诺贝尔文学经典:《宠儿》第3章Part 17

Paul D had only begun, what he was telling her was only the beginning when her fingers on hisknee, soft and reassuring, stopped him. Just as well. Just as well. Saying more might push themboth to a place they couldn't get back from. He would keep the rest where it belonged: in thattobacco tin buried in his chest where a red heart used to be. Its lid rusted shut. He would not pry itloose now in front of this sweet sturdy woman, for if she got a whiff of the contents it wouldshame him. And it would hurt her to know that there was no red heart bright as Mister's combbeating in him.
Sethe rubbed and rubbed, pressing the work cloth and the stony curves that made up his knee. Shehoped it calmed him as it did her. Like kneading bread in the half-light of the restaurant kitchen. Before the cook arrived when she stood in a space no wider than a bench is long, back behind andto the left of the milk cans. Working dough. Working, working dough. Nothing better than that tostart the day's serious work of beating back the past.
UPSTAIRS was dancing. A little two-step, two-step, make-a-new-step, slide, slide and strut ondown.
Denver sat on the bed smiling and providing the music.
She had never seen Beloved this happy. She had seen her pouty lips open wide with the pleasure ofsugar or some piece of news Denver gave her. She had felt warm satisfaction radiating fromBeloved's skin when she listened to her mother talk about the old days. But gaiety she had never seen. Not ten minutes had passed since Beloved had fallen backward tothe floor, pop-eyed, thrashing and holding her throat. Now, after a few seconds lying in Denver'sbed, she was up and dancing.
"Where'd you learn to dance?" Denver asked her.

保罗·D才刚刚开始，他告诉她的只不过是个开头，可她把手指放上他的膝盖，柔软而抚慰，让他就此打住。也好。也好。再多说可能会把他们两个都推上绝境，再也回不来。他将把其余的留在它们原该待的地方：在他胸口埋藏的烟草罐里；那胸口，曾经有一颗鲜红的心跳动。罐子的盖子已经锈死了。现在他不会在这个甜蜜而坚强的女人面前把它撬开，如果让她闻见里面的东西，他会无地自容的。而知道他的胸膛里并没有一颗像“先生”的鸡冠一样鲜红的心在跳荡，也会使她受到伤害。
塞丝紧按劳动布和他膝盖嶙峋的曲线，摩挲着，摩挲着。她希望这会像平息自己一样平息他。就像在昏暗的餐馆厨房里揉面团。在厨子到来之前，站在不比一条长凳的长更宽的地方，在牛奶罐的左后侧，揉着面团。揉着，揉着面团。像那样开始一天的击退过去的严肃工作，再好不过了。
楼上，宠儿在跳舞。轻轻的两步，两步，再跳一步，滑步，滑步，高视阔步。
丹芙坐在床上，笑着提供音乐伴奏。
她从来没见过宠儿这样快活。宠儿的嘴平时总是撅着，只是吃起糖来或者丹芙告诉她件什么事时才高兴地咧开。在聆听妈妈讲述过去的日子时，丹芙也曾经感受到宠儿通身发出的心满意足的温暖气息。但从未见过她快活。仅仅十分钟之前，宠儿还四仰八叉地倒在地板上，眼球突出，掐住自己的喉咙扭来扭去。现在，在丹芙床上躺了没几秒钟，她已经起来跳舞了。
“你在哪儿学的跳舞？”丹芙问她。