諾貝爾文學經典:《寵兒》第1章Part 6
"Good God." He backed out the door onto the porch. "What kind of evil you got in here?""It's not evil, just sad. Come on. Just step through."He looked at her then, closely. Closer than he had when she first rounded the house on wet andshining legs, holding her shoes and stockings up in one hand, her skirts in the other. Halle's girl —the one with iron eyes and backbone to match. He had never seen her hair in Kentucky. Andthough her face was eighteen years older than when last he saw her, it was softer now. Because ofthe hair. A face too still for comfort; irises the same color as her skin, which, in that still face, usedto make him think of a mask with mercifully punched out eyes. Halle's woman. Pregnant everyyear including the year she sat by the fire telling him she was going to run. Her three children shehad already packed into a wagonload of others in a caravan of Negroes crossing the river. Theywere to be left with Halle's mother near Cincinnati. Even in that tiny shack, leaning so close to thefire you could smell the heat in her dress, her eyes did not pick up a flicker of light. They were liketwo wells into which he had trouble gazing. Even punched out they needed to be covered, lidded,marked with some sign to warn folks of what that emptiness held. So he looked instead at the firewhile she told him, because her husband was not there for the telling. Mr. Garner was dead and hiswife had a lump in her neck the size of a sweet potato and unable to speak to anyone. She leanedas close to the fire as her pregnant belly allowed and told him, Paul D, the last of the Sweet Homemen. There had been six of them who belonged to the farm, Sethe the only female. Mrs. Garner,crying like a baby, had sold his brother to pay off the debts that surfaced the minute she waswidowed. Then schoolteacher arrived to put things in order. But what he did broke three moreSweet Home men and punched the glittering iron out of Sethe's eyes, leaving two open wells thatdid not reflect firelight.
Now the iron was back but the face, softened by hair, made him trust her enough to step inside herdoor smack into a pool of pulsing red light.
She was right. It was sad. Walking through it, a wave of grief soaked him so thoroughly he wantedto cry. It seemed a long way to the normal light surrounding the table, but he made it — dry-eyed and lucky.
"You said she died soft. Soft as cream," he reminded her.
"That's not Baby Suggs," she said.
"Who then?""My daughter. The one I sent ahead with the boys.""She didn't live?""No. The one I was carrying when I run away is all I got left.
Boys gone too. Both of em walked off just before Baby Suggs died."Paul D looked at the spot where the grief had soaked him. The red was gone but a kind of weepingclung to the air where it had been.
Probably best, he thought. If a Negro got legs he ought to use them. Sit down too long, somebodywill figure out a way to tie them up. Still ... if her boys were gone ...
"No man? You here by yourself?""Me and Denver," she said.
"我的上帝啊。"他退出門，直退到門廊，"你這兒的邪惡是哪一種？" "它不邪惡，只是悲傷。來吧。走過來。" 這時，他開始仔細地端詳她。比剛纔她一手提着鞋襪、一手提着裙子，兩腿溼淋淋亮晶晶地從房後繞出來的時候端詳得更仔細。黑爾的姑娘——鐵的眼睛，鐵的脊樑。在肯塔基他從來沒見過她的頭髮。她的臉儘管比上次見時多經了十八年風雨，現在卻更柔和了。是因爲頭髮。一張平靜得毋須撫慰的臉；那張平靜的臉上與她皮膚同色的虹膜，讓他不時想起一副仁慈的挖空了眼睛的面具。黑爾的女人。年年懷孕，包括她坐在爐火旁告訴他她要逃走的那一年。她的三個孩子已經被她塞進別人的大車，隨着一車隊的黑人過了河。他們將留在辛辛那提附近黑爾的母親那裏。在那間小木屋裏，儘管靠火這樣近，你甚至能聞到她裙子裏的熱氣，她的眼裏還是沒有映出一絲光芒。它們就像兩口深井，讓他不敢凝視。即使毀掉了，它們仍需要蓋上，遮住，標上記號，警告人們提防那空虛所包含的一切。所以她開口的時候他就把目光投向火，因爲她的丈夫不在那裏聽她訴說。加納先生死了，他的太太脖子上又長了一個甘薯那麼大的包，不能講話。她挺着大肚子，儘量靠近火堆，傾訴給他，保羅·D，最後一個"甜蜜之家"的男人。農莊上的奴隸一共有六個，塞絲是他們中唯一的女性。加納太太哭得像個孩子似的賣掉了保羅·D的哥哥，以償還剛一守寡就欠下的債務。然後"學校老師"來到，收拾這副爛攤子。但是他的所作所爲就是再毀掉三個"甜蜜之家"的男人，摳掉塞絲眼中的閃亮的鐵，只留下兩口不反射火光的深井。
現在鐵又回來了，可是有了那張因頭髮而柔和的臉，他就能夠信任她，邁進她的門，跌入一片顫動的紅光。
她說得對。是悲傷。走過紅光的時候，一道悲傷的浪頭如此徹底地浸透了他，讓他想失聲痛哭。桌子周圍平常的光亮顯得那麼遙遠；然而，他走過去了——沒有流淚，很幸運。
"你說她死得很輕柔。輕柔得像奶油似的。"他提醒她。
"那不是貝比·薩格斯。"她說。
"那是誰呢？" "我的女兒。跟兩個男孩一起先送走的那個。" "她沒活下來？" "沒有。我現在就剩下逃跑時懷的那個了。
兒子也都走了。他們倆正好是在貝比·薩格斯去世之前出走的。" 保羅·D看着那個用悲傷浸透他的地方。紅光消散了，可是一種啜泣的聲音還滯留在空氣裏。
也許這樣最好，他想。一個黑人長了兩條腿就該用。坐下來的時間太長了，就會有人想方設法拴住它們。不過……如果她的兒子們走了……
"沒有男人？就你自己在這兒？" "我和丹芙。"她說。
