He dreams of driving north with Charlie Stavros, in a little scarlet1 Toyota. The gear shift is very thin, a mere2 pencil, and he is afraid of breaking it as he shifts. Also, he is wearing golf shoes, which makes operating the pedals awkward. Stavros sits in the driver's seat and, with that stolid3 way of muttering, his square ringed hands masterfully gesturing, discusses his problem: Lyndon Johnson has asked him to be his Vice4?President. They need a Greek. He would like to accept, but doesn't want to leave Brewer5. So they are negotiating to have at least the summer White House moved to Brewer. They have lots of vacant lots they could build it on, Charlie explains. Rabbit is thinking maybe this is his chance to get out of the printing plant and into a white?collar job. Services and software are where the future lies. He tells Stavros hopefully, "I can lick stamps." He shows him his tongue. They are on a superhighway heading north, into the deserted6 coal regions and, beyond that, the wilds of northern Pennsylvania. Yet here, in this region of woods and lakes, a strange white city materializes beside the highway; hill after hill of tall row houses white as bedsheets, crowding to the horizon, an enormous city, strange it seems to have no name. They part in a suburban7 region beside a drugstore and Stavros hands him a map; with difficulty Rabbit locates on it where they are. The metropolis8, marked with a bull's?eye, is named, simply, The Rise.
The Rise, The Rise . . . the dream is so unpleasant he awakes, with a headache and an erection. His prick9 feels glassily thin and aches from all that work with Janice. The bed is empty beside him. He remembers they went to bed after two, when the television screen became a buzzing test?signal. He hears the sound of the vacuum cleaner downstairs. She is up.
He dresses in his Saturday clothes, patched chinos and apricot polo shirt, and goes downstairs. Janice is in the living room sweeping11, pushing the silver tube back and forth12. She glances over at him, looking old. Sex ages us. Priests are boyish, spinsters stay black?haired until after fifty. We others, the demon13 rots us out. She says, "There's orange juice on the table, and an egg in the pan. Let me finish this room."
From the breakfast table he surveys his house. The kitchen on one side, the living room on the other are visible. The furniture that frames his life looks Martian in the morning light: an armchair covered in synthetic15 fabric16 enlivened by a silver thread, a sofa of airfoam slabs17, a low table hacked18 to imitate an antique cobbler's bench, a piece of driftwood that is a lamp, nothing shaped directly for its purpose, gadgets19 designed to repel20 repair, nothing straight from a human hand, furniture Rabbit has lived among but has never known, made of substances he cannot name, that has aged21 as in a department store window, worn out without once conforming to his body. The orange juice tastes acid; it is not even frozen orange juice but some chemical mix tinted22 orange.
He breaks his egg into the pan, sets the flame low, thinks guiltily of his mother. Janice turns off the vacuum, comes over, pours herself some coffee to sit opposite him with as he eats. Lack of sleep has left purple dents23 beneath her eyes. He asks her, "Are you going to tell him?"
"I suppose I must."
"Why? Wouldn't you like to keep him?"
"What are you saying, Harry24?"
"Keep him, if he makes you happy. I don't seem to, so go ahead, until you've had your fill at least."
"Suppose I never have my fill?"
"Then I guess you should marry him."
"Charlie can never marry anybody."
"Who says?"
"He did once. I asked him why not and he wouldn't say. Maybe it has to do with his heart murmur25. That was the only time we ever discussed it."
"What do you and he discuss? Except which way to do it next." She might have risen to this taunt26 but doesn't. She is very flat, very honest and dry this morning, and this pleases him. A graver woman than he has known reveals herself. We contain chords someone else must strike. "We don't say much. We talk about funny little things, things we see from his windows, things we did as children. He loves to listen to me; when he was a boy they lived in the worst part of Brewer, a town like Mt. Judge looked marvellous to him. He calls me a rich bitch."
"The boss's daughter."
"Don't, Harry. You said that last night. You can't understand. It would sound silly, the things we talk about. He has a gift, Charlie does, of making everything exciting ? the way food tastes, the way the sky looks, the customers that come in. Once you get past that defensiveness27, that tough guy act, he's quite quick and, loving, in what he sees. He felt awful last night, after you left, that he had made you say more than you meant to. He hates to argue. He loves life. He really does, Harry. He loves life."
"We all do."
"Not really. I think our generation, the way we were raised, makes it hard for us to love life. Charlie does. It's like ? daylight. .You want to know something?"
He agrees, "Sure," knowing it will hurt.
"Daylight love ? it's the best."
"O.K. Relax. I said, keep the son of a bitch."
"I don't believe you."
"Only one thing. Try to keep the kid from knowing. My mother already knows, the people who visit her tell her. It's all over town. Talk about daylight."
"Let it be," Janice says. She rises. "Goddam your mother, Harry. The only thing she's ever done for us is try to poison our marriage. Now she's drowning in the poison of her life. She's dying and I'm glad."
"Jesus, don't say that."
"Why not? She would, if it were me. Who did she want you to marry? Tell me, who would have been wonderful enough for you? Who?"
"My sister," he suggests.
"Let me tell you something else. At first with Charlie, whenever I'd feel guilty, so I couldn't relax, I'd just think ofyour mother, how she's not only treated me but treated Nelson, her own grandson, and I'd say to myself, O.K., fella, sock it to me, and I'd just come."
"O.K., O.K. Spare me the fine print."
"I'm sick, so sick, of sparing you things. There've been a lot of days" ? and this makes her too sad to confess, so that a constraint28 slips like a net over her face, which goes ugly under the pull "when I was sorry you came back that time. You were a beautiful brainless guy and I've had to watch that guy die day by day."
"It wasn't so bad last night, was it?"
"No. It was so good I'm angry. I'm all confused."
"You've been confused from birth, kid." He adds, "Any dying I've been doing around here, you've been helping29 it right along." At the same time, he wants to fuck her again, to see if she can turn inside out again. For some minutes last night she turned all tongue and his mouth was glued to hers as if in an embryo30 the first cell division had not yet occurred.
The phone rings. Janice plucks it from its carriage on the kitchen wall and says, "Hi, Daddy. How was the Poconos? Good. I knew she would. She just needed to feel appreciated. Of course he's here. Here he is." She holds it out to Rabbit. "For you."
Old man Springer's voice is reedy, coaxing31, deferential32. "Harry, how's everything?"
"Not bad."
"You still game for the ball game? Janice mentioned you asked about the tickets to the Blasts today. They're in my hand, three right behind first base. The manager's been a client of mine for twenty years."
"Yeah, great. The kid spent the night at the Fosnachts, but I'll get him back. You want to meet at the stadium?"
"Let me pick you up, Harry. I'll be happy to pick you up in my car. That way we'll leave Janice yours." A note in his voice that didn't used to be there, gentle, faintly wheedling33: nursing along an invalid34. He knows too. The world knows. It'll be in the halt next week. LINOTYPER'S WIFE LAYS LOCAL SALES REP. Greek Takes Strong Anti? Viet Stand.
"Tell me, Harry," Springer wheedles35 on, "how is your mother's health? Rebecca and I are naturally very concerned. Very concerned."
"My father says it's about the same. It's a slow process, you know. They have drugs now that make it even slower. I've been meaning this week to get up to Mt. Judge to see her but we haven't managed."
"When you do, Harry, give her our love. Give her our love."
Saying everything twice: he probably swung the Toyota franchise36 because the Japs could understand him second time around.
"O.K., sure enough. Want Janice back?"
"No, Harry, you can keep her." A joke. "I'll be by twelvetwenty, twelve?thirty."
He hangs up. Janice is gone from the kitchen. He finds her in the living room crying. He goes and kneels beside the sofa and puts his arms around her but these actions feel like stage directions followed woodenly. A button is off on her blouse and the sallow curve of breast into the bra mixes with her hot breath in his ear. She says, "You can't understand, how good he was. Not sexy or funny or anything, just good."
"Sure I can. I've known some good people. They make you .feel good."
"They make you feel everything you do and are is good. He never told me how dumb I am, every hour on the hour like you do, even though he's much smarter than you could ever imagine. He would have gone to college, if he hadn't been a Greek."
"Oh. Don't they let Greeks in now? The nigger quota37 too big?"
"You say such sick things, Harry."
"It's because nobody tells me how good I am," he says, and stands. The back of her neck is vulnerable beneath him. One good karate38 chop would do it.
The driveway crackles outside; it's much too early for Springer. He goes to the window. A teal?blue Fury. The passenger door swings open and Nelson gets out. On the other side appears Peggy Gring, wearing sunglasses and a miniskirt that flashes her big thighs39 like a card dealer's thumbs. Unhappiness ?being deserted ? has made her brisk, professional. She gives Rabbit hardly a hello and her sunglasses hide the eyes that he knows from school days look northeast and northwest. The two women go into the kitchen. From the sound of Janice snuffling he guesses a confession40 is in progress. He goes outside to finish the yard work he began last night. All around him, in the back yards of Vista41 Crescent, to the horizons of Penn Villas42 with their barbecue chimneys and aluminum43 wash trees, other men are out in their yards; the sound of his mower44 is echoed from house to house, his motions of bending and pushing are carried outwards45 as if in fragments of mirror suspended from the hot blank sky. These his neighbors, they come with their furniture in vans and leave with the vans. They get together to sign futile46 petitions for better sewers47 and quicker fire protection but otherwise do not connect. Nelson comes out and asks him, "What's the matter with Mommy?"
He shuts off the mower. "What's she doing?"
"She's sitting at the table with Mrs. Fosnacht crying her eyes out."
"Still? I don't know, kid; she's upset. One thing you must learn about women, their chemistries are different from ours."
"Mommy almost never cries."
"So maybe it's good for her. Get lots of sleep last night?"
"Some. We watched an old movie about torpedo48 boats."
"Looking forward to the Blasts game?"
"Sure."
"But not much, huh?"
"I don't like sports as much as you do, Dad. It's all so com-petitive."
"That's life. Dog eat dog."
"You think? Why can't things just be nice? There's enough stuff for everybody to share."
"You think there is? Why don't you start then by sharing this lawnmowing? You push it for a while."
"You owe me my allowance." As Rabbit hands him a dollar bill and two quarters, the boy says, "I'm saving for a mini?bike."
"Good luck."
"Also, Dad ??"
"Yeah?"
"I think I should get a dollar twenty?five an hour for work. That's still under the federal minimum wage."
"See?" Rabbit tells him. "Dog eat dog."
As he washes up inside, pulling grass bits out of his cuffs49 and putting a Band?aid on the ball of his thumb (tender place; in high school they used to say you could tell how sexy a girl was by how fat she was here), Janice comes into the bathroom, shuts the door, and says, "I've decided50 to tell him. While you're at the ball game I'll tell him." Her face looks taut51 but pretty dried?out; patches of moisture glisten52 beside her nose. The tile walls amplify53 her sniffs54. Peggy Gring's car roars outside in leaving.
"Tell who what?"
"Tell Charlie. That it's all over. That you know."
"I said, keep him. Don't do anything for today at least. Calm down. Have a drink. See a movie. See that space movie again, you slept through the best parts."
"That's cowardly. No. He and I have always been honest with each other, I must tell him the truth."
"I think you're just looking for an excuse to see him while I'm tucked away at the ball park."
"You would think that."
"Suppose he asks you to sleep with him?"
"He wouldn't."
"Suppose he does, as a graduation present?"
She stares at him boldly: dark gaze tempered in the furnace of betrayal. It comes to him: growth is betrayal. There is no other route. There is no arriving somewhere without leaving some-where. "I would," she says.
"Where are you going to find him?"
"At the lot. He stays on until six summer Saturdays."
"What reason are you going to give him? For breaking it off" "Why, the fact that you know."
"Suppose he asks you why you told?"
"It's obvious why I told. I told because I'm your wife."
Tears belly55 out between her lids and the tension of her face breaks like Nelson's when a hidden anxiety, a D or a petty theft or a headache, is confessed. Harry denies his impulse to put his arm around her; he does not want to feel wooden again. She teeters, keeping her balance while sobbing56, sitting on the edge of the bath-tub, while the plastic shower curtain rustles57 at her shoulder.
"Aren't you going to stop me?" she brings out at last.
"Stop you from what?"
"From seeing him!"
Given this rich present of her grief, he can afford to be cruel. Coolly he says, "No, see him if you want to. Just as long as I don't have to see the bastard58." And, avoiding the sight of her face, he sees himself in the cabinet mirror, a big pink pale man going shapeless under the chin, his little lips screwed awry59 in what wants to be a smile.
The gravel60 in the driveway crackles again. From the bathroom window he sees the boxy dun top of Springer's spandy new Toyota wagon61. To Nelson he calls, "Grandpa's here. Let's go?o." To Janice he murmurs62, "Sit tight, kid. Don't commit yourself to anything." To his father?in?law, sliding in beside him, across a spaghetti of nylon safety straps63, Rabbit sings, "Buy me some peanuts and crack?er jack64 .. ."
The stadium is on the northern side of Brewer, through a big cloverleaf, past the brick hulks of two old hosiery mills, along a three?lane highway where in these last years several roadside restaurants have begun proclaiming themselves as Pennsylvania Dutch, with giant plaster Amishmen and neon hex signs. GENUINE "Dutch" COOKING. Pa. Dutch Smorgasbord. Trying to sell what in the old days couldn't be helped. Making a tourist attraction out of fat?fried food and a diet of dough65 that would give a pig pimples66. They pass the country fairgrounds, where every September the same battered67 gyp stands return, and the farmers bring their stinking68 livestock69, and Serafina the Egyptian Temptress will take off all her clothes for those yokels70 who put up a dollar extra. The first naked woman he saw was Serafma or her mother. She kept on her high heels and a black mask and bent71 way backwards72; she spread her legs and kept a kind of token shimmy rhythm as she moved in a semi?circle so every straining head (luckily he was tall even then) could see a trace of her cleft73, an exciting queasy74?making wrinkle shabbily masked by a patch of hair that looked to him pasted?on. Rubbed threadbare? He didn't know. He couldn't imagine.
Springer is shaking his head over the York riots. "Sniper fire four nights in a row, Harry. What is the world coming to? We're so defenseless, is what strikes me, we're so defenseless against the violent few. All our institutions have been based on trust."
Nelson pipes up. "It's the only way they can get justice, Grandpa. Our laws defend property instead of people."
"They're defeating their own purposes, Nellie. Many a white man of good will like myself is being turned against the blacks. Slowly but surely he's being turned against them. It wasn't Vietnam beat Humphrey, it was law and order in the streets. That's the issue that the common man votes upon. Am I right or wrong, Harry? I'm such an old fogey I don't trust my own opinions any more."
One old geezer, Harry is remembering, at the side of the little stage, reached from behind and put his hand up on her pussy75, shouting, "Aha!" She stopped her dance and stared out of the black mask. The tent went quiet; the geezer, surprisingly, found enough blood in himself to blush. Aha. That cry of triumph, as if he had snared76 a precious small animal, Harry never forgot. Aha. He slouches down and in answer to Springer says, "Things go bad. Food goes bad, people go bad, maybe a whole country goes bad. The blacks now have more than ever, but it feels like less, maybe. We were all brought up to want things and maybe the world .isn't big enough for all that wanting. I don't know. I don't know anything."
Old man Springer laughs; he snorts and snarls77 so his little gray mouse of a mustache merges78 with his nostril79 hairs. "Did you hear about Teddy Kennedy this morning?"
"What about him? No."
"Shut your ears, Nellie. I forgot you were in the car or I wouldn't have mentioned it."
"What, Grandpa? What did he do? Did somebody shoot him?"
"Apparently80, Harry" ? Springer talks out of the side of his mouth, as if to shield Nelson, yet so distinctly the child can easily hear? "he dumped some girl from Pennsylvania into one of those Massachusetts rivers. Murder as plain as my face." Springer's face, from the side, is a carving81 of pink bone, with rosy82 splotches where the cheekbones put most pressure, and a bump of red on the point where the nose turns. An anxious sharp face creased83 all over by a salesman's constant smile. One thing at least about setting type, there's a limit on how much ass10 you must kiss.
"Did they get him? Is he in jail, Grandpa?"
"Ah, Nellie, they'll never put a Kennedy in jail. Palms will be greased. Evidence will be suppressed. I call it a crying shame."
Rabbit asks, "What do you mean, dumped some girl?"
"They found her in his car upside down in the water beside some bridge, I forget the name, one of those islands they have up there. It happened last night and he didn't go to the police until they were about to nab him. And they call this a democracy, Harry, is the irony84 of it."
"What would you call it?"
"I'd call it a police state run by the Kennedys, is what I would call it. That family has been out to buy the country since those Brahmins up in Boston snubbed old Joe. And then he put himself in league with Hitler when he was FDR's man in London. Now they've got the young widow to marry a rich Greek in case they run out of American money. Not that she's the goodie?gumdrop the papers say; those two were a match. What's your opinion, Harry? Am I talking out of line? I'm such a back number now I don't trust to hear myself talk." Aha.
"I'd say," Harry says, "you're right with it. You should join the kids and buy yourself a bomb to throw."
Springer looks over from driving (the yellow parabolas of a McDonald's flash by; the tinsel spinners of a Mobil station break the noon sun into trinkets) to see if he has oversold. How timid, really, people who live by people must be. Earl Angstrom was right about that at least: better make your deals with things. Springer says, hedgily smiling, showing porcelain85 teeth beneath the gray blur86, "I'll say this for the Kennedys, however, they don't get my dander up like FDR. There was a man, Harry, so mad he died of maggots in the brain. One thing to be said for the Kennedys, they didn't try to turn the economy upside down for the benefit of the poor, they were willing to ride along with the System as it's been handed down."
Nelson says, "Billy Fosnacht says when we grow up we're going to overthrow87 the System."
Springer can't hear, lost in his vision of executive madness and corruption88. "He tried to turn it upside down for the benefit of the black and white trash, and when that didn't work for eight years he finagled the little Japanese into attacking Pearl Harbor so he had a war to bail89 him out of the Depression. That's why you have these wars, believe it or not, to bail the Democrats90 out of their crazy economics. LBJ, now, as soon as he got his four?year guarantee, went into Vietnam where nobody wanted us, just to get the coloreds up into the economy. LBJ, he was an FDR man. Truman, the same thing in Korea. History bears me out, every time, call me an old fogey if you want to: what's your angle on it, Nelson?"
"Last night on television," the boy says, "we watched an old movie about fighting the Japs in the Pacific, this little boat sank, and the captain or whatever he was swam miles with a broken back dragging this other guy."
"That was Kennedy," Springer says. "Pure propaganda. They made that movie because Old Joe owned a lot of those studios. He sank his money into the movies when aL the honest businessmen who'd put this country on the map were losing their shirts. He was in close league, the story I heard, with those Jewish Communists out there."
Rabbit tells Nelson, "That's where your Aunt Mim is now, out .there with those Communists."
"She's beautiful," Nelson tells his grandfather. "Have you ever seen my Aunt Mim?"
"Not as much as I'd have liked to, Nellie. She is a striking figure, however, I know you're right there. You're right to be proud of her. Harry, your silence disturbs me. Your silence disturbs me. Maybe I'm way off base ? way off: Tell me what you think of the state of the nation. With these riots everywhere, and this poor Polish girl, she comes from up near Williamsport, abused and drowned when the future President takes his pleasure. Pregnant, wouldn't surprise me. Nellie, you shouldn't be hearing any of this."
Harry stretches, cramped91 in the car, short of sleep. They are near the stadium, and a little colored boy is waving them into a lot. "I think," he says, "about America, it's still the only place."
But something has gone wrong. The ball game is boring. The spaced dance of the men in white fails to enchant92, the code beneath the staccato spurts93 of distant motion refuses to yield its meaning. Though basketball was his sport, Rabbit remembers the grandeur94 of all that grass, the excited perilous95 feeling when a high fly was hoisted96 your way, the homing?in on the expanding dot, the leathery smack97 of the catch, the formalized nonchalance98 of the heads?down trot99 in toward the bench, the ritual flips100 and shrugs101 and the nervous courtesies of the batter's box. There was a beauty here bigger than the hurtling beauty of basketball, a beauty refined from country pastures, a game of solitariness102, of waiting, waiting for the pitcher103 to complete his gaze toward first base and throw his lightning, a game whose very taste, of spit and dust and grass and sweat and leather and sun, was America. Sitting behind first base between his son and his father?in?law, the sun resting on his thighs, the rolled?up program in his hand, Rabbit waits for this beauty to rise to him, through the cheers and the rhythm of innings, the traditional national magic, tasting of his youth; but something is wrong. The crowd is sparse104, thinning out from a cluster behind the infield to fistfuls of boys sprawling105 on the green seats sloped up from the outfield. Sparse, loud, hard: only the drunks, the bookies, the cripples, the senile, and the delinquents106 come out to the ball park on a Saturday afternoon. Their catcalls are coarse and unkind. "Ram14 it down his throat, Speedy!" "Kill that black bastard!" Rabbit yearns107 to protect the game from the crowd; the poetry of space and inaction is too fine, too slowly spun108 for them. And for the players themselves, they seem expert listlessly, each intent on a private dream of making it, making it into the big leagues and the big money, the own?your?own?bowlingalley money; they seem specialists like any other, not men playing a game because all men are boys time is trying to outsmart. A gallant109 pretense110 has been abandoned. Only the explosions of orange felt on their uniforms, under the script Blasts, evoke111 the old world of heraldic local loyalties112. Brewer versus113 Hazleton and who cares? Not Springer: as he watches, his lips absent?mindedly move as if sorting out old accounts. Not Nelson: the screen of reality is too big for the child, he misses television's running commentary, the audacious commercials. His politely unspoken disappointment nags114 at Rabbit, prevents the game from rising and filling the scared hollow Janice's confession has left in him. The eight?team leagues of his boyhood have vanished with the forty?eight?star flag. The shortstops never chew tobacco any more. The game drags on, with a tedious flurry of strategy, of pinch?hitters and intentional115 walks, prolonging the end. Hazleton wins, 7?3. Old man Springer sighs, getting up as if from a nap in an unnatural116 position. He wipes a fleck117 of beer from his mustache. " 'Fraid our boys didn't come through for you, Nellie," he says.
"That's O.K., Grampa. It was neat."
To Harry he says, needing to find something to sell, "That young Trexler is a comer though."
Rabbit is cross and groggy118 from two beers in the sun. He doesn't invite Springer into his house, just thanks him a lot for everything. The house is silent, like outer space. On the kitchen table is a sealed envelope, addressed "Harry." The letter inside, in Janice's half?formed hand, with its unsteady slant119 and miserly cramping120, says
Harry dear-
I must go off a few days to think. Please don't try to find or follow me please. It is very important that we all respect each other as people and trust each other now. I was shocked by your idea that I keep a lover since I don't think this would be honest and it made me wonder if I mean anything to you at all. Tell Nelson I've gone to the Poconos with Grandmom. Don't forget to give him lunch money for the playground.
Love,
Jan
"Jan" ? her name from the years she used to work at Kroll's selling salted nuts in the smock with Jan stitched above the pocket in script. In those days some afternoons they would go to Linda Hammacher's apartment up on Eighth Street. The horizontal rose rays as the sun set behind the great gray gas?holder121. The wonder of it as she let him slip off all her clothes. Underwear more substantial then: stocking snaps to undo122, the marks of elastic123 printed on her skin. Jan. That name suspended in her these fifteen years; the notes she left for him around the house were simply signed ` J."
"Where's Mom?" Nelson asks.
"She's gone to the Poconos," Rabbit says, pulling the note back toward his chest, in case the boy tries to read it. "She's gone with Mom?mom, her legs were getting worse in this heat. I know it seems crazy, but that's how things are sometimes. You and I can eat over at Burger Bliss124 tonight."
The boy's face ? freckled125, framed by hair that covers his ears, his plump lips buttoned shut and his eyes sunk in fear of making a mistake ? goes rapt, seems to listen, as when he was two and flight and death were rustling126 above him. Perhaps his experience then shapes what he says now. Firmly he tells his father, "She'll be back."
收听单词发音 |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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brewer
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| n. 啤酒制造者 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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suburban
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| adj.城郊的，在郊区的 | |
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metropolis
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| n.首府；大城市 | |
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prick
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| v.刺伤，刺痛，刺孔；n.刺伤，刺痛 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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ram
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| (random access memory)随机存取存储器 | |
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synthetic
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| adj.合成的，人工的；综合的；n.人工制品 | |
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fabric
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| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
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slabs
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| n.厚板，平板，厚片( slab的名词复数 )；厚胶片 | |
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hacked
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gadgets
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| n.小机械，小器具（ gadget的名词复数 ） | |
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20
repel
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| v.击退，抵制，拒绝，排斥 | |
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21
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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22
tinted
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| adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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23
dents
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| n.花边边饰；凹痕( dent的名词复数 )；凹部；减少；削弱v.使产生凹痕( dent的第三人称单数 )；损害；伤害；挫伤（信心、名誉等） | |
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24
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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25
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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26
taunt
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| n.辱骂，嘲弄；v.嘲弄 | |
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27
defensiveness
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| 防御性 | |
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28
constraint
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| n.(on)约束，限制；限制(或约束)性的事物 | |
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29
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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30
embryo
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| n.胚胎，萌芽的事物 | |
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31
coaxing
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| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的现在分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱；“锻炼”效应 | |
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32
deferential
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| adj. 敬意的，恭敬的 | |
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33
wheedling
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| v.骗取（某物），哄骗（某人干某事）( wheedle的现在分词 ) | |
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34
invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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35
wheedles
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| v.骗取（某物），哄骗（某人干某事）( wheedle的第三人称单数 ) | |
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36
franchise
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| n.特许，特权，专营权，特许权 | |
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37
quota
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| n.（生产、进出口等的）配额，（移民的）限额 | |
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38
karate
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| n.空手道(日本的一种徒手武术) | |
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39
thighs
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| n.股，大腿( thigh的名词复数 )；食用的鸡（等的）腿 | |
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40
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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41
vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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42
villas
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| 别墅，公馆( villa的名词复数 )； （城郊）住宅 | |
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43
aluminum
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| n.(aluminium)铝 | |
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44
mower
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| n.割草机 | |
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45
outwards
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| adj.外面的，公开的，向外的；adv.向外；n.外形 | |
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46
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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47
sewers
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| n.阴沟，污水管，下水道( sewer的名词复数 ) | |
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48
torpedo
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| n.水雷，地雷；v.用鱼雷破坏 | |
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49
cuffs
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| n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打，拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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50
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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51
taut
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| adj.拉紧的，绷紧的，紧张的 | |
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52
glisten
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| vi.（光洁或湿润表面等）闪闪发光，闪闪发亮 | |
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53
amplify
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| vt.放大，增强；详述，详加解说 | |
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54
sniffs
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的第三人称单数 )；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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55
belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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56
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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57
rustles
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| n.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的名词复数 )v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的第三人称单数 ) | |
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58
bastard
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| n.坏蛋，混蛋；私生子 | |
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59
awry
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| adj.扭曲的，错的 | |
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60
gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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61
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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62
murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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63
straps
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| 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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64
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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65
dough
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| n.生面团；钱，现款 | |
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66
pimples
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| n.丘疹，粉刺，小脓疱( pimple的名词复数 ) | |
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67
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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68
stinking
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| adj.臭的，烂醉的，讨厌的v.散发出恶臭( stink的现在分词 )；发臭味；名声臭；糟透 | |
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69
livestock
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| n.家畜，牲畜 | |
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70
yokels
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| n.乡下佬，土包子( yokel的名词复数 ) | |
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71
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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72
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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73
cleft
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| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
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74
queasy
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| adj.易呕的 | |
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75
pussy
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| n.(儿语)小猫，猫咪 | |
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76
snared
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| v.用罗网捕捉，诱陷，陷害( snare的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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77
snarls
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| n.（动物的）龇牙低吼( snarl的名词复数 )；愤怒叫嚷（声）；咆哮（声）；疼痛叫声v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的第三人称单数 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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78
merges
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| （使）混合( merge的第三人称单数 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
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79
nostril
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| n.鼻孔 | |
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80
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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81
carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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82
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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83
creased
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| （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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84
irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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85
porcelain
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| n.瓷；adj.瓷的，瓷制的 | |
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86
blur
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| n.模糊不清的事物；vt.使模糊，使看不清楚 | |
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87
overthrow
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| v.推翻，打倒，颠覆；n.推翻，瓦解，颠覆 | |
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88
corruption
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| n.腐败，堕落，贪污 | |
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89
bail
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| v.舀（水），保释；n.保证金，保释，保释人 | |
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90
democrats
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| n.民主主义者，民主人士( democrat的名词复数 ) | |
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91
cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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92
enchant
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| vt.使陶醉，使入迷；使着魔，用妖术迷惑 | |
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93
spurts
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| 短暂而突然的活动或努力( spurt的名词复数 )； 突然奋起 | |
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94
grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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95
perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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96
hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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97
smack
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| vt.拍，打，掴；咂嘴；vi.含有…意味；n.拍 | |
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98
nonchalance
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| n.冷淡，漠不关心 | |
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99
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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100
flips
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| 轻弹( flip的第三人称单数 )； 按（开关）； 快速翻转； 急挥 | |
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101
shrugs
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| n.耸肩（以表示冷淡，怀疑等）( shrug的名词复数 ) | |
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102
solitariness
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| n.隐居；单独 | |
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103
pitcher
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| n.(有嘴和柄的)大水罐；(棒球)投手 | |
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104
sparse
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| adj.稀疏的，稀稀落落的，薄的 | |
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105
sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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106
delinquents
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| n.（尤指青少年）有过失的人，违法的人( delinquent的名词复数 ) | |
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107
yearns
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| 渴望，切盼，向往( yearn的第三人称单数 ) | |
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108
spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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109
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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110
pretense
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| n.矫饰，做作，借口 | |
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111
evoke
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| vt.唤起，引起，使人想起 | |
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112
loyalties
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| n.忠诚( loyalty的名词复数 )；忠心；忠于…感情；要忠于…的强烈感情 | |
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113
versus
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| prep.以…为对手，对；与…相比之下 | |
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114
nags
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| 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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115
intentional
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| adj.故意的，有意（识）的 | |
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116
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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117
fleck
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| n.斑点，微粒 vt.使有斑点，使成斑驳 | |
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118
groggy
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| adj.体弱的；不稳的 | |
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119
slant
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| v.倾斜，倾向性地编写或报道；n.斜面，倾向 | |
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120
cramping
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| 图像压缩 | |
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121
holder
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| n.持有者，占有者；(台，架等)支持物 | |
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122
undo
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| vt.解开，松开；取消，撤销 | |
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123
elastic
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| n.橡皮圈，松紧带；adj.有弹性的；灵活的 | |
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124
bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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125
freckled
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| 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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126
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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