【时间旅行者的妻子】43

My hand is in her purse, she’s flustered 1, she has dark eyes and long hair, large breasts, she’s still trying to lose the weight she gained having the kid. I catch her eye as I find her wallet, still apologizing, the wallet goes up my jacket sleeve, I look her up and down and smile, back away, turn, walk, look over my shoulder. She has picked up her boy and is staring back at me, slightly forlorn. I smile and walk, walk. Henry is following me as I take the stairs down to the Junior Museum. We rendezvous 2 by the men’s toilets.
　“That was weird,” says Henry. “Why’d she look at you like that?”
　“She’s lonely,” I euphemize. “Maybe her husband isn’t around very much.” We cram 3 ourselves into a stall and I open her wallet. Her name is Denise Radke. She lives in Villa 4 Park, Illinois. She is a member of the museum and an alumna 5 of Roosevelt University. She is carrying twenty-two dollars in cash, plus change. I show all this to Henry, silently, put the wallet back as it was, and hand it to him. We walk out of the stall, out of the men’s room, back toward the entrance to the museum. “Give this to the guard. Say you found it on the floor.”
　“Why?”
　“We don’t need it; I was just demonstrating.” Henry runs to the guard, an elderly black woman who smiles and gives Henry a sort of half-hug. He conies back slowly, and we walk ten feet apart, with me leading, down the long dark corridor which will someday house Decorative 6 Arts and lead to the as-yet-unthought-of Rice Wing, but which at the moment is full of posters. I’m looking for easy marks, and just ahead of me is a perfect illustration of the pickpocket’s dream. Short, portly, sun burnt, he looks as though he’s made a wrong turn from Wrigley Field in his baseball cap and polyester trousers with light blue short-sleeved button-down shirt. He’s lecturing his mousy girlfriend on Vincent van Gogh.
　“So he cuts his ear off and gives it to his girl—hey, how’d you like that for a present, huh? An ear! Huh. So they put him in the loony bin 7...”
　I have no qualms 8 about this one. 
 

我们走进欧洲馆，然后再逆时从十七世纪的荷兰回到十五世纪的西班牙。圣·乔治永远站着，下一刻他锐利的长矛即将扎入恶龙的要害，一旁身穿粉色和绿色长裙的公主站在画面的中景处，娴静地等待着他。我们俩都酷爱那条黄肚皮的龙，至今它的末日终究没有到来，总算让人松了口气。
    亨利和我此刻站在贝纳尔多·蒙托雷尔的画前，足足五分钟之久。然后他转过头看看我，此刻展厅里就剩下我俩了。
    “其实并非那么难，”我说，“注意，首先找一个看得出神的人，判断他皮夹的位置，大多数男人都放在屁股后面或者是西装外套的内袋里。女人的话，挑那些把包挎在身后的，如果在大街上，你完全可以一把抢走整个包，不过你得确信你能跑得比任何追你的人都要快。如果乘对方不留神时拿走钱包，麻烦会少得多。”
    “我看过一部电影，他们练习从系着小铃铛的衣服里偷钱包，如果下手时碰动了衣服，铃铛就会响。”
    “是呀，我记得那部电影。你回去就可以这样练习。现在，跟着我。”我把亨利从十五世纪带到十九世纪，在法国印象派画家的作品前停下来。芝加哥美术馆的印象派收藏远近闻名。对这些作品，我是可看可不看的，不过，和往常一样，这几间藏馆都挤满了伸长脖子的人，只为一睹乔治·修拉的《大宛岛上的星期天》或是莫奈的《稻草堆》。亨利太矮，被前面的人头挡住了视线，不过，他这样神经紧张，也没心思看画了。我快速扫视了四周，一位弯腰的妇女哄着她刚刚学步的小孩，那孩子尖叫着扭成一团。必须抓住时机，我朝亨利点一下头，向她的方位挪去。她的挎包搭在背上，只有一个简单的搭扣，皮带斜在肩头。此刻她站在图卢兹罗特尔克的《红磨坊》前，全神贯注地试图止住孩子的哭闹。我假装边欣赏作品边往前走，一不小心撞了她一个踉跄，我扶住她的胳膊，“啊呀，真对不起，请原谅，我没看见您，您没事吧？这里人太多了……”手却已经进了她的挎包，她还沉浸在慌乱中：深色的眼睛、长头发、大胸脯，一定还在想尽办法减掉做月子期间长出的赘肉。我的手指触到钱包时，眼睛却稳稳地盯着她，不停地道歉。皮夹子已经滑进我的袖口里了，我上下打量了她一番，便开始撤退，转身、行走，我扫了眼肩膀，余光中，她拎起儿子，愣愣地回望着我，竟有几分幽怨。我微笑着继续逃离。我下楼往儿童美术馆区走，亨利一声不响地跟在我后面。我们在男厕所里接上了头。
    “真奇怪，”亨利问，“她为什么那样看你？”
    “她很孤单，”我委婉地解释道，“或许她丈夫最近总出差吧。”我们挤进一处人多的地方，翻开她的皮夹。她叫丹丽丝·拉德克，住在伊利诺依州的维拉公园，她是美术馆的会员，还是罗斯福大学毕业的，今天出门，她带了二十二美金和一些零钱。我默不作声地把这些东西拿给亨利看，再把它们放好，递给他。我们离开人堆，从男厕所里走出来，回到美术馆的入口。“把这个交给门卫，就说是你在地上捡到的。”
    “为什么？”
    “我们不需要这个，我只是给你做示范。”亨利向门卫跑去，一个年长的黑人妇女微笑着，轻轻浅浅地拥抱了亨利。他慢慢走回来，我们俩依旧保持三米左右的距离，我领着他穿过长而幽暗的过道，这个过道今后将会展出装饰艺术，前面莱斯馆的建筑蓝图还没出来，此刻到处都贴满了各类通知和海报。我正搜寻最容易得手的对象，突然一个令小偷梦寐以求的目标猛地出现在眼前。矮胖、大腹便便、棒球帽、化纤面料的裤子、淡绿色领口带纽扣的短袖衬衫，他看上去仿佛就是从瑞格里球场误跑到这儿来的。现在，他正给他的女友滔滔不绝地讲解凡·高。
    “于是，他把自己的耳朵切下来，送给他的姑娘——嘿，你会喜欢吗？嚯！一只耳朵啊！于是人们只能把他送进疯人院……”
    偷这种家伙的钱我一点都不会良心不安。