諾貝爾文學經典:《寵兒》第1章Part 8

Paul D looked at the girl and then at Sethe who smiled saying, "Here she is my Denver. This isPaul D, honey, from Sweet Home.""Good morning, Mr. D.""Garner, baby. Paul D Garner.""Yes sir.""Glad to get a look at you. Last time I saw your mama, you were pushing out the front of herdress.""Still is," Sethe smiled, "provided she can get in it."
Denver stood on the bottom step and was suddenly hot and shy. It had been a long time sinceanybody (good-willed whitewoman, preacher, speaker or newspaperman) sat at their table, theirsympathetic voices called liar by the revulsion in their eyes. For twelve years, long beforeGrandma Baby died, there had been visitors of any sort and certainly no friends.

ainlynohazelnutman(no) with too long hair and no notebook, no charcoal, nooranges, no questions. Someone her mother wanted to talk to and would even consider talking towhile barefoot. Looking, in fact acting, like a girl instead of the quiet, queenly woman Denver hadknown all her life. The one who never looked away, who when a man got stomped to death by amare right in front of Sawyer's restaurant did not look away; and when a sow began eating her ownlitter did not look away then either. And when the baby's spirit picked up Here Boy and slammedhim into the wall hard enough to break two of his legs and dislocate his eye, so hard he went intoconvulsions and chewed up his tongue, still her mother had not looked away. She had taken ahammer, knocked the dog unconscious, wiped away the blood and saliva, pushed his eye back inhis head and set his leg bones. He recovered, mute and off-balance, more because of hisuntrustworthy eye than his bent legs, and winter, summer, drizzle or dry, nothing could persuadehim to enter the house again.
Now here was this woman with the presence of mind to repair a dog gone savage with painrocking her crossed ankles and looking away from her own daughter's body. As though the size ofit was more than vision could bear. And neither she nor he had on shoes. Hot, shy, now Denverwas lonely. All that leaving: first her brothers, then her grandmother — serious losses since therewere no children willing to circle her in a game or hang by their knees from her porch railing.
None of that had mattered as long as her mother did not look away as she was doing now, makingDenver long, downright long, for a sign of spite from the baby ghost.

保羅·D看看女孩，又看看塞絲。塞絲笑吟吟地說："瞧，這就是我的丹芙。這是-甜蜜之家-的保羅·D，親愛的。" "早安，D先生。" "加納，寶貝兒。保羅·D.加納。" "是，先生。" "很高興見到你。我上次見你媽媽的時候，你正從她裙子裏面往外拱呢。" "如今也一樣，"塞絲笑道，"要是她還能鑽回去的話。"
丹芙站在最低一磴樓梯上，突然間又燙又羞。好久沒有什麼人（好心的白女人、牧師、演說家或是報社記者——他們眼中的反感證明他們同情的聲音不過是謊言）來坐在她們家的桌子旁邊了。遠在貝比奶奶去世以前，整整十二年時間裏，從沒有過任何一種來訪者，當然也就沒有朋友。

沒有黑人。當然更沒有頭髮這麼長的榛色男人，更沒有筆記本，沒有炭煤，沒有橙子，沒有一大堆問題。沒有媽媽願意與之交談的人，甚至光着腳也居然情願與之交談的人。媽媽看起來好像——實際上裝成——個小姑娘，而不是丹芙一直熟識的那個安靜的、王后般的女人。那個從不旁視的女人，看到一個人就在索亞餐館門前被母馬踢死也不把臉扭開的女人；看到一隻母豬開始吃自己的幼崽時也不把臉扭開的女人。就是那一次，"來，小鬼"被嬰兒的鬼魂提起來狠狠地扔到牆上，摔得它斷了兩條腿，眼睛錯位，渾身抽搐，嚼碎了自己的舌頭，她的媽媽也仍然沒有把臉扭開。她抄起一把榔頭把狗打昏，擦去血跡和唾沫，把眼睛按回腦袋，接好腿骨。後來它痊癒了，成了啞巴，走路搖搖擺擺的，不僅因爲彎曲的腿，更因爲不中用的眼睛。無論冬夏，不分晴雨，什麼也不能說服它再走進這房子一次。
就是這個女人，當年有本事去修理一隻疼得撒野的狗，現在正架起腿晃悠着，將視線從她自己女兒的身體上移開，好像視野里根本容不下她的身量似的。而且她和他誰都沒有穿鞋。又發燙，又害羞，現在丹芙是孤獨的。所有那些離去的——先是哥哥們，然後是奶奶——都是慘重的損失，因爲再沒有小孩願意圍着她做遊戲，或者彎着腿倒掛在她家門廊的欄杆上悠來蕩去了。
那些都沒有關係，只要她媽媽別再像現在這樣把臉扭開，搞得丹芙渴望，由衷地渴望一個來自那個嬰兒鬼魂的怨恨的表示。