the thick slate371 roof. Though the place looks big outside the downstairs is crammed372 with furniture come down through Ma Springer's people the Koemers and the shades are always half drawn317; except for the screened?in back porch and the little upstairs room that had been Janice's when she was a girl and then Nelson's for those five years before he went away to Kent, there isn't a corner of the Springer house where Harry feels able to breathe absolutely his own air.
He circles around into the alley373 of bluestone grit374 and puts the Corona into the garage beside the '74 navy?blue Chrysler Newport that Fred got the old lady for her birthday the year before he died and that she drives around town with both hands tight on the wheel, with the look on her face as if a bomb might go off under the hood. Janice always keeps her Mustang convertible375 parked out front by the curb376, where the maple drippings can ruin the top faster. When the weather gets warm she leaves the top down for .nights at a time so the seats are always sticky. Rabbit swings down the overhead garage door and carries up the cement walk through the back yard like twin car headlights into a tunnel his strange consciousness of having not one child now but two.
Janice greets him in the kitchen. Something's up. She is wearing a crisp frock with pepperminty378 stripes but her hair is still scraggly and damp from an afternoon of swimming at the club pool. Nearly every day she has a tennis date with some of her girlfriends at the club they belong to, the Flying Eagle Tee and Racquet, a newish organization laid out on the lower slopes of Mt. Judge's woodsy brother mountain with the Indian name, Mt. Pemaquid, and then kills the rest of the afternoon lying at poolside gossiping or playing cards and getting slowly spaced on Spritzers or vodkaand?tonics379. Harry likes having a wife who can be at the club so much. Janice is thickening through the middle at the age of fortythree but her legs are still hard and neat. And brown. She was always dark?complected and with July not even here she has the tan of a savage380, legs and arms almost black like some little Polynesian in an old Jon Hall movie. Her lower lip bears a trace of zinc381 oxide382, which is sexy, even though he never loved that stubborn slothke set her mouth gets. Her still?wet hair pulled back reveals a high forehead somewhat mottled, like brown paper where water has been dropped and dried. He can tell by the kind of heat she is giving off that she and her mother have been fighting. "What's up now?" he asks.
"It's been wild," Janice says. "She's in her room and says we should eat without her."
"Yeah well, she'll be down. But what's to eat? I don't see anything cooking." The digital clock built into the stove says 6:32.
"Harry. Honest to God I was going to shop as soon as I came back and changed out of tennis things but then this postcard was here and Mother and I have been at it ever since. Anyway it's summer, you don't want to eat too much. Doris Kaufmann, I'd give anything to have her serve, she says she never has more than a glass of iced tea for lunch, even in the middle of winter. I thought maybe soup and those cold cuts I bought that you and Mother refuse to touch, they have to be eaten sometime. And the lettuce is coming on in the garden now so fast we must start having salads before it gets all leggy." She had planted a little vegetable garden in the part of the back yard where Nelson's swing set used to be, getting a man from down the block to turn the earth with his Rototiller, the earth miraculously383 soft and pungent384 beneath the crust of winter and Janice out there enthusiastic with her string and rake in the gauzy shadows of the budding trees; but now that summer is here and the leafed?out trees keep the garden in the shade and the games at the club have begun she has let the plot go to weeds.
Still, he cannot dislike this brown?eyed woman who has been his indifferent wife for twenty?three years this past March. He is rich because of her inheritance and this mutual385 knowledge rests adhesively386 between them like a form of sex, comfortable and sly. "Salad and baloney, my favorite meal," he says, resigned. "Lemme have a drink first. Some window?shoppers came in to the lot today just as I was leaving. Tell me what postcard."
As he stands by the refrigerator making a gin?and?bitter?lemon, knowing these sugary mixers add to the calories in the alcohol and help to keep him overweight but figuring that this Saturday evening meal in its skimpiness will compensate387 and maybe he'll jog a little afterwards, Janice goes in through the dark dining room into the musty front parlor331 where the shades are drawn and Ma Springer's sulking spirit reigns388, and brings back a postcard. It shows a white slope of snow under a stark389 blue wedge of sky; two small dark hunched390 figures are tracing linked S's on the slanted392 snow, skiing. GREETINGS FROM COLORADO red cartoon letters say across the sky that looks like blue paint. On the opposite side a familiar scrawled393 hand, scrunched394 as if something in the boy had been squeezed too tight while his handwriting was coming to birth, spells out:
Hi Mom & Dad & Grandmom:
These mts. make Mt. Judge look sick! No snow tho, just plenty of grass (joke). Been learning to hang glide221. Job didn't work out, guy was a bum206. Penna. beckons395. OK if I bring Melanie home too? She could get job and be no troble. Love,
Nelson
"Melanie?" Harry asks.
"That's what Mother and I have been fighting about. She doesn't want the girl staying here."
"Is this the same girl he went out there with two weeks ago?"
"I was wondering," Janice says. "She had a name more like Sue or Jo or something."
"Where would she sleep?"
"Well, either in that front sewing room or Nelson's room."
"With the kid?"
"Well really, Harry, I wouldn't be utterly396 surprised. He is twenty?two. When have you gotten so Puritanical397?"
"I'm not being Puritanical, just practical. It's one thing to have these kids go off into the blue and go hang gliding or whatever else and another to have them bring all their dope and little tootsies back to the nest. This house is awkward upstairs, you know that. There's too much hall space and you can't sneeze or fart or fuck without everybody else hearing; it's been bliss398, frankly, with just us and Ma. Remember the kid's radio all through high school to two in the morning, how he'd fall asleep to it? That bed of his is a little single, what are we supposed to do, buy him and Melody a double bed?"
"Melanie. I don't know, she can sleep on the floor. They all have sleeping bags. You can try putting her in the sewing room but I know she won't stay there. We wouldn't have." Her blurred399 dark eyes gaze beyond him into time. "We spent all our energy sneaking400 down hallways and squirming around in the back seats of cars and I thought we could spare our children that."
"We have a child, not children," he says coldly, as the gin expands his inner space. They had children once, but their infant daughter Becky died. It was his wife's fault. The entire squeezed and cut?down shape of his life is her fault; at every turn she has been a wall to his freedom. "Listen," he says to her, "I've been trying to get out of this fucking depressing house for years and I don't want this shiftless arrogant401 goof301?off we've raised coming back and pinning me in. These kids seem to think the world exists to serve them but I'm sick of just standing around waiting to be of service."
Janice stands up to him scarcely flinching402, armored in her country?club tan. "He is our son, Harry, and we're not going to turn away a guest of his because she is female in sex. If it was a boyfriend of Nelson's you wouldn't be at all this excited, it's the fact that it's a girlfriend of Nelson's that's upsetting you, a girlfriend of Nelson's. If it was a girlfriend of yours, the upstairs wouldn't be too crowded for you to fart in. This is my son and I want him here if he wants to be here."
"I don't have any girlfriends," he protests. It sounds pitiful. Is Janice saying he should have? Women, once sex gets out in the open, they become monsters. You're a creep ifyou fuck them and a creep if you don't. Harry strides into the dining room, making the glass panes210 of the antique breakfront shudder403, and calls up the dark stained stairs that are opposite the breakfront, "Hey Bessie, come on down! I'm on your side!"
There is a silence as from God above and then the creak of a bed being relieved of a weight, and reluctant footsteps slither across the ceiling toward the head of the stairs. Mrs. Springer on her painful dropsical legs comes down talking: "This house is legally mine and that girl is not spending one night under a roof Janice's father slaved all his days to keep over our heads."
The breakfront quivers again; Janice has come into the dining room. She says in a voice tightened to match her mother's, "Mother, you wouldn't be keeping this enormous roof over your head if it weren't for Harry and me sharing the upkeep. It's a great sacrifice on Harry's part, a man of his income not having a house he can call his own, and you have no right to forbid Nelson to come home when he wants to, no right, Mother."
The plump old lady groans404 her way down to the landing three steps shy of the dining?room floor and hesitates there saying, in a voice tears have stained, "Nellie I'm happy to see whenever he deems fit, I love that boy with all my soul even though he hasn't turned out the way his grandfather and I had hoped."
Janice says, angrier in proportion as the old lady makes herself look pathetic, "You're always bringing Daddy in when he can't speak for himself but as long as he was alive he was very hospitable405 and tolerant of Nelson and his friends. I remember that cookout Nelson had in the back yard for his high?school graduation when Daddy had had his first stroke already, I went upstairs to see if it was getting too rowdy for him and he said with his wry406 little smile" ?tears now stain her own voice too ? " `The sound of young voices does my old heart good."'
That slippery?quick salesman's smile of his, Rabbit can see it still. Like a switchblade without the click.
"A cookout in the back yard is one thing," Mrs. Springer says, thumping408 herself in her dirty aqua sneakers down the last three steps of the stairs and looking her daughter level in the eye. "A slut in the boy's bed is another."
Harry thinks this is pretty jazzy for an old lady and laughs aloud. Janice and her mother are both short women; like two doll's heads mounted on the same set of levers they turn identically chocolateeyed, slot?mouthed faces to glare at his laugh. "We don't know the girl is a slut," Harry apologizes. "All we know is her name is Melanie instead of Sue."
"You said you were on my side," Mrs. Springer says.
"I am, Ma, I am. I don't see why the kid has to come storming home; we gave him enough money to get him started out there, I'd? like to see him get some kind of grip on the world. He's not going to get it hanging around here all summer."
"Oh, money," Janice says. "That's all you ever think about. And what have you ever done except hang around here? Your father got you one job and my father got you another, I don't call that any great adventure."
"That's not all I think about," he begins lamely409, of money, before his mother?in?law interrupts.
"Harry doesn't want a home of his own," Ma Springer tells her daughter. When she gets excited and fearful of not making herself understood her face puffs410 up and goes mottled. "He has such disagreeable associations from the last time you two went out on your own."
Janice is firm, younger, in control. "Mother, you know nothing about it. You know nothing about life period. You sit in this house and watch idiotic411 game shows and talk on the phone to what friends you have that are still alive and then sit in judgment412 on Harry and me. You know nothing of life now. You have no idea."
"As if playing games at a country club with the nickel rich and coming home tiddled every night is enough to make you wise," the old lady comes back, holding on with one hand to the knob of the newel post as if to ease the pain in her ankles. "You come home," she goes on, "too silly to make your husband a decent supper and then want to bring this tramp into a house where I do all the housekeeping, even if I can scarcely stand to stand. I'm the one that would be here with them, you'd be off in that convertible. What will the neighbors make of it? What about the people in the church?"
"I don't care even if they care, which I dare say they won't," Janice says. "And to bring the church into it is ridiculous. The last minister at St. John's ran off with Mrs. Eckenroth and this one now is so gay I wouldn't let my boy go to his Sunday school, if I had a boy that age."
"Nellie didn't go that much anyway," Harry recalls. "He said it gave him headaches." He wants to lower the heat between the two women before it boils over into grief. He sees he must break this up, get a house of his own, before he runs out of gas. Stone outside, exposed beams inside, and a sunken living room: that is his dream.
"Melanie," his mother?in?law is saying, "what kind of name is that? It sounds colored."
"Oh Mother, don't drag out all your prejudices. You sit and giggle250 at the Jeffersons as if you're one of them and Harry and Charlie unload all their old gas?hogs340 on the blacks and if we take their money we can take what else they have to offer too."
Can Melanie actually be black? Harry is asking himself, thrilled. Little cocoa babies. Skeeter would be so pleased.
"Anyway," Janice is going on, looking frazzled suddenly, "nobody's said the girl is black, all we know is she hang glides413."
"Or is that the other one?" Harry asks.
"If she comes, I go," Bessie Springer says. "Grace Stuhl has all those empty rooms now that Ralph's passed on and she's more than once said we should team up."
"Mother, I find that humiliating, that you've been begging Grace Stuhl to take you in."
"I haven't been begging, the thought just naturally occurred to the both of us. I'd expect to be bought out here, though, and the values in the neighborhood have been going way up since they banned the through truck traffic."
"Mother. Harry hates this house."
He says, still hoping to calm these waters, "I don't hate it, exactly; I just think the space upstairs -"
"Harry," Janice says. "Why don't you go out and pick some lettuce from the garden like we said? Then we'll eat."
Gladly. He is glad to escape the house, the pinch of the women, their heat. Crazy the way they flog at each other with these ghosts of men, Daddy dead, Nelson gone, and even Harry himself a kind of ghost in the way they talk of him as if he wasn't standing right there. Day after day, mother and daughter sharing that same house, it's not natural. Like water blood must run or grow a scum. Old lady Springer always plump with that sausage look to her wrists and ankles but now her face puffy as well like those movie stars whose cheeks they stuff cotton up into to show them getting older. Her face not just plumper but wider as if a screw turning inside is spreading the sides of her skull apart, her eyes getting smaller, Janice heading the same way though she tries to keep trim, there's no stopping heredity. Rabbit notices now his own father talking in his own brain sometimes when he gets tired.
Bitter lemon fading in his mouth, an aluminum colander414 pleasantly light in his hand, he goes down the brick back steps into grateful space. He feels the neighborhood filter through to him and the voices in his brain grow still. Dark green around him is damp with coming evening, though this long day's lingering brightness surprises his eye above the shadowy masses of the trees. Rooftops and dormers notch415 the blue as it begins to blush brown; here also electric wires and television aerials mar14 with their scratches the soft beyond, a few swallows dipping as they do at day's end in the middle range of air above the merged417 back yards, where little more than a wire fence or a line of hollyhocks marks the divisions of property. When he listens he can hear the sounds of cooking clatter418 or late play, alive in this common realm with a dog's bark, a bird's weep weep, the rhythmic419 far tapping of a hammer. A crew of butch women has moved in a few houses down and they're always out in steel?toed boots and overalls286 with ladders and hammers fixing things, they can do it all, from rain gutters420 to cellar doors: terrific. He sometimes waves to them when he jogs by in twilight421 but they don't have much to say to him, a creature of another species.
Rabbit swings open the imperfect little gate he constructed two springs ago and enters the fenced rectangle of silent vegetable presences. The lettuce flourishes between a row of bean plants whose leaves are badly bug175?eaten and whose stems collapse423 at a touch and a row of feathery carrot tops all but lost in an invasion of plantain and chickweed and purselane and a pulpy424 weed with white?and?yellow flowers that grows inches every night. It is easy to pull, its roots let go docilely425, but there are so many he wearies within minutes of pulling and shaking the moist earth free from the roots and laying bundles of the weed along the chicken?wire fence as mulch and as barrier to the invading grasses. Grass that won't grow in the lawn where you plant it comes in here wild to multiply. Seed, so disgustingly much of it, Nature such a cruel smotherer. He thinks again of the dead he has known, the growingly many, and of the live child, if not his then some other father's, who visited him today with her long white legs propped426 up on cork heels, and of the other child, undoubtedly427 his, the genes show even in that quick scared way he looks at you, who has threatened to return. Rabbit pinches off the bigger lettuce leaves (but not the ones at the base so big as to be tough and bitter) and looks into his heart for welcome, welcoming love for his son. He finds instead a rumple128 of apprehensiveness428 in form and texture429 like a towel tumbled too soon from the dryer430. He finds a hundred memories, some vivid as photographs and meaningless, snapped by the mind for reasons of its own, and others mere facts, things he knows are true but has no snapshot for. Our lives fade behind us before we die. He changed the boy's diapers in the sad apartment high on Wilbur Street, he lived with him for some wild months in an apple?green ranch72 house called 26 Vista431 Crescent in Penn Villas433, and here at 89 Joseph he watched him become a high?school student with a wispy434 mustache that showed when he stood in the light, and a headband like an Indian's instead of getting a haircut, and a fortune in rock records kept in the sunny room whose drawn shades are above Harry's head now. He and Nelson have been through enough years together to turn a cedar435 post to rot and yet his son is less real to Harry than these crinkled leaves of lettuce he touches and plucks. Sad. Who says? The calm eyes of the girl who showed up at the lot today haunt the growing shadows, a mystery arrived at this time of his own numb96 life, death taking his measure with the invisible tapping of that neighborhood hammer: each day he is a little less afraid to die. He spots a Japanese beetle436 on a bean plant leaf and with a snap of his fingernail ? big fingernails, with conspicuous437 cuticle438 moons ? snaps the iridescent439 creature off: Die.
Back in the house, Janice exclaims, "You've picked enough for six of us!"
"Where'd Ma go?"
"She's in the front hall, on the telephone to Grace Stuhl. Really, she's impossible. I really think senility is setting in. Harry, what shall we do?"
"Ride with the punches?"
"Oh, great."
"Well honey it is her house, not ours and Nelson's."
"Oh, drop dead. You're no help." An illumination rises sluggishly440 within her sable172, gin?blurred eyes. "You don't want to be any help," she announces. "You just like to see us fight."
* * *
The evening passes in a stale crackle of television and suppressed resentment441. Waitin' for some lover to call .... Ma Springer, having condescended442 to share with them at the kitchen table some lumpy mushroom soup Janice has warmed and the cold cuts slightly sweaty from waiting too long in the refrigerator and all that salad he picked, stalks upstairs to her own room and shuts the door with a firmness that must carry out into the neighborhood as far as the butch women's house. A few cars, looking for hot stuff, prowl by on Joseph Street, with that wet?tire sound that makes Harry and Janice feel alone as on an island. For supper they opened a halfgallon of Gallo Chablis and Janice keeps drifting into the kitchen to top herself up, so that by ten o'clock she is lurching in that way he hates. He doesn't blame people for many sins but he does hate uncoórdination, the root of all evil as he feels it, for without coordination444 there can be no order, no connecting. In this state she bumps against doorframes coming through and sets her glass on the sofa arm so a big translucent445 lip of contents slops up and over into the fuzzy gray fabric446. Together they sit through Battlestar Galactica and enough of The Love Boat to know it's not one of the good cruises. When she gets up to fill her glass yet again he switches to the Phillies game. The Phillies are being held to one hit by the Expos, he can't believe it, all that power. On the news, there is rioting in Levittown over gasoline, people are throwing beer bottles full of gasoline; they explode, it looks like old films of Vietnam or Budapest but it is Levittown right down the road, north of Philadelphia. A striking trucker is shown holding up a sign saying To HELL WITH SHELL. And Three?Mile Island leaking radioactive neutrons447 just down the road in the other direction. The weather for tomorrow looks good, as a massive high continues to dominate from the Rocky Mountain region eastward448 all the way to Maine. Time for bed.
Harry knows in his bones, it has been borne in on him over the years, that on the nights of the days when Janice has fought with her mother and drunk too much she will want to make love. The first decade of their marriage, it was hard to get her to put out, there were a lot of things she wouldn't do and didn't even know were done and these seemed to be the things most on Rabbit's mind, but then with the affair with Charlie Stavros opening her up at about the time of the moon shot, and the style of the times proclaiming no holds barred, and for that matter death eating enough into her body for her to realize it wasn't such a precious vessel449 and there wasn't any superman to keep saving it for, Harry has no complaints. Indeed what complaints there might be in this line would come from her about him. Somewhere early in the Carter administration his interest, that had been pretty faithful, began to wobble and by now there is a real crisis of confidence. He blames it on money, on having enough at last, which has made him satisfied all over; also the money itself, relaxed in the bank, gets smaller in real value all the time, and this is on his mind, what to do about it, along with everything else: the Phils, and the dead, and golf. He has taken the game up with a passion since they joined the Flying Eagle, without getting much better at it, or at least without giving himself any happier impression of an absolute purity and power hidden within the coiling of his muscles than some lucky shots in those first casual games he played once did. It is like life itself in that its performance cannot be forced and its underlying450 principle shies from being permanently451 named. Arms like ropes, he tells himself sometimes, with considerable success, and then, when that goes bad, shift the weight. Or, Don't chicken?wing it, or, Keep the angle, meaning the angle between club and arms when wrists are cocked. Sometimes he thinks it's all in the hands, and then in the shoulders, and even in the knees. When it's in the knees he can't control it. Basketball was somehow more instinctive452. If you thought about merely walking down the street the way you think about golf you'd wind up falling off the curb. Yet a good straight drive or a soft chip stiff to the pin gives him the bliss that used to come thinking of some woman, imagining if only you and she were alone on a warm island.
Naked, Janice bumps against the doorframe from their bathroom back into their bedroom. Naked, she lurches onto the bed where he is trying to read the July issue of Consumer Reports and thrusts her tongue into his mouth. He tastes Gallo, baloney, and toothpaste while his mind is still trying to sort out the virtues453 and failings of the great range of can openers put to the test over five close pages of print. The Sunbeam units were most successful at opening rectangular and dented cans and yet pierced coffee cans with such force that grains of coffee spewed out onto the counter. Elsewhere, slivers454 of metal were dangerously produced, magnets gripped so strongly that the contents of the cans tended to spatter, blades failed to reach deep lips, and one small plastic insert so quickly wore away that the model (Ekco C865K) was judged Not Acceptable. Amid these fine discriminations Janice's tongue like an eyeless eager eel16 intrudes455 and angers him. Ever since in her late thirties she had her tubes burned to avoid any more bad side effects from the Pill, a demon196 ofloss (never any more children never ever) has given her sexuality a false animation456, a thrust somehow awry457. Her eyes as her face backs off from the kiss he has resisted, squirming, have in them no essential recognition of him, only a glaze458 of liquor and blank unfriendly wanting. By the light by which he had been trying to read he sees the hateful aged459 flesh at the base of her throat, reddish and tense as if healed from a bum. He wouldn't see it so clearly if he didn't have his reading glasses on. "Jesus," he says, "at least let's wait till I turn out the light."
"I like it on." Her insistence460 is slurred461. "I like to see all the gray hair on your chest."
This interests him. "Is there much?" He tries to see, past his chin. "It's not gray, it's just blond, isn't it?"
Janice pulls the bedsheet down to his waist and crouches462 to examine him hair by hair. Her breasts hang down so her nipples, bumply in texture like hamburger, sway an inch above his belly463. "You do here, and here." She pulls each gray hair.
"Ouch. Damn you, Janice. Stop." He pushes his stomach up so her nipples vanish and her breasts are squashed against her own frail464 ribs465. Gripping the hair of her head in one fist in his rage at being invaded, the other hand still holding the magazine in which he was trying to read about magnets gripping, he arches his spine466 so she is thrown from his body to her side of the bed. In her boozy haze mistaking this for love play, Janice tugs the sheet down still lower on him and takes his prick in a fumbling467, twittering grip. Her touch is cold from having just washed her hands in the bathroom. The next page of Consumer Reports is printed on blue and asks, Summer cooling, 1979: air?conditioner orfan? He tries to skim the list of advantages and disadvantages peculiar468 to each (Bulky and heavy to install as opposed to Light and portable, Expensive to run as against Inexpensive to run, the fan seems to be scoring all the points) but can't quite disassociate himself from the commotion469 below his Waist, where Janice's anxious fingers seem to be asking the same question over and over, without getting the answer they want. Furious, he throws the magazine against the wall behind which Ma Springer sleeps. More carefully, he removes his reading glasses and puts them in his bedside table drawer and switches off the bedside lamp.
His wife's importunate470 flesh must then compete with the sudden call to sleep that darkness brings. It has been a long day. He was awake at six?thirty and got up at seven. His eyelids471 have grown too thin to tolerate the early light. Even now near midnight he feels tomorrow's early dawn rotating toward him. He recalls again the blue?eyed apparition472 who seemed to be his and Ruth's genes mixed; he is reminded then from so long ago of that Ruth whom he fucked upwards the first time, saying "Hey" in his surprise at her beauty, her body one long underbelly erect473 in light from the streetlamp outside on Summer Street, his prick erect in her ripe, ripe loveliness above him, Hey, it seems a melancholy474 falling that an act so glorious has been dwindled to this blurred burrowing475 of two old bodies, one drowsy476 and one drunk. Janice's rummaging477 at his prick has become hostile now as it fails to rise; her attention burns upon it like solar rays focused by a magnifying glass upon a scrap26 of silk, kids used to kill ants that way. Harry watched but never participated. We are cruel enough without meaning to be. He resents that in her eagerness for some dilution478 of her sense of being forsaken479, having quarrelled with her mother, and perhaps also afraid of their son's return, Janice gives him no space of secrecy480 in which blood can gather as it did behind his fly in ninth?grade algebra481 sitting beside Lotty Bingaman who in raising her hand to show she had the answers showed him wisps of armpit hair and pressed the thin cotton of her blouse tighter against the elastic482 trusswork of her bra, so its salmon483 color strained through. Then the fear was the bell would ring and he would have tó stand with this hard?on.
He resolves to suck Janice's tits, to give himself a chance to pull himself together, this is embarrassing. A pause at the top, you need a pause at the top to generate momentum484. His spit glimmers485 within her dark shape above him; the headboard of their bed is placed between two windows shaded from the light of sun and moon alike by a great copper beech486 whose leaves yet allow a little streetlight through.
"That feels nice." He wishes she wouldn't say this. Nice isn't enough. Without some shadow of assault or outrage487 it becomes another task, another duty. To think, all along, that Lotty was sitting there itching208 to be fucked. It wasn't just him. She was holding a dirty yearning488 between her legs just like the lavatory489 walls said, those drawings and words put there by the same kids who magnified the ants to death, that little sticky pop they died with, you could hear it, did girls too make a little sticky noise when they opened up? The thought of her knowing when she raised her hand that her blouse was tugged490 into wrinkles all pointing to the tip of her tit and that an edge of bra peeped out through the cotton armhole with those little curly virgin131 hairs and that he was watching for it all to happen does make blood gather. In the fumbly worried dark, with Ma Springer sleeping off her sulk a thickness of plaster away, Harry as if casually presents his stiffened prick to Janice's hand. Hot stuuuuf.
But wanderings within her own brain have blunted her ardor491 and her touch conveys this, it is too heavy, so in a desperate mood of self?rescue he hisses492 "Suck" in her ear, "Suck." Which she does, turning her back, her head heavy on his belly. Diagonal on the bed he stretches one arm as if preparing to fly and caresses494 her ass, these lower globes of hers less spherical495 than once they were, and the fur between more findable by his fingers. She learned to blow when she went away with Stavros but doesn't really get her head into it, nibbles496 more, the top inch or two. To keep himself excited he tries to remember Ruth, that exalted497 "Hey" and the way she swallowed it once, but the effort brings back with such details the guilt498 of their months together and, betrayal betrayed, his desertion and the final sour sorrow of it all.
Janice lets him slide from her mouth and asks, "What are you thinking about?"
"Work," he lies. "Charlie worries me. He's taking such good care of himself you hate to ask him to do anything. I seem to handle most of the customers now."
"Well why not? You give yourself twice the salary he gets and he's been there forever."
"Yeah, but I married the boss's daughter. He could have, but didn't."
"Marriage wasn't our thing," Janice says.
"What was?"
"Never mind."
Absentmindedly he strokes her long hair, soft from all that swimming, as it flows on his abdomen499. "Pair of kids came into the lot late today," he begins to tell her, then thinks better of it. Now 'that her sexual push is past, his prick has hardened, the competing muscles of anxiety having at last relaxed. But she, she is relaxed all over, asleep with his prick in her face. "Want me inside?" he asks softly, getting no answer. He moves her off his chest and works her inert500 body around so they lie side by side and he can fuck her from behind. She wakes enough to cry "Oh" when he penetrates501. Slickly admitted, he pumps slowly, pulling the sheet up over them both. Not hot enough yet for the fan versus502 air?conditioner decision, both are tucked around the attic somewhere, back under the dusty eaves, strain your back lifting it out, he has never liked the chill of air?conditioning even when it was only to be had at the movies and thought to be a great treat drawing you in right off the hot sidewalk, the word COOL in blue?green with icicles on the marquee, always seemed to him healthier to live in the air God gave however lousy and let your body adjust, Nature can adjust to anything. Still, some of these nights, sticky, and the cars passing below with that wet?tire sound, the kids with their windows open or tops down and radios blaring just at the moment of dropping off to sleep, your skin prickling wherever it touched cloth and a single mosquito alive in the room. His prick is stiff as stone inside a sleeping woman. He strokes her ass, the crease503 where it nestles against his belly, must start jogging again, the crease between its halves and that place within the crease, opposite of a nipple, dawned on him gradually over these years that she had no objection to being touched there, seemed to like it when she was under him his hand beneath her bottom. He touches himself too now and then to test if he is holding hard; he is, thick as a tree where it comes up out of the grass, the ridges504 of the roots, her twin dark moons swallowing and letting go, a little sticky sound. The long slack oily curve of her side, ribs to hip bone, floats under his fingertips idle as a gull's glide. Love has lulled505 her, liquor has carried her off. Bless that dope. "Jan?" he whispers. "You awake?" He is not displeased506 to be thus stranded508, another consciousness in bed is a responsibility, a snag in the flow of his thoughts. Further on in that issue an article How to shop for a car loan he ought to look at for professional reasons though it's not the sort of thing that interests him, he can't get it out ofhis head how they noticed those coffee grounds that jump out of the can when punctured509. Janice snores: a single rasp ofbreath taken underwater, at some deep level where her nose becomes a harp123. Big as the night her ass unconscious wraps him all around in this room where dabs of streetlight sifted510 by the beech shuffle on the ceiling. He decides to fuck her, the stiffness in his cock is killing him. His hard?on was her idea anyway. The Japanese beetle he flicked511 away comes into his mind as a model of delicacy512. Hold tight, dream girl. He sets three fingers on her flank, the pinky lifted as in a counting game. He is stealthy so as not to wake her but single in his purpose, quick, and pure. The climax513 freezes his scalp and stops his heart, all stealthy; he hasn't come with such a thump407 in months. So who says he's running out of gas?
"I hit the ball O.K.," Rabbit says next afternoon, "but damned if I could score." He is sitting in green bathing trunks at a white outdoor table at the Flying Eagle Tee and Racquet Club with the partners of his round and their wives and, in the case of Buddy514 Inglefinger, girlfriend. Buddy had once had a wife too but she left him for a telephone lineman down near West Chester. You could see how that might happen because Buddy's girlfriends are sure a sorry lot.
"When did you ever score?" Ronnie Harrison asks him so loudly heads in the swimming pool turn around. Rabbit has known Ronnie for thirty years and never liked him, one of those locker515?room show?offs always soaping himself for everybody to see and giving the JVs redbellies and out on the basketball court barging around all sweat and elbows trying to make up in muscle what he lacked in style. Yet when Harry and Janice joined Flying Eagle there old Ronnie was, with a respectable job at Schuylkill Mutual and this nice proper wife who taught third grade for years and must be great in bed, because that's all Ronnie ever used to talk about, he was like frantic on the subject, in the locker room. His kinky brass516?colored hair, that began to thin right after high school, is pretty thoroughly517 worn through on top now, and the years and respectability have drained some pink out of him; the skin from his temples to the comers of his eyes is papery and bluish, ?and Rabbit doesn't remember that his eyelashes were white. He likes playing golf with Ronnie because he loves beating him, which isn't too hard: he has one of those herky jerky punch swings short stocky guys gravitate toward and when he gets excit-ed he tends to roundhouse a big banana right into the woods.
"I heard Harry was a big scorer," Ronnie's wife Thelma says softly. She has a narrow forgettable face and still wears that quaint518 old?fashioned kind of one?piece bathing suit with a little pleated skirt. Often she has a towel across her shoulders or around her ankles as if to protect her skin from the sun; except for her sunburnt nose she is the same sallow color all over. Her wavy mousy hair is going gray strand507 by strand. Rabbit can never look at her without wondering what she must do to keep Harrison happy. He senses intelligence in her but intelligence in women has never much interested him.
"I set the B?league county scoring record in 1951," he says, to defend himself, and to defend himself further adds, "Big deal."
"It's been broken long since," Ronnie feels he has to explain. "By blacks."
"Every record has," Webb Murkett interposes, being tactful. "I don't know, it seems like the miles these kids run now have shrunk. In swimming they can't keep the record books up to date." Webb is the oldest man of their regular foursome, fifty and then some ? a lean thoughtful gentleman in roofing and siding contracting and supply with a canning gravel voice, his long face broken into longitudinal strips by creases519 and his hazel eyes almost lost under an amber tangle422 of eyebrows. He is the steadiest golfer, too. The one unsteady thing about him, he is on his third wife; this is Cindy, a plump brown?backed honey still smelling of high school, though they have two little ones, a boy and a girl, ages five and three. Her hair is cut short and lies wet in one direction, as if surfacing from a dive, and when she smiles her teeth look unnaturally521 even and white in her tan face, with pink spots of peeling on the roundest part of her cheeks; she has an exciting sexually neutral look, though her boobs slosh and shiver in the triangular little hammocks of her bra. The suit is one of those minimal522 black ones with only a string or two between the nape of her neck and where her ass begins to divide, a cleft523 more or less visible depending on the sag343 of her black diaper. Harry admires Webb. Webb always swings within himself, and gets good roll.
"Better nutrition, don't you think that's it?" Buddy Inglefinger's girl pipes up, in a little?girl reedy voice that doesn't go with her pushed?in face. She is some kind of physical therapist, though her own shape isn't too great. The girls Buddy brings around are a good lesson to Harry in the limits of being single ?hard little secretaries and restaurant hostesses, witchy?looking former flower children with grizzled ponytails and flat chests full of Navajo jewelry524, overweight assistant heads of personnel in one of those grim new windowless office buildings a block back from Weiser where they spend all day putting computer print?outs in the wastebasket. Women pickled in limbo526, their legs chalky and their faces slightly twisted, as if they had been knocked into their thirties by a sideways blow. They remind Harry somehow ofpirates, jaunty527 and maimed, though without the eye patches. What the hell was this one's name? She had been introduced around not a half hour ago, but when everybody was still drunk on golf.
Buddy brought her, so he can't let her two cents hang up there while the silence gets painful. He fills in, "My guess is it's mostly in the training. Coaches at even the secondary level have all these techniques that in the old days only the outstanding athlete would discover, you know, pragmatically. Nowadays the outstanding isn't that outstanding, there's a dozen right behind him. Or her." He glances at each of the women in a kind of dutiful tag. Feminism won't catch him off guard, he's traded jabs in too many singles bars. "And in countries like East Germany or China they're pumping these athletes full of steroids, like beef cattle, they're hardly human." Buddy wears steel?rimmed528 glasses of a style that only lathe529 operators used to employ, to keep shavings out of their eyes. Buddy does something with electronics and has a mind like that, too precise. He goes on, to bring it home, "Even golf. Palmer and now Nicklaus have been trampled530 out of sight by these kids nobody has heard of, the colleges down south clone 'em, you can't keep their names straight from one tournament to the next."
Harry always tries to take an overview531. "The records fall because they're there," he says. "Aaron shouldn't have been playing, they kept him in there just so he could break Ruth's record. ?I can remember when a five?minute mile in high school was a miracle. Now girls are doing it."
"It is amazing," Buddy's girl puts in, this being her conversation, "what the human body can do. Any one of us women here could go out now and pick up a car by the front bumper532, if we were motivated. If say there was a child of ours under the tires. You read about incidents like that all the time, and at the hospital where I trained the doctors could lay the statistics of it right out on paper. We don't use half the muscle?power we have."
Webb Murkett kids, "Hear that, Cin? Gas stations all closed down, you can carry the Audi home. Seriously, though. I've always marvelled534 at these men who know a dozen languages. If the brain is a computer think of all the gray cells this entails535. There seems to be lots more room in there, though."
His young wife silently lifts her hands to twist some water from her hair, that is almost too short to grab. This action gently lifts her tits in their sopping536 black small slings537 and reveals the shape of each erect nipple. A white towel is laid across her lap as if to relieve Harry from having to think about her crotch. What turns him off about Buddy's girl, he realizes, is not only does she have pimples538 on her chin and forehead but on her thighs539, high on the inside, like something venereal. Georgene? Geraldine? She is going on in that reedy too?eager voice, "Or the way these yogas can lift themselves off the ground or go back in time for thousands of years. Edgar Cayce has example after example. It's nothing supernatural, I can't believe in God, there's too much suffering, they're just using human powers we all have and never develop. You should all read the Tibetan Book of the Dead."
"Really?" Thelma Harrison says dryly. "Who's the author?"
Now silence does invade their group. A greenish reflective wobble from the pool washes ghostly and uneasy across their faces and a child gasping540 as he swims can be heard. Then Webb kindly541 says, "Closer to home now, we've had a spooky experience lately. I bought one of these Polaroid SX?70 Land Cameras as kind of a novelty, to give the kids a charge, and all of us can't stop being fascinated, it is supernatural, to watch that image develop right under your eyes."
"The kind," Cindy says, "that spits it out at you like this." She makes a cross?eyed face and thrusts out her tongue with a thrrupping noise. All the men laugh, and laugh.
"Consumer Reports had something on it," Harry says.
"It's magical," Cindy tells them. "Webb gets really turned on." When she grins her teeth look stubby, the healthy gums come so babyishly low.
"Why is my glass empty?" Janice asks.
"Losers buy," Harry virtually shouts. Such loudness years ago would have been special to male groups but now both sexes have watched enough beer commercials on television to know that this is how to act, jolly and loud, on weekends, in the bar, beside the barbecue grill55, on beaches and sundecks and mountainsides. "Winners bought the first round," he calls needlessly, as if among strangers or men without memories, while several arms flail542 for the waitress.
Harry's team lost the Nassau, but he feels it was his partner's fault. Buddy is such a flub artist, even when he hits two good shots he skulls543 the chip and takes three putts to get down. Whereas Harry as he has said hit the ball well, if not always straight: arms like ropes, start down slow, and look at the ball until it seems to swell544. He ended with a birdie, on the long par1?five that winds in around the brook341 with its watercress and sandy orange bottom almost to the clubhouse lawn; and that triumph ? the wooden gobbling sound the cup makes when a long putt falls! ? eclipses many double bogeys545 and suffuses546 with a limpid547 certainty of his own omnipotence548 and immortality549 the sight of the scintillating550 chlorinated water, the sunstruck faces and torsos of his companions, and the undulant shadow?pitted flank of Mt. Pemaquid where its forest begins above the shaven bright stripes of the fairways. He feels brother to this mountain in the day's declining sunlight. Mt. Pemaquid has only been recently tamed; for the two centuries while Mt. Judge presided above the metropolitan551 burgeoning552 of Brewer, the mountain nearby yet remained if not quite a wilderness553 a strange and forbidding place, where resort hotels failed and burned down and only hikers and lovers and escaping criminals ventured. The developers of the Flying Eagle (its name plucked from a bird, probably a sparrow hawk554, the first surveyor spotted and took as an omen) bought three hundred acres of the lower slopes cheap; as the bulldozers ground the second?growth ash, poplar, hickory, and dogwood into muddy troughs that would become fairways and terraced tennis courts, people said the club would fail, the county already had the Brewer Country Club south of the city for the doctors and the Jews and ten miles north the Tulpehocken Club behind its fieldstone walls and tall wrought555?iron fencing for the old mill?owning families and their lawyers and for the peasantry several nine?hole public courses tucked around in the farmland. But there was a class of the young middle?aged that had arisen in the retail businesses and service industries and software end of the new technology and that did not expect liveried barmen and secluded556 cardrooms, that did not mind the pre?fab clubhouse and sweep?it?yourself tennis courts of the Flying Eagle; to them the polyester wall?to?wall carpeting of the locker rooms seemed a luxury, and a Coke machine in a cement corridor a friendly sight. They were happy to play winter rules all summer long on the immature557, patchy fairways and to pay for all their privileges the five hundred, now risen to six?fifty, in annual dues, plus a small fortune in chits. Fred Springer for years had angled for admission to the Brewer C.C. ? the Tulpehocken was as out of reach as the College of Cardinals558, he knew that ? and had failed; now his daughter Janice wears whites and signs chits just like the heiresses of Sunflower Beer and Frankhauser Steel. Just like a du Pont. At the Flying Eagle Harry feels exercised, cleansed559, cherished; the biggest man at the table, he lifts his hand and a girl in the restaurant uniform of solid green blouse and checked skirt of white and green comes and takes his order for more drinks on this Sunday of widespread gas dearth560. She doesn't ask his name; the people here know it. Her own name is stitched Sandra on her blouse pocket; she has milky skin like his daughter but is shorter, and the weary woman she will be is already moving into her face.
"Do you believe in astrology?" Buddy's girl abruptly561 asks Cindy Murkett. Maybe she's a Lesbian, is why Harry can't remember her name. It was a name soft around the edges, not Gertrude.
"I don't know," Cindy says, the widened eyes of her surprise showing very white in her mask of tan. "I look at the horoscope in the papers sometimes. Some of the things they say ring so true, but isn't there a trick to that?"
"It's no trick, it's ancient science. It's the most ancient science there is."
This assault on Cindy's repose562 agitates563 Harry so he turns to Webb and asks if he watched the Phillies game last night.
"The Phillies are dead," Ronnie Harrison butts564 in.
Buddy comes up with the statistic533 that they've lost twentythree of their last thirty?four games.
"I was brought up a Catholic," Cindy is saying to Buddy's girl in a voice so lowered Harry has to strain to hear. "And the priests said such things are the work of the Devil." She fingers as she confides this the small crucifix she wears about her throat on a chain so fine it has left no trace in her tan.
"Bowa's being out has hurt them quite a lot," Webb says judiciously565, and pokes566 another cigarette into his creased567 face, lifting his rubbery upper lip automatically like a camel. He shot an 84 this afternoon, with a number of three?putt greens.
Janice is asking Thelma where she bought that lovely bathing suit. She must be drunk. "You can't find that kind at all in Kroll's anymore," Rabbit hears her say. Janice is wearing an old sort of Op?pattern blue two?piece, with a white cardigan bought to go with her tennis whites hung capelike over her shoulders. She holds a cigarette in her hand and Webb Murkett leans over to light it with his turquoise568 propane lighter569. She's not so bad, Harry thinks, remembering how he fucked her in her sleep. Or was it, for she seemed to moan and stop snoring afterwards. Compared to Thelma's passive sallow body Janice's figure has energy, edge, the bones of the knees pressing their shape against the skin as she leans forward to accept his light. She does this with a certain accustomed grace. Webb respects her, as Fred Springer's daughter.
Harry wonders where his own daughter is this afternoon, out in the country. Doing some supper chore, having come back from feeding chickens or whatever. Sundays in the sticks aren't so different, animals don't know about holidays. Would she have gone to church this morning? Ruth had no use for that. He can't picture Ruth in the country at all. For him, she was city, those solid red brick rows of Brewer that take what comes. The drinks come. ?Grateful cries, like on the beer commercials, and Cindy Murkett decides to earn hers by going for another swim. When she stands, the backs of her thighs are printed in squares and her skimpy black bathing suit bottom, still soaked, clings in two thin arcs well below two dimples symmetrically set in her fat like little whirlpools; the sight dizzies Harry. Didn't he used to take Ruth to the public pool in West Brewer? Memorial Day. There was the smell of grass pressed under your damp towel spread out in the shade of the trees away from the tile pool. Now you sit in chairs of enamelled wire that unless you have a cushion print a waffle pattern on the backs of your thighs. The mountain is drawing closer. Sun reddening beyond the city dusts with gold the tips of trees high like a mane on the crest of Pemaquid and deepens the pockets of dark between each tree in the undulating forest that covers like deep?piled carpet the acreage between crest and course. Along the far eleventh fairway men are still picking their way, insect?sized. As his eyes are given to these distances Cindy flat?dives and a few drops of the splash prick Harry's naked chest, that feels broad as the basking570 mountain. He frames in his mind the words, 1 heard a funny story on the radio yesterday driving home ....
. . . if I had your nice legs," Ronnie's plain wife is concluding to Janice.
"Oh but you still have a waist. Creeping middle?itis, that's what I've got. Harry says I'm shaped like a pickle525." Giggle. First she giggles, then she begins to lurch443.
"He looks asleep."
He opens his eyes and announces to the air, "I heard a funny story on the radio yesterday driving home."
"Fire Ozark," Ronnie is insisting loudly. "He's lost their re-spect, he's demoralizing. Until they can Ozark and trade Rose away, the Phillies are D, E, A, D, dead."
"I'm listening," Buddy's awful girlfriend tells Harry, so he has to go on.
"Oh just some doctor down in Baltimore, the radio announ-cer said he was hauled into court for killing a goose on the course with a golf club."
"Course on the golf with a goose club," Janice giggles. Some day what would give him great pleasure would be to take a large round rock and crush her skull in with it.
"Where'd you hear this, Harry?" Webb Murkett asks him, coming in late but politely tilting571 his long head, one eye shut against the smoke of his cigarette.
"On the radio yesterday, driving home," Harry answers, sorry he has begun.
"Speaking of yesterday," Buddy has to interrupt, "I saw a gas line five blocks long. That Sunoco at the corner of Ash and Fourth, it went down Fourth to Buttonwood, Buttonwood to Fifth, Fifth back to Ash, and then a new line beginning the other side of Ash. They had guys directing and everything. I couldn't believe it, and cars were still getting into it. Five fucking blocks long."
"Big heating?oil dealer who's one of our clients," Ronnie says, "says they have plenty of crude, it's just they've decided572 to put the squeeze on gasoline and make more heating oil out of it. The crude. In their books winter's already here. I asked the guy what was going to happen to the average motorist and he looked at me funny and said, `He can go screw himself instead of driving every weekend to the Jersey573 Shore."'
"Ronnie, Harry's trying to tell a story," Thelma says.
"It hardly seems worth it," he says, enjoying now the pro-longed focus on him, the comedy of delay. Sunshine on the mountain. The second gin is percolating574 through his system and elevating his spirits. He loves this crowd, his crowd, and the crowds at the other tables too, that are free to send delegates over and mingle231 with theirs, everybody knowing everybody else, and the kids in the pool, that somebody would save even if that caramel?colored lifeguard?girl popping bubble gum weren't on duty, and loves the fact that this is all on credit, the club not tak-ing its bite until the tenth of every month.
Now they coax575 him. "Come on, Harry, don't be a prick," Buddy's girl says. She's using his name now, he has to find hers. Gretchen. Ginger. Maybe those aren't actually pimples on her thighs, just a rash from chocolate or poison oak. She looks aller-gic, that pushed?in face, like she'd have trouble breathing. Defects come in clumps.
"So this doctor," he concedes, "is hauled into court for killing a goose on the course with a golf club."
"What club?" Ronnie asks.
"I knew you'd ask that," Harry says. "If not you, some other jerk."
"I'd think a sand wedge," Buddy says, "right at the throat. It'd clip the head right off."
"Too short in the handle, you couldn't get close enough," Ronnie argues. He squints576 as if to judge a distance. "I'd say a five or even an easy four would be the right stick. Hey Harry, how about that five?iron I put within a gimme on the fifteenth from way out on the other side of the sand trap? In deep rough yet."
"You nudged it," Harry says.
"Heh?"
"I saw you nudge the ball up to give yourself a lie."
"Let's get this straight. You're saying I cheated."
"Something like that."
"Let's hear the story, Harry," Webb Murkett says, lighting another cigarette to dramatize his patience.
Ginger was in the ballpark. Thelma Harrison is staring at him with her big brown sunglasses and that is distracting too. "So the doctor's defense577 evidently was that he had hit the goose with a golf ball and injured it badly enough he had to put it out of its misery. Then this announcer said, it seemed cute at the time, she was a female announcer -"
"Wait a minute sweetie, I don't understand," Janice says. "You mean he threw a golf ball at this goose?"
"Oh my God," Rabbit says, "am I ever sorry I got started on this. Let's go home."
"No tell me," Janice says, looking panicked.
"He didn't throw the ball, the goose was on the fairway probably by some pond and the guy's drive or whatever it was -'
"Could have been his second shot and he shanked it," Buddy offers.
His nameless girlfriend looks around and in that fake little?girl voice asks, "Are geese allowed on golf courses? I mean, that may be stupid, Buddy's the first golfer I've gone out with -'
"You call that a golfer?" Ronnie interrupts.
Buddy tells them, "I've read somewhere about a course in Alaska where these caribou578 wander. Maybe it's Sweden."
"I've heard of moose on courses in Maine," Webb Murkett says. Lowering sun flames in his twisted eyebrows. He seems sad. Maybe he's feeling the liquor too, for he rambles579 on, "Wonder why you never hear of a Swedish golfer. You hear of Bjorn Borg, and this skier580 Stenmark."
Rabbit decides to ride it through. "So the announcer says, `A mercy killing, or murder most foul?"'
"Ouch," someone says.
Ronnie is pretending to ruminate581, "Maybe you'd be better off with a four?wood, and play the goose off your left foot."
"Nobody heard the punch line," Harry protests.
"I heard it," Thelma Harrison says.
"We all heard it," Buddy says. "It's just very distressing582 to me," he goes on, and looks very severe in his steel?rimmed glasses, so the women at first take him seriously, "that nobody here, I mean nobody, has shown any sympathy for the goose."
"Somebody sympathized enough to bring the man to court," Webb Murkett points out.
"I discover myself," Buddy complains sternly, "in the midst of a crowd of people who while pretending to be liberal and tolerant are really anti?goose."
"Who, me?" Ronnie says, making his voice high as if goosed. Rabbit hates this kind of humor, but the others seem to enjoy it, including the women.
Cindy has returned glistening583 from her swim. Standing there with her bathing suit slightly awry, she tugs it straight and blushes in the face of their laughter. "Are you talking about me?" The little cross glints beneath the hollow of her throat. Her feet look pale on the poolside flagstones. Funny, how pale the tops of feet stay.
Webb gives his wife's wide hips584 a sideways hug. "No, honey. Harry was telling us a shaggy goose story."
"Tell me, Harry."
"Not now. Nobody liked it. Webb will tell you."
Sandra in her green and white uniform comes up to them. "Mrs. Angstrom."
The words shock Harry, as if his mother has been resurrected.
"Yes," Janice answers matter?of?factly.
"Your mother is on the phone."
"Oh Lordie, what now?" Janice stands, lurches slightly, composes herself. She takes her beach towel from the back of her chair and wraps it around her hips rather than walk in merely a bathing suit past dozens of people into the clubhouse. "What do you think it is?" she asks Harry.
He shrugs585. "Maybe she wants to know what kind of baloney we're having tonight."
A dig in that, delivered openly. The awful girlfriend titters. Harry is ashamed of himself, thinking in contrast of Webb's sideways hug of Cindy's hips. This kind of crowd will do a marriage in if you let it. He doesn't want to get sloppy.
In defiance586 Janice asks, "Honey, could you order me another vod?and?ton while I'm gone?"
"No." He softens587 this to, "I'll think about it," but the chill has been put on the party.
The Murketts consult and conclude it may be time to go, they have a thirteen?year?old babysitter, a neighbor's child. The same sunlight that ignited Webb's eyebrows lights the halo of fine hairs standing up from the goosebumps on Cindy's thighs. Not bothering with any towel around her, she saunters to the ladies' locker room to change, her pale feet leaving wet prints on the gray flagstones. Wait, wait, the Sunday, the weekend cannot be by, a golden sip174 remains588 in the glass. On the transparent589 tabletop among the wire chairs drinks have left a ghostly clockwork of rings refracted into visibility by the declining light. What can Janice's mother want? She has called out to them from a darker older world he remembers but wants to stay buried, a world of constant clothing and airless front parlors, of coal bins590 and narrow houses with spite-fully drawn shades, where the farmer's drudgery591 and the mill-worker's ruled land and city. Here, clean children shivering with their sudden emergence592 into the thinner element are handed towels by their mothers. Cindy's towel hangs on her empty chair. To be Cindy's towel and to be sat upon by her: the thought dries Rabbit's mouth. To stick your tongue in just as far as it would go while her pussy593 tickles594 your nose. No acne in that crotch. Heaven. He looks up and sees the shaggy mountain shouldering into the sun still, though the chairs are making long shadows, lozenge checker-boards. Buddy Inglefmger is saying to Webb Murkett in a low voice whose vehemence595 is not ironical596, "Ask yourself sometime who benefits from inflation. The people in debt benefit, society's losers. The government benefits because it collects more in taxes without raising the rates. Who doesn't benefit? The man with money in his pocket, the man who's paid his bills. That's why" ? Buddy's voice drops to a conspiratorial597 hiss493 ? "that man is vanishing like the red Indian. Why should I work," he asks Webb, "when the money is taken right out of my pocket for the benefit of those who don't?"
Harry is thinking his way along the mountain ridge323, where clouds are lifting like a form of steam. As if in driven motion Mt. Pemaquid cleaves598 the summer sky and sun, though poolside is in shadow now. Thelma is saying cheerfully to the girlfriend, "Astrology, paten?reading, psychiatry599 ? I'm for all of it. Anything that helps get you through." Harry is thinking of his own parents. They should have belonged to a club. Living embattled, Mom feuding600 with the neighbors, Pop and his union hating the men who owned the printing plant where he worked his life away, both of them scorning the few kin2 that tried to keep in touch, the four of them, Pop and Mom and Hassy and Mim, against the world and a certain guilt attaching to any reaching up and outside for a friend. Don't trust anybody: Andy Mellon doesn't, and 1 don't. Dear Pop. He never got out from under. Rabbit basks601 above that old remembered world, rich, at rest.
Buddy's voice nags602 on, aggrieved603. "Money that goes out of one pocket goes into somebody else's, it doesn't just evaporate. The big boys are getting rich out of this."
A chair scrapes and Rabbit feels Webb stand. His voice comes from a height, gravelly, humorously placating604. "Become a big boy yourself I guess is the only answer."
"Oh sure," Buddy says, knowing he is being put off.
A tiny speck605, a bird, the fabled606 eagle it might be, no, from the motionlessness of its wings a buzzard, is flirting607 in flight with the ragged608 golden?green edge of the mountain, now above it like a speck on a Kodak slide, now below it out of sight, while a blue-bellied cloud unscrolls, endlessly, powerfully. Another chair is scraped on the flagstones. His name, "Harry," is sharply called, in Janice's voice.
He lowers his gaze at last out of glory and as his eyes adjust his forehead momentarily hurts, a small arterial pain; perhaps with such a negligible unexplained ache do men begin their deaths, some slow as being tumbled by a cat and some fast as being struck by a hawk. Cancer, coronary. "What did Bessie want?"
Janice's tone is breathless, faintly stricken. "She says Nelson's come. With this girl."
"Melanie," Harry says, pleased to have remembered. And his remembering brings along with it Buddy's girlfriend's name. Joanne. "It was nice to have met you, Joanne," he says in parting, shaking her hand. Making a good impression. Casting his shadow.
As Harry drives them home in Janice's Mustang convertible with the top down, air pours over them and lends an illusion of urgent and dangerous speed. Their words are snatched from their mouths. "What the fuck are we going to do with the kid?" he asks her.
"How do you mean?" With her dark hair being blown back, Janice looks like a different person. Eyes asquint against the rush of wind and her upper lip lifted, a hand held near her ear to keep her rippling609 silk head scarf from flying away. Liz Taylor in A Place in the Sun. Even the little crow's?feet at the corner of her eye look glamorous610. She is wearing her tennis dress and the white cashmere cardigan.
"I mean is he going to get a job or what?"
"Well Harry. He's still in college."
"He doesn't act like it." He feels he has to shout. "I wasn't so fucking fortunate as to get to college and the guys that did didn't goof off in Colorado hang gliding and God knows what until their father's money ran out."
"You don't know what they did. Anyway times are different. Now you be nice to Nelson. After the things you put him through -"
"Not just me."
"? after what he went through you should be grateful he wants to come home. Ever."
"I don't know."
"You don't know what?"
"This doesn't feel good to me. I've been too happy lately."
"Don't be irrational," Janice says.
She is not, this implies. But one of their bonds has always been that her confusion keeps pace with his. As the wind pours past he feels a scared swift love for something that has no name. Her? His life? The world? Coming from the Mt. Pemaquid direction, you see the hillside borough of Mt. Judge from a spread?out angle altogether different from what you see coming home from the Brewer direction: the old box factory a long lean?windowed slab611 down low by the dried?up falls, sent underground to make electricity, and the new supertall Exxon and Mobil signs on their tapered612 aluminum poles along Route 422 as eerie613 as antennae614 arrived out of space. The town's stacked windows burn orange in the sun that streams level up the valley, and from this angle great prominence615 gathers to the sandstone spire616 of the Lutheran church where Rabbit went to Sunday school under crusty old Fritz Kruppenbach, who pounded in the lesson that life has no terrors for those with faith but for those without faith there can be no salvation617 and no peace. No peace. A sign says THICKLY SETTLED. As the Mustang slows, Harry is moved to confess to Janice, "I started to tell you last night, this young couple came into the lot yesterday and the girl reminded me of Ruth. She would be about the right age too. Slimmer, and not much like her in her way of talking, but there was, I don't know, something."
"Your imagination is what it was. Did you get the girl's name?" "I asked, but she wouldn't give it. She was cute about it, too. Kind of flirty618, without anything you could put your finger on."
"And you think that girl was your daughter."
From her tone he knows he shouldn't have confessed. "I didn't say that exactly."
"Then what did you say? You're telling me you're still thinking of this bag you fucked twenty years ago and now you and she have a darling little baby." He glances over and Janice no longer suggests Elizabeth Taylor, her lips all hard and crinkled as if baked in her fury. Ida Lupino. Where did they go, all the great Hollywood bitches? In town for years there had been just a Stop sign at the corner where Jackson slants619 down into Central but the other year after the burgess's own son smashed up a car running the sign the borough put in a light, that is mostly on blink, yellow this way and red the other. He touches the brake and takes the left turn. Janice leans with the turn to keep her mouth close to his ear. "You are crazy," she shouts. "You always want what you don't have instead of what you do. Getting all cute and smiley in the face thinking about this girl that doesn't exist while your real son, that you had with your wife, is waiting at home right now and you saying you wished he'd stay in Colorado."
"I do wish that," Harry says ? anything to change the subject even slightly. "You're wrong about my wanting what I don't have. I pretty much like what I have. The trouble with that is, then you get afraid somebody will take it from you."
"Well it's not going to be Nelson, he wants nothing from you except a little love and he doesn't get that. I don't know why you're such an unnatural520 father."
So they can finish their argument before they reach Ma Springer's he has slowed their speed up Jackson, under the shady interlock of maples620 and horsechestnuts, that makes the hour feel later than it is. "The kid has it in for me," he says mildly, to see what this will bring on.
It re?excites her. "You keep saying that but it's not true. He loves you. Or did." Where the sky shows through the mingled tree tops there is still a difference of light, a flickering that beats upon their faces and hands mothlike. In a sullen621 semi?mollified tone she says, "One thing definite, I don't want to hear any more about your darling illegitimate daughter. It's a disgusting idea."
"I know. I don't know why I mentioned it." He had mistaken the two of them for one and entrusted622 to her this ghost of his alone. A mistake married people make.
"Disgusting!" Janice cries.
"I'll never mention it again," he promises.
They ease into Joseph, at the corner where the fire hydrant still wears, faded, the red?white?and?blue clown outfit216 that schoolchildren three Junes ago painted on for the Bicentennial. Polite in his freshened dislike of her, he asks, "Shall I put the car in the garage?"
"Leave it out front, Nelson may want it."
As they walk up the front steps his feet feel heavy, as if the world has taken on new gravity. He and the kid years ago went through something for which Rabbit has forgiven himself but which he knows the kid never has. A girl called Jill died when Harry's house burned down, a girl Nelson had come to love like a sister. At least like a sister. But the years have piled on, the surviving have patched things up, and so many more have joined the dead, undone623 by diseases for which only God is to blame, that it no longer seems so bad, it seems more as if Jill just moved to another town, where the population is growing. Jill would be twenty?eight now. Nelson is twenty?two. Think of all the blame God has to shoulder.
Ma's front door sticks and yields with a shove. The living room is dark and duffel bags have been added to its clutter624 of padded furniture. A shabby plaid suitcase, not Nelson's, sits on the stair landing. The voices come from the sunporch. These voices lessen625 Harry's gravity, seem to refute the world's rumors626 of universal death. He moves toward the voices, through the dining room and then the kitchen, into the porch area conscious of himself as slightly too drunk to be cautious enough, overweight and soft and a broad target.
Copper?beech leaves crowd at the porch screen. Faces and bodies rise from the aluminum and nylon furniture like the cloud of an explosion with the sound turned down on TV. More and more in middle age the world comes upon him like images on a set with one thing wrong with it, like those images the mind entertains before we go to sleep, that make sense until we look at them closely, which wakes us up with a shock. It is the girl who has risen most promptly627, a curly?headed rather sturdy girl with shining brown eyes halfway628 out of her head and a ruby629?red dimpling smile lifted from a turn?of?the?century valentine. She has on jeans that have been through everything and a Hindu sort of embroidered630 shirt that has lost some sequins. Her handshake surprises him by being damp, nervous.
Nelson slouches to his feet. His usual troubled expression wears a mountaineer's tan, and he seems thinner, broader in the shoulders. Less of a puppy, more of a mean dog. At some point in Colorado or at Kent he has had his hair, which in high school used to fall to his shoulders, cut short, to give a punk look. "Dad, this is my friend Melanie. My father. And my mother. Mom, this is Melanie."
"Pleased to meet you both," the girl says, keeping the merry red smile as if even these plain words are prelude631 to a joke, to a little circus act. That is what she reminds Harry of, those somehow unreal but visibly brave women who hang by their teeth in circuses, or ride one?footed the velvet632 rope up to fly through the spangled air, though she is dressed in that raggy look girls hide in now. A strange wall or glare has instantly fallen between himself and this girl, a disinterest that he takes to be a gesture toward his son.
Nelson and Janice are embracing. Those little Springer hands, Harry remembers his mother saying, as he sees them press into the back of Janice's tennis dress. Tricky little paws, something about the curve of the stubby curved fingers that hints of sneaky strength. No visible moons to the fingernails and the ends look nibbled633. A habit of sullen grievance634 and blank stubbornness has descended to Nelson from Janice. The poor in spirit.
Yet when Janice steps aside to greet Melanie, and father and son are face to face, and Nelson says, "Hey, Dad," and like his father Harry wonders whether to shake hands or hug or touch in any way, love floods clumsily the hesitant space.
"You look fit," Harry says.
"I feel beat."
"How'd you get here so soon?"
"Hitched635, except for a stretch after Kansas City where we took a bus as far as Indianapolis." Places where Rabbit has never been, restless though his blood is. The boy tells him, "The night before last we spent in some field in western Ohio, I don't know, after Toledo. It was weird268. We'd gotten stoned with the guy who picked us up in this van all painted with designs, and when he dumped us off Melanie and I were really disoriented, we had to keep talking to each other so we wouldn't panic. The ground was colder than you'd think, too. We woke up frozen but at least the trees had stopped looking like octopuses636."
"Nelson," Janice cries, "something dreadful could have happened to you! To the two of you."
"Who cares?" the boy asks. To his grandmother, Bessie sitting in her private cloud in the darkest corner of the porch, he says, "You wouldn't care, would you Mom?mom, if I dropped out of the picture?"
"Indeed I would," is her stout637 response. "You were the apple of your granddad's eye."
Melanie reassures Janice, "People are basically very nice." Her voice is strange, gurgling as if she has just recovered from a fit of laughter, with a suspended singing undertone. Her mind seems focused on some faraway cause for joy. "You only meet the difficult ones now and then, and they're usually all right as long as you don't show fear."
"What does your mother think of your hitchhiking?" Janice asks her.
"She hates it," Melanie says, and laughs outright638, her curls shaking. "But she lives in California." She turns serious, her eyes shining on Janice steadily639 as lamps. "Really though, it's ecologically sound, it saves all that gas. More people should do it, but everybody's afraid."
A gorgeous frog, is what she looks like to Harry, though her body from what you can tell in those flopsy?mopsy clothes is human enough, and even exemplary. He tells Nelson, "If you'd budgeted your allowance better you'd've been able to take the bus all the way."
"Buses are boring, Dad, and full of creeps. You don't learn anything on a bus."
"It's true," Melanie chimes in. "I've heard terrible stories from girlfriends of mine, that happened to them on buses. The drivers can't do anything, they just drive, and ifyou look at all, you know, what they think of as hippie, they egg the guys on it seems."
"The world is no longer a safe place," Ma Springer announces from her dark corner.
Harry decides to act the father. "I'm glad you made it," he tells Nelson. "I'm proud of you, getting around the way you do. If I'd seen a little more of the United States when I was your age, I'd be a better citizen now. The only free ride I ever got was when Uncle sent me to Texas. Lubbock, Texas. They'd let us out," he tells Melanie, "Saturday nights, in the middle of a tremendous cow pasture. Fort Larson, it was called." He is overacting, talking too much.
"Dad," Nelson says impatiently, "the country's the same now wherever you go. The same supermarkets, the same plastic shit for sale. There's nothing to see."
"Colorado was a disappointment to Nelson," Melanie tells them, with her merry undertone.
"I liked the state, I just didn't care for the skunks640 who live in it." That aggrieved stunted641 look on his face. Harry knows he will never find out what happened in Colorado, to drive the kid back to him. Like those stories kids bring back from school where it was never them who started the fight.
"Have these children had any supper?" Janice asks, working up her mother act. You get out of practice quickly.
Ma Springer with unexpected complacence announces, "Melanie made the most delicious salad out of what she could find in the refrigerator and outside."
"I love your garden," Melanie tells Harry. "The little gate. Things grow so beautifully around here." He can't get over the way she warbles everything, all the while staring at his face as if fearful he will miss some point.
"Yeah," he says. "It's depressing, in a way. Was there any baloney left?"
Nelson says, "Melanie's veggy, Dad."
"Vega?"
"Vegetarian," the boy explains in his put?on whine642.
"Oh. Well, no law against that."
The boy yawns. "Maybe we should hit the hay. Melanie and I got about an hour's sleep last night."
Janice and Harry go tense, and eye Melanie and Ma Springer.
Janice says, "I better make up Nellie's bed."
"I've already done it," her mother tells her. "And the bed in the old sewing room too. I've had a lot of time by myself today, it seems you two are at the club more and more."
"How was church?" Harry asks her.
Ma Springer says unwillingly643, "It was not very inspiring. For the collection music they had brought out from St. Mary's in Brewer one of those men who can sing in a high voice like a woman."
Melanie smiles. "A countertenor. My brother was once a countertenor."
"Then what happened?" Harry asks, yawning himself. He suggests, "His voice changed."
Her eyes are solemn. "Oh no. He took up polo playing."
"He sounds like a real sport."
"He's really my half?brother. My father was married before."
Nelson tells Harry, "Mom?mom and I ate what was left of the baloney, Dad. We ain't no veggies."
Harry asks Janice, "What's there left for me? Night after night, I starve around here."
Janice waves away his complaint with a queenly gesture she wouldn't have possessed644 ten years ago. "I don't know, I was thinking we'd get a bite at the club, then Mother called."
"I'm not sleepy," Melanie tells Nelson.
"Maybe she ought to see a little ofthe area," Harry offers. "And you could pick up a pizza while you're out."
"In the West," Nelson says, "they hardly have pizzas, everything is this awful Mexican crap, tacos and chili645. Yuk."
"I'll phone up Giordano's, remember where that is? A block beyond the courthouse, on Seventh?"
"Dad, I've lived my whole life in this lousy county."
"You and me both. How does everybody feel about pepperoni? Let's get a couple, I bet Melanie's still hungry. One pepperoni and one combination."
"Jesus, Dad. We keep telling you, Melanie's a vegetarian."
"Oops. I'll order one plain. You don't have any bad feelings about cheese, do you Melanie? Or mushrooms. How about with mushrooms?"
"I'm full," the girl beams, her voice slowed it seems by its very burden of delight. "But I'd love to go with Nelson for the ride, I really like this area. It's so lush, and the houses are all kept so neat."
Janice takes this opening, touching646 the girl's arm, another gesture she might not have dared in the past. "Have you seen the upstairs?" she asks. "What we normally use for a guest room is across the hall from Mother's room, you'd share a bathroom with her."
"Oh, I didn't expect a room at all. I had thought just a sleeping bag on the sofa. Wasn't there a nice big sofa in the room where we first came in?"
Harry assures her, "You don't want to sleep on that sofa, it's so full of dust you'll sneeze to death. The room upstairs is nice, honest; if you don't mind sharing with a dressmaker's dummy647."
"Oh no," the girl responds. "I really just want a tiny corner where I won't be in the way, I want to go out and get a job as a waitress."
The old lady fidgets, moving her coffee cup from her lap to the folding tray table beside her chair. "I made all my dresses for years but once I had to go to the bifocals I couldn't even sew Fred's buttons on," she says.
"By that time you were rich anyway," Harry tells her, jocular in his relief at the bed business seeming to work out so smoothly648. Old lady Springer, when you cross her there's no end to it, she never forgets. Harry was a little hard on Janice early in the marriage and you can still see resentment in the set of Bessie's mouth. He dodges out of the sunporch to the phone in the kitchen. While
Giordano's is ringing, Nelson comes up behind him and rummages649 in his pockets. "Hey," Harry says, "what're ya robbing me for?"
"Car keys. Mom says take the car out front."
Harry braces650 the receiver between his shoulder and ear and fishes the keys from his left pocket and, handing them over, for the first time looks Nelson squarely in the face. He sees nothing of himself there except the small straight nose and a cowlick in one eyebrow98 that sends a little fan of hairs the wrong way and seems to express a doubt. Amazing, genes. So precise in all that coiled coding they can pick up a tiny cowlick like that. That girl had had Ruth's tilt, exactly: a little forward push of the upper lip and thighs, soft?tough, comforting.
"Thanks, Pops."
"Don't dawdle651. Nothing worse than cold pizza."
"What was that?" a tough voice at the other end of the line asks, having at last picked up the phone.
"Nothing, sorry," Harry says, and orders three pizzas ? one pepperoni, one combination, and one plain in case Melanie changes her mind. He gives Nelson a ten?dollar bill. "We ought to talk sometime, Nellie, when you get some rest." The remark goes with the money, somehow. Nelson makes no answer, taking the bill.
When the young people are gone, Harry returns to the sunporch and says to the women, "Now that wasn't so bad, was it? She seemed happy to sleep in the sewing room."
"Seems isn't being," Ma Springer darkly says.
"Hey that's right," Harry says. "Whaddid you think ofher anyway? The girlfriend."
"Does she feel like a girlfriend to you?" Janice asks him. She has at last sat down, and has a small glass in her hand. The liquid in the glass he can't identify by its color, a sickly but intense red like old?fashioned cream soda652 or the fluid in thermometers.
"Whaddeya mean? They spent last night in a field together. God knows how they shacked653 up in Colorado. Maybe in a cave."
"I'm not sure that follows anymore. They try to be friends in a way we couldn't when we were young. Boys and girls."
"Nelson does not look contented," Ma Springer announces heavily.
"When did he ever?" Harry asks.
"As a little boy he seemed very hopeful," his grandmother says.
"Bessie, what's your analysis of what brought him back here?"
The old lady sighs. "Some disappointment. Some thing that got too big for him. I'll tell you this though. If that girl doesn't behave herself under our roof, I'm moving out. I talked to Grace Stuhl about it after church and she's more than willing, poor soul, to have me move in. She thinks it might prolong her life."
"Mother," Janice asks, "aren't you missing All in the Family?"
"It was to be a show I've seen before, the one where this old girlfriend of Archie's comes back to ask for money. Now that it's summer it's all reruns. I did hope to look at The Jeffersons though, at nine?thirty, before this hour on Moses, if I can stay awake. Maybe I'll go upstairs to rest my legs. When I was making up Nellie's little bed, a corner hit a vein344 and it won't stop throbbing." She stands, wincing654.
"Mother," Janice says impatiently, "I would have made up those beds if you'd just waited. Let me go up with you and look at the guest room."
Harry follows them out of the sunporch (it's getting too tragic655 in there, the copper beech black as ink, captive moths656 beating their wings to a frazzle on the screens) and into the dining room. He likes the upward glimpse of Janice's legs in the tennis dress as she goes upstairs to help her mother make things fit and proper. Ought to try fucking her some night when they're both awake. He could go upstairs and give her a hand now but he is attracted instead to the exotic white face of the woman on the cover of the July Consumer Reports, that he brought downstairs this morning to read in the pleasant hour between when Ma went off to church and he and Janice went off to the club. The magazine still rests on the arm of the Barcalounger, that used to be old man Springer's evening throne. You couldn't dislodge him, and when he went off to the bathroom or into the kitchen for his Diet Pepsi the chair stayed empty. Harry settles into it. The girl on the cover is wearing a white bowler657 hat on her white?painted face above the lapels of a fully white tuxedo658; she is made up in red, white, and blue like a clown and in her uplifted hand has a dab103 of gooey white face cleaner. Jism, models are prostitutes, the girls in blue movies rub their faces in jism. Broadway tests, face cleansers it says beneath her, for face cleansers are one of the commodities this month's issue is testing, along with cottage cheese (how unclean is it? it is rather unclean), air?conditioners, compact stereos, and can openers (why do people make rectangular cans anyway?). He turns to finish with the air?conditioners and reads that if you live in a high?humidity area (and he supposes he does, at least compared to Arizona) almost all models tend to drip, some enough to make them doubtful choices for installation over a patio659 or walkway. It would be nice to have a patio, along with a sunken living room like Webb Murkett does. Webb and that cute little cunt Cindy, always looking hosed down. Still, Rabbit is content. This is what he ikes, domestic peace. Women circling with dutiful footsteps above him and the summer night like a lake lapping at the windows. He has time to read about compact stereos and even try the piece on car loans before Nelson and Melanie come back out of this night with three stained boxes of pizza. Quickly Harry snatches off his reading glasses, for he feels strangely naked in them.
The boy's face has brightened and might even be called cheerful. "Boy," he tells his father, "Mom's Mustang really can dig when you ask it to. Some jungle bunny in about a '69 Caddy kept racing391 his motor and I left him standing. Then he tailgated me all the way to the Running Horse Bridge. It was scary."
"You came around that way? Jesus, no wonder it took so long."
"Nelson was showing me the city," Melanie explains, with her musical smile, that leaves the trace of a hum in the air as she moves with the flat cardboard boxes toward the kitchen. Already she has that nice upright walk of a waitress.
He calls after her, "It's a city that's seen better days."
"I think it's beauti?ful," her answer floats back. "The people paint their houses in these different colors, like something you'd see in the Mediterranean660."
"The spics do that," Harry says. "The spics and the wops."
"Dad, you're really prejudiced. You should travel more."
"Naa, it's all in fun. I love everybody, especially with my car windows locked." He adds, "Toyota was going to pay for me and your mother to go to Atlanta, but then some agency toward Harrisburg beat our sales total and they got the trip instead. It was a regional thing. It bothered me because I've always been curious about the South: love hot weather."
"Don't be so chintzy, Dad. Go for your vacation and pay your way."
"Vacations, we're pretty well stuck with that camp up in the Poconos." Old man Springer's pride and joy.
"I took this course in sociology at Kent. The reason you're so tight with your money, you got the habit of poverty when you were a child, in the Depression. You were traumatized."
"We weren't that bad off. Pop got decent money, printers were never laid off like some of the professions. Anyway who says I'm tight with my money?"
"You owe Melanie three dollars already. I had to borrow from her."
"You mean those three pizzas cost thirteen dollars?"
"We got a couple of sixpacks to go with them."
"You and Melanie can pay for your own beer. We never drink it around here. Too fattening661."
"Where's Mom?"
"Upstairs. And another thing. Don't leave your mother's car out front with the top down. Even if it doesn't rain, the maples drop something sticky on the seats."
"I thought we might go out again."
"You're kidding. I thought you said you got only an hour's sleep last night."
"Dad, lay off the crap. I'm going on twenty?three."
"Twenty?three, and no sense. Give me the keys. I'll put the Mustang out back in the garage."
"Mo?om," the boy shouts upwards. "Dad won't let me drive your car!"
Janice is coming down. She has put on her peppermint377 dress and looks tired. Harry tells her, "All I asked was for him to put it in the garage. The maple sap gets the seats sticky. He says he wants to go out again. Christ, it's nearly ten o'clock."
"The maples are through dripping for the year," Janice says. To Nelson she merely says, "If you don't want to go out again maybe you should put the top up. We had a terrible thunderstorm two nights ago. It hailed, even."
"Why do you think," Rabbit asks her, "your top is all black and spotty? The sap or whatever it is drips down on the canvas and can't be cleaned off"
"Harry, it's not your car," Janice tells him.
"Piz?za," Melanie calls from the kitchen, her tone bright and pearly. "Mangiamo, prego!"
"Dad's really into cars, isn't he?" Nelson asks his mother. "Like they're magical, now that he sells them."
Harry asks her, "How about Ma? She want to eat again?"
"Mother says she feels sick."
"Oh great. One of her spells."
"Today was an exciting day for her."
"Today was an exciting day for me too. I was told I'm a tightwad and think cars are magical." This is no way to be, spiteful. "Also, Nelson, I birdied the eighteenth, you know that long dogleg? A drive that just cleared the creek662 and kept bending right, and then I hit an easy five?iron and then wedged it up to about twelve feet and sank the damn putt! Still have your clubs? We ought to play." He puts a paternal hand on the boy's back.
"I sold them to a guy at Kent." Nelson takes an extra?fast step, to get out from under his father's touch. "I think it's the stupidest game ever invented."
"You must tell us about hang gliding," his mother says.
"It's neat. It's very quiet. You're in the wind and don't feel a thing. Some of the people get stoned beforehand but then there's the danger you'll think you can really fly."
Melanie has sweetly set out plates and transferred the pizzas from their boxes to cookie sheets. Janice asks, "Melanie, do you hang glide?"
"Oh no," says the girl. "I'd be terrified." Her giggling663 does not somehow interrupt her lustrous664, caramel?colored stare. "Pru used to do it with Nelson. I never would."
"Who's Pru?" Harry asks.
"You don't know her," Nelson tells him.
"I know I don't. I know I don't know her. If I knew her I wouldn't have to ask."
"I think we're all cross and irritable," Janice says, lifting a piece of pepperoni loose and laying it on a plate.
Nelson assumes that plate is for him. "Tell Dad to quit leaning on me," he complains, settling to the table as if he has tumbled from a motorcycle and is sore all over.
In bed, Harry asks Janice, "What's eating the kid, do you think?"
"I don't know."
"Something is." ? "Yes."
As they think this over they can hear Ma Springer's television going, chewing away at Moses from the Biblical sound of the voices, shouting, rumbling665, with crescendos of music between. The old lady falls asleep with it on and sometimes it crackles all night, if janice doesn't tiptoe in and turn it off. Melanie had gone to bed in her room with the dressmaker's dummy. Nelson came upstairs to watch The Jeffersons with his grandmother and by the time his parents came upstairs had gone to bed in his old room, without saying goodnight. Sore all over. Rabbit wonders if the young couple from the country will come into the lot tomorrow. The girl's pale round face and the television screen floating unwatched in Ma Springer's room become confused in his mind as the exalted music soars. Janice is asking, "How do you like the girl?"
"Melanie baby. Spooky. Are they all that way, of that generation, like a rock just fell on their heads and it was the nicest experience in the world?"
"I think she's trying to ingratiate herself. It must be a difficult thing, to go into a boyfriend's home and make a place for yourself. I wouldn't have lasted ten minutes with your mother."
Little she knows, the poison Mom talked about her. "Mom was like me," Harry says. "She didn't like being crowded." New people at either end of the house and old man Springer's ghost sittirig downstairs on his Barcalounger. "They don't act very lovey," he says. "Or is that how people are now? Hands off."
"I think they don't want to shock us. They know they must get around Mother."
"Join the crowd."
Janice ponders this. The bed creaks and heavy footsteps slither on the other side of the wall, and the excited cries of the television set are silenced with a click. Burt Lancaster just getting warmed up. Those teeth: can they be his own? All the stars have them crowned. Even Harry, he used to have a lot of trouble with his molars and now they're snug, safe and painless, in little jackets of gold alloy666 costing four hundred fifty each.
"She's still up," Janice says. "She won't sleep. She's stewing667." In the positive way she pronounces her s's she sounds more and more like her mother. We carry our heredity concealed668 for a while and then it pushes through. Out of those narrow DNA669 coils.
In a stir of wind as before a sudden rain the shadows of the copper?beech leaves surge and fling their ragged interstices of streetlight back and forth across the surfaces where the ceiling meets the far wall. Three cars pass, one after the other, and Harry's sense of the active world outside sliding by as he lies here safe wells up within him to merge416 with the bed's nebulous ease. He is in his bed, his molars are in their crowns. "She's a pretty good old sport," he says. "She rolls with the punches."
"She's waiting and watching," Janice says in an ominous voice that shows she is more awake than he. She asks, "When do I get my turn?"
"Turn?" The bed is gently turning, Stavros is waiting for him by the great display window that brims with dusty morning light. You asked for it.
"You came last night, from the state I was in this morning. Me and the sheet."
The wind stirs again. Damn. The convertible is still out there with the top down. "Honey, it's been a long day." Running out of gas. "Sorry."
"You're forgiven," Janice says. "Just." She has to add, "I might think I don't turn you on much anymore."
"No, actually, over at the club today I was thinking how much sassier you look than most of those broads, old Thelma in her little skirt and the awful girlfriend of Buddy's."
"And Cindy?"
"Not my type. Too pudgy."
"Liar305."
You got it. He is dead tired yet something holds him from the black surface of sleep, and in that half?state just before or after he sinks he imagines he hears lighter, younger footsteps slither outside in the hall, going somewhere in a hurry.
Melanie is as good as her word, she gets a job waitressing at a new restaurant downtown right on Weiser Street, an old restaurant with a new name, The Crepe House. Before that it was the Café Barcelona, painted tiles and paella, iron grillwork and gazpacho; Harry ate lunch there once in a while but in the evening it had attracted the wrong element, hippies and Hispanic families from the south side instead of the white?collar types from West Brewer and the heights along Locust Boulevard, that you need to make a restaurant go in this city. Brewer never has been much for Latin touches, not since Carmen Miranda and all those Walt Disney Saludos Amigos movies. Rabbit remembers there used to be a Club Castanet over on Warren Avenue but the only thing Spanish had been the name and the frills on the waitresses' uniforms, which had been orange. Before the Crepe House had been the Barcelona it had been for many years Johnny Frye's Chophouse, good solid food day and night for the big old?fashioned German eaters, who have eaten themselves pretty well into the grave by now, taking with them tons of pork chops and sauerkraut and a river of Sunflower Beer. Under its newest name, Johnny Frye's is a success; the lean new race of downtown office workers comes out of the banks and the federal offices and the deserted670 department stores and makes its way at noon through the woods the city planners have inflicted671 on Weiser Square and sits at the little tile tables left over from the Café Barcelona and dabbles672 at glorified673 pancakes wrapped around minced675 whatever. Even driving through after a movie at one of the malls you can see them in there by candlelight, two by two, bending toward each other over the crepes earnest as hell, on the make, the guys in leisure suits with flared676 open collars and the girls in slinky dresses that cling to their bodies as if by static electricity, and a dozen more just like them standing in the foyer waiting to be seated. It has to do with diet, Harry figures ? people now want to feel they're eating less, and a crepe sounds like hardly a snack whereas if they called it a pancake they would have scared everybody away but kids and two?ton Katrinkas. Harry marvels that this new tribe of customers exists, on the make, and with money. The world keeps ending but new people too dumb to know it keep showing up as if the fun's just started. The Crepe House is such a hit they've bought the decrepit brick building next door and expanded into the storerooms, leaving the old cigar store, that still has a little gas pilot to light up by by the cash register, intact and doing business. To staff their new space the Crepe House needed more waitresses. Melanie works some days the lunch shift from ten to six and other days she goes from five to near one in the morning. One day Harry took Charlie over to lunch for him to see this new woman in the Angstrom life, but it didn't work out very well: having Nelson's father show up as a customer with a strange man put roses of embarrassment678 in Melanie's cheeks as she served them in the midst of the lunchtime mob.
"Not a bad looker," Charlie said on that awkward occasion, gazing after the young woman as she flounced away. The Crepe House dresses its waitresses in a kind of purple colonial mini, with a big bow in back that switches as they walk.
"You can see that?" Harry said. "I can't. It bothers me, actually. That I'm not turned on. The kid's been living with us two weeks now and I should be climbing the walls."
"A little old for wall?climbing, aren't you, chief? Anyway there are some women that don't do it for some men. That's why they turn out so many models."
"As you say she has all the equipment. Big knockers, ifyou look."
"I looked."
"The funny thing is, she doesn't seem to turn Nelson on either, that I can see. They're buddies679 all right; when she's home they spend hours in his room together playing his old records and talking about God knows what, sometimes they come out of there it looks like he's been crying, but as far as Jan and I can tell she sleeps in the front room, where we put her as a sop46 to old lady Springer that first night, never thinking it would stick. Actually Bessie's kind of taken with her by now, she helps with the housework more than Janice does for one thing; so at this point wherever Melanie sleeps I think she'd look the other way."
"They've got to be fucking," Stavros insisted, setting his hands on the table in that defining, faintly menacing way he has: palms facing, thumbs up.
"You'd think so," Rabbit agreed. "But these kids now are spooky. These letters in long white envelopes keep arriving from Colorado and they spend a lot of time answering. The postmark's Colorado but the return address printed on is some dean's office at Kent. Maybe he's flunked680 out."
Charlie scarcely listened. "Maybe I should give her a buzz, if Nelson's not ringing her bell."
"Come on, Charlie. I didn't say he's not, I just don't get that vibe around the house. I don't think they do it in the back of the Mustang, the seats are vinyl and these kids today are too spoiled." He sipped681 his Margarita and wiped the salt from his lips. The bartender here was left over from the Barcelona days, they must have a cellarful of tequila. "To tell you the truth I can't imagine Nelson screwing anybody, he's such a sourpussed little punk."
"Got his grandfather's frame. Fred was sexy, don't kid yourself. Couldn't keep his hands off the clerical help, that's why so many of them left. Where'd you say she's from?"
"California. Her father sounds like a bum, he lives in Oregon after being a lawyer. Her parents split a time ago."
"So she's a long way from home. Probably needs a friend, along more mature lines."
"Well I'm right there across the hall from her."
"You're family, champ. That doesn't count. Also you don't appreciate this chick and no doubt she twigs682 to that. Women do."
"Charlie, you're old enough to be her father."
"Aah. These Mediterranean types, they like to see a little gray hair on the chest. The old mastoras."
"What about your lousy ticker?"
Charlie smiled and put his spoon into the cold spinach683 soup that Melanie had brought. "Good a way to go as any."
"Charlie, you're crazy," Rabbit said admiringly, admiring yet once again in their long relationship what he fancies as the other man's superior grip upon the basic elements of life, elements that Harry can never settle in his mind.
"Being crazy's what keeps us alive," Charlie said, and sipped, closing his eyes behind his tinted glasses to taste the soup better. "Too much nutmeg. Maybe Janice'd like to have me over, it's been a while. So I can feel things out."
"Listen, I can't have you over so you can seduce684 my son's girlfriend."
"You said she wasn't a girlfriend."
"I said they didn't act like it, but then what do I know?"
"You have a pretty good nose. I trust you, champ." He changed the subject slightly. "How come Nelson keeps showing up at the lot?"
"I don't know, with Melanie off at work he doesn't have much to do, hanging around the house with Bessie, going over to the club with Janice swimming till his eyes get pink from the chlorine. He shopped around town a little for a job but no luck. I don't think he tried too hard."
"Maybe we could fit him in at the lot."
"I don't want that. Things are cozy enough around here for him already."
"He going back to college?"
"I don't know. I'm scared to ask."
Stavros put down his soup spoon carefully. "Scared to ask," he repeated. "And you're paying the bills. If my father had ever said to anybody he was scared of anything to do with me, I think the roof would have come off the house."
"Maybe scared isn't the word."
"Scared is the word you used." He looked up squinting685 in what seemed to be pain through his thick glasses to perceive Melanie more clearly as, in a flurry of purple colonial flounces, she set before Harry a Crépe con4 Zucchini and before Charlie a Crépe aux Champignons et Oignons. The scent432 of their vegetable steam remained like a cloud of perfume she had released from the frills of her costume before flying away. "Nice," Charlie said, not of the food. "Very nice." Rabbit still couldn't see it. He thought of her body without the frills and got nothing in the way of feeling except a certain fear, as if seeing a weapon unsheathed, or gazing upon an inflexible686 machine with which his soft body should not become involved.
But he feels obliged one night to say to Janice, "We haven't had Charlie over for a while."
She looks at him curiously687. "You want to? Don't you see enough of him at the lot?"
"Yeah but you don't see him there."
"Charlie and I had our time, of seeing each other."
"Look, the guy lives with his mother who's getting to be more and more of a drag, he's never married, he's always talking about his nieces and nephews but I don't think they give him shit actually -"
"All right, you don't have to sell it. I like seeing Charlie. I must say I think it's creepy that you encourage it."
"Why shouldn't I? Because of that old business? I don't hold a grudge. It made you a better person."
"Thanks," Janice says dryly. Guiltily he tries to count up how many nights since he's given her an orgasm. These July nights, you get thirsty for one more beer as the Phillies struggle and then in bed feel a terrific weariness, a bliss of inactivity that leads you to understand how men can die willingly, gladly, into an eternal release from the hell of having to perform. When Janice hasn't been fucked for a while, her gestures speed up, and the thought of Charlie's coming intensifies688 this agitation689. "What night?" she asks.
"Whenever. What's Melanie's schedule this week?"
"What does that have to do with it?"
"He might as well meet her properly. I took him over to the crépe place for lunch and though she tried to be pleasant she was rushed and it didn't really work out."
"What would `work out' mean, if it did?"
"Don't give me a hard time, it's too fucking humid. I've been thinking of asking Ma to go halves with us on a new air?conditioner, I read where a make called Friedrich is best. I mean `work out' just as ordinary human interchange. He kept asking me embarrassing questions about Nelson."
"Like what? What's so embarrassing about Nelson?"
"Like whether or not he was going to go back to college and why he kept showing up at the lot."
"Why shouldn't he show up at the lot? It was his grandfather's. And Nelson's always loved cars."
"Loves to bounce 'em around, at least. The Mustang has a whole new set of rattles691, have you noticed?"
"I hadn't noticed," Janice says primly692, pouring herself more Campari. In an attempt to cut down her alcohol intake693, to slow down creeping middle?itis, she has appointed Campari?and?soda her summer drink; but keeps forgetting to put in the soda. She adds, "He's used to those flat Ohio roads."
Out at Kent Nelson had bought some graduating senior's old Thunderbird and then when he decided to go to Colorado sold it for half what he paid. Remembering this adds to Rabbit's suffocating694 sensation of being put upon. He tells her, "They have the fifty?five?mile?an?hour speed limit out there too. The poor country is trying to save gas before the Arabs turn our dollars into zinc pennies and that baby boy of yours does fifty?five in second gear."
Janice knows he is trying to get her goat now, and turns her back with that electric swiftness, as of speeded?up film, and heads toward the dining?room phone. "I'll ask him for next week," she says. "If that'll make you less bitchy."
Charlie always brings flowers, in a stapled695 green cone696 of paper, that he hands to Ma Springer. After all those years of kissing Springer's ass he knows his way around the widow. Bessie takes them without much of a smile; her maiden697 name was Koerner and she never wholly approved of Fred's taking on a Greek, and then her foreboding came true when Charlie had an affair with Janice with such disastrous698 consequences, around the time of the moon landing. Well, nobody is going to the moon much these days.
The flowers, unwrapped, are roses the color of a palomino horse. Janice puts them in a vase, cooing. She has dolled up in a perky daisy?patterned sundress for the occasion, that shows off her brown shoulders, and wears her long hair up in the heat, to remind them all of her slender neck and to display the gold necklace of tiny overlapping699 fish scales that Harry gave her for their twentieth wedding anniversary three years ago. Paid nine hundred dollars for it then, and it must be worth fifteen hundred now, gold going crazy the way it is. She leans forward to give Charlie a kiss, on the mouth and not the cheek, thus effortlessly reminding those who watch of how these two bodies have travelled within one another. "Charlie, you look too thin," Janice says. "Don't you know how to feed yourself?"
"I pack it in, Jan, but it doesn't stick to the ribs anymore. You look terrific, on the other hand."
"Melanie's got us all on a health kick. Isn't that right, Mother? Wheat germ and alfalfa sprouts700 and I don't know what all. Yogurt."
"I feel better, honest to God," Bessie pronounces. "I don't know though if it's the diet or just having a little more life around the house."
Charlie's square fingertips are still resting on Janice's brown arm. Rabbit sees the phenomenon as he would something else in nature ? a Japanese beetle on a leaf, or two limbs of a tree rubbing together in the wind. Then he remembers, descending701 into the molecules702, what love feels like: huge, skin on skin, planets impinging.
"We all eat too much sugar and sodium703," Melanie says, in that happy uplifted voice of hers, that seems unconnected to what is below, like a blessing704 no one has asked for. Charlie's hand has snapped away from Janice's skin; he is all warrior705 attention; his profile in the gloom of this front room through which all visitors to this household must pass shines, low?browed and jut706 jawed, the muscles around the hollow of his jaw pulsing. He looks younger than at the lot, maybe because the light is poorer.
"Melanie," Harry says, "you remember Charlie from lunch the other day, doncha?"
"Of course. He had the mushrooms and capers707."
"Onions," Charlie says, his hand still poised708 to take hers.
"Charlie's my right?hand man over there, or I'm his is I guess how he'd put it. He's been moving cars for Springer Motors since -" He can't think of a joke.
"Since they were called horseless buggies," Charlie says, and takes her hand in his. Watching, Harry marvels at her young hand's narrowness. We broaden all over. Old ladies' feet: they look like little veiny709 loaves of bread, rising. Away from her spacey stare Melanie is knit as tight together as a new sock. Charlie is moving in on her. "How are you, Melanie? How're you liking710 these parts?"
"They're nice," she smiles. "Quaint, almost."
"Harry tells me you're a West Coast baby."
Her eyes lift, so the whites beneath the irises711 show, as she looks toward her distant origins. "Oh yes. I was born in Marin County. My mother lives now in a place called Carmel. That's to the south."
"I've heard of it," Charlie says. "You've got some rock stars there."
"Not really, I don't think . . . . Joan Baez, but she's more what you'd call traditional. We live in what used to be our summer place."
"How'd that happen?"
Startled, she tells him. "My father used to work in San Francisco as a corporation lawyer. Then he and my mother broke up and we had to sell the house on Pacific Avenue. Now he's in Oregon learning to be a forester."
"That's a sad story, you could say," Harry says.
"Daddy doesn't think so," Melanie tells him. "He's living with a lovely girl who's part Yakima Indian."
"Back to Nature," Charlie says.
"It's the only way to go," Rabbit says. "Have some soybeans."
This is a joke, for he is passing them Planter's dry?roasted cashews in a breakfast bowl, nuts that he bought on impulse at the grocery next to the state liquor store fifteen minutes ago, running out in the rattling Mustang to stoke up for tonight's company. He had been almost scared off by the price on the jar, $2.89, up 30¢ from the last time he'd noticed, and reached for the dry?roasted peanuts instead. Even these, though, were over a dollar, $1.09, peanuts that you used to buy a big sack of unshelled for a quarter when he was a boy, so he thought, What the hell's the point of being rich, and took the cashews after all.
He is offended when Charlie glances down and holds up a fastidious palm, not taking any. "No salt," Harry urges. "Loaded with protein."
"Never touch junk," Charlie says. "Doc says it's a no?no."
"Junk!" he begins to argue.
But Charlie is keeping the pressure on Melanie. "Every winter, I head down to Florida for a month. Sarasota, on the Gulf712 side."
"What's that got to do with California?" Janice asks, cutting in.
"Same type of Paradise," Charlie says, turning a shoulder so as to keep speaking directly to Melanie. "It's my meat. Sand in your shoes, that's the feeling, wearing the same ragged cut?offs day after day. This is over on the Gulf side. I hate the Miami side. The only way you'd get me over on the Miami side would ??be inside an alligator713. They have 'em, too: come up out of these canals right onto your lawn and eat your pet dog. It happens a lot.
"I've never been to Florida," Melanie says, looking a little glazed714, even for her.
"You should give it a try," Charlie says. "It's where the real people are."
"You mean we're not real people?" Rabbit asks, egging him on, helping715 Janice out. This must hurt her. He takes a cashew between his molars and delicately cracks it, prolonging the bliss. That first fracture, in there with tongue and spit and teeth. He loves nuts. Clean eating, not like meat. In the Garden of Eden they ate nuts and fruit. Dry?roasted, the cashew bums716 a little. He prefers them salted, soaked in sodium, but got this kind in deference717 to Melanie; he's being brainwashed about chemicals. Still, some chemical must have entered into this dry?roasting too, there's nothing you can eat won't hurt you down here on earth. Janice must just hate this.
"It's not just all old people either," Charlie is telling Melanie. "You see plenty of young people down there too, just living in their skins. Gorgeous."
"Janice," Mrs. Springer says, pronouncing it Chaniss. "We should go on the porch and you should offer people drinks." To Charlie she says, "Melanie made a lovely fruit punch."
j "How much gin can it absorb?" Charlie asks.
Harry loves this guy, even if he is putting the make on Melanie in front of Janice. On the porch, when they've settled on the aluminum furniture with their drinks and Janice is in the kitchen stirring at the dinner, he asks him, to show him off, "How'd you like Carter's energy speech?"
Charlie cocks his head toward the rosy718?cheeked girl and says, "I thought it was pathetic. The man was right. I'm suffering from a crisis in confidence. In him."
Nobody laughs, except Harry. Charlie passes the ball. "What did you think of it, Mrs. Springer?"
The old lady, called onto the stage, smooths the cloth of her lap and looks down as if for crumbs719. "He seems a well?intentioned Christian720 man, though Fred always used to say the Democrats721 were just a tool for the unions. Still and all. Some businessman in there might have a better idea what to do with the inflation."
"He is a businessman, Bessie," Harry says. "He grows peanuts. His warehouse722 down there grosses more than we do."
"I thought it was sad," Melanie unexpectedly says, leaning forward so her loose gypsyish blouse reveals cleavage, a tube of air between her braless breasts, "the way he said people for the first time think things are going to get worse instead of better."
"Sad if you're a chick like you," Charlie says. "For old crocks like us, things are going to get worse in any case."
"You believe that?" Harry asks, genuinely surprised. He sees his life as just beginning, on clear ground at last, now that he has a margin723 of resources, and the stifled724 terror that always made him restless has dulled down. He wants less. Freedom, that he always thought was outward motion, turns out to be this inner dwindling.
"I believe it, sure," Charlie says, "but what does this nice girl here believe? That the show's over? How can she?"
"I believe," Melanie begins. "Oh, I don't know ? Bessie, help me."
Harry didn't know she calls the old lady by her first name. Took him years of living with her to work up to feeling easy about that, and it wasn't really until after one day he had accidentally walked in on her in her bathroom, Janice hogging725 theirs.
"Say what's on your mind," the old woman advises the younger. "Everybody else is."
The luminous orbs726 of Melanie's eyes scout164 their faces in a sweep that ends in an upward roll such as you see in images of saints. "I believe the things we're running out of we can learn to do without. I don't need electric carving727 knives and all that. I'm more upset about the snail728 darters and the whales than about iron ore and oil." She lingers on this last word, giving it two syllables, and stares at Harry. As if he's especially into oil. He decides what he resents about her is she seems always to be trying to hypnotize him. "I mean," she goes on, "as long as there are growing things, there's still a world with endless possibilities."
The hum beneath her words hangs in the darkening space of the porch. Alien. Moonraker.
"One big weed patch," Harry says. "Where the hell is Nelson, anyway?" He is irked, he figures, because this girl is out of this world and that makes his world feel small. He feels sexier even toward fat old Bessie. At least her voice has a lot of the county, a lot of his life, in it. That time he blundered into the bathroom he didn't see much; she shouted, sitting on the toilet with her skirt around her knees, and he heard her shout and hardly saw a thing, just a patch of flank as white as a butcher's marble counter.
Bessie answers him dolefully, "I believe he went out for a reason. Janice would know."
Janice comes to the doorway729 of the porch, looking snappy in her daisies and an orange apron730. "He went off around six with Billy Fosnacht. They should have been back by now."
"Which car'd they take?"
"They had to take the Corona. You were at the liquor store with the Mustang."
"Oh great. What's Billy Fosnacht doing around anyway? Why isn't he in the volunteer army?" He feels like making a show, for Charlie and Melanie, of authority.
There is authority, too, in the way Janice is holding a wooden stirring spoon. She says, to the company in general, "They say he's doing very well. He's in his first year of dental school up somewhere in New England. He wants to be a, what do they call it ??"
"Ophthalmologist," Rabbit says.
"Endodontist."
"My God," is all Harry can say. Ten years ago, the night his house had burned, Billy had called his mother a bitch. He had seen Billy often since, all the years Nelson was at Mt. Judge High, but had never forgotten that, how Peggy had then slapped him, this little boy just thirteen years old, the marks of her fingers leaping up pink on the child's delicate cheek. Then he had called her a whore, Harry's jism warm inside her. Later that night Nelson had vowed731 to kill his father. You fucking asshole, you've let her die. I'll kill you. I'll kill you. Harry had put up his hands to fight. The misery of life. It has carried him away from the faces on the porch. In the silence he hears from afar a neighbor woman's hammer knocking. "How are Ollie and Peggy?" he asks, his voice rough even after clearing it. Billy's parents have dropped from his sight, as the Toyota business lifted him higher in the social scale.
"About the same," Janice says. "Ollie's still at the music store. They say Peggy's gotten into causes." She turns back to her stirring.
Charlie tells Melanie, "You should book yourself on a flight to Florida when you get fed up around here."
"What's with you and Florida?" Harry asks him loudly. "She says she comes from California and you keep pushing Florida at her. There's no connection."
Charlie pulls at his spiked732 pink punch and looks like a pathetic old guy, the skin pegged733 ever tighter to the planes of his skull. "We can make a connection."
Melanie calls toward the kitchen, ` "Janice, can I be of any help?"
"No dear, thanks; it's all but done. Is everybody starving? Does anybody else want their drink freshened?"
"Why not?" Harry asks, feeling reckless. This bunch isn't going to be fun, he'll have to make his fun inside. "How about you, Charlie?"
"Forget it, champ. One's my limit. The doctors tell me even that should be a no?no, in my condition." Of Melanie he asks, "How's your Kool?Aid holding up?"
"Don't call it Kool?Aid, that's rude," Harry says, pretending to joust734. "I admire anybody of this generation who isn't polluting their system with pills and booze. Ever since Nelson got back, the sixpacks come and go in the fridge like, like coal down a chute." He feels he has said this before, recently.
"I'll get you some more," Melanie sings, and takes Charlie's glass, and Harry's too. She has no name for him, he notices. Nelson's father. Over the hill. Out of this world.
"Make mine weak," he tells her. "A g?and?t."
Ma Springer has been sitting there with thoughts of her own. She says to Stavros, "Nelson has been asking me all these questions about how the lot works, how much sales help there is, and how the salesmen are paid, and so on."
Charlie shifts his weight in his chair. "This gas crunch's got to affect car sales. People won't buy cows they can't feed. Even if so far Toyota's come along smelling pretty good."
Harry intervenes. "Bessie, there's no way we can make room for Nelson on sales without hurting Jake and Rudy. They're married men trying to feed babies on their commissions. If you want I could talk to Manny and see if he can use another kid on cleanup
"He doesn't want to work on clean?up," Janice calls sharply from the kitchen.
Ma Springer confirms, "Yes, he told me he'd like to see what he could do with sales, you know he always admired Fred so, idolized him you might say -"
"Oh come on," Harry says. "He never gave a damn about either of his grandfathers once he hit about tenth grade. Once he got onto girls and rock he thought everybody over twenty was a sap. All he wanted was to get the hell out of Brewer, and I said, O.K., here's the ticket, go to it. So what's he pussy?footing around whispering to his mother and grandmother now for?"
Melanie brings in the two men's drinks. Waitressly erect, she holds a triangulated paper napkin around the dewy base of each. Rabbit sips735 his and fords it strong when he asked for it weak. A love message, of sorts?
Ma Springer puts one hand on each of her thighs and points her elbows out, elbows all in folds like little pug dog faces. "Now Harry -"
"I know what you're going to say. You own half the company. Good for you, Bessie, I'm glad. If it'd been me instead of Fred I'd've left it all to you." He quickly turns to Melanie and says, "What they really should do with this gas crisis is bring back the trolley736 cars. You're too young to remember. They ran on tracks but the power came from electric wires overhead. Very clean. They went everywhere when I was a kid."
"Oh, I know. They still have them in San Francisco."
"Harry, what I wanted to say
"But you're not running it," he continues to his mother?in?law, "and never have, and as long as I am, Nelson, if he wants a start there, can hose down cars for Manny. I don't want him in the sales room. He has none of the right attitudes. He can't even straighten up and smile."
"I thought those were cable cars," Charlie says to Melanie.
"Oh they just have those on a few hills. Everybody keeps saying how dangerous they are, the cables snap. But the tourists expect them."
"Harry. Dinner," Janice says. She is stern. "We won't wait for Nelson any more, it's after eight."
"Sorry if I sound hard," he says to the group as they rise to go eat. "But look, even now, the kid's too rude to come home in time for dinner."
"Your own son," Janice says.
"Melanie, what do you think? What's his plan? Isn't he heading back to finish college?"
Her smile remains fixed737 but seems flaky, painted?on. "Nelson may feel," she says carefully, "that he's spent enough time at college."
"But where's his degree?" He hears his own voice in his head as shrill738, sounding trapped. "Where's his degree?" Harry repeats, hearing no answer.
Janice has lit candles on the dining table, though the July day is still so light they look wan42. She had wanted this to be nice for Charlie. Dear old Jan. As Harry walks to the table behind her he rests his eyes on what he rarely sees, the pale bared nape of her neck. In the shuffle as they take places he brushes Melanie's arm, bare also, and darts739 a look down the ripe slopes loosely concealed by the gypsy blouse. Firm. He mutters to her, "Sorry, didn't mean to put you on the spot just now. I just can't figure out what Nelson's game is."
"Oh you didn't," she answers crooningly. Ringlets fall and tremble; her cheeks flame within. As Ma Springer plods740 to her place at the head of the table, the girl peeks741 up at Harry with a glint he reads as sly and adds, "I think one factor, you know, is Nelson's becoming more security?minded."
He can't quite follow. Sounds like the kid is going to enter the Secret Service.
Chairs scrape. They wait while a dim tribal742 memory of grace flits overhead. Then Janice dips her spoon into her soup, tomato, the color of Harry's Corona. Where is it? Out in the night, with the kid at the wheel making every joint743 rattle690. They rarely sit in this room ? even with the five of them now they eat around the 'kitchen table ? and Harry is newly aware of, propped on the sideboard where the family silver is stored, tinted photos of Janice as a high?school senior with her hair brushed and rolled under in a page?boy to her shoulders, of Nelson as an infant propped with his favorite teddy bear (that had one eye) on a stagy sunbathed744 window seat of this very house, and then Nelson as himself a highschool senior, his hair almost as long as Janice's, but less brushed, looking greasy, and his grin for the cameraman lopsided, halfdefiant. In a gold frame broader than his daughter and grandson got, Fred Springer, misty745?eyed and wrinkle?free courtesy of the portrait studio's darkroom magic, stares in studied three?quarters profile at whatever it is the dead see.
Charlie asks the table, "Did you see where Nixon gave a big party at San Clemente in honor of the moon?landing anniversary? They should keep that guy around forever, as an example of what sheer gall6 can do."
"He did some good things," Ma Springer says, in that voice of hers that shows hurt, tight and dried?out, somehow. Harry is sensitive to it after all these years.
He tries to help her, to apologize if he had been rough with her over who ran the company. "He opened up China," he says.
"And what a can of worms that's turned out to be," Stavros says. "At least all those years they were hating our guts746 they didn't cost us a nickel. This party of his wasn't cheap either. Everybody was there ? Red Skelton, Buzz Aldrin."
"You know I think it broke Fred's heart," Ma Springer pronounces. "Watergate. He followed it right to the end, when he could hardly lift his head from the pillows, and he used to say to me, 'Bessie, there's never been a President who hasn't done worse. They just have it in for him because he isn't a glamour747 boy. If that had been Roosevelt or one of the Kennedys,' he'd say, `you would never have heard "boo" about Watergate.' He believed it, too.
Harry glances at the gold?framed photograph and imagines it nodded. "I believe it," he says. "Old man Springer never steered748 me wrong." Bessie glances at him to see if this is sarcasm749. He keeps his face motionless as a photograph.
"Speaking of Kennedys," Charlie puts in ? he really is talking too much, on that one Kool?Aid ? "the papers are sure giving Chappaquiddick another go?around. You wonder, how much more can they say about a guy on his way to neck who drives off a bridge instead?"
Bessie may have had a touch of sherry, too, for she is working herself up to tears. "Fred," she says, "would never settle on its being that simple. `Look at the result,' he said to me more than once. `Look at the result, and work backwards from that."' Her berry?dark eyes challenge them to do so, mysteriously. "What was the result?" This seems to be in her own voice. "The result was, a poor girl from up in the coal regions was killed."
"Oh Mother," Janice says. "Daddy just had it in for Democrats. I loved him dearly, but he was absolutely hipped750 on that."
Charlie says, "I don't know, Jan. The worst things I ever heard your father say about Roosevelt was that he tricked us into war and died with his mistress, and it turns out both are true." He looks in the candlelight after saying this like a cardsharp who has snapped down an ace19. "And what they tell us now about how Jack368 Kennedy carried on in the White House with racketeers' molls and girls right off the street Fred Springer in his wildest dreams would never have come up with." Another ace. He looks, Harry thinks, like old man Springer in a way: that hollow?templed, wellcombed look. Even the little dabs of eyebrows sticking out like toy artillery751.
Harry says, "I never understood what was so bad about Chappaquiddick. He tried to get her out." Water, flames, the tongues of God: a man is helpless.
"What was bad about it," Bessie says, "was he put her in."
"What do you think about all this, Melanie?" Harry asks, playing cozy to get Charlie's goat. "Which party do you back?"
"Oh the parties," she exclaims in a trance. "I think they're both evil." Ev?il: a word in the air. "But on Chappaquiddick a friend of mine spends every summer on the island and she says she wonders why more people don't drive off that bridge, there are no guard rails or anything. This is lovely soup," she adds to Janice.
"That spinach soup the other day was terrific," Charlie tells Melanie. "Maybe a little heavy on the nutmeg."
Janice has been smoking a cigarette and listening for a car door to slam. "Harry, could you help me clear? You might want to carve in the kitchen."
The kitchen is suffused752 with the strong, repugnant smell of roasting lamb. Harry doesn't like to be reminded that these are living things, with eyes and hearts, that we eat; he likes salted nuts, hamburger, Chinese food, mince674 pie. "You know I can't carve lamb," he says. "Nobody can. You're just having it because you think it's what Greeks eat, showing off for your old lover boy."
She hands him the carving set with the bumpy753 bone handles. "You've done it a hundred times. Just cut parallel slices perpendicular754 to the bone."
"Sounds easy. You do it if it's so fucking easy." He is thinking, stabbing someone is probably harder than the movies make it look, cutting underdone meat there's plenty of resistance, rubbery and tough. He'd rather hit her on the head with a rock, if it came to that, or that green glass egg Ma has as a knickknack in the living room.
"Listen," Janice hisses. A car door has slammed on the street. Footsteps pound on a porch, their porch, and the reluctant front door pops open with a bang. A chorus of voices around the table greet Nelson. But he keeps coming, searching for his parents, and finds them in the kitchen. "Nelson," Janice says. "We were getting worried."
The boy is panting, not with exertion755 but the shallow?lunged panting of fear. He looks small but muscular in his grape?colored tie?dyed T?shirt: a burglar dressed to shinny in a window. But caught, here, in the bright kitchen light. He avoids looking Harry in the eye. "Dad. There's been a bit of a mishap756."
"The car. I knew it."
"Yeah. The Toyota got a scrape."
"My Corona. Whaddeya mean, a scrape?"
"Nobody was hurt, don't get carried away."
"Any other car involved?"
"No, so don't worry, nobody's going to sue." The assurance is contemptuous.
"Don't get smart with me."
"O.K., O.K., Jesus."
"You drove it home?"
The boy nods.
Harry hands the knife back to Janice and leaves the kitchen to address the candlelit group left at the table ? Ma at the head, Melanie bright?eyed next to her, Charlie on Melanie's other side, his square cufflink reflecting a bit of flame. "Everybody keep calm. Just a mishap, Nelson says. Charlie, you want to come carve some lamb for me? I got to look at this."
He wants to put his hands on the boy, whether to give him a push or comfort he doesn't know; the actual touch might demonstrate which, but Nelson stays just ahead of his father's fingertips, dodging into the summer night. The streetlights have come on, and the Corona's tomato color looks evil by the poisonous sodium glow ? a hollow shade of black, its metallic lustre757 leeched758 away. Nelson in his haste has parked it illegally, the driver's side along the curb. Harry says, "This side looks fine."
"It's the other side, Dad." Nelson explains: "See Billy and I were coming back from Allenville where his girlfriend lives by this windy back road and because I knew I was getting late for supper I may have been going a little fast, I don't know, you can't go too' fast on those back roads anyway, they wind too much. And this woodchuck or whatever it was comes out in front of me and in trying to avoid it I get off the road a little and the back end slides into this telephone pole. It happened so fast, I couldn't believe it."
Rabbit has moved to the other side and by lurid759 light views the damage. The scrape had begun in the middle of the rear door and deepened over the little gas?cap door; by the time the pole reached the tail signal and the small rectangular sidelight, it had no trouble ripping them right out, the translucent plastic torn and shed like Christmas wrapping, and inches of pretty color?coded wiring exposed. The urethane bumper, so black and mat and trim, that gave Harry a small sensuous760 sensation whenever he touched the car home against the concrete parking?space divider at the place on the lot stencilled761 ANGSTROM, was pulled out from the frame. The dent even carried up into the liftback door, which would never seat exactly right again.
Nelson is chattering762, "Billy knows this kid who works in a body shop over near the bridge to West Brewer and he says you should get some real expensive rip?offplace to do the estimate and then when you get the check from the insurance company give it to him and he can do it for less. That way there'll be a profit everybody can split."
"A profit," Harry repeats numbly763.
Nails or rivets764 in the pole have left parallel longitudinal gashes765 the length of the impact depression. The chrome?and?rubber stripping has been wrenched766 loose at an angle, and behind the wheel socket167 on this side ? hooded767 with a slightly protruding768 flare677 like an eyebrow, one of the many snug Japanese details he has cherished ? a segment of side strip has vanished entirely769, leaving a chorus of tiny holes. Even the many?ribbed hubcap is dented and besmirched770. He feels his own side has taken a wound. He feels he is witnessing in evil light a crime in which he has collaborated771.
"Oh come on, Dad," Nelson is saying. "Don't make such a big deal of it. It'll cost the insurance company, not you, to get it fixed, and anyway you can get a new one for almost nothing, don't they give you a terrific discount?"
"Terrific," Rabbit says. "You just went out and smashed it up. My Corona."
"I didn't mean to, it was an accident, shit. What do you want me to do, piss blood? Get down on my knees and cry?"
"Don't bother."
"Dad, it's just a thing; you're looking like you lost your best friend."
A breeze, too high to touch them, ruffles772 the treetops and makes the streetlight shudder on the deformed773 metal. Harry sighs. "Well. How'd the woodchuck do?"
点击收听单词发音
1 par | |
n.标准,票面价值,平均数量;adj.票面的,平常的,标准的 | |
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2 kin | |
n.家族,亲属,血缘关系;adj.亲属关系的,同类的 | |
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3 mileage | |
n.里程,英里数;好处,利润 | |
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4 con | |
n.反对的观点,反对者,反对票,肺病;vt.精读,学习,默记;adv.反对地,从反面;adj.欺诈的 | |
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5 frantic | |
adj.狂乱的,错乱的,激昂的 | |
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6 gall | |
v.使烦恼,使焦躁,难堪;n.磨难 | |
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7 commonwealth | |
n.共和国,联邦,共同体 | |
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8 diesel | |
n.柴油发动机,内燃机 | |
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9 dent | |
n.凹痕,凹坑;初步进展 | |
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10 yen | |
n. 日元;热望 | |
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11 coronas | |
n.日冕,日华( corona的名词复数 ) | |
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12 corona | |
n.日冕 | |
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13 wagon | |
n.四轮马车,手推车,面包车;无盖运货列车 | |
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14 mar | |
vt.破坏,毁坏,弄糟 | |
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15 brewer | |
n. 啤酒制造者 | |
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16 eel | |
n.鳗鲡 | |
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17 herd | |
n.兽群,牧群;vt.使集中,把…赶在一起 | |
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18 payroll | |
n.工资表,在职人员名单,工薪总额 | |
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19 ace | |
n.A牌;发球得分;佼佼者;adj.杰出的 | |
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20 random | |
adj.随机的;任意的;n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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21 grooved | |
v.沟( groove的过去式和过去分词 );槽;老一套;(某种)音乐节奏 | |
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22 ram | |
(random access memory)随机存取存储器 | |
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23 ass | |
n.驴;傻瓜,蠢笨的人 | |
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24 taint | |
n.污点;感染;腐坏;v.使感染;污染 | |
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25 attic | |
n.顶楼,屋顶室 | |
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26 scrap | |
n.碎片;废料;v.废弃,报废 | |
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27 harry | |
vt.掠夺,蹂躏,使苦恼 | |
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28 Ford | |
n.浅滩,水浅可涉处;v.涉水,涉过 | |
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29 jaw | |
n.颚,颌,说教,流言蜚语;v.喋喋不休,教训 | |
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30 underneath | |
adj.在...下面,在...底下;adv.在下面 | |
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31 rouged | |
胭脂,口红( rouge的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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32 coffin | |
n.棺材,灵柩 | |
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33 valiant | |
adj.勇敢的,英勇的;n.勇士,勇敢的人 | |
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34 prancing | |
v.(马)腾跃( prance的现在分词 ) | |
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35 plow | |
n.犁,耕地,犁过的地;v.犁,费力地前进[英]plough | |
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36 steer | |
vt.驾驶,为…操舵;引导;vi.驾驶 | |
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37 steering | |
n.操舵装置 | |
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38 butt | |
n.笑柄;烟蒂;枪托;臀部;v.用头撞或顶 | |
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39 ashtray | |
n.烟灰缸 | |
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40 feats | |
功绩,伟业,技艺( feat的名词复数 ) | |
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41 plaques | |
(纪念性的)匾牌( plaque的名词复数 ); 纪念匾; 牙斑; 空斑 | |
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42 wan | |
(wide area network)广域网 | |
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43 rotary | |
adj.(运动等)旋转的;轮转的;转动的 | |
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44 trophies | |
n.(为竞赛获胜者颁发的)奖品( trophy的名词复数 );奖杯;(尤指狩猎或战争中获得的)纪念品;(用于比赛或赛跑名称)奖 | |
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45 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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46 sop | |
n.湿透的东西,懦夫;v.浸,泡,浸湿 | |
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47 preying | |
v.掠食( prey的现在分词 );掠食;折磨;(人)靠欺诈为生 | |
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48 chamber | |
n.房间,寝室;会议厅;议院;会所 | |
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49 amber | |
n.琥珀;琥珀色;adj.琥珀制的 | |
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50 bland | |
adj.淡而无味的,温和的,无刺激性的 | |
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51 gut | |
n.[pl.]胆量;内脏;adj.本能的;vt.取出内脏 | |
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52 grudgingly | |
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53 jawed | |
adj.有颌的有颚的 | |
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54 glossy | |
adj.平滑的;有光泽的 | |
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55 grill | |
n.烤架,铁格子,烤肉;v.烧,烤,严加盘问 | |
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56 receding | |
v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 );向后倾斜;自原处后退或避开别人的注视;尤指问题 | |
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57 dodging | |
n.避开,闪过,音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 );回避 | |
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58 marine | |
adj.海的;海生的;航海的;海事的;n.水兵 | |
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59 chaos | |
n.混乱,无秩序 | |
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60 slant | |
v.倾斜,倾向性地编写或报道;n.斜面,倾向 | |
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61 flickering | |
adj.闪烁的,摇曳的,一闪一闪的 | |
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62 flicker | |
vi./n.闪烁,摇曳,闪现 | |
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63 puddles | |
n.水坑, (尤指道路上的)雨水坑( puddle的名词复数 ) | |
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64 pillaging | |
v.抢劫,掠夺( pillage的现在分词 ) | |
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65 hacked | |
生气 | |
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66 aluminum | |
n.(aluminium)铝 | |
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67 battered | |
adj.磨损的;v.连续猛击;磨损 | |
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68 flattened | |
[医](水)平扁的,弄平的 | |
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69 lone | |
adj.孤寂的,单独的;唯一的 | |
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70 maple | |
n.槭树,枫树,槭木 | |
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71 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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72 ranch | |
n.大牧场,大农场 | |
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73 overflowing | |
n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的,充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
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74 grudge | |
n.不满,怨恨,妒嫉;vt.勉强给,不情愿做 | |
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75 hip | |
n.臀部,髋;屋脊 | |
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76 sardonic | |
adj.嘲笑的,冷笑的,讥讽的 | |
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77 syllabled | |
有…音节的 | |
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78 acting | |
n.演戏,行为,假装;adj.代理的,临时的,演出用的 | |
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79 tranquilly | |
adv. 宁静地 | |
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80 strap | |
n.皮带,带子;v.用带扣住,束牢;用绷带包扎 | |
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81 strapped | |
adj.用皮带捆住的,用皮带装饰的;身无分文的;缺钱;手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词);用皮带抽打;包扎;给…打绷带 | |
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82 bastards | |
私生子( bastard的名词复数 ); 坏蛋; 讨厌的事物; 麻烦事 (认为别人走运或不幸时说)家伙 | |
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83 bastard | |
n.坏蛋,混蛋;私生子 | |
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84 depreciation | |
n.价值低落,贬值,蔑视,贬低 | |
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85 ration | |
n.定量(pl.)给养,口粮;vt.定量供应 | |
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86 serene | |
adj. 安详的,宁静的,平静的 | |
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87 truce | |
n.休战,(争执,烦恼等的)缓和;v.以停战结束 | |
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88 exude | |
v.(使)流出,(使)渗出 | |
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89 prick | |
v.刺伤,刺痛,刺孔;n.刺伤,刺痛 | |
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90 cozy | |
adj.亲如手足的,密切的,暖和舒服的 | |
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91 bemoaned | |
v.为(某人或某事)抱怨( bemoan的过去式和过去分词 );悲悼;为…恸哭;哀叹 | |
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92 inventory | |
n.详细目录,存货清单 | |
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93 wholesaled | |
v.批发( wholesale的过去式和过去分词 );趸售,大规模买卖;批发(的);大规模(的) | |
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94 wholesale | |
n.批发;adv.以批发方式;vt.批发,成批出售 | |
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95 franchise | |
n.特许,特权,专营权,特许权 | |
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96 numb | |
adj.麻木的,失去感觉的;v.使麻木 | |
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97 tricky | |
adj.狡猾的,奸诈的;(工作等)棘手的,微妙的 | |
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98 eyebrow | |
n.眉毛,眉 | |
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99 eyebrows | |
眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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100 dwindled | |
v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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101 clumps | |
n.(树、灌木、植物等的)丛、簇( clump的名词复数 );(土、泥等)团;块;笨重的脚步声v.(树、灌木、植物等的)丛、簇( clump的第三人称单数 );(土、泥等)团;块;笨重的脚步声 | |
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102 charcoal | |
n.炭,木炭,生物炭 | |
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103 dab | |
v.轻触,轻拍,轻涂;n.(颜料等的)轻涂 | |
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104 dabs | |
少许( dab的名词复数 ); 是…能手; 做某事很在行; 在某方面技术熟练 | |
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105 wavy | |
adj.有波浪的,多浪的,波浪状的,波动的,不稳定的 | |
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106 tinted | |
adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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107 rim | |
n.(圆物的)边,轮缘;边界 | |
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108 tightened | |
收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 ); (使)变紧; (使)绷紧; 加紧 | |
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109 skull | |
n.头骨;颅骨 | |
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110 promising | |
adj.有希望的,有前途的 | |
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111 obituary | |
n.讣告,死亡公告;adj.死亡的 | |
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112 celebrities | |
n.(尤指娱乐界的)名人( celebrity的名词复数 );名流;名声;名誉 | |
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113 hood | |
n.头巾,兜帽,覆盖;v.罩上,以头巾覆盖 | |
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114 scraps | |
油渣 | |
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115 ooze | |
n.软泥,渗出物;vi.渗出,泄漏;vt.慢慢渗出,流露 | |
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116 refineries | |
精炼厂( refinery的名词复数 ) | |
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117 trotting | |
小跑,急走( trot的现在分词 ); 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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118 crab | |
n.螃蟹,偏航,脾气乖戾的人,酸苹果;vi.捕蟹,偏航,发牢骚;vt.使偏航,发脾气 | |
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119 confides | |
v.吐露(秘密,心事等)( confide的第三人称单数 );(向某人)吐露(隐私、秘密等) | |
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120 abashed | |
adj.窘迫的,尴尬的v.使羞愧,使局促,使窘迫( abash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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121 bucks | |
n.雄鹿( buck的名词复数 );钱;(英国十九世纪初的)花花公子;(用于某些表达方式)责任v.(马等)猛然弓背跃起( buck的第三人称单数 );抵制;猛然震荡;马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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122 hearty | |
adj.热情友好的;衷心的;尽情的,纵情的 | |
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123 harp | |
n.竖琴;天琴座 | |
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124 tune | |
n.调子;和谐,协调;v.调音,调节,调整 | |
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125 wheeze | |
n.喘息声,气喘声;v.喘息着说 | |
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126 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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127 crumpled | |
adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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128 rumple | |
v.弄皱,弄乱;n.褶纹,皱褶 | |
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129 fins | |
[医]散热片;鱼鳍;飞边;鸭掌 | |
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130 dodge | |
v.闪开,躲开,避开;n.妙计,诡计 | |
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131 virgin | |
n.处女,未婚女子;adj.未经使用的;未经开发的 | |
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132 savings | |
n.存款,储蓄 | |
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133 dwindling | |
adj.逐渐减少的v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的现在分词 ) | |
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134 galleons | |
n.大型帆船( galleon的名词复数 ) | |
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135 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
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136 syllables | |
n.音节( syllable的名词复数 ) | |
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137 twitch | |
v.急拉,抽动,痉挛,抽搐;n.扯,阵痛,痉挛 | |
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138 sloppy | |
adj.邋遢的,不整洁的 | |
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139 pinpointed | |
准确地找出或描述( pinpoint的过去式和过去分词 ); 为…准确定位 | |
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140 rattling | |
adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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141 crumbles | |
酥皮水果甜点( crumble的名词复数 ) | |
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142 contemplate | |
vt.盘算,计议;周密考虑;注视,凝视 | |
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143 momentous | |
adj.重要的,重大的 | |
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144 vat | |
n.(=value added tax)增值税,大桶 | |
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145 dodges | |
n.闪躲( dodge的名词复数 );躲避;伎俩;妙计v.闪躲( dodge的第三人称单数 );回避 | |
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146 lust | |
n.性(淫)欲;渴(欲)望;vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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147 dread | |
vt.担忧,忧虑;惧怕,不敢;n.担忧,畏惧 | |
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148 aquarium | |
n.水族馆,养鱼池,玻璃缸 | |
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149 hoisted | |
把…吊起,升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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150 squire | |
n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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151 dented | |
v.使产生凹痕( dent的过去式和过去分词 );损害;伤害;挫伤(信心、名誉等) | |
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152 milky | |
adj.牛奶的,多奶的;乳白色的 | |
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153 stiffened | |
加强的 | |
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154 crate | |
vt.(up)把…装入箱中;n.板条箱,装货箱 | |
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155 mangled | |
vt.乱砍(mangle的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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156 elongated | |
v.延长,加长( elongate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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157 sniffing | |
n.探查法v.以鼻吸气,嗅,闻( sniff的现在分词 );抽鼻子(尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气);抱怨,不以为然地说 | |
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158 shack | |
adj.简陋的小屋,窝棚 | |
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159 bespeaks | |
v.预定( bespeak的第三人称单数 );订(货);证明;预先请求 | |
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160 spiky | |
adj.长而尖的,大钉似的 | |
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161 limestone | |
n.石灰石 | |
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162 pumpkins | |
n.南瓜( pumpkin的名词复数 );南瓜的果肉,南瓜囊 | |
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163 scouting | |
守候活动,童子军的活动 | |
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164 scout | |
n.童子军,侦察员;v.侦察,搜索 | |
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165 denim | |
n.斜纹棉布;斜纹棉布裤,牛仔裤 | |
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166 freckled | |
adj.雀斑;斑点;晒斑;(使)生雀斑v.雀斑,斑点( freckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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167 socket | |
n.窝,穴,孔,插座,插口 | |
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168 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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169 cork | |
n.软木,软木塞 | |
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170 straps | |
n.带子( strap的名词复数 );挎带;肩带;背带v.用皮带捆扎( strap的第三人称单数 );用皮带抽打;包扎;给…打绷带 | |
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171 bruised | |
[医]青肿的,瘀紫的 | |
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172 sable | |
n.黑貂;adj.黑色的 | |
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173 auto | |
n.(=automobile)(口语)汽车 | |
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174 sip | |
v.小口地喝,抿,呷;n.一小口的量 | |
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175 bug | |
n.虫子;故障;窃听器;vt.纠缠;装窃听器 | |
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176 stolidly | |
adv.迟钝地,神经麻木地 | |
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177 shuffle | |
n.拖著脚走,洗纸牌;v.拖曳,慢吞吞地走 | |
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178 automobile | |
n.汽车,机动车 | |
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179 suave | |
adj.温和的;柔和的;文雅的 | |
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180 quartz | |
n.石英 | |
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181 frankly | |
adv.坦白地,直率地;坦率地说 | |
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182 mentality | |
n.心理,思想,脑力 | |
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183 pivoting | |
n.绕轴旋转,绕公共法线旋转v.(似)在枢轴上转动( pivot的现在分词 );把…放在枢轴上;以…为核心,围绕(主旨)展开 | |
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184 paternal | |
adj.父亲的,像父亲的,父系的,父方的 | |
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185 brats | |
n.调皮捣蛋的孩子( brat的名词复数 ) | |
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186 nostalgia | |
n.怀乡病,留恋过去,怀旧 | |
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187 irritation | |
n.激怒,恼怒,生气 | |
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188 shafts | |
n.轴( shaft的名词复数 );(箭、高尔夫球棒等的)杆;通风井;一阵(疼痛、害怕等) | |
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189 grunts | |
(猪等)作呼噜声( grunt的第三人称单数 ); (指人)发出类似的哼声; 咕哝着说; 石鲈 | |
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190 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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191 walnut | |
n.胡桃,胡桃木,胡桃色,茶色 | |
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192 cubicle | |
n.大房间中隔出的小室 | |
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193 greasy | |
adj. 多脂的,油脂的 | |
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194 cavern | |
n.洞穴,大山洞 | |
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195 sneak | |
vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝);偷偷摸摸做;n.潜行;adj.暗中进行 | |
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196 demon | |
n.魔鬼,恶魔 | |
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197 dealer | |
n.商人,贩子 | |
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198 rusty | |
adj.生锈的;锈色的;荒废了的 | |
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199 ominous | |
adj.不祥的,不吉的,预兆的,预示的 | |
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200 impatience | |
n.不耐烦,急躁 | |
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201 lighting | |
n.照明,光线的明暗,舞台灯光 | |
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202 reassures | |
v.消除恐惧或疑虑,恢复信心( reassure的第三人称单数 ) | |
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203 peek | |
vi.偷看,窥视;n.偷偷的一看,一瞥 | |
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204 spunk | |
n.勇气,胆量 | |
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205 tugs | |
n.猛拉( tug的名词复数 );猛拖;拖船v.用力拉,使劲拉,猛扯( tug的第三人称单数 ) | |
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206 bum | |
n.臀部;流浪汉,乞丐;vt.乞求,乞讨 | |
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207 backwards | |
adv.往回地,向原处,倒,相反,前后倒置地 | |
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208 itching | |
adj.贪得的,痒的,渴望的v.发痒( itch的现在分词 ) | |
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209 complement | |
n.补足物,船上的定员;补语;vt.补充,补足 | |
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210 panes | |
窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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211 luminous | |
adj.发光的,发亮的;光明的;明白易懂的;有启发的 | |
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212 catching | |
adj.易传染的,有魅力的,迷人的,接住 | |
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213 retail | |
v./n.零售;adv.以零售价格 | |
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214 outlets | |
n.出口( outlet的名词复数 );经销店;插座;廉价经销店 | |
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215 outfits | |
n.全套装备( outfit的名词复数 );一套服装;集体;组织v.装备,配置设备,供给服装( outfit的第三人称单数 ) | |
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216 outfit | |
n.(为特殊用途的)全套装备,全套服装 | |
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217 stump | |
n.残株,烟蒂,讲演台;v.砍断,蹒跚而走 | |
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218 beckoning | |
adj.引诱人的,令人心动的v.(用头或手的动作)示意,召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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219 shrouded | |
v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 );保密 | |
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220 automobiles | |
n.汽车( automobile的名词复数 ) | |
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221 glide | |
n./v.溜,滑行;(时间)消逝 | |
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222 glided | |
v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 );掠过;(鸟或飞机 ) 滑翔 | |
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223 barricade | |
n.路障,栅栏,障碍;vt.设路障挡住 | |
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224 shrouds | |
n.裹尸布( shroud的名词复数 );寿衣;遮蔽物;覆盖物v.隐瞒( shroud的第三人称单数 );保密 | |
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225 crimson | |
n./adj.深(绯)红色(的);vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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226 haze | |
n.霾,烟雾;懵懂,迷糊;vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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227 lesser | |
adj.次要的,较小的;adv.较小地,较少地 | |
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228 reveller | |
n.摆设酒宴者,饮酒狂欢者 | |
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229 silhouette | |
n.黑色半身侧面影,影子,轮廓;v.描绘成侧面影,照出影子来,仅仅显出轮廓 | |
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230 vapor | |
n.蒸汽,雾气 | |
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231 mingle | |
vt.使混合,使相混;vi.混合起来;相交往 | |
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232 mingled | |
混合,混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 ); 混进,与…交往[联系] | |
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233 thigh | |
n.大腿;股骨 | |
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234 vanilla | |
n.香子兰,香草 | |
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235 prods | |
n.刺,戳( prod的名词复数 );刺激;促使;(用手指或尖物)戳v.刺,戳( prod的第三人称单数 );刺激;促使;(用手指或尖物)戳 | |
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236 intersection | |
n.交集,十字路口,交叉点;[计算机] 交集 | |
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237 swerves | |
n.(使)改变方向,改变目的( swerve的名词复数 )v.(使)改变方向,改变目的( swerve的第三人称单数 ) | |
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238 dealers | |
n.商人( dealer的名词复数 );贩毒者;毒品贩子;发牌者 | |
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239 sneaked | |
v.潜行( sneak的过去式和过去分词 );偷偷溜走;(儿童向成人)打小报告;告状 | |
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240 winding | |
n.绕,缠,绕组,线圈 | |
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241 crest | |
n.顶点;饰章;羽冠;vt.达到顶点;vi.形成浪尖 | |
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242 vibration | |
n.颤动,振动;摆动 | |
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243 fulfills | |
v.履行(诺言等)( fulfill的第三人称单数 );执行(命令等);达到(目的);使结束 | |
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244 gouge | |
v.凿;挖出;n.半圆凿;凿孔;欺诈 | |
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245 marvels | |
n.奇迹( marvel的名词复数 );令人惊奇的事物(或事例);不平凡的成果;成就v.惊奇,对…感到惊奇( marvel的第三人称单数 ) | |
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246 lark | |
n.云雀,百灵鸟;n.嬉戏,玩笑;vi.嬉戏 | |
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247 warily | |
adv.留心地 | |
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248 deteriorated | |
恶化,变坏( deteriorate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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249 casually | |
adv.漠不关心地,无动于衷地,不负责任地 | |
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250 giggle | |
n.痴笑,咯咯地笑;v.咯咯地笑着说 | |
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251 giggles | |
n.咯咯的笑( giggle的名词复数 );傻笑;玩笑;the giggles 止不住的格格笑v.咯咯地笑( giggle的第三人称单数 ) | |
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252 elusive | |
adj.难以表达(捉摸)的;令人困惑的;逃避的 | |
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253 insufficient | |
adj.(for,of)不足的,不够的 | |
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254 gaily | |
adv.欢乐地,高兴地 | |
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255 pilferage | |
n.行窃,偷盗;v.偷窃 | |
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256 discrepancies | |
n.差异,不符合(之处),不一致(之处)( discrepancy的名词复数 ) | |
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257 burrows | |
n.地洞( burrow的名词复数 )v.挖掘(洞穴),挖洞( burrow的第三人称单数 );翻寻 | |
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258 alignment | |
n.队列;结盟,联合 | |
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259 spotted | |
adj.有斑点的,斑纹的,弄污了的 | |
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260 defensive | |
adj.防御的;防卫的;防守的 | |
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261 lettuce | |
n.莴苣;生菜 | |
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262 screech | |
n./v.尖叫;(发出)刺耳的声音 | |
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263 friction | |
n.摩擦,摩擦力 | |
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264 desktop | |
n.桌面管理系统程序;台式 | |
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265 subside | |
vi.平静,平息;下沉,塌陷,沉降 | |
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266 bugs | |
adj.疯狂的,发疯的n.窃听器( bug的名词复数 );病菌;虫子;[计算机](制作软件程序所产生的意料不到的)错误 | |
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267 vehement | |
adj.感情强烈的;热烈的;(人)有强烈感情的 | |
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268 weird | |
adj.古怪的,离奇的;怪诞的,神秘而可怕的 | |
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269 weirder | |
怪诞的( weird的比较级 ); 神秘而可怕的; 超然的; 古怪的 | |
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270 alcoholic | |
adj.(含)酒精的,由酒精引起的;n.酗酒者 | |
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271 vegetarian | |
n.素食者;adj.素食的 | |
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272 frustrate | |
v.使失望;使沮丧;使厌烦 | |
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273 tickled | |
(使)发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 ); (使)愉快,逗乐 | |
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274 decrepit | |
adj.衰老的,破旧的 | |
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275 lengthening | |
(时间或空间)延长,伸长( lengthen的现在分词 ); 加长 | |
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276 ordained | |
v.任命(某人)为牧师( ordain的过去式和过去分词 );授予(某人)圣职;(上帝、法律等)命令;判定 | |
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277 tinkle | |
vi.叮当作响;n.叮当声 | |
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278 mellow | |
adj.柔和的;熟透的;v.变柔和;(使)成熟 | |
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279 parental | |
adj.父母的;父的;母的 | |
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280 upwards | |
adv.向上,在更高处...以上 | |
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281 incentives | |
激励某人做某事的事物( incentive的名词复数 ); 刺激; 诱因; 动机 | |
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282 digit | |
n.零到九的阿拉伯数字,手指,脚趾 | |
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283 earnings | |
n.工资收人;利润,利益,所得 | |
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284 reprieve | |
n.暂缓执行(死刑);v.缓期执行;给…带来缓解 | |
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285 killing | |
n.巨额利润;突然赚大钱,发大财 | |
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286 overalls | |
n.(复)工装裤;长罩衣 | |
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287 killer | |
n.杀人者,杀人犯,杀手,屠杀者 | |
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288 advertising | |
n.广告业;广告活动 a.广告的;广告业务的 | |
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289 jumble | |
vt.使混乱,混杂;n.混乱;杂乱的一堆 | |
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290 specifications | |
n.规格;载明;详述;(产品等的)说明书;说明书( specification的名词复数 );详细的计划书;载明;详述 | |
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291 deduct | |
vt.扣除,减去 | |
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292 metallic | |
adj.金属的;金属制的;含金属的;产金属的;像金属的 | |
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293 copper | |
n.铜;铜币;铜器;adj.铜(制)的;(紫)铜色的 | |
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294 snug | |
adj.温暖舒适的,合身的,安全的;v.使整洁干净,舒适地依靠,紧贴;n.(英)酒吧里的私房 | |
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295 tilt | |
v.(使)倾侧;(使)倾斜;n.倾侧;倾斜 | |
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296 adjustable | |
adj.可调整的,可校准的 | |
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297 gliding | |
v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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298 ballroom | |
n.舞厅 | |
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299 throbbing | |
a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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300 electrified | |
v.使电气化( electrify的过去式和过去分词 );使兴奋 | |
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301 goof | |
v.弄糟;闲混;n.呆瓜 | |
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302 goofing | |
v.弄糟( goof的现在分词 );混;打发时间;出大错 | |
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303 shimmery | |
adj.微微发亮的 | |
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304 anonymous | |
adj.无名的;匿名的;无特色的 | |
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305 liar | |
n.说谎的人 | |
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306 obsolete | |
adj.已废弃的,过时的 | |
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307 slain | |
杀死,宰杀,杀戮( slay的过去分词 ); (slay的过去分词) | |
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308 formerly | |
adv.从前,以前 | |
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309 alleged | |
a.被指控的,嫌疑的 | |
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310 purported | |
adj.传说的,谣传的v.声称是…,(装得)像是…的样子( purport的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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311 provocation | |
n.激怒,刺激,挑拨,挑衅的事物,激怒的原因 | |
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312 violations | |
违反( violation的名词复数 ); 冒犯; 违反(行为、事例); 强奸 | |
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313 sanitation | |
n.公共卫生,环境卫生,卫生设备 | |
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314 abrasive | |
adj.使表面磨损的;粗糙的;恼人的 | |
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315 lieutenant | |
n.陆军中尉,海军上尉;代理官员,副职官员 | |
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316 withdrawn | |
vt.收回;使退出;vi.撤退,退出 | |
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317 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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318 foretold | |
v.预言,预示( foretell的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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319 gleaning | |
n.拾落穗,拾遗,落穗v.一点点地收集(资料、事实)( glean的现在分词 );(收割后)拾穗 | |
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320 discomfort | |
n.不舒服,不安,难过,困难,不方便 | |
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321 descended | |
a.为...后裔的,出身于...的 | |
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322 inordinate | |
adj.无节制的;过度的 | |
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323 ridge | |
n.山脊;鼻梁;分水岭 | |
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324 residential | |
adj.提供住宿的;居住的;住宅的 | |
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325 sector | |
n.部门,部分;防御地段,防区;扇形 | |
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326 expended | |
v.花费( expend的过去式和过去分词 );使用(钱等)做某事;用光;耗尽 | |
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327 scrolling | |
n.卷[滚]动法,上下换行v.(电脑屏幕上)从上到下移动(资料等),卷页( scroll的现在分词 );(似卷轴般)卷起;(像展开卷轴般地)将文字显示于屏幕 | |
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328 teeming | |
adj.丰富的v.充满( teem的现在分词 );到处都是;(指水、雨等)暴降;倾注 | |
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329 rusting | |
n.生锈v.(使)生锈( rust的现在分词 ) | |
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330 dagger | |
n.匕首,短剑,剑号 | |
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331 parlor | |
n.店铺,营业室;会客室,客厅 | |
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332 parlors | |
客厅( parlor的名词复数 ); 起居室; (旅馆中的)休息室; (通常用来构成合成词)店 | |
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333 awning | |
n.遮阳篷;雨篷 | |
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334 triangular | |
adj.三角(形)的,三者间的 | |
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335 grid | |
n.高压输电线路网;地图坐标方格;格栅 | |
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336 gees | |
n.(美俚)一千元(gee的复数形式)v.驭马快走或向右(gee的第三人称单数形式) | |
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337 amplified | |
放大,扩大( amplify的过去式和过去分词 ); 增强; 详述 | |
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338 whining | |
n. 抱怨,牢骚 v. 哭诉,发牢骚 | |
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339 hog | |
n.猪;馋嘴贪吃的人;vt.把…占为己有,独占 | |
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340 hogs | |
n.(尤指喂肥供食用的)猪( hog的名词复数 );(供食用的)阉公猪;彻底地做某事;自私的或贪婪的人 | |
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341 brook | |
n.小河,溪;v.忍受,容让 | |
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342 ginger | |
n.姜,精力,淡赤黄色;adj.淡赤黄色的;vt.使活泼,使有生气 | |
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343 sag | |
v.下垂,下跌,消沉;n.下垂,下跌,凹陷,[航海]随风漂流 | |
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344 vein | |
n.血管,静脉;叶脉,纹理;情绪;vt.使成脉络 | |
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345 genes | |
n.基因( gene的名词复数 ) | |
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346 bloody | |
adj.非常的的;流血的;残忍的;adv.很;vt.血染 | |
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347 vertical | |
adj.垂直的,顶点的,纵向的;n.垂直物,垂直的位置 | |
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348 pushy | |
adj.固执己见的,一意孤行的 | |
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349 lackadaisical | |
adj.无精打采的,无兴趣的;adv.无精打采地,不决断地 | |
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350 locust | |
n.蝗虫;洋槐,刺槐 | |
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351 pinnacle | |
n.尖塔,尖顶,山峰;(喻)顶峰 | |
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352 slit | |
n.狭长的切口;裂缝;vt.切开,撕裂 | |
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353 gravel | |
n.砂跞;砂砾层;结石 | |
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354 turreted | |
a.(像炮塔般)旋转式的 | |
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355 investigation | |
n.调查,调查研究 | |
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356 investigations | |
(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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357 acquitted | |
宣判…无罪( acquit的过去式和过去分词 ); 使(自己)作出某种表现 | |
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358 conspiring | |
密谋( conspire的现在分词 ); 搞阴谋; (事件等)巧合; 共同导致 | |
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359 pompous | |
adj.傲慢的,自大的;夸大的;豪华的 | |
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360 defendant | |
n.被告;adj.处于被告地位的 | |
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361 disinterested | |
adj.不关心的,不感兴趣的 | |
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362 misery | |
n.痛苦,苦恼,苦难;悲惨的境遇,贫苦 | |
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363 foul | |
adj.污秽的;邪恶的;v.弄脏;妨害;犯规;n.犯规 | |
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364 borough | |
n.享有自治权的市镇;(英)自治市镇 | |
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365 steers | |
n.阉公牛,肉用公牛( steer的名词复数 )v.驾驶( steer的第三人称单数 );操纵;控制;引导 | |
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366 granite | |
adj.花岗岩,花岗石 | |
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367 obliquely | |
adv.斜; 倾斜; 间接; 不光明正大 | |
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368 jack | |
n.插座,千斤顶,男人;v.抬起,提醒,扛举;n.(Jake)杰克 | |
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369 guttering | |
n.用于建排水系统的材料;沟状切除术;开沟 | |
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370 smoldering | |
v.用文火焖烧,熏烧,慢燃( smolder的现在分词 ) | |
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371 slate | |
n.板岩,石板,石片,石板色,候选人名单;adj.暗蓝灰色的,含板岩的;vt.用石板覆盖,痛打,提名,预订 | |
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372 crammed | |
adj.塞满的,挤满的;大口地吃;快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满;填入;临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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373 alley | |
n.小巷,胡同;小径,小路 | |
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374 grit | |
n.沙粒,决心,勇气;v.下定决心,咬紧牙关 | |
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375 convertible | |
adj.可改变的,可交换,同意义的;n.有活动摺篷的汽车 | |
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376 curb | |
n.场外证券市场,场外交易;vt.制止,抑制 | |
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377 peppermint | |
n.薄荷,薄荷油,薄荷糖 | |
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378 pepperminty | |
薄荷; 薄荷糖; 薄荷油 | |
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379 tonics | |
n.滋补品( tonic的名词复数 );主音;奎宁水;浊音 | |
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380 savage | |
adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
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381 zinc | |
n.锌;vt.在...上镀锌 | |
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382 oxide | |
n.氧化物 | |
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383 miraculously | |
ad.奇迹般地 | |
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384 pungent | |
adj.(气味、味道)刺激性的,辛辣的;尖锐的 | |
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385 mutual | |
adj.相互的,彼此的;共同的,共有的 | |
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386 adhesively | |
黏附地,胶着地 | |
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387 compensate | |
vt.补偿,赔偿;酬报 vi.弥补;补偿;抵消 | |
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388 reigns | |
n.君主的统治( reign的名词复数 );君主统治时期;任期;当政期 | |
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389 stark | |
adj.荒凉的;严酷的;完全的;adv.完全地 | |
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390 hunched | |
(常指因寒冷、生病或愁苦)耸肩弓身的,伏首前倾的 | |
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391 racing | |
n.竞赛,赛马;adj.竞赛用的,赛马用的 | |
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392 slanted | |
有偏见的; 倾斜的 | |
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393 scrawled | |
乱涂,潦草地写( scrawl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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394 scrunched | |
v.发出喀嚓声( scrunch的过去式和过去分词 );蜷缩;压;挤压 | |
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395 beckons | |
v.(用头或手的动作)示意,召唤( beckon的第三人称单数 ) | |
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396 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
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397 puritanical | |
adj.极端拘谨的;道德严格的 | |
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398 bliss | |
n.狂喜,福佑,天赐的福 | |
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399 blurred | |
v.(使)变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 );(使)难以区分;模模糊糊;迷离 | |
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400 sneaking | |
a.秘密的,不公开的 | |
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401 arrogant | |
adj.傲慢的,自大的 | |
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402 flinching | |
v.(因危险和痛苦)退缩,畏惧( flinch的现在分词 ) | |
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403 shudder | |
v.战粟,震动,剧烈地摇晃;n.战粟,抖动 | |
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404 groans | |
n.呻吟,叹息( groan的名词复数 );呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 );发牢骚;抱怨;受苦 | |
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405 hospitable | |
adj.好客的;宽容的;有利的,适宜的 | |
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406 wry | |
adj.讽刺的;扭曲的 | |
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407 thump | |
v.重击,砰然地响;n.重击,重击声 | |
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408 thumping | |
adj.重大的,巨大的;重击的;尺码大的;极好的adv.极端地;非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词);狠打;怦怦地跳;全力支持 | |
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409 lamely | |
一瘸一拐地,不完全地 | |
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410 puffs | |
n.吸( puff的名词复数 );(烟斗或香烟的)一吸;一缕(烟、蒸汽等);(呼吸或风的)呼v.使喷出( puff的第三人称单数 );喷着汽(或烟)移动;吹嘘;吹捧 | |
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411 idiotic | |
adj.白痴的 | |
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412 judgment | |
n.审判;判断力,识别力,看法,意见 | |
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413 glides | |
n.滑行( glide的名词复数 );滑音;音渡;过渡音v.滑动( glide的第三人称单数 );掠过;(鸟或飞机 ) 滑翔 | |
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414 colander | |
n.滤器,漏勺 | |
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415 notch | |
n.(V字形)槽口,缺口,等级 | |
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416 merge | |
v.(使)结合,(使)合并,(使)合为一体 | |
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417 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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418 clatter | |
v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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419 rhythmic | |
adj.有节奏的,有韵律的 | |
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420 gutters | |
(路边)排水沟( gutter的名词复数 ); 阴沟; (屋顶的)天沟; 贫贱的境地 | |
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421 twilight | |
n.暮光,黄昏;暮年,晚期,衰落时期 | |
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422 tangle | |
n.纠缠;缠结;混乱;v.(使)缠绕;变乱 | |
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423 collapse | |
vi.累倒;昏倒;倒塌;塌陷 | |
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424 pulpy | |
果肉状的,多汁的,柔软的; 烂糊; 稀烂 | |
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425 docilely | |
adv.容易教地,易驾驶地,驯服地 | |
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426 propped | |
支撑,支持,维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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427 undoubtedly | |
adv.确实地,无疑地 | |
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428 apprehensiveness | |
忧虑感,领悟力 | |
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429 texture | |
n.(织物)质地;(材料)构造;结构;肌理 | |
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430 dryer | |
n.干衣机,干燥剂 | |
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431 vista | |
n.远景,深景,展望,回想 | |
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432 scent | |
n.气味,香味,香水,线索,嗅觉;v.嗅,发觉 | |
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433 villas | |
别墅,公馆( villa的名词复数 ); (城郊)住宅 | |
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434 wispy | |
adj.模糊的;纤细的 | |
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435 cedar | |
n.雪松,香柏(木) | |
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436 beetle | |
n.甲虫,近视眼的人 | |
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437 conspicuous | |
adj.明眼的,惹人注目的;炫耀的,摆阔气的 | |
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438 cuticle | |
n.表皮 | |
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439 iridescent | |
adj.彩虹色的,闪色的 | |
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440 sluggishly | |
adv.懒惰地;缓慢地 | |
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441 resentment | |
n.怨愤,忿恨 | |
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442 condescended | |
屈尊,俯就( condescend的过去式和过去分词 ); 故意表示和蔼可亲 | |
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443 lurch | |
n.突然向前或旁边倒;v.蹒跚而行 | |
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444 coordination | |
n.协调,协作 | |
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445 translucent | |
adj.半透明的;透明的 | |
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446 fabric | |
n.织物,织品,布;构造,结构,组织 | |
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447 neutrons | |
n.中子( neutron的名词复数 ) | |
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448 eastward | |
adv.向东;adj.向东的;n.东方,东部 | |
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449 vessel | |
n.船舶;容器,器皿;管,导管,血管 | |
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450 underlying | |
adj.在下面的,含蓄的,潜在的 | |
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451 permanently | |
adv.永恒地,永久地,固定不变地 | |
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452 instinctive | |
adj.(出于)本能的;直觉的;(出于)天性的 | |
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453 virtues | |
美德( virtue的名词复数 ); 德行; 优点; 长处 | |
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454 slivers | |
(切割或断裂下来的)薄长条,碎片( sliver的名词复数 ) | |
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455 intrudes | |
v.侵入,侵扰,打扰( intrude的第三人称单数 );把…强加于 | |
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456 animation | |
n.活泼,兴奋,卡通片/动画片的制作 | |
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457 awry | |
adj.扭曲的,错的 | |
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458 glaze | |
v.因疲倦、疲劳等指眼睛变得呆滞,毫无表情 | |
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459 aged | |
adj.年老的,陈年的 | |
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460 insistence | |
n.坚持;强调;坚决主张 | |
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461 slurred | |
含糊地说出( slur的过去式和过去分词 ); 含糊地发…的声; 侮辱; 连唱 | |
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462 crouches | |
n.蹲着的姿势( crouch的名词复数 )v.屈膝,蹲伏( crouch的第三人称单数 ) | |
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463 belly | |
n.肚子,腹部;(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分,膛 | |
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464 frail | |
adj.身体虚弱的;易损坏的 | |
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465 ribs | |
n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 );(船或屋顶等的)肋拱;肋骨状的东西;(织物的)凸条花纹 | |
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466 spine | |
n.脊柱,脊椎;(动植物的)刺;书脊 | |
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467 fumbling | |
n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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468 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
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469 commotion | |
n.骚动,动乱 | |
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470 importunate | |
adj.强求的;纠缠不休的 | |
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471 eyelids | |
n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 );眼睛也不眨一下;不露声色;面不改色 | |
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472 apparition | |
n.幽灵,神奇的现象 | |
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473 erect | |
n./v.树立,建立,使竖立;adj.直立的,垂直的 | |
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474 melancholy | |
n.忧郁,愁思;adj.令人感伤(沮丧)的,忧郁的 | |
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475 burrowing | |
v.挖掘(洞穴),挖洞( burrow的现在分词 );翻寻 | |
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476 drowsy | |
adj.昏昏欲睡的,令人发困的 | |
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477 rummaging | |
翻找,搜寻( rummage的现在分词 ); 海关检查 | |
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478 dilution | |
n.稀释,淡化 | |
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479 Forsaken | |
adj. 被遗忘的, 被抛弃的 动词forsake的过去分词 | |
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480 secrecy | |
n.秘密,保密,隐蔽 | |
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481 algebra | |
n.代数学 | |
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482 elastic | |
n.橡皮圈,松紧带;adj.有弹性的;灵活的 | |
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483 salmon | |
n.鲑,大马哈鱼,橙红色的 | |
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484 momentum | |
n.动力,冲力,势头;动量 | |
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485 glimmers | |
n.微光,闪光( glimmer的名词复数 )v.发闪光,发微光( glimmer的第三人称单数 ) | |
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486 beech | |
n.山毛榉;adj.山毛榉的 | |
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487 outrage | |
n.暴行,侮辱,愤怒;vt.凌辱,激怒 | |
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488 yearning | |
a.渴望的;向往的;怀念的 | |
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489 lavatory | |
n.盥洗室,厕所 | |
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490 tugged | |
v.用力拉,使劲拉,猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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491 ardor | |
n.热情,狂热 | |
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492 hisses | |
嘶嘶声( hiss的名词复数 ) | |
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493 hiss | |
v.发出嘶嘶声;发嘘声表示不满 | |
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494 caresses | |
爱抚,抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
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495 spherical | |
adj.球形的;球面的 | |
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496 nibbles | |
vt.& vi.啃,一点一点地咬(nibble的第三人称单数形式) | |
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497 exalted | |
adj.(地位等)高的,崇高的;尊贵的,高尚的 | |
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498 guilt | |
n.犯罪;内疚;过失,罪责 | |
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499 abdomen | |
n.腹,下腹(胸部到腿部的部分) | |
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500 inert | |
adj.无活动能力的,惰性的;迟钝的 | |
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501 penetrates | |
v.穿过( penetrate的第三人称单数 );刺入;了解;渗透 | |
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502 versus | |
prep.以…为对手,对;与…相比之下 | |
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503 crease | |
n.折缝,褶痕,皱褶;v.(使)起皱 | |
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504 ridges | |
n.脊( ridge的名词复数 );山脊;脊状突起;大气层的)高压脊 | |
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505 lulled | |
vt.使镇静,使安静(lull的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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506 displeased | |
a.不快的 | |
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507 strand | |
vt.使(船)搁浅,使(某人)困于(某地) | |
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508 stranded | |
a.搁浅的,进退两难的 | |
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509 punctured | |
v.在(某物)上穿孔( puncture的过去式和过去分词 );刺穿(某物);削弱(某人的傲气、信心等);泄某人的气 | |
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510 sifted | |
v.筛( sift的过去式和过去分词 );筛滤;细查;详审 | |
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511 flicked | |
(尤指用手指或手快速地)轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 ); (用…)轻挥; (快速地)按开关; 向…笑了一下(或瞥了一眼等) | |
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512 delicacy | |
n.精致,细微,微妙,精良;美味,佳肴 | |
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513 climax | |
n.顶点;高潮;v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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514 buddy | |
n.(美口)密友,伙伴 | |
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515 locker | |
n.更衣箱,储物柜,冷藏室,上锁的人 | |
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516 brass | |
n.黄铜;黄铜器,铜管乐器 | |
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517 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
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518 quaint | |
adj.古雅的,离奇有趣的,奇怪的 | |
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519 creases | |
(使…)起折痕,弄皱( crease的第三人称单数 ); (皮肤)皱起,使起皱纹 | |
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520 unnatural | |
adj.不自然的;反常的 | |
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521 unnaturally | |
adv.违反习俗地;不自然地;勉强地;不近人情地 | |
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522 minimal | |
adj.尽可能少的,最小的 | |
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523 cleft | |
n.裂缝;adj.裂开的 | |
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524 jewelry | |
n.(jewllery)(总称)珠宝 | |
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525 pickle | |
n.腌汁,泡菜;v.腌,泡 | |
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526 limbo | |
n.地狱的边缘;监狱 | |
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527 jaunty | |
adj.愉快的,满足的;adv.心满意足地,洋洋得意地;n.心满意足;洋洋得意 | |
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528 rimmed | |
adj.有边缘的,有框的v.沿…边缘滚动;给…镶边 | |
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529 lathe | |
n.车床,陶器,镟床 | |
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530 trampled | |
踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 ); 践踏; 无视; 侵犯 | |
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531 overview | |
n.概观,概述 | |
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532 bumper | |
n.(汽车上的)保险杠;adj.特大的,丰盛的 | |
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533 statistic | |
n.统计量;adj.统计的,统计学的 | |
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534 marvelled | |
v.惊奇,对…感到惊奇( marvel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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535 entails | |
使…成为必要( entail的第三人称单数 ); 需要; 限定继承; 使必需 | |
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536 sopping | |
adj. 浑身湿透的 动词sop的现在分词形式 | |
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537 slings | |
抛( sling的第三人称单数 ); 吊挂; 遣送; 押往 | |
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538 pimples | |
n.丘疹,粉刺,小脓疱( pimple的名词复数 ) | |
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539 thighs | |
n.股,大腿( thigh的名词复数 );食用的鸡(等的)腿 | |
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540 gasping | |
adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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541 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
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542 flail | |
v.用连枷打;击打;n.连枷(脱粒用的工具) | |
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543 skulls | |
颅骨( skull的名词复数 ); 脑袋; 脑子; 脑瓜 | |
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544 swell | |
vi.膨胀,肿胀;增长,增强 | |
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545 bogeys | |
n.妖怪,可怕的人(物)( bogey的名词复数 )v.妖怪,可怕的人(物)( bogey的第三人称单数 ) | |
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546 suffuses | |
v.(指颜色、水气等)弥漫于,布满( suffuse的第三人称单数 ) | |
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547 limpid | |
adj.清澈的,透明的 | |
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548 omnipotence | |
n.全能,万能,无限威力 | |
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549 immortality | |
n.不死,不朽 | |
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550 scintillating | |
adj.才气横溢的,闪闪发光的; 闪烁的 | |
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551 metropolitan | |
adj.大城市的,大都会的 | |
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552 burgeoning | |
adj.迅速成长的,迅速发展的v.发芽,抽枝( burgeon的现在分词 );迅速发展;发(芽),抽(枝) | |
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553 wilderness | |
n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等,荒漠 | |
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554 hawk | |
n.鹰,骗子;鹰派成员 | |
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555 wrought | |
v.引起;以…原料制作;运转;adj.制造的 | |
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556 secluded | |
adj.与世隔绝的;隐退的;偏僻的v.使隔开,使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
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557 immature | |
adj.未成熟的,发育未全的,未充分发展的 | |
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558 cardinals | |
红衣主教( cardinal的名词复数 ); 红衣凤头鸟(见于北美,雄鸟为鲜红色); 基数 | |
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559 cleansed | |
弄干净,清洗( cleanse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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560 dearth | |
n.缺乏,粮食不足,饥谨 | |
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561 abruptly | |
adv.突然地,出其不意地 | |
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562 repose | |
v.(使)休息;n.安息 | |
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563 agitates | |
搅动( agitate的第三人称单数 ); 激怒; 使焦虑不安; (尤指为法律、社会状况的改变而)激烈争论 | |
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564 butts | |
笑柄( butt的名词复数 ); (武器或工具的)粗大的一端; 屁股; 烟蒂 | |
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565 judiciously | |
adv.明断地,明智而审慎地 | |
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566 pokes | |
v.伸出( poke的第三人称单数 );戳出;拨弄;与(某人)性交 | |
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567 creased | |
(使…)起折痕,弄皱( crease的过去式和过去分词 ); (皮肤)皱起,使起皱纹; 皱皱巴巴 | |
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568 turquoise | |
n.绿宝石;adj.蓝绿色的 | |
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569 lighter | |
n.打火机,点火器;驳船;v.用驳船运送;light的比较级 | |
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570 basking | |
v.晒太阳,取暖( bask的现在分词 );对…感到乐趣;因他人的功绩而出名;仰仗…的余泽 | |
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571 tilting | |
倾斜,倾卸 | |
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572 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
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573 jersey | |
n.运动衫 | |
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574 percolating | |
n.渗透v.滤( percolate的现在分词 );渗透;(思想等)渗透;渗入 | |
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575 coax | |
v.哄诱,劝诱,用诱哄得到,诱取 | |
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576 squints | |
斜视症( squint的名词复数 ); 瞥 | |
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577 defense | |
n.防御,保卫;[pl.]防务工事;辩护,答辩 | |
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578 caribou | |
n.北美驯鹿 | |
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579 rambles | |
(无目的地)漫游( ramble的第三人称单数 ); (喻)漫谈; 扯淡; 长篇大论 | |
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580 skier | |
n.滑雪运动员 | |
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581 ruminate | |
v.反刍;沉思 | |
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582 distressing | |
a.使人痛苦的 | |
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583 glistening | |
adj.闪耀的,反光的v.湿物闪耀,闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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584 hips | |
abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯,耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 );[建筑学]屋脊;臀围(尺寸);臀部…的 | |
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585 shrugs | |
n.耸肩(以表示冷淡,怀疑等)( shrug的名词复数 ) | |
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586 defiance | |
n.挑战,挑衅,蔑视,违抗 | |
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587 softens | |
(使)变软( soften的第三人称单数 ); 缓解打击; 缓和; 安慰 | |
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588 remains | |
n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
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589 transparent | |
adj.明显的,无疑的;透明的 | |
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590 bins | |
n.大储藏箱( bin的名词复数 );宽口箱(如面包箱,垃圾箱等)v.扔掉,丢弃( bin的第三人称单数 ) | |
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591 drudgery | |
n.苦工,重活,单调乏味的工作 | |
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592 emergence | |
n.浮现,显现,出现,(植物)突出体 | |
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593 pussy | |
n.(儿语)小猫,猫咪 | |
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594 tickles | |
(使)发痒( tickle的第三人称单数 ); (使)愉快,逗乐 | |
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595 vehemence | |
n.热切;激烈;愤怒 | |
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596 ironical | |
adj.讽刺的,冷嘲的 | |
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597 conspiratorial | |
adj.阴谋的,阴谋者的 | |
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598 cleaves | |
v.劈开,剁开,割开( cleave的第三人称单数 ) | |
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599 psychiatry | |
n.精神病学,精神病疗法 | |
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600 feuding | |
vi.长期不和(feud的现在分词形式) | |
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601 basks | |
v.晒太阳,取暖( bask的第三人称单数 );对…感到乐趣;因他人的功绩而出名;仰仗…的余泽 | |
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602 nags | |
n.不断地挑剔或批评(某人)( nag的名词复数 );不断地烦扰或伤害(某人);无休止地抱怨;不断指责v.不断地挑剔或批评(某人)( nag的第三人称单数 );不断地烦扰或伤害(某人);无休止地抱怨;不断指责 | |
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603 aggrieved | |
adj.愤愤不平的,受委屈的;悲痛的;(在合法权利方面)受侵害的v.令委屈,令苦恼,侵害( aggrieve的过去式);令委屈,令苦恼,侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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604 placating | |
v.安抚,抚慰,使平静( placate的现在分词 ) | |
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605 speck | |
n.微粒,小污点,小斑点 | |
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606 fabled | |
adj.寓言中的,虚构的 | |
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607 flirting | |
v.调情,打情骂俏( flirt的现在分词 ) | |
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608 ragged | |
adj.衣衫褴褛的,粗糙的,刺耳的 | |
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609 rippling | |
起涟漪的,潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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610 glamorous | |
adj.富有魅力的;美丽动人的;令人向往的 | |
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611 slab | |
n.平板,厚的切片;v.切成厚板,以平板盖上 | |
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612 tapered | |
adj. 锥形的,尖削的,楔形的,渐缩的,斜的 动词taper的过去式和过去分词 | |
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613 eerie | |
adj.怪诞的;奇异的;可怕的;胆怯的 | |
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614 antennae | |
n.天线;触角 | |
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615 prominence | |
n.突出;显著;杰出;重要 | |
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616 spire | |
n.(教堂)尖顶,尖塔,高点 | |
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617 salvation | |
n.(尤指基督)救世,超度,拯救,解困 | |
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618 flirty | |
adj.爱调戏的,轻浮的 | |
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619 slants | |
(使)倾斜,歪斜( slant的第三人称单数 ); 有倾向性地编写或报道 | |
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620 maples | |
槭树,枫树( maple的名词复数 ); 槭木 | |
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621 sullen | |
adj.愠怒的,闷闷不乐的,(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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622 entrusted | |
v.委托,托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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623 undone | |
a.未做完的,未完成的 | |
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624 clutter | |
n.零乱,杂乱;vt.弄乱,把…弄得杂乱 | |
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625 lessen | |
vt.减少,减轻;缩小 | |
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626 rumors | |
n.传闻( rumor的名词复数 );[古]名誉;咕哝;[古]喧嚷v.传闻( rumor的第三人称单数 );[古]名誉;咕哝;[古]喧嚷 | |
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627 promptly | |
adv.及时地,敏捷地 | |
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628 halfway | |
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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629 ruby | |
n.红宝石,红宝石色 | |
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630 embroidered | |
adj.绣花的 | |
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631 prelude | |
n.序言,前兆,序曲 | |
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632 velvet | |
n.丝绒,天鹅绒;adj.丝绒制的,柔软的 | |
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633 nibbled | |
v.啃,一点一点地咬(吃)( nibble的过去式和过去分词 );啃出(洞),一点一点咬出(洞);慢慢减少;小口咬 | |
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634 grievance | |
n.怨愤,气恼,委屈 | |
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635 hitched | |
(免费)搭乘他人之车( hitch的过去式和过去分词 ); 搭便车; 攀上; 跃上 | |
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636 octopuses | |
章鱼( octopus的名词复数 ) | |
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638 outright | |
adv.坦率地;彻底地;立即;adj.无疑的;彻底的 | |
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639 steadily | |
adv.稳定地;不变地;持续地 | |
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640 skunks | |
n.臭鼬( skunk的名词复数 );臭鼬毛皮;卑鄙的人;可恶的人 | |
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641 stunted | |
adj.矮小的;发育迟缓的 | |
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642 whine | |
v.哀号,号哭;n.哀鸣 | |
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643 unwillingly | |
adv.不情愿地 | |
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644 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
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645 chili | |
n.辣椒 | |
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646 touching | |
adj.动人的,使人感伤的 | |
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647 dummy | |
n.假的东西;(哄婴儿的)橡皮奶头 | |
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648 smoothly | |
adv.平滑地,顺利地,流利地,流畅地 | |
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649 rummages | |
翻找,搜寻( rummage的名词复数 ) | |
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650 braces | |
n.吊带,背带;托架( brace的名词复数 );箍子;括弧;(儿童)牙箍v.支住( brace的第三人称单数 );撑牢;使自己站稳;振作起来 | |
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651 dawdle | |
vi.浪费时间;闲荡 | |
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652 soda | |
n.苏打水;汽水 | |
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653 shacked | |
vi.未婚而同居(shack的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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654 wincing | |
赶紧避开,畏缩( wince的现在分词 ) | |
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655 tragic | |
adj.悲剧的,悲剧性的,悲惨的 | |
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656 moths | |
n.蛾( moth的名词复数 ) | |
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657 bowler | |
n.打保龄球的人,(板球的)投(球)手 | |
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658 tuxedo | |
n.礼服,无尾礼服 | |
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659 patio | |
n.庭院,平台 | |
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660 Mediterranean | |
adj.地中海的;地中海沿岸的 | |
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661 fattening | |
adj.(食物)要使人发胖的v.喂肥( fatten的现在分词 );养肥(牲畜);使(钱)增多;使(公司)升值 | |
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662 creek | |
n.小溪,小河,小湾 | |
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663 giggling | |
v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
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664 lustrous | |
adj.有光泽的;光辉的 | |
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665 rumbling | |
n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
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666 alloy | |
n.合金,(金属的)成色 | |
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667 stewing | |
炖 | |
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668 concealed | |
a.隐藏的,隐蔽的 | |
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669 DNA | |
(缩)deoxyribonucleic acid 脱氧核糖核酸 | |
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670 deserted | |
adj.荒芜的,荒废的,无人的,被遗弃的 | |
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671 inflicted | |
把…强加给,使承受,遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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672 dabbles | |
v.涉猎( dabble的第三人称单数 );涉足;浅尝;少量投资 | |
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673 glorified | |
美其名的,变荣耀的 | |
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674 mince | |
n.切碎物;v.切碎,矫揉做作地说 | |
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675 minced | |
v.切碎( mince的过去式和过去分词 );剁碎;绞碎;用绞肉机绞(食物,尤指肉) | |
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676 Flared | |
adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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677 flare | |
v.闪耀,闪烁;n.潮红;突发 | |
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678 embarrassment | |
n.尴尬;使人为难的人(事物);障碍;窘迫 | |
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679 buddies | |
n.密友( buddy的名词复数 );同伴;弟兄;(用于称呼男子,常带怒气)家伙v.(如密友、战友、伙伴、弟兄般)交往( buddy的第三人称单数 );做朋友;亲近(…);伴护艾滋病人 | |
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680 flunked | |
v.( flunk的过去式和过去分词 );(使)(考试、某学科的成绩等)不及格;评定(某人)不及格;(因不及格而) 退学 | |
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681 sipped | |
v.小口喝,呷,抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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682 twigs | |
细枝,嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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683 spinach | |
n.菠菜 | |
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684 seduce | |
vt.勾引,诱奸,诱惑,引诱 | |
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685 squinting | |
斜视( squint的现在分词 ); 眯着眼睛; 瞟; 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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686 inflexible | |
adj.不可改变的,不受影响的,不屈服的 | |
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687 curiously | |
adv.有求知欲地;好问地;奇特地 | |
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688 intensifies | |
n.(使)增强, (使)加剧( intensify的名词复数 )v.(使)增强, (使)加剧( intensify的第三人称单数 ) | |
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689 agitation | |
n.搅动;搅拌;鼓动,煽动 | |
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690 rattle | |
v.飞奔,碰响;激怒;n.碰撞声;拨浪鼓 | |
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691 rattles | |
(使)发出格格的响声, (使)作嘎嘎声( rattle的第三人称单数 ); 喋喋不休地说话; 迅速而嘎嘎作响地移动,堕下或走动; 使紧张,使恐惧 | |
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692 primly | |
adv.循规蹈矩地,整洁地 | |
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693 intake | |
n.吸入,纳入;进气口,入口 | |
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694 suffocating | |
a.使人窒息的 | |
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695 stapled | |
v.用钉书钉钉住( staple的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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696 cone | |
n.圆锥体,圆锥形东西,球果 | |
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697 maiden | |
n.少女,处女;adj.未婚的,纯洁的,无经验的 | |
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698 disastrous | |
adj.灾难性的,造成灾害的;极坏的,很糟的 | |
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699 overlapping | |
adj./n.交迭(的) | |
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700 sprouts | |
n.新芽,嫩枝( sprout的名词复数 )v.发芽( sprout的第三人称单数 );抽芽;出现;(使)涌现出 | |
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701 descending | |
n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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702 molecules | |
分子( molecule的名词复数 ) | |
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703 sodium | |
n.(化)钠 | |
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704 blessing | |
n.祈神赐福;祷告;祝福,祝愿 | |
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705 warrior | |
n.勇士,武士,斗士 | |
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706 jut | |
v.突出;n.突出,突出物 | |
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707 capers | |
n.开玩笑( caper的名词复数 );刺山柑v.跳跃,雀跃( caper的第三人称单数 ) | |
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708 poised | |
a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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709 veiny | |
adj.纹理状的 | |
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710 liking | |
n.爱好;嗜好;喜欢 | |
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711 irises | |
n.虹( iris的名词复数 );虹膜;虹彩;鸢尾(花) | |
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712 gulf | |
n.海湾;深渊,鸿沟;分歧,隔阂 | |
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713 alligator | |
n.短吻鳄(一种鳄鱼) | |
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714 glazed | |
adj.光滑的,像玻璃的;上过釉的;呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式);上釉于,上光;(目光)变得呆滞无神 | |
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715 helping | |
n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的,辅助的 | |
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716 bums | |
n. 游荡者,流浪汉,懒鬼,闹饮,屁股 adj. 没有价值的,不灵光的,不合理的 vt. 令人失望,乞讨 vi. 混日子,以乞讨为生 | |
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717 deference | |
n.尊重,顺从;敬意 | |
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718 rosy | |
adj.美好的,乐观的,玫瑰色的 | |
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719 crumbs | |
int. (表示惊讶)哎呀 n. 碎屑 名词crumb的复数形式 | |
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720 Christian | |
adj.基督教徒的;n.基督教徒 | |
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721 democrats | |
n.民主主义者,民主人士( democrat的名词复数 ) | |
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722 warehouse | |
n.仓库;vt.存入仓库 | |
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723 margin | |
n.页边空白;差额;余地,余裕;边,边缘 | |
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724 stifled | |
(使)窒息, (使)窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 ); 镇压,遏制; 堵 | |
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725 hogging | |
n.弯[翘]曲,挠度,扭曲;拱曲 | |
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726 orbs | |
abbr.off-reservation boarding school 在校寄宿学校n.球,天体,圆形物( orb的名词复数 ) | |
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727 carving | |
n.雕刻品,雕花 | |
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728 snail | |
n.蜗牛 | |
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729 doorway | |
n.门口,(喻)入门;门路,途径 | |
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730 apron | |
n.围裙;工作裙 | |
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731 vowed | |
起誓,发誓(vow的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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732 spiked | |
adj.有穗的;成锥形的;有尖顶的 | |
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733 pegged | |
v.用夹子或钉子固定( peg的过去式和过去分词 );使固定在某水平 | |
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734 joust | |
v.马上长枪比武,竞争 | |
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735 sips | |
n.小口喝,一小口的量( sip的名词复数 )v.小口喝,呷,抿( sip的第三人称单数 ) | |
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736 trolley | |
n.手推车,台车;无轨电车;有轨电车 | |
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737 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
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738 shrill | |
adj.尖声的;刺耳的;v尖叫 | |
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739 darts | |
n.掷飞镖游戏;飞镖( dart的名词复数 );急驰,飞奔v.投掷,投射( dart的第三人称单数 );向前冲,飞奔 | |
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740 plods | |
v.沉重缓慢地走(路)( plod的第三人称单数 );努力从事;沉闷地苦干;缓慢进行(尤指艰难枯燥的工作) | |
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741 peeks | |
n.偷看,窥视( peek的名词复数 )v.很快地看( peek的第三人称单数 );偷看;窥视;微露出 | |
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742 tribal | |
adj.部族的,种族的 | |
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743 joint | |
adj.联合的,共同的;n.关节,接合处;v.连接,贴合 | |
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744 sunbathed | |
日光浴( sunbathe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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745 misty | |
adj.雾蒙蒙的,有雾的 | |
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746 guts | |
v.狼吞虎咽,贪婪地吃,飞碟游戏(比赛双方每组5人,相距15码,互相掷接飞碟);毁坏(建筑物等)的内部( gut的第三人称单数 );取出…的内脏n.勇气( gut的名词复数 );内脏;消化道的下段;肠 | |
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747 glamour | |
n.魔力,魅力;vt.迷住 | |
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748 steered | |
v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 );操纵;控制;引导 | |
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749 sarcasm | |
n.讥讽,讽刺,嘲弄,反话 (adj.sarcastic) | |
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750 hipped | |
adj.着迷的,忧郁的 | |
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751 artillery | |
n.(军)火炮,大炮;炮兵(部队) | |
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752 suffused | |
v.(指颜色、水气等)弥漫于,布满( suffuse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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753 bumpy | |
adj.颠簸不平的,崎岖的 | |
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754 perpendicular | |
adj.垂直的,直立的;n.垂直线,垂直的位置 | |
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755 exertion | |
n.尽力,努力 | |
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756 mishap | |
n.不幸的事,不幸;灾祸 | |
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757 lustre | |
n.光亮,光泽;荣誉 | |
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758 leeched | |
v.用水蛭吸血(leech的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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759 lurid | |
adj.可怕的;血红的;苍白的 | |
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760 sensuous | |
adj.激发美感的;感官的,感觉上的 | |
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761 stencilled | |
v.用模板印(文字或图案)( stencil的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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762 chattering | |
n. (机器振动发出的)咔嗒声,(鸟等)鸣,啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的,啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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763 numbly | |
adv.失去知觉,麻木 | |
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764 rivets | |
铆钉( rivet的名词复数 ) | |
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765 gashes | |
n.深长的切口(或伤口)( gash的名词复数 )v.划伤,割破( gash的第三人称单数 ) | |
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766 wrenched | |
v.(猛力地)扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 );扭伤;使感到痛苦;使悲痛 | |
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767 hooded | |
adj.戴头巾的;有罩盖的;颈部因肋骨运动而膨胀的 | |
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768 protruding | |
v.(使某物)伸出,(使某物)突出( protrude的现在分词 );凸 | |
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769 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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770 besmirched | |
v.弄脏( besmirch的过去式和过去分词 );玷污;丑化;糟蹋(名誉等) | |
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771 collaborated | |
合作( collaborate的过去式和过去分词 ); 勾结叛国 | |
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772 ruffles | |
褶裥花边( ruffle的名词复数 ) | |
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773 deformed | |
adj.畸形的;变形的;丑的,破相了的 | |
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