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白噪音(White Noise) (英文版)作者:唐·德里罗(Don DeLillo)-第38部分

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d was a series of fleeting gratifications。 He took what he could; then immediately forgot it in the rush of a subsequent pleasure。 It was this forgetfulness I envied and admired。
  The woman at the terminal asked him a number of questions; providing her own replies in a babyish voice。
  Some of the houses in town were showing signs of neglect。 The park benches needed repair; the broken streets needed resurfacing。 Signs of the times。 But the supermarket did not change; except for the better。 It was well…stocked; musical and bright。 This was the key; it seemed to us。 Everything was fine; would continue to be fine; would eventually get even better as long as the supermarket did not slip。
  Early that evening I drove Babette to her class in posture。 We stopped on the parkway overpass and got out to look at the sunset。 Ever since the airborne toxic event; the sunsets had bee almost unbearably beautiful。 Not that there was a measurable connection。 If the special character of Nyodene Derivative (added to the everyday drift of effluents; pollutants; contaminants and deliriants) had caused this aesthetic leap from already brilliant sunsets to broad towering ruddled visionary skyscapes; tinged with dread; no one had been able to prove it。
  〃What else can we believe?〃 Babette said。 〃How else can we explain?〃
  〃I don't know。〃
  〃We're not at the edge of the ocean or desert。 We ought to have timid winter sunsets。 But look at the blazing sky。 It's so beautiful and dramatic。 Sunsets used to last five minutes。 Now they last an hour。〃
  〃Why is that?〃
  〃Why is that?〃 she said。
  This spot on the overpass offered a broad prospect west。 People had been ing here ever since the first of the new sunsets; parking their own cars; standing around in the bitter wind to chat nervously and look。 There were four cars here already; others certain to e。 The overpass had bee a scenic lookout。 The police were reluctant to enforce the parking ban。 It was one of those situations; like the Olympics for the handicapped; that make all the restrictions seem petty。
  Later I drove back to the Congregational church to pick her up。 Denise and Wilder came along for the ride。 Babette in jeans and legwarmers was a fine and stirring sight。 Legwarmers lend a note of paramilitary poise; a hint of archaic warriorhood。 When she shoveled snow; she wore a furry headband as well。 It made me think of the fifth century A。D。 Men standing around campfires speaking in subdued tones in their Turkic and Mongol dialects。 Clear skies。 The fearless exemplary death of Attila the Hun。
  〃How was class?〃 Denise said。
  〃It's going so well they want me to teach another course。〃
  〃In what?〃
  〃Jack won't believe this。〃
  〃In what?〃 I said。
  〃Eating and drinking。 It's called Eating and Drinking: Basic Parameters。 Which; I admit; is a little more stupid than it absolutely has to be。〃
  〃What could you teach?〃 Denise said。
  〃That's just it。 It's practically inexhaustible。 Eat light foods in warm weather。 Drink plenty of liquids。〃
  〃But everybody knows that。〃
  〃Knowledge changes every day。 People like to have their beliefs reinforced。 Don't lie down after eating a heavy meal。 Don't drink liquor on an empty stomach。 If you must swim; wait at least an hour after eating。 The world is more plicated for adults than it is for children。 We didn't grow up with all these shifting facts and attitudes。 One day they just started appearing。 So people need to be reassured by someone in a position of authority that a certain way to do something is the right way or the wrong way; at least for the time being。 I'm the closest they could find; that's all。〃
  A staticky piece of lint clung to the TV screen。
  In bed we lay quietly; my head between her breasts; cushioned as if against some remorseless blow。 I was determined not to tell her about the puter verdict。 I knew she would be devastated to learn that my death would almost surely precede hers。 Her body became the agency of my resolve; my silence。 Nightly I moved toward her breasts; nuzzling into that designated space like a wounded sub into its repair dock。 I drew courage from her breasts; her warm mouth; her browsing hands; from the skimming tips of her fingers on my back。 The lighter the touch; the more determined I was to keep her from knowing。 Only her own desperation could break my will。
  Once I almost asked her to put on legwarmers before we made love。 But it seemed a request more deeply rooted in pathos than in aberrant sexuality and I thought it might make her suspect that something was wrong。
  23
  1 asked my German teacher to add half an hour to each lesson。 It seemed more urgent than ever that I learn the language。 His room was cold。 He wore foul weather gear and seemed gradually to be piling furniture against the windows。
  We sat facing each other in the gloom。 I did wonderfully well with vocabulary and rules of grammar。 I could have passed a written test easily; made top grades。 But I continued to have trouble pronouncing the words。 Dunlop did not seem to mind。 He enunciated for me over and over; scintillas of dry spit flying toward my face。
  We advanced to three lessons a week。 He seemed to shed his distracted manner; to bee slightly more engaged。 Furniture; newspapers; cardboard boxes; sheets of polyethylene continued to accumulate against the walls and windows—items scavenged from ravines。 He stared into my mouth as I did my exercises in pronunciation。 Once he reached in with his right hand to adjust my tongue。 It was a strange and terrible moment; an act of haunting intimacy。 No one had ever handled my tongue before。
  German shepherds still patrolled the town; acpanied by men in Mylex suits。 We weled the dogs; got used to them; fed and petted them; but did not adjust well to the sight of costumed men with padded boots; hoses attached to their masks。 We associated these outfits with the source of our trouble and fear。
  At dinner Denise said; 〃Why can't they dress in normal clothes?〃
  〃This is what they wear on duty;〃 Babette said。 〃It doesn't mean we're in danger。 The dogs have sniffed out only a few traces of toxic material on the edge of town。〃
  〃That's what we're supposed to believe;〃 Heinrich said。 〃If they released the true findings; there'd be billions of dollars in law suits。 Not to mention demonstrations; panic; violence and social disorder。〃
  He seemed to take pleasure in the prospect。 Babette said; 〃That's a little extreme; isn't it?〃
  〃What's extreme; what I said or what would happen?〃
  〃Both。 There's no reason to think the results aren't true as published。〃
  〃Do you really believe that?〃 he said。
  〃Why shouldn't I believe it?〃
  〃Industry would collapse if the true results of any of these investigations were released。〃
  〃What investigations?〃
  〃The ones that are going on all over the country。〃
  'That's the point;〃 she said。 〃Every day on the news there's another toxic spill。 Cancerous solvents from storage tanks; arsenic from smokestacks; radioactive water from power plants。 How serious can it be if it happens all the time? Isn't the definition of a serious event based on the fact that it's not an everyday occurrence?〃
  The two girls looked at Heinrich; anticipating a surgically deft rejoinder。
  〃Forget these spills;〃 he said。 〃These spills are nothing。〃
  This wasn't the direction any of us had expected him to take。 Babette watched him carefully。 He cut a lettuce leaf on his salad plate into two equal pieces。
  〃I wouldn't say they were nothing;〃 she said cautiously。 〃They're small everyday seepages。 They're controllable。 But they're not nothing。 We have to watch them。〃
  〃The sooner we forget these spills; the sooner we can e to grips with the real issue。〃
  〃What's the real issue?〃 I said。
  He spoke with his mouth full of lettuce and cucumber。
  〃The real issue is the kind of radiation that surrounds us every day。 Your radio; your TV; your microwave oven; your power lines just outside the door; your radar speed…trap on the highway。 For years they told us these low doses weren't dangerous。〃
  〃And now?〃 Babette said。
  We watched him use his spoon to mold the mas
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