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09-04-26 &匿名提问
What is the Chinese
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Adrienne wasn’t in the bed when Paul woke on Tues-day morning. He’d seen her crying during the night but had said nothing, knowing that speaking would bring him to tears as well. But the denial left him ragged and unable to sleep for hours. Instead, he lay awake as she fell asleep in his arms, nuzzling against her, not wanting to let go, as if trying to make up for the year they wouldn’t be together.She’d folded his clothes for him, the ones that had been in the dryer, and Paul pulled out what he needed for the day before packing the rest in his duffel bags. After he showered and dressed, he sat on the side of the bed, pen in hand, scribbling his thoughts on paper. Leaving the note in his room, he brought his things downstairs and left them near the front door. Adrienne was in the kitchen, standing over the stove and stirring a pan of scrambled eggs, a cup of coffee on the counter beside her. When she turned, he could see that her eyes were rimmed in red.“Hi,” he ventured.“Hi,” she said, turning away. She began stirring the eggs more quickly, keeping her eyes on the pan. “I figured you might want some breakfast before you go.”“Thank you,” he said.“I brought a Thermos from home when I came, and if you want some coffee for the trip, you can take it with you.”“Thank you, but that’s okay. I’ll he fine.”She kept stirring the eggs. “If you want a couple of sand-wiches, I can throw those together, too.”Paul moved toward her. “You don’t have to do that. I can get something later. And to be honest, I doubt if I’ll he hungry anyway.”She didn’t seem to be listening, and he put his hand on her back. He heard her exhale shakily, as if trying to keep from crying.“Hey.“I’m okay,” she whispered.“You sure?”She nodded and sniffed as she removed the pan from the burner. Dabbing at her eyes, she still refused to look at him. Seeing her this way reminded him of their first encounter on the porch, and he felt his throat constrict. He couldn’t believe that less than a week had passed since then.“Adrienne. . . don’t..She looked up at him then.“Don’t what? Be sad? You’re going to Ecuador and I have to go back to Rocky Mount. Can I help it if I don’t want this to end just yet?”“I don’t either.”“And that’s why I’m sad. Because I know that, too.” She hesitated, trying to stay in control of her feelings. “You know, when I got up this morning, I told myself I wasn’t going to cry again. I told myself that I’d be strong and happy, so that you would remember me that way. But when I heard the shower come on, it just hit me that when I wake up tomorrow, you’re not going to be here, and I couldn’t help it. But I’ll be okay. I really will. I’m tough.”She said it as though she were trying to convince herself. Paul reached for her hand.“Adrienne . . . last night, after you went to sleep, I got to thinking that maybe I could stay a little while longer. An-other month or two isn’t going to make much difference, and that way we could be together—”She shook her head, cutting him off.“No,” she said, “You can’t do that to Mark. Not after all that you two have been through. And you need this, Paul. It’ if you don’t go now, part of me won-ders if you ever will. Spending more time with me isn’t going to make it any easier to say good-bye when the time comes, and I couldn’t live with myself knowing that I was the one who kept you and your son apart. Even if we planned for your leaving the next time, I’d still cry then, too.”She flashed a brave smile before going on. “You can’t stay. We both knew you were leaving before the we part of us even began. Even though it’s hard, both of us also know it’s the right thing to do—that’s the way it is when you’re a parent. Sometimes there are sacrifices you have to make, and this is one of them.”He nodded, his lips pressed together. He knew she was right hut wished desperately that she wasn’t.“Will you promise that you’ll wait for me?” he asked fi-nally, his voice ragged.“Of course. I thought you were leaving forever, I’d be crying so hard, we’d have to eat breakfast in a rowboat,”Despite everything he laughed, and Adrienne leaned into him. She kissed him before letting him hold her. He could feel the warmth of her body, smell the faintest trace of perfume. She felt so good in his arms. So perfect.“I don’t know how or why it happened, but I think I was meant to come here,” he said. “To meet you. For so many years, I’ve been missing something in my life, but I didn’t know what it was. And now I do.”She closed her eyes. “Me too,” she whispered.He kissed her hair, then rested his cheek against her.“Will you miss me?”Adrienne forced herself to smile. “Every single minute.”They had breakfast together. Adrienne wasn’t hungry, but she forced herself to eat, forced herself to smile now and then. Paul picked at his food, taking longer than usual to clean his plate, and when they were finished, they brought the dishes to the sink.It was almost nine o’clock, and Paul led her past the front desk toward the door. He lifted one duffel bag at a time to slin Adrienne held the leather pouch with his tickets and passport, which she handed to him.“I guess this is it,” he said.Adrienne pressed her lips together. Like hers, Paul’s eyes were red around the edges, and he kept them downcast, as if trying to hide them.“You know how to reach me at the clinic. I don’t know how good the mail service is, but letters should reach me. Mark’s always gotten everything Martha has sent him.”“Thanks.”He shook the pouch. “I have your address, too, in here. I’ll write to you when I get there. And call, too, when I get the chance.”“Okay.”He reached out to touch her cheek, and she leaned into his hand. They both knew there wasn’t anything more to say.She followed him out the door and down the steps, watching as he loaded the duffel bags into the backseat of the car. After closing the door, he stared at her a long time, unwilling to break the connection, wishing again that he didn’t have to go. Finally he moved toward her, kissed her on both cheeks and on her lips. He took her in his arms.Adrienne squeezed her eyes shut. He wasn’t leaving for-ever, she told herself. They were
they would have all the time in the world when he got back. They would grow old together. She’d lived this long with-out him already—what was one more year, right?But it wasn’t that easy. She knew that if her children were older, she would join him in Ecuador. If his son didn’t need him, he could stay here, with her. Their lives were di-verging because of responsibilities to others, and it sud-denly seemed cruelly unfair to Adrienne. How could their chance at happiness come down to this?Paul took a deep breath and finally moved away. He glanced to the side for a moment, then back at her, dabbing at his eyes.She followed him around to the driver’s side and watched as he got in. With a weak smile, he put the key in the ignition and turned it, revving the engine to life. She stepped back from the open door and he closed it, then rolled down the window.“One year,” he said, “and I’ll be back. You have my word on that.”“One year,” she whispered in response.He gave her a sad smile, then put the car in reverse, and with that, the car began backing out. She turned to watch him, aching inside as he stared back at her.The car turned as it reached the highway, and he pressed his hand to the glass one last time. Adrienne raised her hand, watching the car roll forward, away from Rodanthe, away from her.She stood in the drive as the car grew smaller in the dis-tance and the noise of the engine faded away. Then, a mo-ment later, he was gone, as if he’d never been there at all.The morning was crisp, blue skies with puffs of white. A flock of terns flew overhead. Purple and yellow pansies had opened their petals to the sun. Adrienne turned and made her way toward the door.Inside, it looked the same as the day she’d arrived. Noth-ing was out of place. He’d cleaned the fireplace yesterday and stacked new cor the rockers had been put back into their original position. The front desk looked orderly, with every key back in its place.But the smell remained. The smell of their breakfast to-gether, the smell of aftershave, the smell of him, lingering on her hands and on her face and on her clothes.It was too much for Adrienne, and the noises of the Inn at Rodanthe were no longer what they had once been. No longer were there echoes of quiet conversations, or the sound of water rushing through the pipes, or the rhythm of footfalls as he moved about in his room. Gone was the roar of waves and the persistent drumming of the storm, the crackling of the fire. Instead, the Inn was filled with the sounds of a woman who wanted only to be comforted by the man she loved, a woman who could do nothing else but cry.
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The night of the play was cool and crisp, the sky absolutely clear without a hint of clouds. We had to arrive an hour early, and I’d been feeling pretty bad all day about the way I’d talked to Jamie the night before. She’d never been anything but nice to me, and I knew that I’d been a jerk. I saw her in the hallways between classes, and I wanted to go up to apologize to her for what I’d said, but she’d sort of slip back into the crowd before I got the chance.  She was already at the Playhouse by the time I finally arrived, and I saw her talking to Miss Garber and Hegbert, off to one side, over by the curtains.  Everyone was in motion, working off nervous energy, but she seemed strangely lethargic. She hadn’t put on her costume yet-she was supposed to wear a white, flowing dress to give that angelic appearance-and she was still wearing the same sweater she’d worn at school. Despite my trepidation at how she might react, I walked up to the three of them. “Hey, Jamie,” I said. “Hello, Reverend . . . Miss Garber.” Jamie turned to me. “Hello, Landon,” she said quietly. I could tell she’d been thinking about the night before, too, because she didn’t smile at me like she always did when she saw me. I asked if I could talk to her alone, and the two of us excused ourselves. I could see Hegbert and Miss Garber watching us as we took a few steps off to the side, out of hearing distance. I glanced around the stage nervously. “I’m sorry about those things I said last night,” I began. “I know they probably hurt your feelings, and I was wrong to have said them.” She looked at me, as if wondering whether to believe me. “Did you mean those things you said?” she finally asked.  “I was just in a bad mood, that’s all. I get sort of wound up sometimes.” I knew I hadn’t really answered her question. “I see,” she said. She said it as she had the night before, then turned toward the empty seats in the audience. Again she had that sad look in her eyes.  “Look,” I said, reaching for her hand, “I promise to make it up to you.” Don’t ask me why I said it-it just seemed like the right thing to do at that moment.  For the first time that night, she began to smile. “Thank you,” she said, turning to face me. “Jamie?” Jamie turned. “Yes, Miss Garber?” “I think we’re about ready for you.” Miss Garber was motioning with her hand. “I’ve got to go,” she said to me. “I know.” “Break a leg?” I said. Wishing someone luck before a play is supposed to be bad luck. That’s why everyone tells you to “break a leg.” I let go of her hand. “We both will. I promise.” After that, we had to get ready, and we went our separate ways. I headed toward the men’s dressing room. The Playhouse was fairly sophisticated, considering that it was located in Beaufort, with separate dressing rooms that made us feel as if we were actual actors, as opposed to students.  My costume, which was kept at the Playhouse, was already in the dressing room.  Earlier in the rehearsals we’d had our measurements taken so that they could be altered, and I was getting dressed when Eric walked in the door unannounced. Eddie was still in the dressing room, putting on his mute bum’s costume, and when he saw Eric he got a look of terror in his eyes. At least once a week Eric gave him a wedgie, and Eddie kind of hightailed it out of there as fast as he could, pulling one leg up on his costume on the way out the door. Eric ignored him and sat on the dressing table in front of the mirror.  “So,” Eric said with a mischievous grin on his face, “what are you going to do?” I looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?” I asked. “About the play, stupid. You gonna flub up your lines or something?” I shook my head. “No.” “You gonna knock the props over?” Everyone knew about the props. “I hadn’t planned on it,” I answered stoically. “You mean you’re going to do this thing straight up?” I nodded. Thinking otherwise hadn’t even occurred to me.  He looked at me for a long time, as if he were seeing someone he’d never seen before. “I guess you’re finally growing up, Landon,” he said at last. Coming from Eric, I wasn’t sure whether it was intended as a compliment.  Either way, though, I knew he was right. In the play, Tom Thornton is amazed when he first sees the angel, which is why he goes around helping her as she shares Christmas with those less fortunate.  The first words out of Tom’s mouth are, “You’re beautiful,” and I was supposed to say them as if I meant them from the bottom of my heart. This was the pivotal moment in the entire play, and it sets the tone for everything else that happens afterward. The problem, however, was that I still hadn’t nailed this line yet.  Sure, I said the words, but they didn’t come off too convincingly, seeing as I probably said the words like anyone would when looking at Jamie, with the exception of Hegbert. It was the only scene where Miss Garber had never said the wordmarvelous, so I was nervous about it. I kept trying to imagine someone else as the angel so that I could get it just right, but with all the other things I was trying to concentrate on, it kept getting lost in the shuffle.  Jamie was still in her dressing room when the curtains finally opened. I didn’t see her beforehand, but that was okay. The first few scenes didn’t include her anyway-they were mainly about Tom Thornton and his relationship with his daughter. Now, I didn’t think I’d be too nervous when I stepped out on stage, being that I’d rehearsed so much, but it hits you right between the eyes when it actually happens. The Playhouse was absolutely packed, and as Miss Garber had predicted, they’d had to set up two extra rows of seats all the way across the back.  Normally the place sat four hundred, but with those seats there were at least another fifty people sitting down. In addition, people were standing against the walls, packed like sardines. As soon as I stepped on stage, everyone was absolutely quiet. The crowd, I noticed, was mainly old ladies of the blue-haired type, the kind that play bingo and drink Bloody Marys at Sunday brunch, though I could see Eric sitting with all my friends near the back row. It was downright eerie, if you know what I mean, to be standing in front of them while everyone waited for me to say something. So I did the best I could to put it out of my mind as I did the first few scenes in the play. Sally, the one-eyed wonder, was playing my daughter, by the way, because she was sort of small, and we went through our scenes just as we’d rehearsed them. Neither of us blew our lines, though we weren’t spectacular or anything. When we closed the curtains for act two, we had to quickly reset the props. This time everyone pitched in, and my fingers escaped unscathed because I avoided Eddie at all costs. I still hadn’t seen Jamie-I guess she was exempt from moving props because her costume was made of light material and would rip if she caught it on one of those nails-but I didn’t have much time to think about her because of all we had to do. The next thing I knew, the curtain was opening again and I was back in Hegbert Sullivan’s world, walking past storefronts and looking in windows for the music box my daughter wants for Christmas. My back was turned from where Jamie entered, but I heard the crowd collectively draw a breath as soon as she appeared on stage. I thought it was silent before, but now it went absolutely hush still. Just then, from the corner of my eye and off to the side of the stage, I saw Hegbert’s jaw quivering. I readied myself to turn around, and when I did, I finally saw what it was all about. For the first time since I’d known her, her honey-colored hair wasn’t pulled into a tight bun. Instead it was hanging loosely, longer than I imagined, reaching below her shoulder blades. There was a trace of glitter in her hair, and it caught the stage lights, sparkling like a crystal halo. Set against her flowing white dress tailored exactly for her, it was absolutely amazing to behold. She didn’t look like the girl I’d grown up with or the girl I’d come recently to know. She wore a touch of makeup, too-not a lot, just enough to bring out the softness of her features. She was smiling slightly, as if she were holding a secret close to her heart, just like the part called for her to do.  She looked exactly like an angel. I know my jaw dropped a little, and I just stood there looking at her for what seemed like a long time, shocked into silence, until I suddenly remembered that I had a line I had to deliver. I took a deep breath, then slowly let it out.  “You’re beautiful,” I finally said to her, and I think everyone in the whole auditorium, from the blue-haired ladies in front to my friends in the back row, knew that I actually meant it. I’d nailed that line for the very first time.
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