Part One-8

类别:文学名著 作者:卡森·麦卡勒斯 本章:Part One-8

    Mick put ture back on t s  s drao  reason—and in  it didnt give he

    same feeling t music did. Nothing was really as good as music.

    Mick knelt doed top of tbox. Inside rung rings, a guitar string and a banjo string. tly mended icking plaster and trings at ther side.

    Mick  before. Some time ago stle play mandolin out of a cigar box  put to  sed all over everys and added a little to t seemed to  use her head.

    Bill, t look like any real violin I ever saw. ill reading—Yeah—?’

    It just dont look rig just dont------’

    So tune t day by scre since surned out s  to look at it. Sloer anottle hollow-sounding ping.

    a boo be made out of just iently.

    Notrung on a limber stick would do?’

    Bill rubbed  against eac answer.

    Anger made beads of s come out on her forehead.

    s not even a bad violin. Its onlya cross bete them------’

    Bill turned around.

    Its all turned out   do. Its no good. tipe do carrying on about t old broken ukulele youve been fooling old you at first it o ts one t sit do to buy them. I

    t anybody . But I figured it   yon if you found out for yourself.’

    Sometimes sed Bill more the world.

    entirely from ed to slam tomp on it, but instead s it back rougo tbox. tears  Bill.

    As so get to to her Mama.

    s tter  o now?’

    Mick tried to jerk loose, but o her arm.

    Sullenly sears from c on  ime to ask ions.

    Mr. Jackson  ers to dinner and t be but just enougoday youre to eat in tch Bubber.’

    t*s h me, Mick said.

    to take off break of talking. S by not keeping up  insurance until time   off . tter of diser a opped.

    Mick leaned on ters of tairs. tarted  seemed to  back over t mont s t in  s making  o believe a little. Sired out. Bill  ever a o t person in to folloer him

    every place — out fiso t o t macaurant—every to let  anyhey could never be good buddies again.

    In ttes and Sunday dinner. Mick took a deep breatoco smell good and she was hungry.

    Sias voice as salked to Bubber, and it was like selling ory.

    And t is t more fortunate t colored girls, Portia said as she door. hy? asked Mick.

    Portia and Bubber ting at tcable eating tias green print dress  ig.

    You all time pounce in on tail of  to kno it, Portia said. S up and stood over t stove, putting dinner on Micks plate.

    Bubber and me  talking about my Grandpapas  on telling Bubber een and a s four of tton, some years so peas to keep t ric for peacime from ty to ty-five laying able patcrees and plenty figs and plums and berries. trut many we farms heir land good as my Grandpapa.’

    Mick put able and leaned over e.

    Portia alk about t about o ell it you  colored farm e self.

    tarted  one little room. And t on until ton. In they haves a real organ and a

    gramopure of my Grandpapa taken in  and vegetables and no matter er turns tty near alo eat.’

    go live hen? Mick asked.

    Portia stopped peeling atoes and apped on table in time to ;t is. See—eac on imes is  see—I lived tle girl. But I  never done any  there since.

    Any time, ts in bad trouble us can always go back.’

    Didnt your Father build on a room?’

    Portia stopped cher?’

    quot;Sure, said Mick.

    You knoor rigown.’

    Mick ia say t before, but s it ale. or?

    ?t is. Before tune my Mama married my Fat real kindness. My Grandpa is Mister Kind  my Fat from .’

    Mean?asked Mick.

    quot;No,  a mean man, Portia said slo just t sometter. My Fat like oto explain. My Fatime studying by ime ago aken up all tions about  to be. tle t nigried to teach us children lessons.’

    quot;t dont sound so bad to me, said Mick.

    listen  of time . But ts  .  madder t he was a sure enough crazy man. he done

    en years old at time. Our Mama taken us co Grandpapas farm and us  time ed us to come back. But even ay all by hisself.’

    Mick  to tove and filled e a second time.

    Portias voice op her now.

    I doesnt see my Fat I done a lot of t  e man in to God and turned o religion.

    All roubles come do to t.’

    Portia ed.  to talking about God—or illie,  excited.

    No a big ser. I belongs to terian C alking in tongues. Us dont get sanctified ever ogets tell you trut ttle singing and a little preac you, Mick. You ougo take your little broto ty big enougo sit in cy ing lately it seem to me like you already got one toe in t.’

    Nuts, Mick said.

    Now highboy he were holiness boy before us were married.

    o get t ever Sunday and s and sanctify  after us  o join  kind of o keep  sometime I t well.’

    I dont believe in God any more ta Oaus, Mick said.

    You  a minute! ts ime seem to me you favor my Fathan any person I ever knowed.’

    Me? You say / favor him?’

    I dont mean in t the shape and color of your souls.’

    Bubber sat looking from one to tied around ill y spoon.

    all does God eat? he asked.

    Mick got up from table and stood in to leave. Sometimes it o devil Portia. Sarted on tune and said t was all she knew.

    Folks like you and my Fat attend t never  all. Noake me oo. And my  seem to me just from looking at oo. I done felt t t time I seen him.’

    your oher of yours could ever be.’

    But you  never loved God nor even nair person. You oug just the same I knows you.

    ternoon you going to roam all over t never being satisfied. You going to traipse all arpund like you o find somet. You going to ement Your  going to beat o kill you because you dont love and dont o bust loose and be ruined. ont nothen.’

    , Portia? Bubber asked.  kind of t?’

    Mick laugamped out of the room.


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