The time of spiders arrived. Spiders in high corners of rooms. Cocoons1 wrapped in spiderwork. Silvery dancingstrands that seemed the pure play of light, light as evanescent news, ideas borne on light. The voice upstairs said:
"Now watch this. Joanie is trying to snap Ralph's patella with a bushido stun3 kick. She makes contact, he crumples,she runs."Denise passed word to Babette that Steffie was routinely examining her chest for lumps. Babette told me.
Murray and I extended the range of our contemplative walks. In town one day he went into small embarrassedraptures over diagonal parking. There was a charm and a native sense to the rows of slanted4 vehicles. This form ofparking was an indispensable part of the American townscape, even when the cars were foreign-made. Thearrangement was not only practical but avoided confrontation5, the sexual assault motif6 of front-to-back parking inteeming city streets.
Murray says it is possible to be homesick for a place even when you are there.
The two-story world of an ordinary main street. Modest, sensible, commercial in an unhurried way, a prewar way,with prewar traces of architectural detail surviving in the upper stories, in copper7 cornices and leaded windows, inthe amphora frieze8 above the dime-store entrance.
It made me think of the Law of Ruins.
I told Murray that Albert Speer wanted to build structures that would decay gloriously, impressively, like Romanruins. No rusty9 hulks or gnarled steel slums. He knew that Hitler would be in favor of anything that might astonishposterity. He did a drawing of a Reich structure that was to be built of special materials, allowing it to crumbleromantically—a drawing of fallen walls, half columns furled in wisteria. The ruin is built into the creation, I said,which shows a certain nostalgia10 behind the power principle, or a tendency to organize the longings11 of futuregenerations.
Murray said, "I don't trust anybody's nostalgia but my own. Nostalgia is a product of dissatisfaction and rage. It's asettling of grievances12 between the present and the past. The more powerful the nostalgia, the closer you come toviolence. War is the form nostalgia takes when men are hard-pressed to say something good about their country."A humid spell of weather. I opened the refrigerator, peered into the freezer compartment13. A strange crackling soundcame off the plastic food wrap, the snug14 covering for half eaten things, the Ziploc sacks of livers and ribs15, allgleaming with sleety16 crystals. A cold dry sizzle. A sound like some element breaking down, resolving itself intoFreon vapors17. An eerie18 static, insistent19 but near subliminal20, that made me think of wintering souls, some form ofdormant life approaching the threshold of perception.
No one was around. I walked across the kitchen, opened the compactor drawer and looked inside the trash bag. Anoozing cube of semi-mangled cans, clothes hangers21, animal bones and other refuse. The bottles were broken, thecartons flat. Product colors were undiminished in brightness and intensity22. Fats, juices and heavy sludges seepedthrough layers of pressed vegetable matter. I felt like an archaeologist about to sift23 through a finding of toolfragments and assorted24 cave trash. It was about ten days since Denise had compacted the Dylar. That particularround of garbage had almost certainly been taken outside and collected by now. Even if it hadn't, the tablets hadsurely been demolished25 by the compactor ram26.
These facts were helpful in my efforts to believe that I was merely passing time, casually27 thumbing through thegarbage.
I unfolded the bag cuffs28, released the latch29 and lifted out the bag. The full stench hit me with shocking force. Was thisours? Did it belong to us? Had we created it? I took the bag out to the garage and emptied it. The compressed bulk satthere like an ironic30 modern sculpture, massive, squat31, mocking. I jabbed at it with the butt32 end of a rake and thenspread the material over the concrete floor. I picked through it item by item, mass by shapeless mass, wondering whyI felt guilty, a violator of privacy, uncovering intimate and perhaps shameful33 secrets. It was hard not to be distractedby some of the things they'd chosen to submit to the Juggernaut appliance. But why did I feel like a household spy?
Is garbage so private? Does it glow at the core with personal heat, with signs of one's deepest nature, clues to secretyearnings, humiliating flaws? What habits, fetishes, addictions34, inclinations35? What solitary36 acts, behavioral ruts? Ifound crayon drawings of a figure with full breasts and male genitals. There was a long piece of twine37 that containeda series of knots and loops. It seemed at first a random38 construction. Looking more closely I thought I detected acomplex relationship between the size of the loops, the degree of the knots (single or double) and the intervalsbetween knots with loops and freestanding knots. Some kind of occult geometry or symbolic39 festoon of obsessions40.
I found a banana skin with a tampon inside. Was this the dark underside of consumer consciousness? I came across ahorrible clotted41 mass of hair, soap, ear swabs, crushed roaches, flip-top rings, sterile42 pads smeared43 with pus andbacon fat, strands2 of frayed44 dental floss, fragments of ballpoint refills, toothpicks still displaying bits of impaled45 food.
There was a pair of shredded46 undershorts with lipstick47 markings, perhaps a memento48 of the Grayview Motel.
But no sign anywhere of a shattered amber49 vial or the remains50 of those saucer-shaped tablets. It didn't matter. I wouldface whatever had to be faced without chemical assistance. Babette had said Dylar was fool's gold. She was right,Winnie Richards was right, Denise was right. They were my friends and they were right.
I decided51 to take another physical. When the results were in, I went to see Dr. Chakravarty in his little office in themedical building. He sat there reading the printout, a man with a puffy face and shadowy eyes, his long hands set flaton the desk, his head wagging slightly.
"Here you are again, Mr. Gladney. We see you so often these days. How nice it is to find a patient who regards hisstatus seriously.""What status?""His status as a patient. People tend to forget they are patients. Once they leave the doctor's office or the hospital,they simply put it out of their minds. But you are all permanent patients, like it or not. I am the doctor, you the patient.
Doctor doesn't cease being doctor at close of day. Neither should patient. People expect doctor to go about thingswith the utmost seriousness, skill and experience. But what about patient? How professional is he?"He did not look up from the printout as he said these things in his meticulous52 singsong.
"I don't think I like your potassium very much at all," he went on. "Look here. A bracketed number withcomputerized stars.""What does that mean?""There's no point your knowing at this stage.""How was my potassium last time?""Quite average in fact. But perhaps this is a false elevation53. We are dealing54 with whole blood. There is the question ofa gel barrier. Do you know what this means?" '"No.""There isn't time to explain. We have true elevation and false elevations55. This is all you have to know.""Exactly how elevated is my potassium?""It has gone through the roof, evidently.""What might this be a sign of?""It could mean nothing, it could mean a very great deal indeed.""How great?""Now we are getting into semantics," he said.
"What I'm trying to get at is could this potassium be an indication of some condition just beginning to manifest itself,some condition caused perhaps by an ingestion, an exposure, an involuntary spillage-intake, some substance in theair or the rain?""Have you in fact come into contact with such a substance?""No," I said.
"Are you sure?"Positive. Why, do the numbers show some sign of possible exposure?""If you haven't been exposed, then they couldn't very well show a sign, could they?"'Then we agree," I said.
"Tell me this, Mr. Gladney, in all honesty. How do you feel?""To the best of my knowledge, I feel very well. First-rate. I feel better than I have in years, relatively56 speaking.""What do you mean, relatively speaking?""Given the fact I'm older now."He looked at me carefully. He seemed to be trying to stare me down. Then he made a note on my record. I might havebeen a child facing the school principal over a series of unexcused absences.
I said, "How can we tell whether the elevation is true or false?""I will send you to Glassboro for further tests. Would you like that? There is a brand-new facility called AutumnHarvest Farms. They have gleaming new equipment. You won't be disappointed, wait and see. It gleams,absolutely.""All right. But is potassium the only thing we have to watch?""The less you know, the better. Go to Glassboro. Tell them to delve57 thoroughly58. No stone unturned. Tell them to sendyou back to me with sealed results. I will analyze59 them down to the smallest detail. I will absolutely pick them apart.
They have the know-how60 at Harvest Farms, the most delicate of instruments, I promise you. The best of third-worldtechnicians, the latest procedures."His bright smile hung there like a peach on a tree.
"Together, as doctor and patient, we can do things that neither of us could do separately. There is not enoughemphasis on prevention. An ounce of prevention, goes the saying. Is this a proverb or a maxim61? Surely professor cantell us.""I'll need time to think about it.""In any case, prevention is the thing, isn't it? I've just seen the latest issue of American Mortician. Quite a shockingpicture. The industry is barely adequate to accommodating the vast numbers of dead."Babette was right. He spoke62 English beautifully. I went home and started throwing things away. I threw away fishinglures, dead tennis balls, torn luggage. I ransacked63 the attic64 for old furniture, discarded lampshades, warped65 screens,bent curtain rods. I threw away picture frames, shoe trees, umbrella stands, wall brackets, highchairs and cribs,collapsible TV trays, beanbag chairs, broken turntables. I threw away shelf paper, faded stationery66, manuscripts ofarticles I'd written, galley67 proofs of the same articles, the journals in which the articles were printed. The more thingsI threw away, the more I found. The house was a sepia maze68 of old and tired things. There was an immensity ofthings, an overburdening weight, a connection, a mortality. I stalked the rooms, flinging things into cardboard boxes.
Plastic electric fans, burnt-out toasters, Star Trek69 needlepoints. It took well over an hour to get everything down tothe sidewalk. No one helped me. I didn't want help or company or human understanding. I just wanted to get the stuffout of the house. I sat on the front steps alone, waiting for a sense of ease and peace to settle in the air around me.
A woman passing on the street said, "A decongestant, an antihistamine70, a cough suppressant, a pain reliever."
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cocoons
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| n.茧，蚕茧( cocoon的名词复数 )v.茧，蚕茧( cocoon的第三人称单数 ) | |
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strands
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| n.（线、绳、金属线、毛发等的）股( strand的名词复数 )；缕；海洋、湖或河的)岸；（观点、计划、故事等的）部份v.使滞留，使搁浅( strand的第三人称单数 ) | |
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stun
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| vt.打昏，使昏迷，使震惊，使惊叹 | |
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slanted
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| 有偏见的； 倾斜的 | |
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confrontation
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| n.对抗，对峙，冲突 | |
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motif
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| n.(图案的)基本花纹，(衣服的)花边；主题 | |
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copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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frieze
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| n.(墙上的)横饰带，雕带 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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nostalgia
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| n.怀乡病，留恋过去，怀旧 | |
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longings
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| 渴望，盼望( longing的名词复数 ) | |
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grievances
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| n.委屈( grievance的名词复数 )；苦衷；不满；牢骚 | |
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compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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snug
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| 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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ribs
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| 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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sleety
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| 雨夹雪的，下雨雪的 | |
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vapors
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| n.水汽，水蒸气，无实质之物( vapor的名词复数 )；自夸者；幻想 [药]吸入剂 [古]忧郁（症）v.自夸，（使）蒸发( vapor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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eerie
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| adj.怪诞的；奇异的；可怕的；胆怯的 | |
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insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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subliminal
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| adj.下意识的，潜意识的；太弱或太快以至于难以觉察的 | |
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hangers
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| n.衣架( hanger的名词复数 )；挂耳 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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sift
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| v.筛撒，纷落，详察 | |
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assorted
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| adj.各种各样的，各色俱备的 | |
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demolished
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| v.摧毁( demolish的过去式和过去分词 )；推翻；拆毁（尤指大建筑物）；吃光 | |
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ram
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| (random access memory)随机存取存储器 | |
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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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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latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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ironic
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| adj.讽刺的，有讽刺意味的，出乎意料的 | |
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squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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shameful
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| adj.可耻的，不道德的 | |
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addictions
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| 瘾( addiction的名词复数 )； 吸毒成瘾； 沉溺； 癖好 | |
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inclinations
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| 倾向( inclination的名词复数 )； 倾斜； 爱好； 斜坡 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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twine
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| v.搓，织，编饰；（使）缠绕 | |
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random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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symbolic
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| adj.象征性的，符号的，象征主义的 | |
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obsessions
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| n.使人痴迷的人（或物）( obsession的名词复数 )；着魔；困扰 | |
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clotted
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| adj.凝结的v.凝固( clot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sterile
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| adj.不毛的，不孕的，无菌的，枯燥的，贫瘠的 | |
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43
smeared
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| 弄脏； 玷污； 涂抹； 擦上 | |
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frayed
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| adj.磨损的v.（使布、绳等）磨损，磨破( fray的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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45
impaled
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| 钉在尖桩上( impale的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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shredded
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| shred的过去式和过去分词 | |
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lipstick
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| n.口红，唇膏 | |
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48
memento
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| n.纪念品，令人回忆的东西 | |
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49
amber
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| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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52
meticulous
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| adj.极其仔细的，一丝不苟的 | |
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53
elevation
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| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
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54
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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55
elevations
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| （水平或数量）提高( elevation的名词复数 )； 高地； 海拔； 提升 | |
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relatively
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| adv.比较...地，相对地 | |
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delve
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| v.深入探究，钻研 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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analyze
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| vt.分析，解析 (=analyse) | |
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know-how
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| n.知识；技术；诀窍 | |
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maxim
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| n.格言，箴言 | |
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62
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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ransacked
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| v.彻底搜查( ransack的过去式和过去分词 )；抢劫，掠夺 | |
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attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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warped
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| adj.反常的；乖戾的；（变）弯曲的；变形的v.弄弯，变歪( warp的过去式和过去分词 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
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stationery
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| n.文具；(配套的)信笺信封 | |
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galley
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| n.（飞机或船上的）厨房单层甲板大帆船；军舰舰长用的大划艇； | |
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maze
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| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
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trek
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| vi.作长途艰辛的旅行；n.长途艰苦的旅行 | |
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antihistamine
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| n.抗组胺剂 | |
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