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当前位置:重庆时时彩五星定胆 > 美国小说 > 老人与海 > 第1章 第一部分
第2节 第二节 【
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本文地址:http://www.yeidj.com.cn/book/story.php?id=939
文章摘要:第二节 ,应予光复旧物筹谋,哈里波特杜撰高人。

在用纤维结实的"海鸟粪"展平了叠盖而成的褐色墙壁上,重庆时时彩五星定胆:有一幅彩色的耶稣圣心图①和另一幅科布莱圣母图。这是他②妻子的遗物。墙上一度挂着幅他妻子的着色照,但他把它取下了,因为看了觉得自己太孤单了,它如今在屋角搁板上,在他的一件干净衬衫下面。

“有什么吃的东西?”

“有锅鱼煮黄米饭。要吃点吗?”

“不。我回家去吃。要我给你生火吗?”

“不用。过一会儿我自己来生。也许就吃冷饭算了。”

“我把鱼网拿去好吗?”

“当然好。”

实在并没有鱼网,孩子还记得他们是什么时候把它卖掉的。然而他们每天要扯一套这种谎话。也没有什么鱼煮黄米饭,这一点孩子也知道。

“八十五是个吉利的数目,”老人说。“你可想看到我逮住一条去掉了下脚有一千多磅重的鱼?”

“我拿鱼网捞沙丁鱼去。你坐在门口晒晒太阳可好?”

“好吧。我有张昨天的报纸,我来看看棒球消息。”孩子不知道昨天的报纸是不是也是乌有的。但是老人把它从床下取出来了。

①法国修女玛格丽特·玛丽·阿拉科克(—)于世纪倡议崇拜耶稣基督的圣心,在信奉天主教的国家中传播甚广。

②科布莱为古巴东南部一小镇,镇南小山上有科布莱圣母祠,每年月日为朝圣日。

“佩里科在杂货铺里给我的,"他解释说。

“我弄到了沙丁鱼就回来。我要把你的鱼跟我的一起用冰镇着,明儿早上就可以分着用了。等我回来了,你告诉我棒球消息。”

“扬基队①不会输。”

“可是我怕克利夫兰印第安人队会赢。”

“我担心底特律老虎队,也担心克利夫兰印第安人队。”

“当心点,要不然连辛辛那提红队和芝加哥白短袜队,你都要担心啦。”

“你好好儿看报,等我回来了给我讲讲。”

“你看我们该去买张末尾是八五的彩票吗?明儿是第八十五天。”

“这样做行啊,”孩子说。"不过你上次创纪录的是八十七天,这怎么说?”

“这种事儿不会再发生。你看能弄到一张末尾是八五的吗?”

“我可以去订一张。”

“订一张。这要两块半。我们向谁去借这笔钱呢?”

“这个容易。我总能借到两块半的。”

①这支纽约市的棒球队是美国职业棒球界的强队。

②乔·迪马吉奥(—)于年起进扬基队,以善于击球得分著称。年棒球季后告别球坛。


“我看没准儿我也借得到。不过我不想借钱。第一步是借钱。下一步就要讨饭啰。”

“穿得暖和点,老大爷,”孩子说。"别忘了,我们这是在九月里。"

“正是大鱼露面的月份,”老人说。“在五月里,人人都能当个好渔夫的。”

“我现在去捞沙丁鱼,”孩子说。

等孩子回来的时候,老人在椅子上熟睡着,太阳已经下去了。孩子从床上捡起一条旧军毯,铺在椅背上,盖住了老人的双肩。这两个肩膀挺怪,人非常老迈了,肩膀却依然很强健,脖子也依然很壮实,而且当老人睡着了,脑袋向前耷拉着的时候,皱纹也不大明显了。他的衬衫上不知打了多少次补丁,弄得象他那张帆一样,这些补丁被阳光晒得褪成了许多深浅不同的颜色。老人的头非常苍老,眼睛闭上了,脸上就一点生气也没有。报纸摊在他膝盖上,在晚风中,靠他一条胳臂压着才没被吹走。他光着脚。

孩子撇下老人走了,等他回来时,老人还是熟睡着。

“醒来吧,老大爷,"孩子说,一手搭上老人的膝盖。老人张开眼睛,他的神志一时仿佛正在从老远的地方回来。随后他微笑了。

“你拿来了什么?"他问。

“晚饭,”孩子说。"我们就来吃吧。”

“我肚子不大饿。”

“得了,吃吧。你不能只打鱼,不吃饭。”

“我这样干过,"老人说着,站起身来,拿起报纸,把它折好。跟着他动手折叠毯子。

“把毯子披在身上吧,”孩子说。"只要我活着,你就决不会不吃饭就去打鱼。”

“这么说,祝你长寿,多保重自己吧,”老人说。“我们吃什么?”

“黑豆饭、油炸香蕉,还有些纯菜。"①

孩子是把这些饭菜放在双层饭匣里从露台饭店拿来的。他口袋里有两副刀叉和汤匙,每一副都用纸餐巾包着。

“这是谁给你的。”

“马丁。那老板。”

“我得去谢谢他。”

“我已经谢过啦,”孩子说。"你用不着去谢他了。”

“我要给他一块大鱼肚子上的肉,”老人说。“他这样帮助我们不止一次了?”

“我想是这样吧。”

“这样的话,我该在鱼肚子肉以外,再送他一些东西。他对我们真关心。”

“他还送了两瓶啤酒。”

“我喜欢罐装的啤酒。”

“我知道。不过这是瓶装的,阿图埃牌啤酒,我还得把瓶子送回去。”

“你真周到,”老人说。“我们就吃好吗?”

“我已经问过你啦,"孩子温和地对他说。“不等你准备好, 我是不愿打开饭匣子的。”

①这些是加勒比海地区老百姓的主食。


“我准备好啦,”老人说。“我只消洗洗手脸就行。”你上哪儿去洗呢?孩子想。村里的水龙头在大路上第二条横路的转角上。我该把水带到这儿让他用的,孩子想,还带块肥皂和一条干净毛巾来。我为什么这样粗心大意?我该再弄件衬衫和一件茄克衫来让他过冬,还要一双什么鞋子,并且再给他弄条毯子来。

On the brown walls of the flattened, overlapping leaves of the sturdy fibered guano there was a picture in color of the

Sacred Heart of Jesus and another of the Virgin of Cobre. These were relics of his wife. Once there had been a tinted

photograph of his wife on the wall but he had taken it down because it made him too lonely to see it and it was on the

shelf in the corner under his clean shirt.

"What do you have to eat?” the boy asked.

"A pot of yellow rice with fish. Do you want some?”

"No. I will eat at home. Do you want me to make the fire?”

"No. I will make it later on. Or I may eat the rice cold.”

"May I take the cast net?”

"Of course.”

There was no cast net and the boy remembered when they had sold it. But they went through this fiction every day.

There was no pot of yellow rice and fish and the boy knew this too.

"Eighty-five is a lucky number,” the old man said. "How would you like to see me bring one in that dressed out over a thousand pounds?”

"I’ll get the cast net and go for sardines. Will you sit in the sun in the doorway?”

"Yes. I have yesterday’s paper and I will read the baseball.” The boy did not know whether yesterday’s paper was a fiction too. But the old man brought it out from under the bed.

"Perico gave it to me at the bodega,” he explained. "I’ll be back when I have the sardines. I’ll keep yours and mine together on ice and we can share them in the morning. When I come back you can tell me about the baseball.”

"The Yankees cannot lose.”

"But I fear the Indians of Cleveland.”

"Have faith in the Yankees my son. Think of the great DiMaggio.”

"I fear both the Tigers of Detroit and the Indians of Cleveland.”

"Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago.”

"You study it and tell me when I come back.”

"Do you think we should buy a terminal of the lottery with an eighty-five? Tomorrow is the eighty-fifth day.”

"We can do that,” the boy said. "But what about the eighty-seven of your great record?”

"It could not happen twice. Do you think you can find an eighty-five?”

"I can order one. "

"One sheet. That’s two dollars and a half. Who can we borrow that from?”

"That’s easy. I can always borrow two dollars and a half.”

"I think perhaps I can too. But I try not to borrow. First you borrow. Then you beg.”

"Keep warm old man,” the boy said. "Remember we are in September.”

"The month when the great fish come,” the old man said. "Anyone can be a fisherman in May.”

"I go now for the sardines,” the boy said.

When the boy came back the old man was asleep in the chair and the sun was down. The boy took the old army blanket off the bed and spread it over the back of the chair and over the old man’s shoulders. They were strange shoulders, still powerful although very old, and the neck was still strong too and the creases did not show so much when the old man was asleep and his head fallen forward. His shirt had been patched so many times that it was like the sail and the patches were faded to many different shades by the sun. The old man’s head was very old though and with his eyes closed there was no life in his face. The newspaper lay across his knees and the weight of his arm held it there in the evening breeze. He was barefooted.

The boy left him there and when he came back the old man was still asleep.

"Wake up old man,” the boy said and put his hand on one of the old man’s knees.

The old man opened his eyes and for a moment he was coming back from a long way away. Then he smiled.

"What have you got?” he asked.

"Supper,” said the boy. "We’re going to have supper.”

"I’m not very hungry.”

"Come on and eat. You can’t fish and not eat.”

"I have,” the old man said getting up and taking the newspaper and folding it. Then he started to fold the blanket.

"Keep the blanket around you,” the boy said. "You’ll not fish without eating while I’m alive.”

"Then live a long time and take care of yourself,” the old man said. "What are we eating?”

"Black beans and rice, fried bananas, and some stew.”

The boy had brought them in a two-decker metal container from the Terrace. The two sets of knives and forks and spoons were in his pocket with a paper napkin wrapped around each set.

"Who gave this to you?”

"Martin. The owner.”

"I must thank him.”

"I thanked him already,” the boy said. "You don’t need to thank him.”

"I’ll give him the belly meat of a big fish,” the old man said. "Has he done this for us more than once?”

"I think so.”

"I must give him something more than the belly meat then. He is very thoughtful for us.”

"He sent two beers.”

"I like the beer in cans best.”

"I know. But this is in bottles, Hatuey beer, and I take back the bottles.”

"That’s very kind of you,” the old man said. "Should we eat?”

"I’ve been asking you to,” the boy told him gently. "I have not wished to open the container until you were ready.”

"I’m ready now,” the old man said. "I only needed time to wash.”

Where did you wash? the boy thought. The village water supply was two streets down the road. I must have water here for him, the boy thought, and soap and a good towel. Why am I so thoughtless? I must get him another shirt and a jacket for the winter and some sort of shoes and another blanket.



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