經典科幻文學:《 再見 多謝你們的魚》第13章
That night, at home, as he was prancing round the house pretending to be tripping through cornfields in slow motion and continually exploding with sudden laughter, Arthur thought he could even bear to listen to the album of bagpipe music he had won. It was eight o’clock and he decided he would make himself, force himself, to listen to the whole record before he phoned her. Maybe he should even leave it till tomorrow. That would be the cool thing to do. Or next week sometime.
No. No games. He wanted her and didn’t care who knew it. He definitely and absolutely wanted her, adored her, longed for her, wanted to do more things than there were names for with her. He actually caught himself saying thinks like “Yippee” as he prances ridiculously round the house. Her eyes, her hair, her voice, everything…
He stopped.
He would put on the record of bagpipe music. Then he would call her.
Would he, perhaps, call her first?
No. What he would do was this. He would put on the record of bagpipe music. He would listen to it, every last banshee wail of it. Then he would call her. That was the correct order. That was what he would do.
He was worried about touching things in case they blew up when he did so.
He picked up the record. It failed to blow up. He slipped it out of its cover. He opened the record player, he turned on the amp. They both survived. He giggled foolishly as he lowered the stylus on to the disc.
He sat and listened solemnly to “A Scottish Soldier”.
He listened to “Amazing Grace”.
He listened to something about some glen or other.
He thought about his miraculous lunchtime.
They had just been on the point of leaving, when they were distracted by an awful outbreak of “yoo-hooing”. The appallingly permed woman was waving to them across the room like some stupid bird with a broken wing. Everyone in the pub turned to them and seemed to be expecting some sort of response.
They hadn’t listened to the bit about how pleased and happy Anjie was going to be about the 4.30p everyone had helped to raise towards the cost of her kidney machine, had been vaguely aware that someone from the next table had won a box of cherry brandy liqueurs, and took a moment or two to cotton on to the fact that the yoo-hooing lady was trying to ask them if they had ticket number 37.
Arthur discovered that he had. He glanced angrily at his watch.
Fenchurch gave him a push.
Go on, she said, go and get it. Don’t be bad tempered. Give them a nice speech about how pleased you are and you can give me a call and tell me how it went. I’ll want to hear the record. Go on.
She flicked his arm and left.
The regulars thought his acceptance speech a little over-effusive. It was, after all, merely an album of bagpipe music.
Arthur thought about it, and listened to the music, and kept on breaking into laughter.
那天夜裏，阿瑟在家裏激動地繞着圈，假裝是在麥田裏用慢動作跳舞，並不時地爆發出一陣陣大笑，阿瑟甚至覺得自己可以忍受他贏來的那張風笛唱片。八點了，在給她打電話之前，他決定要讓自己，強迫自己聽下整張專輯。也許甚至可以把這件事留到明天。那會很酷的。或者下一週的某個時候。
不。不要搞了。他想要她，而且不在乎誰會知道。他絕絕對對完完全全地想要她，愛慕她，渴望她，想要和她做更多的事，那些無法用語言描述的事。他發現自己在白癡地繞圈時居然會說出“Yippee”這樣的表示喜悅的感嘆詞。她的明眸，她的秀髮，她的聲音，一切一切......
他停止了繞圈。
他要開始放那張風笛唱片。然後他要給她打電話。
也許，他可以，先給她打電話？
不行。他要做的是這些：他要播放那張風笛唱片。他會聆聽那張唱片，聆聽每個班西妖精（注1）的哀嚎。接着他再去打電話。這纔是正確的順序。這纔是他要做的。
他小心翼翼，害怕自己手一碰，那玩意兒會爆炸。
他把唱片捏起來。唱片沒有爆炸。他把唱片從封套裏滑出來。他打開唱機，擰開擴音器。他們都還倖存着。他一邊傻笑一邊把唱針放下來。
他坐下來嚴肅地聽完了《一名蘇格蘭士兵》。
他聽完了《奇異恩典》(注2)。
他聽完了某些關於峽谷或其它什麼玩意兒的音樂。
他想起了自己不可思議的午餐時光。
他們當時正要離開，突然被不知哪裏爆發出的一聲噁心的“唷嗬~~”弄得心煩意亂。那個整潔得可怕的女人正在隔着屋子向他們揮手，就像某些折了翅膀的蠢鳥。酒館裏的每個人都轉向他們，並期待着發生些什麼。
他們沒有費心去聽那些關於安潔將對每個人爲她的人工腎捐獻的4.30便士有多麼高興，而是注意到鄰桌的某人似乎贏了一箱櫻桃牌利口酒。他們花了一段時間才明白那個“唷嗬女”正在問他們有沒有37號彩票。
阿瑟發現他有37號彩票。他惱怒地瞅了一眼表。
芬琪詩推了他一把。
“去吧，”她說，“把獎品拿過來。別這麼壞脾氣。給他們好好講一通，告訴他們你有多麼高興，隨後你可以打電話告訴我情況怎麼樣。我想聽聽那張唱片。去吧。”
她拍了一下他的胳膊然後離去了。
那些客人們覺得阿瑟的獲獎感言有些太過激情洋溢了。 畢竟，那只是一張風笛樂專輯。
阿瑟想到這些，聽着音樂，繼續不停地爆發出大笑。
