"THE STRENGTH OF THE vampire1 is that no one will believe in him."
Thank you, Dr. Van Helsing, he thought, putting down his copy Of "Dracula." He sat staring moodily2 at the bookcase, listening to Brahms' second piano concerto3, a whisky sour in his right hand, a cigarette between his lips.
It was true. The book was a hodgepodge of superstitions4 and soap-opera clichés, but that line was true; no one had believed in them, and how could they fight something they didn't even believe in?
That was what the situation had been. Something black and of the night had come crawling out of the Middle Ages. Something with no framework or credulity, something that had been consigned6, fact and figure, to the pages of imaginative literature. Vampires7 were passé; Summers' idylls or Stoker's melodramatics or a brief inclusion in the Britannica or grist for the pulp8 writer's mill or raw material for the B-film factories. A tenuous9 legend passed from century to century.
Well, it was true.
He took a sip10 from his drink and closed his eyes as the cold liquid trickled11 down his throat and warmed his stomach. True, he thought, but no one ever got the chance to know it. Oh, they knew it was something, but it couldn't be that—not that. That was imagination, that was superstition5, there was no such thing as that.
And, before science had caught up with the legend, the legend had swallowed science and everything.
He hadn't found any doweling that day. He hadn't checked the generator12. He hadn't cleaned up the pieces of mirror. He hadn't eaten supper; he'd lost his appetite. That wasn't hard. He lost it most of the time. He couldn't do the things he'd done all afternoon and then come home to a hearty13 meal. Not even after five months.
He thought of the eleven—no, the twelve children that afternoon, and he finished his drink in two swallows.
He blinked and the room wavered a little before him. You're getting blotto, Father, he told himself. So what? he returned. Has anyone more right?
He tossed the book across the room. Begone, Van Helsing and Mina and Jonathan and blood-eyed Count and all! All figments, all driveling extrapolations on a somber14 theme.
A coughing chuckle15 emptied itself from his throat. Outside, Ben Cortman called for him to come out. Be right out, Benny, he thought. Soon as I get my tuxedo16 on.
He shuddered18. and gritted19 his teeth edges together. Be right out. Well; why not? Why not go out? It was a sure way to be free of them.
Be one of them.
He chuckled20 at the simplicity21 of it, then shoved himself up and walked crookedly22 to the bar. Why not? His mind plodded23 on. Why go through all this complexity24 when a flung open door and a few steps would end it all?
For the life of him, he didn't know. There was, of course, the faint possibility that others like him existed somewhere, trying to go on, hoping that someday they would be among their own kind again. But how could he ever find them if they weren't within a day's drive of his house?
He shrugged25 and poured more whisky in the glass; he'd given up the use of jiggers months ago. Garlic on the windows, and nets over the hothouse and burn the bodies and cart the rocks away and, fraction of an inch by fraction of an inch, reduce their unholy numbers. Why kid himself? He'd never find anyone else.
His body dropped down heavily on the chair. Here we are, kiddies, sitting like a bug26 in a rug, snugly27, surrounded by a battalion28 of blood-suckers who wish no more than to sip freely of my bonded29, 100-proof hemoglobin. Have a drink, men, this one's really on me.
His face twisted into an expression of raw, unqualified hatred30. Bastards31! I'll kill every, mother's son of you before I'll give in! His right hand closed like a clamp and the glass shattered in his grip.
He looked down, dull-eyed, at the fragments on the floor, at the jagged piece of glass still in his hand, at the whisky-diluted blood dripping off his palm.
Wouldn't they like to get some of it, though? he. thought. He started up with a furious lurch32 and almost opened the door so he could wave the hand in their faces and hear them howl.
Then he closed his eyes and a shudder17 ran through his body. Wise up, buddy33, he thought. Go bandage your goddamn hand.
He stumbled into the bathroom and washed his hand carefully, gasping34 as he daubed iodine35 into the sliced-open flesh. Then he bandaged it clumsily, his broad chest rising and falling with jerky movements, sweat dripping from his forehead. I need a cigarette, he thought.
In the living room again, he changed Brahms for Bernstein and lit a cigarette. What will I do if I ever run out of coffin36 nails? he wondered, looking at the cigarette's blue trailing smoke. Well, there wasn't much chance of that. He had about a thousand cartons in the closet of Kathy's—He clenched37 his teeth together. In the closet of the larder38, the larder, the larder.
Kathy's room.
He sat staring with dead eyes at the mural while "The Age of Anxiety" pulsed in his ears. Age of anxiety, he mused39. You thought you had anxiety, Lenny boy. Lenny and Benny; you two should meet. Composer, meet corpse40. Mamma, when I grow up I wanna be a wampir like Dada.
Why, bless you, boo, of course you shall.
The whisky gurgled into the `glass. He grimaced41 a little at the pain in his hand and shifted the bottle to his left hand.
He sat down and sipped42. Let the jagged edge of sobriety be now dulled, he thought. Let the crumby balance of clear vision be expunged43, but post haste. I hate `em.
Gradually the room shifted on its gyroscopic center and wove and undulated about his chair. A pleasant haze44, fuzzy at the edges, took over sight He looked at the glass, at the record player. He let his head flop45 from side to side. Outside, they prowled and muttered and waited.
Poor vampires, he thought, poor little cusses, pussyfootin' round my house, so thirsty, so all forlorn.
A thought. He raised a forefinger46 that wavered before his eyes.
Friends, I come before you to discuss the vampire; a minority element if there ever was one, and there was one.
But to concision47: I will sketch48 out the basis for my thesis, which thesis is this: Vampires are prejudiced against.
The keynote of minority prejudice is this: They are loathed49 because they are feared. Thus
He made himself a drink. A long one.
At one time, the Dark and Middle Ages, to be succinct50, the vampire's power was great, the fear of him tremendous. He was anathema51 and still remains52 anathema. Society hates him without ration53.
But are his needs any more shocking than the needs of other animals and men? Are his deeds more outrageous54 than the deeds of the parent who drained the spirit from his child? The vampire may foster quickened heartbeats and levitated55 hair. But is he worse than the parent who gave to society a neurotic56 child who became a politician? Is he worse than `the manufacturer who set up belated foundations with the money he made by handing bombs and guns to suicidal nationalists? Is he worse than the distiller who gave bastardized grain juice to stultify57 further the brains of those who, sober, were incapable58 of a progressive thought? (Nay, I apologize for this calumny59; I nip the brew60 that feeds me.) Is he worse, then, than the publisher who filled ubiquitous racks with lust61 and death wishes? Really, now, search your soul; lovie—is the vampire so bad?
All he does is drink blood.
Why, then, this unkind prejudice, this thoughtless bias62? Why cannot the vampire live where he chooses? Why must he seek out hiding places where none can find him out? Why do you wish him destroyed? Ah, see, you have turned the poor guileless innocent into a haunted animal. He has no means of support, no measures for proper education, he has not the, voting franchise63 No wonder he is compelled to seek out a predatory nocturnal existence;
Robert Neville grunted65 a surly grunt64. Sure, sure, he thought, but would you let your sister marry one?
He shrugged. You got me there, buddy, you got me there.
The music ended. The needle scratched back and forth66 in the black grooves67. He sat there, feeling a chill creeping up his legs. That's what was wrong with drinking too much. You became immune to drunken delights. There was no solace68 in liquor. Before you got happy, you collapsed69. Already the room was straightening out, the sounds outside were starting to nibble70 at his eardrums..
"Come out, Neville!"
His throat moved and a shaking breath passed his lips. Come out. The women were out there, their dresses open or taken off, their flesh waiting for his touch, their lips waiting for—My blood, my blood!
As if it were someone else's hand, he watched his whitened fist rise up slowly, shuddering71, to drive down on his leg. The pain made him suck in a breath of the house's stale air. Garlic. Everywhere the smell of garlic. In his clothes and in the furniture and in his food and even in his drink. Have a garlic and soda72; his mind rattled73 out the attempted joke.
He lurched up and started pacing. What am I going to do now? Go through the routine again? I'll save you the trouble. Reading - drinking - soundproof the house - the women. The women, the lustful74, bloodthirsty, naked women flaunting75 their hot bodies at him. No, not that.
.A shuddering whine76 wrenched77 up through his chest and throat. Goddamn them, what were they waiting for? Did they think he was going to come out and hand himself over?
Maybe I am, maybe I am. He actually found himself jerking off the crossbar from the door. Coming, girls, I'm coming. Wet your lips, now.
Outside, they heard the bar being lifted, and a howl of anticipation78 sounded in the night.
Spinning, he drove his fists one after the, other into the wall until he'd cracked the plaster and broken his skin; Then he stood there trembling helplessly, his teeth chattering79.
After a while it passed. He put the bar back across the door and went into the bedroom. He sank down, on the bed and fell back on' the pillow with a groan80. His left hand beat once, feebly, on the bedspread.
Oh, God, he thought, how long, how long?
收听单词发音 |
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vampire
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| n.吸血鬼 | |
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moodily
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| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
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concerto
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| n.协奏曲 | |
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superstitions
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| 迷信，迷信行为( superstition的名词复数 ) | |
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superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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consigned
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| v.把…置于（令人不快的境地）( consign的过去式和过去分词 )；把…托付给；把…托人代售；丟弃 | |
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vampires
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| n.吸血鬼( vampire的名词复数 )；吸血蝠；高利贷者；（舞台上的）活板门 | |
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pulp
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| n.果肉，纸浆；v.化成纸浆，除去...果肉，制成纸浆 | |
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tenuous
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| adj.细薄的，稀薄的，空洞的 | |
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sip
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| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
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trickled
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| v.滴( trickle的过去式和过去分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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generator
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| n.发电机，发生器 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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somber
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| adj.昏暗的，阴天的，阴森的，忧郁的 | |
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chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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tuxedo
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| n.礼服，无尾礼服 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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gritted
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| v.以沙砾覆盖（某物），撒沙砾于( grit的过去式和过去分词 )；咬紧牙关 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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crookedly
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| adv. 弯曲地，不诚实地 | |
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plodded
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| v.沉重缓慢地走（路）( plod的过去式和过去分词 )；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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complexity
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| n.复杂(性)，复杂的事物 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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bug
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| n.虫子；故障；窃听器；vt.纠缠；装窃听器 | |
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snugly
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| adv.紧贴地；贴身地；暖和舒适地；安适地 | |
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battalion
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| n.营；部队；大队(的人) | |
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bonded
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| n.有担保的，保税的，粘合的 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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bastards
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| 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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lurch
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| n.突然向前或旁边倒；v.蹒跚而行 | |
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buddy
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| n.（美口）密友，伙伴 | |
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gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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iodine
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| n.碘，碘酒 | |
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coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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larder
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| n.食物贮藏室，食品橱 | |
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mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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grimaced
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| v.扮鬼相，做鬼脸( grimace的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sipped
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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expunged
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| v.擦掉( expunge的过去式和过去分词 )；除去；删去；消除 | |
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haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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flop
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| n.失败(者)，扑通一声；vi.笨重地行动，沉重地落下 | |
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forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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concision
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| n.简明，简洁 | |
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sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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loathed
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| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 )；极不喜欢 | |
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succinct
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| adj.简明的，简洁的 | |
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anathema
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| n.诅咒；被诅咒的人(物)，十分讨厌的人(物) | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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ration
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| n.定量(pl.)给养，口粮；vt.定量供应 | |
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54
outrageous
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| adj.无理的，令人不能容忍的 | |
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levitated
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| v.（使）升空，（使）漂浮( levitate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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neurotic
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| adj.神经病的，神经过敏的；n.神经过敏者，神经病患者 | |
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stultify
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| v.愚弄；使呆滞 | |
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incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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calumny
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| n.诽谤，污蔑，中伤 | |
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brew
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| v.酿造，调制 | |
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lust
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| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
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bias
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| n.偏见，偏心，偏袒；vt.使有偏见 | |
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franchise
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| n.特许，特权，专营权，特许权 | |
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grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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grooves
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| n.沟( groove的名词复数 )；槽；老一套；（某种）音乐节奏v.沟( groove的第三人称单数 )；槽；老一套；（某种）音乐节奏 | |
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solace
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| n.安慰；v.使快乐；vt.安慰(物)，缓和 | |
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collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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nibble
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| n.轻咬，啃；v.一点点地咬，慢慢啃，吹毛求疵 | |
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shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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soda
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| n.苏打水；汽水 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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lustful
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| a.贪婪的；渴望的 | |
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flaunting
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| adj.招摇的，扬扬得意的，夸耀的v.炫耀，夸耀( flaunt的现在分词 )；有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
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whine
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| v.哀号，号哭；n.哀鸣 | |
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wrenched
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| 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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anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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chattering
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| 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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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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