【荆棘鸟】第九章 05

Father Ralph did as he was told without question; it was a better idea than any he had to offer. Dominic O’Rourke of Dibban-Dibban had ridden in with two of his sons; he was a neighbor and not far away as distances went. When Father Ralph explained what had to be done they set about it quickly, scouring 1 the sheds for empty drums, tipping chaff 2 and oats out of drums empty of petrol but in use for storage, searching for lids, soldering 3 the lids to the drums if they were rust-free and looked likely to withstand the battering 4 they would get in the water. The rain was still falling, falling. It wouldn’t stop for another two days. 
    “Dominic, I hate to ask it of you, but when these people come in they’re going to be half dead. We’ll have to hold the funerals tomorrow, and even if the Gilly undertaker could make the coffins 5 in time, we’d never get them out through the mud. Can any of you have a go at making a couple of coffins? I only need one man to swim the creek 6 with me.” The O’Rourke sons nodded; they didn’t want to see what the fire had done to Paddy or the boar to Stuart. “We’ll do it, Dad,” said Liam. Dragging the drums behind their horses, Father Ralph and Dominic O’Rourke rode down to the creek and swam it. 
    “There’s one thing, Father!” shouted Dominic. “We don’t have to dig graves in this bloody 7 mud! I used to think old Mary was putting on the dog a bit too much when she put a marble vault 8 in her backyard for Michael, but right at this minute if she was here, I’d kiss her!”
     “Too right!” yelled Father Ralph. They lashed 9 the drums under the sheet of iron, six on either side, tied the canvas shroud 10 down firmly, and swam the exhausted 11 draft horses across on the rope which would finally tow the raft. Dominic and Tom sat astride the great beasts, and at the top of the Drogheda-side bank paused, looking back, while those still marooned 12 hooked up the makeshift barge 13, pushed it to the bank and shoved it in. The draft horses began walking, Tom and Dominic cooeeing shrilly 14 as the raft began to float. It bobbed and wallowed badly, but it stayed afloat long enough to be hauled out safely; rather than waste time dismantling 15 the pontoons, the two impromptu 16 postilions urged their mounts up the track toward the big house, the sheet of iron sliding along on its drums better than it had without them. There was a ramp 17 up to great doors at the baling end of the shearing 18 shed, so they put the raft and its burden in the huge empty building amid the reeks 19 of tar 20, sweat, lanolin and dung. Muffled 21 in oilskins, Minnie and Cat had come down from the big house to take first vigil, and knelt one on either side of the iron bier, rosary beads 22 clicking, voices rising and falling in cadences 23 too well known to need the effort of memory. 
    The house was filling up. Duncan Gordon had arrived from Each- Uisge, Gareth Davies from Narrengang, Horry Hopeton from Beel- Beel, Eden Carmichael from Barcoola. Old Angus MacQueen had flagged down one of the ambling 24 local goods trains and ridden with the engine driver to Gilly, where he borrowed a horse from Harry 25 Gough and rode out with him. He had covered over two hundred miles of mud, one way or another. 
    “I’m wiped out, Father,” Horry said to the priest later as the seven of them sat in the small dining room eating steak-and-kidney pie. 
    “The fire went through me from one end to the other and left hardly a sheep alive or a tree green. Lucky the last few years have been good is all I can say. I can afford to restock, and if this rain keeps up the grass will come back real quick. But heaven help us from another disaster during the next ten years, Father, because I won’t have anything put aside to meet it.” 
    “Well, you’re smaller than me, Horry,” Gareth Davies said, cutting into Mrs. Smith’s meltingly light flaky pastry 26 with evident enjoyment 27. Nothing in the line of disasters could depress a black-soil plainsman’s appetite for long; he needed his food to meet them. 
    “I reckon I lost about half of my acreage, and maybe two-thirds of my sheep, worse luck. Father, we need your prayers.” 
    “Aye,” said old Angus. 
    “I wasna sae hard hit as wee Horry and Garry, Father, but bad enough for a’ that. I lost sixty thoosand of ma acres, and half ma wee sheep. ’Tis times like this, Father, make me wish I hadna left Skye as a young laddie.” Father Ralph smiled.       “It’s a passing wish, Angus, you know that. You left Skye for the same reason I left Clunamara. It was too small for you.” 
    “Aye, nae doot. The heather doesna make sic a bonnie blaze as the gums, eh, Father?” It would be a strange funeral, thought Father Ralph as he looked around; the only women would be Drogheda women, for all the visiting mourners were men. He had taken a huge dose of laudanum to Fee after Mrs. Smith had stripped her, dried her and put her into the big bed she had shared with Paddy, and when she refused to drink it, weeping hysterically 28, he had held her nose and tipped it ruthlessly down her throat. Funny, he hadn’t thought of Fee breaking down. It had worked quickly, for she hadn’t eaten in twenty-four hours. Knowing she was sound asleep, he rested easier. 
    Meggie he kept tabs on; she was out in the cookhouse at the moment helping 29 Mrs. Smith prepare food. The boys were all in bed, so exhausted they could hardly manage to peel off their wet things before collapsing 30. When Minnie and Cat concluded their stint 31 of the vigil custom demanded because the bodies lay in a deserted 32, unblessed place, Gareth Davies and his son Enoch were taking over; the others allotted 33 hour-long spans among themselves as they talked and ate. None of the young men had joined their elders in the dining room. They were all in the cookhouse ostensibly helping Mrs. Smith, but in reality so they could look at Meggie. When he realized this fact Father Ralph was both annoyed and relieved. 
    Well, it was out of their ranks she must choose her husband, as she inevitably 34 would. Enoch Davies was twenty-nine, a “black Welshman,” which meant he was black-haired and very dark-eyed, a handsome man; Liam O’Rourke was twenty-six, sandy-haired and blue-eyed, like his twenty-five-year-old brother Rory; Connor Carmichael was the spit of his sister, older at thirty-two, and very good-looking indeed, if a little arrogant 35; the pick of the bunch in Father Ralph’s estimation was old Angus’s grandson Alastair, the closest to Meggie in age at twenty-four and a sweet young man, with his grandfather’s beautiful blue Scots eyes and hair already gray, a family trait. Let her fall in love with one of them, marry him, have the children she wanted so badly. Oh, God, my God, if You will do that for me, I’ll gladly bear the pain of loving her, gladly…. 
    No flowers smothered 36 these coffins, and the vases all around the chapel 37 were empty. What blossoms had survived the terrible heat of the fiery 38 air two nights ago had succumbed 39 to the rain, and laid themselves down against the mud like ruined butterflies. Not even a stalk of bottle brush, or an early rose. And everyone was tired, so tired. Those who had ridden the long miles in the mud to show their liking 40 for Paddy were tired, those who had brought the bodies in were tired, those who had slaved to cook and clean were tired, Father Ralph was so tired he felt as if he moved in a dream, eyes sliding away from Fee’s pinched, hopeless face, Meggie’s expression of mingled 41 sorrow and anger, the collective grief of that collective cluster Bob, Jack 42 and Hughie…. He gave no eulogy 43; Martin King spoke 44 briefly 45 and movingly on behalf of those assembled, and the priest went on into the Requiem 46 immediately. He had as a matter of course brought his chalice 47, his sacraments and a stole, for no priest stirred without them when he went offering comfort or aid, but he had no vestments with him, and the house possessed 48 none. But old Angus had called in at the presbytery in Gilly on his way, and carried the black mourning garb 49 of a Requiem Mass wrapped in an oilskin across his saddle. So he stood properly attired 50 with the rain hissing 51 against the windows, drumming on the iron roof two stories up. Then out into it, the grieving rain, across the lawn all browned and scorched 52 by heat, to the little white-railinged cemetery 53. This time there were pallbearers willing to shoulder the plain rectangular boxes, slipping and sliding in the mud, trying to see where they were going through the rain beating in their eyes. And the little bells on the Chinese cook’s grave tinkled 54 drably: Hee Sing, Hee Sing, Hee Sing. It got itself over and done with. 
    The mourners departed on their horses, backs hunched 55 inside their oilskins, some of them staring miserably 56 at the prospect 57 of ruin, others thanking God they had escaped death  and the fire. And Father Ralph got his few things together, knowing he must go before he couldn’t go. He went to see Fee, where she sat at the escritoire staring mutely down at her hands. 
    “Fee, will you be all right?” he asked, sitting where he could see her. She turned toward him, so still and quenched 58 within her soul that he was afraid, and closed his eyes. 
    “Yes, Father, I’ll be all right. I have the books to keep, and five sons left—six if you count Frank, only I don’t suppose we can count Frank, can we? Thank you for that, more than I can ever say. It’s such a comfort to me knowing your people are watching out for him, making his life a little easier. Oh, if I could see him, just once!” She was like a lighthouse, he thought; flashes of grief every time her mind came round to that pitch of emotion which was too great to be contained. A huge flare 59, and then a long period of nothing. 
    “Fee, I want you to think about something.” 
    “Yes, what?” she was dark again. 
    “Are you listening to me?” he asked sharply, worried and suddenly more frightened than before. For a long moment he thought she had retreated so far into herself even the harshness of his voice hadn’t penetrated 60, but up blazed the beacon 61 again, and her lips parted. 
    “My poor Paddy! My poor Stuart! My poor Frank!” she mourned, then got herself under that iron control once more, as if she was determined 62 to elongate 63 her periods of darkness until the light shone no more in her lifetime. Her eyes roamed the room without seeming to recognize it. 
    “Yes, Father, I’m listening,” she said. 
    “Fee, what about your daughter? Do you ever remember that you have a daughter?” The grey eyes lifted to his face, dwelled on it almost pityingly. “Does any woman? What’s a daughter? Just a reminder 64 of the pain, a younger version of oneself who will do all the things one has done, cry the same tears. No, Father. I try to forget I have a daughter—if I do think of her, it is as one of my sons. It’s her sons a mother remembers.” 
    “Do you cry tears, Fee? I’ve only seen them once.” 
    “You’ll never see them again, for I’ve finished with tears forever.” Her whole body quivered. 
    “Do you know something, Father? Two days ago I discovered how much I love Paddy, but it was like all of my life—too late. Too late for him, too late for me. If you knew how I wanted the chance to take him in my arms, tell him I loved him! Oh, God, I hope no other human being ever has to feel my pain!” He turned away from that suddenly ravaged 65 face, to give it time to don its calm, and himself time to cope with understanding the enigma 66 who was Fee. He said, 
    “No one else can ever feel your pain.” One corner of her mouth lifted in a stern smile. 
    “Yes. That’s a comfort, isn’t it? It may not be enviable, but my pain is mine.”       “Will you promise me something, Fee?”
    “If you like.” 
    “Look after Meggie, don’t forget her. Make her go to the local dances, let her meet a few young men, encourage her to think of marriage and a home of her own. I saw all the young men eyeing her today. Give her the opportunity to meet them again under happier circumstances than these.” 
 

拉尔夫神父二话没说，就按他的嘱咐去办了；这比他能想出的任何一个主意都要高明。比班-比班的多米尼克·奥罗克和他的两个儿子骑马来了。他是一位邻人，住的不远，用不着赶许多路。当拉尔夫神父向他们讲明应当怎样做之后，他们便迅速动起手来，在羊圈里到处找空油桶。雨依然在下着，不停地下着。不再下两天是不会住的。
　　"多米尼克，我极不愿意求你们办这件事，不过，这些人回来之后，恐怕也都快半死了。明天我们必须举行葬礼。虽然基里的丧仪承办人能及时地把棺材做好，可是我们根本无法把它们从这片烂泥塘里运出来。你们哪位能费心做一具棺木？我只需要一个人跟我一起游过小河。"
　　奥罗克的两个儿子点了点头。他们不愿意看到让大火糟踏过的帕迪或公野猪糟踏过的斯图尔特。
　　"我们干吧，爹，"利亚姆说道。
　　拉尔夫神父和多米尼克、奥罗克骑着马，把汽油桶拖在后面来到了小河旁，游了过去。
　　"有一件事，神父！"多米尼克喊道。"咱们用不着在这该死的泥地上挖个大坟坑了！老玛丽为迈克尔的后院修大理石墓穴的时候，我常常想，为这个窝囊废她也太有点儿破费了。可是，假如她眼下就在这儿的话，我会吻她的！"
　　"对极啦！"拉尔夫神父喊道。
　　他们把汽油桶绑在了铁皮的下面，一边绑六个，将帆布蒙在上面，捆紧，用绳子把它们套在游水而过的、筋疲力竭的牵引马岙上。那绳子最终会拉着这筏子走的。多米尼克和汤姆跨着那两匹大牲口，在德罗海达一侧岸边和制高点上停了停，回头望着。这时，那些人仍然孤立无援地钩住那只临时拼凑而成的筏子，往岸边推着，猛地推进了河中。牵引马开始举步了。当筏子漂起来的时候，汤姆和多米尼克尖声吆喝着马。筏子跳动颠簸得十分厉害，但是它浮动着，有足够的时间把它平平安安地拉过来。与其把这个临时凑成的筏子拆散，倒不如不拆散，索兴让两位驭手赶着他们的马顺着通向大宅的路走下去。铁皮在汽油桶上颠动比没有汽没桶垫着要好得多。
　　在通往堆满了羊毛包的剪毛棚一侧的大门前有一道大坡，于是，他们便把筏子和它所载运的东西放进了一间柏油味、汗味、羊毛脂味和粪便的臭气味冲鼻的大屋子里。明妮和凯特裹着油布雨衣从大宅到这边来守第一班灵。她俩分别跪在铁棺材架两侧，念珠串在咔咔地响着，念经的声调抑扬顿挫。她们很清楚，得不遗余力地追念死者。
　　邸宅里面挤满了人。邓肯·戈登从伊奇-乌伊斯奇来了，加里兹·戴维斯从奈仁甘来了，霍里·霍怕顿从比班-比班来了，伊登·卡迈克尔从巴因拉来了。老安格斯，麦克奎恩搭了一辆当地的货车，和汽车司机挤在一起到了基坦克；在那里，他向哈里·高夫借了一匹马，并且和他一起骑马赶来了。一条路走不适，他们便再换一条路，足足在烂泥浆地走了200英里。
　　"我饥肠响如鼓了，神父。"七个人在小餐厅里坐定，吃起了肉片腰子馅饼之后，哈里教士说道。"大火在我那里从这头烧到了那头，几乎没剩下一只活着的羊和绿色的树了。我只好说，前几年年景不错，真是幸运啊。再重新进货我还付得起钱。要是雨能继续下的话，草地会很快恢复起来的。不过，神父，但愿老天爷保佑而我们在下一个十年中避免另一次天灾吧，因为不会再有积蓄对付另一次天灾了。"
　　"喂，哈里，你的损失比我小。"加里兹·戴维斯说道，他显然带着大享其乐的神态切着史密斯太太做的那融成又轻又薄的一片的馅饼；一连串的灾难也决不会长时间地使黑壤平原的人胃口不佳的。戴维斯需要用食物来满足他的胃口。"我估计，我的土地大约一半受到了损失，也许还有三分之二的绵羊。真是背运透顶，神父，我们需要你的诉祷。"
　　"唉，"老安格斯道。"神父，我的损失没有小哈里和加里①那么大，可是也够糟心的了。我的土地损失了六公顷，我的小绵羊损失了一半。这年头儿就是这样，神父，这真使我希望自己象个年轻小姐那样，不离开悉尼就好了。"①加里兹的爱称。--译注
　　拉尔夫神父微微一笑。"这是个过时的愿望啦，安格斯，这你自己很明白。你离开悉尼的理由和我离开克伦纳玛拉的理由是一样的。那地方对你来说太小了。"
　　"唉，别提啦。石南是不会象桉树那样引起这样一场大火的，对吗，神父？"
　　这将是一个奇特的葬礼，拉尔夫神父一边四下看看，一边想道；仅有的女宾就是德罗海达的女人们，因为全部外来的送葬者都是男人。在史密斯太太给菲脱了衣服，擦干了身子，把她安顿到她和帕迪合用的那张大床上之后，拉尔夫给她服了一副剂量很大的鸦片酊。菲拒绝喝那剂药，歇斯底里地哭泣着；他捏着她的鼻子，把药无情地倒进了她的嗓子眼儿。有意思的是，他根本就没想到她的精神已经塌下来了。药很快就发生了作用，因为她已经有14个小时粒米未沾牙了。当发现她已经沉沉睡去时，拉尔夫也安心地休息了。他一直在注意着梅吉，眼下，她正在厨房里帮助史密斯太太做饭。男孩子们全都上了床，他们疲惫已极，连潮湿的衣物都没来得及脱便垮下来了。明妮和凯特已经完成了分配给她们的、风俗习惯所要求的守灵差使。由于尸体是存放在一个无人居住的、倒霉的地方，加里兹·戴维斯和他的儿子伊诺克接了班；其他的人一边吃饭、说话，一连自行派了班，每班一小时。
　　年长的人在餐厅吃饭的时候，年轻人都不在场。他们都在厨房里做出一副给史密斯太太帮忙的样子，其实全都在盯着梅吉。拉尔夫神父发现了这一情形，他觉得既苦恼又宽慰。哦，她肯定要在他们中间挑选丈夫的，她不可避免地要这样做。伊诺克·戴维斯29岁，是个"黑色的威尔士人"，这就是说，他长着一头黑发，眼睛特别黑，是个漂亮的小伙子；利亚姆·多米尼克26岁，头发灰中带红，蓝眼睛，和他那25岁的弟弟罗利十分相象；康纳·卡麦克尔和他妹妹长得一模一样，他年龄大一些，32岁了，虽然有点傲慢，但相貌着实英俊。要是依着拉尔夫神父的意思在这群人里挑选的话，他中意于老安格斯的孙子阿拉斯泰尔；他和梅吉的年龄最接近，24岁，是个多情的小伙子，长着和他祖父一样的苏格兰人的眼睛，头发已经呈灰白色了，这是他的家族的特征。让她和他们之中的一个相爱，结婚，得到她朝思暮想的孩子吧，哦，上帝啊，我的上帝，倘使你能为我办到这一点的话，我将很高兴地承受爱她的痛苦，十分高兴……
　　棺材上没有覆盖鲜花，小教堂四周的花瓶也都是空的。那可怕的火的热浪所过之处--这火是两天前刚刚被大雨熄灭的--还有什么花能幸存下来呢？它们全都象被蹂躏过的蝴蝶一样，纷纷落在烂泥之中。甚至连一株问荆或一枝早开的玫瑰都没有。而且大家全都累了，疲乏之极。那些为了表示对帕迪的热爱而在泥泞的道路上远途赶来的人累了，这些运回尸体的人累了，那些拼命地做饭、打扫卫生的人累了；拉尔夫神父已经累得好象觉得是在梦游似的：菲那萎顿、苍白的脸上，两眼黯然失神；梅吉还着一副悲愤交集的脸色；共同聚在一起的鲍勃、杰克和休克陷入了共同的哀伤……
　　他没有讲什么颂辞。马丁·金代表全体到会的人简短他讲了几句，随后，教士马上就做了追思弥撒。他理所当然地带着他的圣餐杯、圣餐和一条圣带，因为当一个教士去对人施以安慰或帮助的时候，不带这些东西他就无法活动。但是，他没有带法衣，而这幢房子里也没有这东西。可是老安格斯在路上的时候，曾到基里的神父宅邸绕过一个弯子，在油布雨衣裹着的马辖里装了一件参加追思弥撒用的黑丧服。于是，他便在雨水噼噼啪啪地打着窗户，咚咚地敲着二层楼上的铁皮房顶的噪声中，合乎体统地装束了起来。
　　随后，他就走了出去，走到了令人凄然的雨中，穿过完全被热浪烤成了棕色的、枯萎的草坪，向围着白棚栏的墓地走去。这一次，抬棺者们都愿意把那朴素的长方形箱子扛在肩头了。他们在泥地上一步一滑地走着，雨水扑打着他们的眼睛，他们竭力想看清前进的方向。中国厨子坟上的那些小铃铛单调乏味地响着。
　　葬礼进行完毕，一切就绪。送葬者们骑上他们的马启程了。他们那沿布下的脊背都驼着，有些人不胜凄沧地望着那一片被毁灭的景象。而另一些人则为他们能幸免一死，逃脱了火灾而在谢天谢地。拉尔夫神父把他那几样东西收拾了起来，他明白，趁他还能走的时候，他必须走。
　　他走去看望菲，她坐在写字台旁，低头呆呆地盯着自己的双手。
　　"菲，你会平安无事的吧？"他坐在能够看到地的方向，问道。
　　她转向了他，她的内心显得如此平静、冷漠，使他感到害怕；他闭上了眼睛。
　　"是的，神父，我会平安无事的。我还有那些帐薄，还有五个儿子--如果算弗兰克的话，是六个。不过，我想我们不能把弗兰克算在内了，对吗？为那件事，我谢谢你，我也就没有什么再可说的了。得知你的人在照看着他，使他稍微安心地生活下去，真是一个安慰。哦，要是我能看看他就好了，哪怕就一次！"
　　她就象是一座灯塔，他叹道，每一次那强烈的感情--这感情多得无法容纳一在她的心中复苏的时候。都要闪出哀痛之光。这是一道眩目的闪光，随后便是长时间的寂灭。
　　"菲，我希望你能考虑一些事情。"
　　"哦，是什么？"她的问光又熄灭了。
　　"你在听我说话吗？"他厉声问道，心里感到担忧，感到一种比刚才更强烈的、突如其来的恐惧。
　　有好一阵工夫，他以为她深深地退入了自己的内心之中，就连他那严厉的声音也无法穿透。可是，那灯塔又一次闪出了耀眼的光，她双唇翕动着。"我那可怜的帕迪！我那可怜的斯图尔特！我那可怜的弗兰克！"她凄凄戚戚地说着，然后又恢复了那钢铁般的自我控制，仿佛她已经下定决心使那熄灭的周期延续下去，在她的有生之年不再次闪光了。
　　她的眼睛茫然地在房间里扫动着。"是的，神父，我正在听着，"她说道。
　　"菲，你的女儿怎么办呢？你想到你还有一个女儿吗？"
　　那双灰色的眼睛抬了起来，望着他的脸，几乎带着一种怜悯的表情盯着他。"任何一个女人都会想到这一点吗？什么是一个女儿？她只能使你回想起病苦。她只是一个人年轻时的变体，正丝毫不差地蹈另一个人的覆辙，同样会泪流满面地哭泣的。不，神父。我竭力忘掉我有一个女儿--倘若我真的想到她，也是把她当作我的一个儿子。作母亲的只记得她的儿子。"
　　"你会泪流满面地哭泣吗，菲？我只见你流过一次眼泪。"
　　"你再也不会见到了，因为我永远不会再有泪水了。"她的整个身子都在颤栗着。神父，你起了解一些事情吗？两天以前，我才发现我是多么的爱帕迪，就好象我终生都在爱着他似的--太晚了。时他来说太晚了，对我来说也太晚了。要是你能明白我多么希望能有一次机会，把他搂在我的双臂之中，对他说我爱他，该有多好啊！哦，上帝，我希望没有人遭受过我这样的痛苦！"
　　他移开了眼光，不去看那突然之间神态大变的脸庞，难她时间以恢复平静，也给自己时间以理解这位谜一般的人。这人就是菲。
　　他说："其他任何人都不曾体会过你的痛苦。"
　　她的一个嘴角抬了抬，露出了一丝严峻的微笑，"是的，这是一个种安慰，对吗？这也许没有什么可值得羡慕的，但我的痛苦是我的。"
　　"菲，你能答应我一些事情吗？"
　　"如果你愿意的话。"
　　"你要照顾梅吉，不能忘记她。让她去参加地方上的舞会，认识几个小伙子，鼓励她多想想自己的婚姻大事和建立一个自己的家庭。今天，我看见所有的小伙子都盯着她。给她机会，让她在比这更欢快的气氛中和他们相见。"
　　"不管你怎么说，都依你，神父。"