They had to evacuate1 the grade school on Tuesday. Kids were getting headaches and eye irritations2, tasting metal intheir mouths. A teacher rolled on the floor and spoke3 foreign languages. No one knew what was wrong. Investigatorssaid it could be the ventilating system, the paint or varnish4, the foam5 insulation6, the electrical insulation, the cafeteriafood, the rays emitted by microcomputers7, the asbestos fireproofing, the adhesive8 on shipping9 containers, the fumesfrom the chlorinated pool, or perhaps something deeper, finer-grained, more closely woven into the basic state ofthings.
Denise and Steffie stayed home that week as men in Mylex suits and respirator masks made systematic10 sweeps of thebuilding with infrared11 detecting and measuring equipment. Because Mylex is itself a suspect material, the resultstended to be ambiguous and a second round of more rigorous detection had to be scheduled.
The two girls and Babette, Wilder and I went to the supermarket. Minutes after we entered, we ran into Murray. Thiswas the fourth or fifth time I'd seen him in the supermarket, which was roughly the number of times I'd seen him oncampus. He clutched Babette by the left bicep and sidled around her, appearing to smell her hair.
"A lovely dinner," he said, standing12 directly behind her. "I like to cook myself, which doubles my appreciation13 ofsomeone who does it well.""Come any time," she said, turning in an effort to find him.
We moved together into the ultra-cool interior. Wilder sat in the shopping cart trying to grab items off the shelves aswe went by. It occurred to me that he was too old and too big to be sitting in supermarket carts. I also wondered whyhis vocabulary seemed to be stalled at twenty-five words.
"I'm happy to be here," Murray said.
"In Blacksmith?""In Blacksmith, in the supermarket, in the rooming house, on the Hill. I feel I'm learning important things every day.
Death, disease, afterlife, outer space. It's all much clearer here. I can think and see."We moved into the generic14 food area and Murray paused with his plastic basket to probe among the white cartonsand jars. I wasn't sure I understood what he was talking about. What did he mean, much clearer? He could think andsee what?
Steffie took my hand and we walked past the fruit bins15, an area that extended about forty-five yards along one wall.
The bins were arranged diagonally and backed by mirrors that people accidentally punched when reaching for fruitin the upper rows. A voice on the loudspeaker said: "Kleenex Softique, your truck's blocking the entrance." Applesand lemons tumbled in twos and threes to the floor when someone took a fruit from certain places in the stackedarray. There were six kinds of apples, there were exotic melons in several pastels. Everything seemed to be in season,sprayed, burnished16, bright. People tore filmy bags off racks and tried to figure out which end opened. I realized theplace was awash in noise. The toneless systems, the jangle and skid17 of carts, the loudspeaker and coffee-makingmachines, the cries of children. And over it all, or under it all, a dull and unlocatable roar, as of some form ofswarming life just outside the range of human apprehension18.
"Did you tell Denise you were sorry?""Maybe later," Steffie said. "Remind me.""She's a sweet girl and she wants to be your older sister and your friend if you'll let her.""I don't know about friend. She's a little bossy19, don't you think?""Aside from telling her you're sorry, be sure to give her back her Physicians' Desk Reference.""She reads that thing all the time. Don't you think that's weird20?""At least she reads something.""Sure, lists of drugs and medicines. And do you want to know why?""Why?""Because she's trying to find out the side effects of the stuff that Baba uses.""What does Baba use?""Don't ask me. Ask Denise.""How do you know she uses anything?""Ask Denise.""Why don't I ask Baba?""Ask Baba," she said.
Murray came out of an aisle21 and walked alongside Babette, just ahead of us. He took a twin roll of paper towels outof her cart and smelled it. Denise had found some friends and they went up front to look at the paperback22 books inspindly racks, the books with shiny metallic23 print, raised letters, vivid illustrations of cult24 violence and windsweptromance. Denise was wearing a green visor. I heard Babette tell Murray she'd been wearing it fourteen hours a dayfor three weeks now. She would not go out without it, would not even leave her room. She wore it in school, whenthere was school, wore it to the toilet, the dentist's chair, the dinner table. Something about the visor seemed to speakto her, to offer wholeness and identity.
"It's her interface25 with the world," Murray said.
He helped Babette push her loaded cart. I heard him say to her, "Tibetans believe there is a transitional state betweendeath and rebirth. Death is a waiting period, basically. Soon a fresh womb will receive the soul. In the meantime thesoul restores to itself some of the divinity lost at birth." He studied her profile as if to detect a reaction. "That's whatI think of whenever I come in here. This place recharges us spiritually, it prepares us, it's a gateway26 or pathway. Lookhow bright. It's full of psychic27 data."My wife smiled at him.
"Everything is concealed28 in symbolism, hidden by veils of mystery and layers of cultural material. But it is psychicdata, absolutely. The large doors slide open, they close unbidden. Energy waves, incident radiation. All the lettersand numbers are here, all the colors of the spectrum29, all the voices and sounds, all the code words and ceremonialphrases. It is just a question of deciphering, rearranging, peeling off the layers of unspeakability. Not that we wouldwant to, not that any useful purpose would be served. This is not Tibet. Even Tibet is not Tibet anymore."He studied her profile. She put some yogurt in her cart.
"Tibetans try to see death for what it is. It is the end of attachment30 to things. This simple truth is hard to fathom31. Butonce we stop denying death, we can proceed calmly to die and then go on to experience uterine rebirth orJudeo-Christian afterlife or out-of-body experience or a trip on a UFO or whatever we wish to call it. We can do sowith clear vision, without awe32 or terror. We don't have to cling to life artificially, or to death for that matter. Wesimply walk toward the sliding doors. Waves and radiation. Look how well-lighted everything is. The place is sealedoff, self-contained. It is timeless. Another reason why I think of Tibet. Dying is an art in Tibet. A priest walks in, sitsdown, tells the weeping relatives to get out and has the room sealed. Doors, windows sealed. He has serious businessto see to. Chants, numerology, horoscopes, recitations. Here we don't die, we shop. But the difference is less markedthan you think."He was almost whispering now and I tried to get up closer without ramming33 my cart into Babette's. I wanted to heareverything.
"Supermarkets this large and clean and modern are a revelation to me. I spent my life in small steamy delicatessenswith slanted34 display cabinets full of trays that hold soft wet lumpy matter in pale colors. High enough cabinets so youhad to stand on tiptoes to give your order. Shouts, accents. In cities no one notices specific dying. Dying is a qualityof the air. It's everywhere and nowhere. Men shout as they die, to be noticed, remembered for a second or two. To diein an apartment instead of a house can depress the soul, I would imagine, for several lives to come. In a town thereare houses, plants in bay windows. People notice dying better. The dead have faces, automobiles35. If you don't knowa name, you know a street name, a dog's name. 'He drove an orange Mazda.'
You know a couple of useless things about a person that become major facts of identification and cosmic placementwhen he dies suddenly, after a short illness, in his own bed, with a comforter and matching pillows, on a rainyWednesday afternoon, feverish36, a little congested in the sinuses and chest, thinking about his dry cleaning."Babette said, "Where is Wilder?" and turned to stare at me in a way that suggested ten minutes had passed since she'dlast seen him. Other looks, less pensive37 and less guilty, indicated greater time spans, deeper seas of inattention. Like:
"I didn't know whales were mammals." The greater the time span, the blanker the look, the more dangerous thesituation. It was as if guilt38 were a luxury she allowed herself only when the danger was minimal39.
"How could he get out of the cart without my noticing?"The three adults each stood at the head of an aisle and peered into the traffic of carts and gliding40 bodies. Then we didthree more aisles41, heads set forward, weaving slightly as we changed our sightlines. I kept seeing colored spots off tothe right but when I turned there was nothing there. I'd been seeing colored spots for years but never so many, sogaily animated42. Murray saw Wilder in another woman's cart. The woman waved at Babette and headed toward us.
She lived on our street with a teenage daughter and an Asian baby, Chun Duc. Everyone referred to the baby by name,almost in a tone of proud proprietorship43, but no one knew who Chun belonged to or where he or she had come from.
"Kleenex Softique, Kleenex Softique."Steffie was holding my hand in a way I'd come to realize, over a period of time, was not meant to be gentlypossessive, as I'd thought at first, but reassuring44. I was a little astonished. A firm grip that would help me restoreconfidence in myself, keep me from becoming resigned to whatever melancholy45 moods she thought she detectedhovering about my person.
Before Murray went to the express line he invited us to dinner, a week from Saturday.
"You don't have to let me know till the last minute.""We'll be there," Babette said.
"I'm not preparing anything major, so just call beforehand and tell me if something else came up. You don't evenhave to call. If you don't show up, I'll know that something came up and you couldn't let me know.""Murray, we'll be there.""Bring the kids.""No.""Great. But if you decide to bring them, no problem. I don't want you to feel I'm holding you to something. Don't feelyou've made an ironclad commitment. You'll show up or you won't. I have to eat anyway, so there's no majorcatastrophe if something comes up and you have to cancel. I just want you to know I'll be there if you decide to dropby, with or without kids. We have till next May or June to do this thing so there's no special mystique about a weekfrom Saturday.""Are you coming back next semester?" I said.
'They want me to teach a course in the cinema of car crashes.""Do it.""I will."I rubbed against Babette in the checkout46 line. She backed into me and I reached around her and put my hands on herbreasts. She rotated her hips47 and I nuzzled her hair and murmured, "Dirty blond." People wrote checks, tall boysbagged the merchandise. Not everyone spoke English at the cash terminals, or near the fruit bins and frozen foods, orout among the cars in the lot. More and more I heard languages I could not identify much less understand, althoughthe tall boys were American-born and the checkout women as well, short, fattish in blue tunics48, wearing stretchslacks and tiny white espadrilles. I tried to fit my hands into Babette's skirt, over her belly49, as the slowly moving lineedged toward the last purchase point, the breath mints and nasal inhalers.
It was out in the parking lot that we heard the first of the rumors50 about a man dying during the inspection51 of the gradeschool, one of the masked and Mylex-suited men, heavy-booted and bulky. Collapsed52 and died, went the story thatwas going around, in a classroom on the second floor.
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evacuate
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| v.遣送；搬空；抽出；排泄；大(小)便 | |
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irritations
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| n.激怒( irritation的名词复数 )；恼怒；生气；令人恼火的事 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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varnish
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| n.清漆；v.上清漆；粉饰 | |
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foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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insulation
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| n.隔离；绝缘；隔热 | |
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microcomputers
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| 微型计算机( microcomputer的名词复数 ) | |
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adhesive
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| n.粘合剂；adj.可粘着的，粘性的 | |
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shipping
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| n.船运（发货，运输，乘船） | |
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systematic
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| adj.有系统的，有计划的，有方法的 | |
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infrared
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| adj./n.红外线(的) | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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generic
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| adj.一般的，普通的，共有的 | |
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bins
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| 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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burnished
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| adj.抛光的，光亮的v.擦亮（金属等），磨光( burnish的过去式和过去分词 )；被擦亮，磨光 | |
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skid
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| v.打滑 n.滑向一侧；滑道 ，滑轨 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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bossy
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| adj.爱发号施令的，作威作福的 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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paperback
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| n.平装本，简装本 | |
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metallic
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| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
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cult
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| n.异教，邪教；时尚，狂热的崇拜 | |
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interface
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| n.接合部位，分界面；v.(使)互相联系 | |
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gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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psychic
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| n.对超自然力敏感的人；adj.有超自然力的 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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spectrum
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| n.谱，光谱，频谱；范围，幅度，系列 | |
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attachment
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| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
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fathom
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| v.领悟，彻底了解 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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ramming
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| n.打结炉底v.夯实（土等）( ram的现在分词 )；猛撞；猛压；反复灌输 | |
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slanted
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| 有偏见的； 倾斜的 | |
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automobiles
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| n.汽车( automobile的名词复数 ) | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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pensive
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| a.沉思的,哀思的,忧沉的 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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minimal
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| adj.尽可能少的，最小的 | |
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gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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aisles
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| n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
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animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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proprietorship
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| n.所有（权）；所有权 | |
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reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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checkout
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| n.（超市等）收银台，付款处 | |
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47
hips
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| 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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48
tunics
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| n.（动植物的）膜皮( tunic的名词复数 )；束腰宽松外衣；一套制服的短上衣；（天主教主教等穿的）短祭袍 | |
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49
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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50
rumors
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| 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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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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