AFTER one Fourth of July, Nick, driving home late from town in the big wagon with Joe Garner and his family, passed nine drunken Indians along the road.He remembered there were nine because Joe Garner, driving along in the dusk, pulled up the horses, jumped down into the road and dragged an Indian out of the wheel rut.The Indian had been asleep face down in the sand.Joe dragged him into the bushes and got back up on the wagon-box.
“That makes nine of them,”Joe said,“just between here and the edge of town.”
“Them Indians,”said Mrs.Garner.
Nick was on the back seat with the two Garner boys.He was looking out from the back seat to see the Indian where Joe had dragged him alongside of the road.
“Was it Billy Tableshaw?”Carl asked.
“No.”
“His pants looked mighty like Billy.”
“All Indians wear the same kind of pants.”
“I didn't see him at all,”Frank said.“Pa was down into the road and back up again before I seen a thing.I thought he was killing a snake.”
“Plenty of Indians'll kill snakes tonight, I guess,”Joe Garner said.
“Them Indians,”said Mrs.Garner.
They drove along.The road turned off from the main highway and went up into the hills.It was hard pulling for the horses and the boys got down and walked.The road was sandy.Nick looked back from the top of the hill by the school house.He saw the lights of Petoskey and, off across Little Traverse Bay, the lights of Harbor Springs.They climbed back into the wagon again.
“They ought to put some gravel on that stretch,”Joe Garner said.The wagon went along the road through the woods.Joe and Mrs.Garner sat close together on the front seat.Nick sat between the two boys.The road came out into a clearing.
“Right here was where Pa ran over the skunk.”
“It was further on.”
“It don't make no difference where it was,”Joe said without turning his head.“One place is just as good as another to run over a skunk.”
“I saw two skunks last night,”Nick said.
“Where?”
“Down by the lake.They were looking for dead fish along the beach.”
“They were coons probably,”Carl said.
“They were skunks.I guess I know skunks.”
“You ought to,”Carl said.“You got an Indian girl.”
“Stop talking that way, Carl,”said Mrs.Garner.
“Well, they smell about the same.”
Joe Garner laughed.
“You stop laughing, Joe,”Mrs.Garner said.“I won't have Carl talkthat way.”
“Have you got an Indian girl, Nickie?”Joe asked.
“No.”
“He has too, Pa,”Frank said.“Prudence Mitchell's his girl.”
“She's not.”
“He goes to see her every day.”
“I don't.”Nick, sitting between the two boys in the dark felt hollow and happy inside himself to be teased about Prudence Mitchell.“She ain't my girl,”he said.
“Listen to him,”said Carl.“I see them together every day.”
“Carl can't get a girl,”his mother said,“not even a squaw.”
Carl was quiet.
“Carl ain't no good with girls,”Frank said.
“You shut up.”
“You're all right, Carl,”Joe Garner said.“Girls never got a man anywhere.Look at your pa.”
“Yes, that's what you would say.”Mrs.Garner moved close to Joe as the wagon jolted.“Well, you had plenty of girls in your time.”
“I'll bet pa wouldn't ever have had a squaw for a girl.”
“Don't you think it,”Joe said.“You better watch out to keep Prudie, Nick.”
His wife whispered to him and Joe laughed.
“What you laughing at?”asked Frank.
“Don't you say it, Garner,”his wife warned.Joe laughed again.
“Nickie can have Prudence,”Joe Garner said.“I got a good girl.”
“That's the way to talk,”Mrs.Garner said.
The horses were pulling heavily in the sand.Joe reached out in the dark with the whip.
“Come on, pull into it.You'll have to pull harder than this tomorrow.”
They trotted down the long hill, the wagon jolting.At the farmhouse everybody got down.Mrs.Garner unlocked the door, went inside, and came out with a lamp in her hand.Carl and Nick unloaded the things from the back of the wagon.Frank sat on the front seat to drive to the barn and put up the horses.Nick went up the steps and opened the kitchen door.Mrs.Garner was building a fire in the stove.She turned from pouring kerosene on the wood.
“Good-bye, Mrs.Garner,”Nick said.“Thanks for taking me.”
“Oh shucks, Nickie.”
“I had a wonderful time.”
“We like to have you.Won't you stay and eat some supper?”
“I better go.I think Dad probably waited for me.”
“Well, get along then.Send Carl up to the house, will you?”
“All right.”
“Good night, Nickie!”
“Good night, Mrs.Garner.”
Nick went out the farmyard and down to the barn.Joe and Frank were milking.
“Good night,”Nick said.“I had a swell time.”
“Good night, Nick,”Joe Garner called.“Aren't you going to stay and eat?”
“No, I can't.Will you tell Carl his mother wants him?”
“All right.Good night, Nickie.”
Nick walked barefooted along the path through the meadow below the barn.The path was smooth and the dew was cool on his bare feet.He climbed a fence at the end of the meadow, went down through a ravine, his feet wet in the swamp mud, and climbed up through the dry beech woods until he saw the lights of the cottage.He climbed over the fence and walked around to the front porch.Through the window he saw his father sitting by the table, reading in the light from the big lamp.Nick opened the door and went in.
“Well, Nickie,”his father said,“was it a good day?”
“I had a swell time, Dad.It was a swell Fourth of July.”
“Are you hungry?”
“You bet.”
“What did you do with your shoes?”
“I left them in the wagon at Garner's.”
“Come on out to the kitchen.”
Nick's father went ahead with the lamp.He stopped and lifted the lid of the ice-box.Nick went on into the kitchen.His father brought out a piece of cold chicken on a plate and a pitcher of milk and put them on the table before Nick.He put down the lamp.
“There's some pie too,”he said.“Will that hold you?”
“It's grand.”
His father sat down in a chair beside the oilcloth-covered table.He made a big shadow on the kitchen wall.
“Who won the ball game?”
“Petoskey.Five to three.”
His father sat watching him eat and filled his glass from the milk-pitcher.Nick drank and wiped his mouth on his napkin.His father reached over to the shelf for the pie.He cut Nick a big piece.It was huckleberry pie.
“What did you do, Dad?”
“I went out fshing in the morning.”
“What did you get?”
“Only perch.”
His father sat watching Nick eat the pie.
“What did you do this afternoon?”Nick asked.
“I went for a walk up by the Indian camp.”
“Did you see anybody?”
“The Indians were all in town getting drunk.”
“Didn't you see anybody at all?”
“I saw your friend, Prudie.”
“Where was she?”
“She was in the woods with Frank Washburn.I ran onto them.They were having quite a time.”
His father was not looking at him.
“What were they doing?”
“I didn't stay to fnd out.”
“Tell me what they were doing.”
“I don't know,”his father said.“I just heard them threshing around.”
“How did you know it was them?”
“I saw them.”
“I thought you said you didn't see them.”
“Oh, yes, I saw them.”
“Who was it with her?”Nick asked.
“Frank Washburn.”
“Were they—were they—”
“Were they what?”
“Were they happy?”
“I guess so.”
His father got up from the table and went out of the kitchen screen door.When he came back Nick was looking at his plate.He had been crying.
“Have some more?”His father picked up the knife to cut the pie.
“No,”said Nick.
“You better have another piece.”
“No, I don't want any.”
His father cleared off the table.
“Where were they in the woods?”asked Nick.
“Up back of the camp.”Nick looked at his plate.His father said,“You better go to bed, Nick.”
“All right.”
Nick went into his room, undressed, and got into bed.He heard his father moving around in the living room.Nick lay in the bed with his face in the pillow.
“My heart's broken,”he thought.“If I feel this way my heart must be broken.”
After a while he heard his father blow out the lamp and go into his own room.He heard a wind come up in the trees outside and felt it comein cool through the screen.He lay for a long time with his face in the pillow, and after a while he forgot to think about Prudence and finally he went to sleep.When he awoke in the night he heard the wind in the hemlock trees outside the cottage and the waves of the lake coming in on the shore, and he went back to sleep.In the morning there was a big wind blowing and the waves were running high up on the beach and he was awake a long time before he remembered that his heart was broken.
有一年,七月四日[55]慶典之后,天色已晚,尼克和喬·蓋默一家趕著大篷車從城里回家,路上遇見了九個喝得爛醉的印第安人。他記得是九個,因為正在蒼茫暮色里趕車的喬·蓋默見有個印第安人臉朝下趴在滿是沙子的車轍上睡著了,便勒住馬,跳下車,把他拖開,拖到路邊的矮樹叢里,然后又回到了馭手座上。
“從城外到這里,”喬說,“都遇見九個了。”
“這些印第安人呀!”蓋默太太說。
尼克和蓋默家的兩個男孩坐在后座上。喬把那個印第安人拖到路邊時,尼克一直在后座那兒望著印第安人。
“那人是比利·泰伯肖嗎?”卡爾問。
“不是。”
“看他穿的褲子倒是很像比利。”
“印第安人穿的褲子全都一樣。”
“我壓根就沒有看到。”弗蘭克說,“爸爸跳下車,很快就又回來了,弄得我什么也沒看清。我還以為他下車是去打蛇呢。”
“今天晚上,恐怕很多印第安人出動‘打蛇’哩。”喬·蓋默打趣道。
“這些印第安人呀!”蓋默太太說。
他們繼續(xù)駕車前行,后來離開通衢大道上了盤山路。馬拉車上山很吃力,于是幾個男孩子便跳下車步行。路面上全是沙子。到了學校旁的小山頂上,尼克回頭望去,但見佩托斯基[56]燈火輝煌,目光掠過小特拉弗斯灣,對面的哈伯斯普林斯小鎮(zhèn)也是一片燈海。下山時,他們又回到了車上。
“剛才那段路,應該鋪碎石。”喬·蓋默說。大篷車沿著車道進了林子。喬和他的妻子蓋默太太并排坐在前排。尼克坐在他家的兩個男孩之間。馬車出了林子,來到了一片空地上。
“就是在這兒爸爸趕車軋死了一只臭鼬。”
“是再往前一點兒的地方。”
“在哪兒軋死都是一樣的,”喬頭也沒回地說,“在這兒軋死和在那兒軋死沒什么兩樣。”
“昨晚我看見了兩只臭鼬。”尼克說。
“哪兒看見的?”
“在湖邊。它們正在湖岸上找死魚吃呢。”
“大概是浣熊吧。”卡爾說。
“是臭鼬。臭鼬我想我還是認識的。”
“你應該認識。”卡爾說,“你有個印第安女朋友嘛。”
“別說這種話,卡爾。”蓋默太太說。
“他們的嗅覺差不多同樣靈敏。”[57]
喬·蓋默聽了哈哈大笑。
“別笑啦,喬。”蓋默太太說,“我不許卡爾說這種話。”
“你是不是有個印第安女友,尼基[58]?”喬問。
“沒有。”
“他是有的,爸爸。”弗蘭克說,“普魯登斯·米切爾就是他的女友。”
“不是的。”
“他每天都去見她。”
“沒有的事。”黑暗中尼克坐在兩個男孩之間,心里感到空落落的,但聽見別人說普魯登斯·米切爾是他的女友,內心也有幾分高興。“她不是我的女友!”他說。
“聽他說?!”卡爾說,“我親眼看見他倆天天約會來著。”
“卡爾自己找不到女友嘛,”他母親搶白道,“印第安女友也找不到嘛。”
卡爾不作聲了。
“卡爾在交女友方面是個門外漢。”弗蘭克說。
“你閉嘴。”
“不沾女色是對的,卡爾。”喬·蓋默說,“好色之徒一無所成。要學就學你老爹。”
“嘖,看你油嘴滑舌的。”大篷車顛了一下,蓋默太太趁勢靠在了丈夫身上,“想當初,你還不是交了一大堆女朋友。”
“我敢打賭,爸爸絕不會交印第安女友。”
“你可別想這個,”喬說,“你最好盯牢普魯蒂[59],尼克。”
喬說完,他妻子低聲對他耳語了些什么,他聽后哈哈大笑。
“你在笑什么?”弗蘭克問。
“別告訴他,蓋默。”他妻子警告道。喬又是一陣大笑。
“尼基可以有普魯登斯做女友,”喬·蓋默接下來說道,“我嘛,有你這么個好姑娘做太太。”
“這樣說話才像回事。”蓋默太太說。
馬拉著車在沙路上吃力地前行。喬在黑暗中揚著鞭子。
“拉呀,用勁拉!明天還有更重的活兒要干呢!”
馬加快了步伐,在長長的下山的路上小跑起來,馬車一顛一顛的。到家后,大伙兒下了車。蓋默太太開了門鎖,摸黑進了屋,拿出來了一盞燈。卡爾和尼克把車尾裝的東西卸了下來。弗蘭克坐上馭手座,將大篷車趕到牲口棚里,給馬卸了套。尼克走上臺階,推開廚房的門。蓋默太太正在生爐子,往木柴上澆煤油,聽見門響便轉過了頭。
“再見,蓋默太太,”尼克說,“謝謝你們讓我搭車回來。”
“別見外,尼基。”
“今天玩得很高興。”
“有你我們也很高興。你不留下來吃飯嗎?”
“不了,我還是走吧。爸爸等我恐怕都等急了。”
“好吧,那就不留你了。你去把卡爾喊來,好嗎?”
“好的。”
“再見,尼基。”
“再見,蓋默太太。”
尼克出了房門,去了牲口棚。喬和弗蘭克正在那兒擠牛奶。
“再見,”尼克說,“今天我過得很愉快。”
“再見,尼克。”喬·蓋默大聲回答道,“你不留下來吃飯嗎?”
“不了,我不能待著了。你能不能告訴卡爾,就說他媽媽叫他呢?”
“沒問題。再見,尼基。”
尼克光著腳沿著小路走了,穿過牲口棚旁邊的那片草地。小路平展,赤腳踩在露水上涼絲絲的。到了草地的盡頭,他翻過柵欄,經過一條水溝,踩在泥漿里,腳上滿是泥。隨后,他爬上坡,進了干燥的山毛櫸林子直往前走,遠遠望見了自家的燈光。他翻過柵欄,繞到前門跟前。透過窗戶,他瞧見爸爸正坐在桌前,借著那盞大燈的燈光在看書,于是便推開門走了進去。
“回來啦,尼基?”他的父親說,“玩得高興吧?”
“簡直棒極了,爸爸。今年的國慶慶典非常隆重。”
“餓了吧?”
“那還用說。”
“你的鞋怎么啦?”
“我把鞋忘在蓋默家的馬車上了。”
“來,到廚房里來。”
尼克的父親端起燈走在前邊,到了冰柜那兒停下來,揭開冰柜的蓋。尼克徑自進了廚房。他的父親端來一盤冷雞肉和一罐牛奶,放在尼克面前的桌子上,把手里的燈也放下了。
“還有點兒餡餅呢。”他說,“要吃嗎?”
“棒極啦。”
父親傍著那張鋪著油布的桌子在椅子上坐下,巨大的身影投射在廚房的墻壁上。
“球賽是誰贏了?”
“佩托斯基隊五比三獲勝。”
父親看著尼克吃飯,把罐子里的牛奶倒進他的杯子里。尼克喝了奶,用餐巾擦擦嘴。父親從架子上取來餡餅,給尼克切了一大塊。那是越橘餡餅。
“你今天干什么啦,爸爸?”
“上午去釣了會兒魚。”
“釣到什么魚啦?”
“只不過幾條鱸魚。”
父親坐在那兒看著尼克吃餡餅。
“下午干什么了?”尼克問。
“到印第安人的營地那兒轉了轉。”
“見到什么人了嗎?”
“印第安人全跑到城里酗酒去了。”
“一個人也沒見到嗎?”
“倒是見到你的朋友普魯蒂了。”
“在哪里見到的?”
“她和弗蘭克·沃什伯恩在林子里。我是在那兒碰見他們的。他們玩得挺高興的。”
父親不再看他。
“他們在干什么?”
“我沒停下來仔細看。”
“告訴我,他們在干什么?”
“不知道,”父親說,“只聽見他們跑動的聲音。”
“你怎么知道是他們?”
“我看見他們了。”
“我還以為你說沒看見他們呢。”
“哦,對,我看見他們了。”
“究竟是誰和她在一起?”尼克問。
“弗蘭克·沃什伯恩。”
“他們是不是……是不是……”
“是不是什么?”
“他們是不是玩得很開心?”
“我想是的。“
父親從桌旁站起身,拉開廚房的紗門出去了,回來時見尼克在望著盤子發(fā)呆,眼淚汪汪的。
“再吃點兒吧?”父親拿起刀子為他切餡餅。
“不吃了。”尼克說。
“還是再吃一塊吧。”
“不吃了,一口也不想吃了。”
父親把餐桌收拾干凈了。
“他們在林子里的哪塊地方?”尼克問。
“營地后邊。”尼克呆呆地望著自己的盤子。父親說:“你還是睡覺去吧,尼克。”
“好的。”
尼克回到自己的寢室,脫掉衣服,上了床。他聽見父親在客廳里走來走去的聲音。他趴在床上,把臉埋在枕頭里。
“我的心碎了。”他想,“假如過于傷心,我的心一定會碎的。”
過了一會兒,他聽見父親吹滅了燈,回房間去了。林子里風聲呼嘯,一陣風從紗窗刮進來,帶來了絲絲的涼意。他把臉埋在枕頭上趴了很長時間。后來,他忘掉了一切,不再去想普魯登斯,最終進入了夢鄉(xiāng)。半夜醒來,他聽見鐵杉樹林間風聲呼呼作響,湖里起了浪,在拍打著湖岸,聽著聽著就又睡著了。次日早晨,狂風大作,湖水波翻浪涌,漫到了岸上來。他躺在床上,躺了很長時間才記起自己的心已經碎了。