諾貝爾文學經典:《寵兒》第1章Part 14

Would there be a little space, she wondered, a little time, some way to hold off eventfulness, topush busyness into the corners of the room and just stand there a minute or two, naked fromshoulder blade to waist, relieved of the weight of her breasts, smelling the stolen milk again andthe pleasure of baking bread? Maybe this one time she could stop dead still in the middle of acooking meal — not even leave the stove — and feel the hurt her back ought to. Trust things andremember things because the last of the Sweet Home men was there to catch her if she sank?
The stove didn't shudder as it adjusted to its heat. Denver wasn't stirring in the next room. Thepulse of red light hadn't come back and Paul D had not trembled since 1856 and then for eighty-three days in a row. Locked up and chained down, his hands shook so bad he couldn't smoke oreven scratch properly. Now he was trembling again but in the legs this time. It took him a while torealize that his legs were not shaking because of worry, but because the floorboards were and thegrinding, shoving floor was only part of it. The house itself was pitching. Sethe slid to the floorand struggled to get back into her dress. While down on all fours, as though she were holding herhouse down on the ground, Denver burst from the keeping room, terror in her eyes, a vague smileon her lips.
"God damn it! Hush up!" Paul D was shouting, falling, reaching for anchor. "Leave the placealone! Get the hell out!" A table rushed toward him and he grabbed its leg. Somehow he managedto stand at an angle and, holding the table by two legs, he bashed it about, wrecking everything,screaming back at the screaming house. "you.ant to fight, come on! God damn it! She got enough without you. She got enough!"The quaking slowed to an occasional lurch, but Paul D did not stop whipping the table around untileverything was rock quiet. Sweating and breathing hard, he leaned against the wall in the space thesideboard left. Sethe was still crouched next to the stove, clutching her salvaged shoes to her chest.

是否有一小塊空間，一小段時光，她納悶，有可能遠離坎坷，把勞碌拋向屋角，只是赤裸上身站上片刻，卸下乳房的重荷，重新聞到被掠走的奶水，感受烤麪包的樂趣？也許就是這回，在做飯的時候，她能夠僵止不動——甚至不離開爐子——感受她的後背本該感受到的疼痛。難道在她沉淪的時候，有最後一個"甜蜜之家"的男人來拉她一把，她就該信任，就該重新記起嗎？
爐子在適應自己的高溫時沒有抖動。隔壁的丹芙沒有動靜。紅光的搏動沒有回來。而自打1856年起，一連串抖了整整八十三天以後，保羅·D就一直沒再哆嗦過。那時，手銬和腳鐐加身，他的手抖得那麼厲害，以至於不能抽菸，甚至不能正常地抓癢。此刻，他又一次哆嗦起來，不過這次是腿上。他過了一會兒才搞明白，他的雙腿不是因爲焦慮在顫抖，而是隨着地板在抖動，並且轉動和滑移的地板又僅僅是其中的一部分。是這棟房子整個在顛簸。塞絲滑倒在地，掙扎着穿衣服。她四肢匍匐着地，像要把她的房子按在地上。這時，丹芙從起居室裏衝出來，滿眼恐懼，嘴脣上卻掛着一絲隱約的微笑。
"該死的!停下來!"保羅·D一面吼着，一面跌跌撞撞地去抓扶手。"別在這兒搗蛋!滾出去!"一張桌子向他撲來，他抓住了桌腿。他勉強站成了一個角度，舉起桌子四處亂砸一氣，毀壞每一樣東西，衝着尖叫的房子尖叫。"想打架嗎？來吧!媽的!沒有你她已經夠受的了。她受夠了!"地震減弱爲餘震，但保羅·D並未停止四處亂舞桌子，直到一切都死一般寂靜。他靠在牆上碗櫃騰出的地方，大汗淋漓，喘着粗氣。塞絲仍舊蜷縮在爐子旁，將搶救出來的兩隻鞋子抱在胸前。