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

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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