The Thirteenth Tale- 第54部分

unhappy　birthday。　from　the　day　i　was　born；　grief　was　always　present。　it　settled　like　dust　upon　the　household。　it　covered　everyone　and　everything；　it　invaded　us　with　every　breath　we　took。　it　shrouded　us　in　our　own　separate　miseries。

only　because　i　was　so　cold　could　i　bear　to　contemplate　these　memories。

why　couldn’t　she　love　me？　why　did　my　life　mean　less　to　her　than　my　sister’s　death？　did　she　blame　me　for　it？　perhaps　she　was　right　to。　i　was　alive　now　only　because　my　sister　had　died。　every　sight　of　me　was　a　reminder　of　her　loss。

would　it　have　been　easier　for　her　if　we　had　both　died？

stupefied；　i　walked。　one　foot　in　front　of　the　other；　again　and　again　and　again；　mesmerized。　no　interest　in　where　i　was　heading。　looking　nowhere；　seeing　nothing；　i　stumbled　on。

then　i　bumped　into　something。

‘margaret！　margaret！“

i　was　too　cold　to　be　startled；　too　cold　to　make　my　face　respond　to　he　vast　form　that　stood　before　me；　shrouded　in　tentlike　drapes　of　green　rainproof　fabric。　it　moved；　and　two　hands　came　down　on　my　shoulders　and　gave　me　a　shake。

‘margaret！“

it　was　aurelius。

‘look　at　you！　you’re　blue　with　cold！　quick；　e　with　me。“　he　took　my　arm　and　led　me　briskly　off。　my　feet　stumbled　over　the　ground　behind　him　until　we　came　to　a　road；　a　car。　he　bundled　me　in。　there　was　a　slamming　of　doors；　the　hum　of　an　engine；　and　then　a　blast　of　warmth　around　my　ankles　and　knees。　aurelius　opened　a　thermos　flask　and　poured　a　mug　of　orange　tea。

‘drink！“

i　drank。　the　tea　was　hot　and　sweet。

‘eat！“

i　bit　into　the　sandwich　he　held　out。

in　the　warmth　of　the　car；　drinking　hot　tea　and　eating　chicken　sandwiches；　i　felt　colder　than　ever。　my　teeth　started　to　chatter　and　i　shivered　uncontrollably。

‘goodness　gracious！“　aurelius　exclaimed　softly　as　he　passed　me　one　dainty　sandwich　after　another。　”dear　me！“

the　food　seemed　to　bring　me　to　my　senses　a　little。　“what　are　you　doing　here；　aurelius？”

‘i　came　to　give　you　this；“　he　said；　and　he　reached　over　to　the　back　and　lifted　a　cake　tin　through　the　gap　between　the　seats。

placing　the　tin　on　my　lap；　he　beamed　gloriously　at　me　as　he　removed　the　lid。

inside　was　a　cake。　a　homemade　cake。　and　on　the　cake；　in　curly　icing　letters；　were　three　words：　happy　birthday　margaret。

i　was　too　cold　to　cry。　instead　the　bination　of　cold　and　cake　set　me　talking。　words　emerged　from　me；　randomly；　like　objects　disgorged　by　glaciers　as　they　thaw。　nocturnal　singing；　a　garden　with　eyes；　sisters；　a　baby；　a　spoon。　“and　she　even　knows　the　house；”　i　babbled　while　aurelius　dried　my　hair　with　paper　towels；　“your　house　and　mrs。　love’s。　she　looked　through　the　window　and　thought　mrs。　love　was　like　a　fairytale　grandmother…　don’t　you　see　what　it　means？　”

aurelius　shook　his　head。　“but　she　told　me—”

‘she　lied　to　you；　aurelius！　when　you　came　to　see　her　in　your　brown　suit；　she　lied。　she　has　admitted　it。“

‘bless　me！“　exclaimed　aurelius。　”however　did　you　know　about　that　brown　suit　of　mine？　i　had　to　pretend　to　be　a　journalist；　you　know。“　but　then；　as　what　i　was　telling　him　began　to　sink　in；　”a　spoon　like　mine；　you　say？　and　she　knew　the　house？“

‘she’s　your　aunt；　aurelius。　and　emmeline　is　your　mother。“

aurelius　stopped　patting　my　hair；　and　for　a　long　moment　he　stared　out　of　the　car　window　in　the　direction　of　the　house。　“my　mother；”　he　murmured；　“there。”

i　nodded。

there　was　another　silence；　and　then　he　turned　to　me。　“take　me　to　her；　margaret。”

i　seemed　to　wake　up。　“the　thing　is；　aurelius；　she’s　not　well。”

‘ill？　then　you　must　take　me　to　her。　without　delay！“

‘not　ill；　exactly。“　how　to　explain？　”she　was　injured　in　the　fire；　aurelius。　not　only　her　face。　her　mind。“

he　absorbed　this　new　information；　added　it　to　his　store　of　loss　and　pain；　and　when　he　spoke　again　it　was　with　a　grave　firmness　of　purpose。　“take　me　to　her。”

was　it　illness　that　dictated　my　response？　was　it　the　fact　that　it　was　my　birthday？　was　it　my　own　motherlessness？　these　factors　might　have　lad　something　to　do　with　it；　but　more　significant　than　all　of　them　was　aurelius’s　expression　as　he　waited　for　my　answer。　there　were　a　hundred　and　one　reasons　to　say　no　to　his　demand；　but　faced　with　the　ferocity　of　his　need；　they　faded　to　nothing。

i　said　yes。

。d　　。



REUNION

？小｜说网
my　bath　went　some　way　toward　thawing　me　out；　but　did　nothing　to　soothe　the　ache　behind　my　eyes。　i　gave　up　all　thoughts　of　working　for　the　rest　of　the　afternoon　and　crept　into　bed；　pulling　the　extra　covers　well　up　over　my　ears。　inside　i　was　still　shivering。　in　a　shallow　sleep　i　saw　strange　visions。　hester　and　my　father　and　the　twins　and　my　mother；　visions　in　which　everyone　had　someone　else’s　face；　in　which　everyone　was　someone　else　disguised；　and　even　my　own　face　was　disturbing　to　me　as　it　shifted　and　altered；　sometimes　myself；　sometimes　another。　then　aurelius’s　bright　head　appeared　in　my　dream：　himself；　always　himself；　only　himself；　and　he　smiled　and　the　phantoms　were　banished。　darkness　closed　over　me　like　water；　and　i　sank　to　the　depths　of　sleep。

i　awoke　with　a　headache；　aches　in　my　limbs　and　my　joints　and　my　back。　a　tiredness　that　had　nothing　to　do　with　exertion　or　lack　of　sleep　weighed　me　down　and　slowed　my　thoughts。　the　darkness　had　thickened。　had　i　slept　through　the　hour　of　my　appointment　with　aurelius？　the　thought　nagged　at　me　but　only　very　distantly；　and　long　minutes　passed　before　i　could　rouse　myself　to　look　at　my　watch。　for　during　my　sleep；　an　obscure　sentiment　had　formed　within　me—trepidation？　nostalgia？　excitement？—

and　it　had　given　rise　to　a　sense　of　expectation。

the　past　was　returning！　my　sister　was　near。　there　was　no　doubting　it。　i　couldn’t　see　her；　couldn’t　smell　her；　but　my　inner　ear；　attuned　always　and　only　to　her；　had　caught　her　vibration；　and　it　filled　me　with　a　dark　and　soporific　joy。

there　was　no　need　to　put　off　aurelius。　my　sister　would　find　me；　wherever　i　was。　was　she　not　my　twin？　in　fact；　i　had　half　an　hour　before　i　was　due　to　meet　him　at　the　garden　door。　i　dragged　myself　heavily　from　my　bed　and；　too　cold　and　weary　to　take　off　my　pajamas　before　dressing；　i　pulled　a　thick　skirt　and　sweater　on　over　the　top。　bundled　up　like　a　child　on　firework　night；　i　went　downstairs　to　the　kitchen。　judith　had　left　a　cold　meal　for　me；　but　i　had　no　appetite　and　left　the　food　untouched。　for　ten　minutes　i　sat　at　the　kitchen　table；　longing　to　close　my　eyes　and　not　daring　to；　in　case　i　gave　in　to　the　torpor　that　was　inviting　my　head　toward　the　hard　tabletop。

with　five　minutes　to　spare；　i　opened　the　kitchen　door　and　slipped　into　the　garden。

no　light　from　the　house；　no　stars。　i　stumbled　in　the　darkness；　soft　soil　underfoot　and　the　brush　of　leaves　and　branches　told　me　when　i　had　veered　off　the　path。　out　of　nowhere　a　branch　scratched　my　face　and　i　closed　my　eyes　to　protect　them。　inside　my　head　was　a　half…painful；　half…euphoric　vibration。　i　understood　entirely。　it　was　her　song。　my　sister　was　ing。

i　reached　the　meeting　point。　the　darkness　stirred　itself。　it　was　him。　my　hand　bumped　clumsily　against　him；　then　felt　itself　clasped。

‘are　you　all　right？“

i　heard　the　question；　but　distantly。

‘do　you　have　a　temperature？“

the　words　were　there；　it　was　curious　that　they　had　no　meaning。

i’d　have　liked　to　tell　him　about　the　glorious　vibrations；　to　tell　him　that　my　sister　was　ing；　that　she　would　be　here　with　me　any　minute　now。　i　knew　it；　i　knew　it　from　the　heat　radiating　from　her　mark　on　my　side。　but　the　white　sound　of　her　stood　between　me　and　my　words　and　made　me　dumb。

aurelius　let　go　of　my　hand　to　remove　a　glove；　and　i　felt　his　palm；　strangely　cool　in　the　hot　night；　on　my　forehead。　“you　should　be　in　bed；”　he　said。

i　pulled　at　aurelius’s　sleeve；　a　feeble　tug；　but　enough。　he　followed　me　through　the　garden　as　smoothly　as　a　statue　on　casters。

i　have　no　memory　of　judith’s　keys　in　my　hand；　though　i　must　have　taken　them。　we　must　have　walked　through　the　long　corridors　to　emmeline’s　apartment；　but　that；　too；　has　been　wiped　from　my　mind。　i　do　remember　the　door；　but　the　picture　that　presents　itself　to　my　mind　is　that　it　swung　open　as　we　reached　it；　slowly　and　of　its　own　accord；　which　i　know　to　be　quite　impossible。　i　must　have　unlocked　it；　but　this　piece　of　reality　has　been　lost　and　the　image　of　the　door　opening　by　itself　persists。

my　memory　of　what　happened　in　emmeline’s　quarters　that　night　is　fragmented。　whole　tracts　of　time　have　collapsed　in　on　themselves；　while　other　events　seem　in　my　recollection　to　have　happened　over　and　over　again　in　rapid　succession。　faces　and　expressions　loom　frighteningly　large；　then　emmeline　and　aurelius　appear　as　tiny　marionettes　a　great　distance　away。　as　for　myself；　i　was　possessed；　sleepy；　chilled—　and　distracted　during　the　whole　affair　by　my　own　overwhelming　preoccupation：　my　sister。

by　a　process　of　logic　and　reason；　i　have　attempted　to　place　into　a　meaningful　sequence　images　that　my　mind　recorded　only　inpletely　and　in　random　fashion；　like　events　in　a　dream。

aurelius　and　i　entered　emmeline’s　rooms。　our　step　was　soundless　on　the　deep　carpet。　through　one　doorway　then　another　we　stepped；　until　we　came　to　a　room　with　an　open　door　giving　onto　the　garden。　standing　in　the　doorway　with　her　back　to　us　was　a　white…haired　figure。　sh