carson mccullers - the heart is a lonely hunter-第3部分

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boisterous。　Now　and　then　his　gaze　passed　on　to　the　mute　who　
sat　by　himself　at　one　of　the　middle　tables；　or　to　others　of　the　
customers　before　the　counter。　But　he　always　turned　back　to　
the　drunk　in　overalls。　The　hour　grew　later　and　Biff　continued　
to　wait　silently　behind　the　counter。　Then　at　last　he　gave　the　
restaurant　a　final　survey　and　went　toward　the　door　at　the　back　
which　led　upstairs。　
Quietly　he　entered　the　room　at　the　top　of　the　stairs。　It　was　dark　
inside　and　he　walked　with　caution。　After　he　had　gone　a　few　
paces　his　toe　struck　something　hard　and　he　reached　down　and　
felt　for　the　handle　of　a　suitcase　on　the　floor。　He　had　only　been　
in　the　room　a　few　seconds　and　was　about　to　leave　when　the　
light　was　turned　on。　
Alice　sat　up　in　the　rumpled　bed　and　looked　at　him。　'What　you　
doing　with　that　suitcase？'　she　asked。　'Can't　you　get　rid　of　that　
lunatic　without　giving　him　back　what　he's　already　drunk　up？'　
'Wake　up　and　go　down　yourself。　Call　the　cop　and　let　him　get　
soused　on　the　chain　gang　with　cornbread　and　peas。　Go　to　it；　
Misses　Brannon。'　
'I　will　all　right　if　he's　down　there　tomorrow。　But　you　leave　that　
bag　alone。　It　don't　belong　to　that　sponger　any　more。'　
'I　know　spongers；　and　Blount's　not　one；'　Biff　said。　'Myself—I　
don't　know　so　well。　But　I'm　not　that　kind　of　a　thief。'　
Calmly　Biff　put　down　the　suitcase　on　the　steps　outside。

11


The　air　was　not　so　stale　and　sultry　in　the　room　as　it　was　
downstairs。　He　decided　to　stay　for　a　short　while　and　douse　his　
face　with　cold　water　before　going　back。　
'I　told　you　already　what　I'll　do　if　you　don't　get　rid　of　that　
fellow　for　good　tonight。　In　the　daytime　he　takes　them　naps　at　
the　back；　and　then　at　night　you　feed　him　dinners　and　beer。　For　
a　week　now　he　hasn't　paid　one　cent。　And　all　his　wild　talking　
and　carrying…on　will　ruin　any　decent　trade。'　
'You　don't　know　people　and　you　don't　know　real　business；'　
Biff　said。　〃The　fellow　in　question　first　came　in　here　twelve　


days　ago　and　he　was　a　stranger　in　the　town。　The　first　week　he　
gave　us　twenty　dollars'　worth　of　trade。　Twenty　at　the　
minimum。'　
'And　since　then　on　credit；'　Alice　said。　Tive　days　on　credit；　and　
so　drunk　it's　a　disgrace　to　the　business。　And　besides；　he's　
nothing　but　a　bum　and　a　freak。'　
'I　like　freaks；'　Biff　said。　
'I　reckon　you　dol　I　just　reckon　you　certainly　ought　to；　Mister　
Brannon—being　as　you're　one　yourself。'　
He　rubbed　his　bluish　chin　and　paid　her　no　attention。　For　the　
first　fifteen　years　of　their　married　life　they　had　called　each　
other　just　plain　Biff　and　Alice。　Then　in　one　of　their　quarrels　
they　had　begun　calling　each　other　Mister　and　Misses；　and　
since　then　they　had　never　made　it　up　enough　to　change　it。　
Tm　just　warning　you　he'd　better　not　be　there　when　I　come　
down　tomorrow。'　
Biff　went　into　the　bathroom；　and　after　he　had　bathed　his　face　
he　decided　that　he　would　have　time　for　a　shave。　His　beard　was　
black　and　heavy　as　though　it　had　grown　for　three　days。　He　
stood　before　the　mirror　and　rubbed　his　cheek　meditatively。　He　
was　sorry　he　had　talked　to　Alice。　With　her；　silence　was　better。　
Being　around　that　woman　always　made　him　different　from　his　
real　self。　It　made　him　tough　and　small　and　common　as　she　
was。　Biff's　eyes　were　cold　and　staring；　half…concealed　by　the　
cynical　droop　of　his　eyelids。　On　the　fifth　finger　of　his　
calloused　hand　there　was　a　woman's　wedding　ring。　The　door　
was　open　behind　him；　and　in　the　mirror　he　could　see　Alice　
lying　in　the　bed。　
'Listen；'　he　said。　〃The　trouble　with　you　is　that　you　don't　have　
any　real　kindness。　Not　but　one　woman　Fve　ever　known　had　
this　real　kindness　I'm　talking　about'12　

'Well；　I've　known　you　to　do　things　no　man　in　this　world　would　
be　proud　of。　I've　known　you　to'　
'Or　maybe　it's　curiosity　I　mean。　You　don't　ever　see　or　notice　
anything　important　that　goes　on。　You　never　watch　and　think　
and　try　to　figure　anything　out。　Maybe　that's　the　biggest　
difference　between　you　and　me；　after　all。'　
Alice　was　almost　asleep　again；　and　through　the　mirror　he　
watched　her　with　detachment。　There　was　no　distinctive　point　


about　her　on　which　he　could　fasten　his　attention；　and　his　gaze　
glided　from　her　pale　brown　hair　to　the　stumpy　outline　of　her　
feet　beneath　the　cover。　The　soft　curves　of　her　face　led　to　the　
roundness　of　her　hips　and　thighs。　When　he　was　away　from　her　
there　was　no　one　feature　that　stood　out　in　his　mind　and　he　
remembered　her　as　a　complete；　unbroken　figure。　
〃The　enjoyment　of　a　spectacle　is　something　you　have　never　
known；'　he　said。　
Her　voice　was　tired。　〃That　fellow　downstairs　is　a　spectacle；　all　
right；　and　a　circus　too。　But　I'm　through　putting　up　with　him。'　
'Hell；　the　man　don't　mean　anything　to　me。　He's　no　relative　or　
buddy　of　mine。　But　you　don't　know　what　it　is　to　store　up　a　
whole　lot　of　details　and　then　come　upon　something　real。'　He　
turned　on　the　hot　water　and　quickly　began　to　shave。　
It　was　the　morning　of　May　15；　yes；　that　Jake　Blount　had　come　
in。　He　had　noticed　him　immediately　and　watched。　The　man　
was　short；　with　heavy　shoulders　like　beams。　He　had　a　small；　
ragged　mustache；　and　beneath　this　his　lower　lip　looked　as　
though　it　had　been　stung　by　a　wasp。　There　were　many　things　
about　the　fellow　that　seemed　contrary。　His　head　was　very　
large　and　well…shaped；　but　his　neck　was　soft　and　slender　as　a　
boy's。　The　mustache　looked　false；　as　if　it　had　been　stuck　on　for　
a　costume　party　and　would　fall　off　if　he　talked　too　fast。　It　
made　him　seem　almost　middle…aged；　although　his　face　with　its　
high；　smooth　forehead　and　wide…open　eyes　was　young。　His　
hands　were　huge；　stained；　and　calloused；　and　he　was　dressed　
in　a　cheap　white…linen　suit。　There　was　something　very　funny　
about　the　man；　yet　at　the　same　time　another　feeling　would　not　
let　you　laugh。　
He　ordered　a　pint　of　liquor　and　drank　it　straight　in　half　an　
hour。　Then　he　sat　at　one　of　the　booths　and　ate　a　big　

chicken　dinner。　Later　he　read　a　book　and　drank　beer。　That　was　
the　beginning。　And　although　Biff　had　noticed　Blount　very　
carefully　he　would　never　have　guessed　about　the　crazy　things　
that　happened　later。　Never　had　he　seen　a　man　change　so　many　
times　in　twelve　days。　Never　had　he　seen　a　fellow　drink　so　
much；　stay　drunk　so　long。　
Biff　pushed　up　the　end　of　his　nose　with　his　thumb　and　shaved　


his　upper　lip。　He　was　finished　and　his　face　seemed　cooler。　
Alice　was　asleep　when　he　went　through　the　bedroom　on　the　
way　downstairs。　
The　suitcase　was　heavy。　He　carried　it　to　the　front　of　the　
restaurant；　behind　the　cash　register；　where　he　usually　stood　
each　evening。　Methodically　he　glanced　around　the　place。　A　
few　customers　had　left　and　the　room　was　not　so　crowded；　but　
the　set…up　was　the　same。　The　deaf…mute　still　drank　coffee　by　
himself　at　one　of　the　middle　tables。　The　drunk　had　not　stopped　
talking。　He　was　not　addressing　anyone　around　him　in　
particular；　nor　was　anyone　listening。　When　he　had　come　into　
the　place　that　evening　he　wore　those　blue　overalls　instead　of　
the　filthy　linen　suit　he　had　been　wearing　the　twelve　days。　His　
socks　were　gone　and　his　ankles　were　scratched　and　caked　with　
mud。　
Alertly　Biff　picked　up　fragments　of　his　monologue。　The　
fellow　seemed　to　be　talking　some　queer　kind　of　politics　again。　
Last　night　he　had　been　talking　about　places　he　had　been—　
about　Texas　and　Oklahoma　and　the　Carolinas。　Once　he　had　
got　on　the　subject　of　cat…houses；　and　afterward　his　jokes　got　so　
raw　he　had　to　be　hushed　up　with　beer。　But　most　of　the　time　
nobody　was　sure　just　what　he　was　saying。　Talk—talk—talk。　
The　words　came　out　of　his　throat　like　a　cataract。　And　the　thing　
was　that　the　accent　he　used　was　always　changing；　the　kinds　of　
words　he　used。　Sometimes　he　talked　like　a　linthead　and　
sometimes　nice　a　professor。　He　would　use　words　a　foot　long　
and　then　slip　up　on　his　grammar。　It　was　hard　to　tell　what　kind　
of　folks　he　had　or　what　part　of　the　country　he　was　from。　He　
was　always　changing。　Thoughtfully　Biff　fondled　the　tip　of　his　
nose。　There　was　no　connection。　Yet　connection　usually　went　
with　brains。　This　man　had　a　good　mind；　all　right；　but　he　went　
from　one　thing　to　another　without　any　reason　behind　it　at　all。　
He　was　like　a　man　thrown　off　his　track　by　something。14　

Biff　leaned　his　weight　on　the　counter　and　began　to　peruse　the　
evening　newspaper。　The　headlines　told　of　a　decision　by　the　
Board　of　Aldermen；　after　four　months'　deliberation；　that　the　
local　budget　could　not　afford　traffic　lights　at　certain　dangerous　
intersections　of　the　town。　The　left　column　reported　on　the　war　
in　the　Orient。　Biff　read　them　both　with　equal　attention。　As　his　


eyes　followed　the　print　the　rest　of　his　senses　were　on　the　alert　
to　the　various　commotions　that　went　on　around　him。　When　he　
had　finished　the　articles　he　still　stared　down　at　the　newspaper　
with　his　eyes　half…closed。　He　felt　nervous。　The　fellow　was　a　
problem；　and　before　morning　he　would　have　to　make　some　
sort　of　settlement　with　him。　Also；　he　felt　without　knowing　
why　that　something　of　importance　would　happen　tonight。　The　
fellow　could　not　keep　on　forever。　
Biff　sensed　that　someone　was　standing　in　the　entrance　and　he　
raised　his　eyes　quickly。　A　gangling；　towheaded　youngster；　a　
girl　of　about　twelve；　stood　looking　in　the　doorway。　She　was　
dressed　in　khaki　shorts；　a　blue　shirt；　and　tennis　shoes—so　that　
at　first　glance　she　was　like　a　very　young　boy。　Biff　pushed　
aside　the　paper　when　he　saw　her；　and　smiled　when　she　came　
up　to　him。　
'Hello；　Mick。　Been　to　the　Girl　Scouts？'　
'No；'　she　said。　'I　don't　belong　to　them。'　
From　the　corner　of　his　eye　he　noticed　that　the　drunk　slammed　
his　fist　down　on　a　table　and　turned　away　from　the　men　to　
whom　he　had　been　talking。　Biffs　voice　roughened　as　he　spoke　
to　the　youngster　before　him。　
'Your　folks　know　you're　out　after　midnight？'　
'It's　O。K。　There's　a　gang　of　kids　playing　out　late　on　our　block　
tonight。'　
He　had　never　seen　her　come　into　the　place　with　anyone　her　
own　age。　Several　years　ago　she　had　always　tagged　behind　her　
older　brother。　The　Kellys　were　a　good…sized　family　in　
numbers。　Later　she　would　come　in　pulling　a　couple　of　snotty　
babies　in　a　wagon。　But　if　she　wasn't　nursing　or　trying　to　keep　
up　with　the　bigger　ones；　she　was　by　herself。　Now　the　ki