英文
Come Along with Me 5
When I decided it was time for me to give a seance, I spoke to Mrs. Faun first, of course, since it was her house and I had no idea how she might feel about people coming around asking in her own house; “I thought I might hold a kind of a small seance,” I said to her.
“What would that include?” she asked me.
“Well, I sit in the middle, and everyone sits around, and we might have sherry. And then I give messages.”
“Who provides the sherry?”
“Everyone has some kind of a question they'd like to get answered. Some kind of a question can only be answered from beyond.”
I was sure she was going to say “Beyond what?” so I said quickly, “You don't have to believe if you don't want to.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I'll let you have the cooking sherry.”
“May I use the little parlor?”
“That means I'd have to come,” Mrs. Faun said. “Unless I choose to sit in the kitchen all the time.”
“I'd be honored if you'd come.”
“Who else would be here?”
I had made a little sign reading MESSAGES OBTAINED. QUESTIONS ANSWERED. FORTUNES and tacked it up in the bookshop I found my first day. Several people had been interested. The bookshop lady had promised to let them know. So I told Mrs. Faun, “I think there will be several people. And of course anyone from the house.”
“Not Tom. I don't allow him seances.”
“Has the question ever come up before?”
“Not that I ever thought it would. But he can read all right in his room. He doesn't listen in.”
“One reason I want to use the little parlor is that chair.”
Mrs. Faun actually laughed. “It used to be my husband's favorite chair,” she said. “Night after night.”
“Did he ever get any manifestations, sitting there?”
“Not that he thought it worthwhile mentioning. But it's a good chair. I don't much care for it myself, but I could sell it for money.”
It was a good chair. It had a back higher than my head, and the arms were solid, and altogether it looked something like a throne of which the seat had been amply seasoned by Mr. Faun's bottom. Whenever the door of the little parlor was open I sneaked in and sat down for a minute; I liked that chair.
“Are you sure,” Mrs. Faun asked me, “that you are not tampering with things better left alone? Are you sure that you know what you are doing? Are you sure, Mrs. Motorman, that you are not stirring up some kind of trouble that will hang around my house?”
“It's exactly like taking a long-distance call,” I told her. “Once you hang up, it's over.”
“I never knew a long-distance call didn't mean trouble for someone.”
The little parlor had drapes, which Mrs. Faun never closed, which is why the dust rose when I closed them, which is why I sneezed and Mrs. Faun scowled; she kept a clean house, generally. I moved the fine chair into the center of the room, and we put a few dining-room chairs around, not too many because I wasn't sure how many would come and I didn't want to look anxious, but enough so no one would stand; no one stood around in Mrs. Faun's house; perhaps because Tom was always sitting down she thought people standing were uncomfortable. Although I have plenty of money I put a large orange bowl, in which Mrs. Faun usually kept apples, on a low table moved just enough out from the wall to be noticeable. “People expect this,” I told Mrs. Faun.
“I'll bring the sherry and the glasses,” she said, “and you can pay me out of the pot.”
“It's really a hobby of mine, mostly. But if it does people good, why keep it to myself?”
“If more people kept more things to themselves this world would be a better place.” Mrs. Faun gave the curtain a little shake. “How you can find dust beats me,” she said.
I don't know what the bookstore lady could have said around the bookstore, or even what Mrs. Faun might have said around the neighborhood, because when I came to give my seance there were eight people, which made us nine altogether, which is good. I had decided to wear my long dark-blue dress. It doesn't fit as well as it used to, but who says a psychic has to be smart? It has these long sleeves, and I wore my pearls; I will say that for Hughie, he didn't stint me.
All right, I thought, I'll try it once anyway. They all sat there watching me as though they dared me to put something over on them, the watchful, the eager, the perceptive. I realized I was stalling; there were a number of things I wanted to do right now a lot more than lean back and close my eyes in the face of those watching people; I knew they would keep on staring at me after I was gone, and I hated that. I could have said right then that it was a joke, but they would have believed me. “I don't know anything about all this,” came to my mind, “please, all of you, go away and don't try to make me do something I hate.” But of course I didn't; I looked each of them right in the eye, thinking I hate you I hate you I hope you are brutally disappointed, and I nodded at Mrs. Faun, who at least was almost snarling out loud, and I leaned back and felt the worn velvet of the chair against the back of my neck and wondered who was clamoring around just inside waiting to come around asking, and I closed my eyes. I could hear them breathing. Easy, slow, contemptuous, that would be Mrs. Faun, waiting to be shown. Then the others, quick and eager, a little woman watching, the men aware, alert, dishonest.
I was in a great hall, lofty, pillared, reaching into the distance. There were flowers in great pots, and—the old crystal palace, maybe?—tall glittering walls; there were many people. I waited quietly, not knowing who was going to come around asking, and waited and waited, and then found one man singled out, almost drifting to where I waited, almost moving without movement, surely without sound. “A tall man,” I said, and heard my own voice remotely, “a tall man, wanting something. He has gray hair. He is not very old, but he has gray hair.”
“My father,” someone said.
“My brother,” someone else said.
“Excuse me. My father.”
“He says,” and I raised my voice, hearing it speak out there, to them, while I listened inside, “he says to take up the book he left behind, the book that he held in his hands near the end, the book he was holding in his hands. He says to take up the book and turn to page... page... page... it has an eight and a five.”
“Dad?”
“I beg your pardon. My brother. I know the very book.”
“An eight and a five; find the page and there will be a message—a letter?—a message. He says he left a message.”
“Ask him if he is happy. Tell him it's his sister asking.”
“Excuse me—”
“He does not know the word happy. He is here, and that is all. He is going now.”
“I'm sure it was my father; if I had been given a chance to speak—”
“Someone is here,” I said. I heard my voice saying it. “Someone is here asking for Alice? Anna? Angela?” I knew even then there was something wrong with Angela, but I had forgotten what. “Alice?”
“My wife? Her name is Agnes.”
“She is ill, is she not? Someone is asking if she is better, if her illness has abated; someone is asking that you tell her the old medicine is better. Someone wants her to know that she is being taken care of, someone is over her now, comforting her.”
“But the old medicine didn't—”
“Tell her someone is caring for her. She will be better.”
“Will you ask my father to come back again? I must speak to him, really.”
“There are many many many here, some of them wanting to speak, some of them moving away. One who wants to speak is asking for a daughter, but it is not a father who wants a daughter; someone is asking for a daughter. Is there a daughter here?”
“My mother? My mother wants to talk to me? What for?”
“Are you well? Are you contented? Someone is asking if you are well.”
“It's not my mother then, because she—”
“Gone now. Some are pressing close to me, some are far away. Here is someone with a message. Do not forget old Ginger.”
“What?”
“Do not forget old Ginger.” My Lord, I thought, from somewhere far away, old Ginger was my cat. Messages for myself. Better quit soon. “Do not forget old Ginger,” I said, as though I ever could. “Here is someone asking, asking; a message for a wife.”
“I don't want it,” Mrs. Faun said; I could hear her voice thin and annoyed. “Tell him to go away again; I don't want to hear anything he has to say.”
“Someone is here, someone who wants to ask about a little child. Was the little child lost? Did it ever come home again? Where is the little child?”
“Get my father back; we don't know any little—”
“Now there is a message here, a message for T. L.”
“Me? The first initial's really J., but they always called me Teddy; I guess it's for me.”
“Good fortune in store for you, T. L., great good fortune is being warned against; do not be deceived.”
So that was my first seance; it couldn't have been a very good one, since no one said anything, and there was only thirty-five cents in the pot; I had to pay fifty cents more out of my own pocket for the sherry.
“All they talk about is death and dying,” I said to Mrs. Faun after she had seen them out. “And they are cheap.”
“What do you expect?” She opened the drapes, blowing dust off her nose.
“They could take a little bit more interest.”
“If they were interested in real life they wouldn't have come to listen to you. You'll find out.”
I thought she was being unnecessarily dreary, but that, as it turned out, was going to be Mrs. Faun's way. “They're all crazy,” she said, “all they want is to be told what to do. They wait for some crackpot to give them the word.”
“If by crackpot you mean—”
“I mean what I mean,” Mrs. Faun said. “If the shoe fits, Mrs. Motorman.”
中文
跟我来 5
我决定是该举行降神会的时候了，当然，这事我首先得跟弗恩太太说说，因为这是她的房子，我不知道人们开始纷纷来她家求神问卜她会怎么想。“我觉得应该举办一场小型的降神会了。”我对她说。
“都包括哪些内容？”她问我。
“呃，大家围一圈坐着，我坐在中间，我们要喝点儿雪利酒，然后我就能传递信息了。”
“谁提供雪利酒？”
“每个人都有自己希望得到答案的一类问题。这类问题其实可以得到逝去人的回答。”
我敢肯定她马上会说“什么逝去人？”，所以我很快地说道：“如果你不想相信，大可不必当真。”
“谢谢你，”她说道，“我会给你们提供烹饪用的雪利酒的。”
“我能再用一下小客厅吗？”
“那就意味着我得参加，”弗恩太太说道，“除非我选择总是坐在厨房里。”
“您若能参加，我会不胜荣幸。”
“还有什么人参加？”
我早先已经做好了小的标识纸，上面写着“获得的信息”“需要回答的问题”“运势”，然后把它们都钉在我第一天就发现了的书店里。好几个人都表示有兴趣，书店的老板娘承诺会广而告之。于是我告诉弗恩太太，“我觉得会来好几个人，当然了，还有咱们这栋房子里的人。”
“不能包括汤姆，我不允许他来参加降神会。”
“以前出现过什么问题吗？”
“我从没想过会这样。但是他在自己的房间里看书就可以了，他不用进来听。”
“我想用这个小客厅的一个原因就是那把椅子。”
弗恩太太实际上笑了。“那曾是我丈夫最喜欢的椅子，”她说道，“每天晚上他都坐在那儿。”
“他曾经有过什么反应吗，坐在那儿？”
“他从来没想过那有什么值得一提的。但是这把椅子确实不错，不过我自己并不在乎，如果能卖个好价钱，我也会把它卖掉。”
它是把好椅子，椅背都高过我的头顶了，两个扶手也很结实，整体看上去有点儿像王座，不过座位一年四季已经被弗恩太太的屁股宠幸了无数次。每次小客厅的门开着，我都会偷偷溜进去坐上一小会儿，我喜欢那把椅子。
“你确定，”弗恩太太问我，“你不会把原来好好的东西瞎动吧？你确定你知道你正在干什么吗？你确定，摩妥尔曼太太，不会给我捅什么娄子让四邻不安吧？”
“确切地说，有点儿像打长途电话，”我告诉她，“一旦你挂上电话，一切都结束了。”
“我还真不知道一个长途电话对某人来说不意味着麻烦。”
小客厅有一些帷帘，但弗恩太太从不把它们拉上。这也是为什么当我把它们拉上时有很多灰尘飞扬，为什么我忍不住打着喷嚏，弗恩太太对我直皱眉。总的来说，她把家收拾得还是挺干净利落的。我把那把好椅子挪到了房间的中央，在四周摆放了一圈餐厅椅子，没摆太多，因为我不确定会有多少人来，我也不想看上去那么焦虑，只要是没人站着就行。在弗恩太太的房子里，没人会四下站着。或许是因为汤姆总是坐着的缘故，所以她以为人们站着会很不舒服。虽然我有很多钱，但我找了一个橘色的大碗准备放钱，这个碗是弗恩太太经常摆放苹果的，碗放在一个低矮的桌子上，能够注意到桌子挪动得和墙有了一定的距离。“人们可能会扔些零钱。”我告诉弗恩太太。
“我到时会拿来雪利酒和杯子，”她说道，“你可以从伙食费里补给我这部分钱。”
“主要的，那真的是我的一项业余爱好。但是如果它对人们有好处，我为什么要藏而不露呢？”
“如果大多数的人能对大多数的事情藏而不露，这个世界会更加美好。”弗恩太太轻轻地抖动了一下窗帘，“你竟然能发现灰尘来打击我。”她说道。
我不知道书店老板娘在书店的周围怎么给我做的广告，我甚至不知道弗恩太太在小区里都说了些什么，因为当我准备进行降神会时，竟然有八个人到场，加上我，一共有九个人，能来这么多人真的不错了。我决定穿上深蓝色的长袍，现在穿着已经不像以前那么合身了，但谁说一名通灵师一定要穿得光鲜呢？这件衣服的袖子很长，我还戴上了珍珠项链，我会说那是为了休伊，他在我身上从不吝惜钱。
一切妥当，我心想，我将再一次尝试。他们都坐在那里看着我，好像他们害怕我把什么东西罩在他们身上，脸上带着一种警惕的、急切的、敏锐的神情。我意识到自己有点儿拖延。现在我有太多的事情想做，在这么多人的目光注视下，我向后仰着，紧闭双眼。我知道在我灵魂出窍后，他们会一直盯着我，我不喜欢这样。那时我应该马上告诉他们这是个笑话，但是他们是那么信任我。“我对招魂术一无所知，”这个念头在我脑中闪现，“拜托了，你们所有人，都走吧，别再让我做我不喜欢的事情了。”不过我当然不会这么做。我依次看着他们，心想我恨你们，我恨你们，我希望你们彻底失望。我冲弗恩太太点着头，她在大声怒吼，我向后靠着，感觉到椅子上破旧的天鹅绒正摩擦着我的后颈，想知道谁在周围喧哗，进到圈里等着提问，我闭上了眼睛。我能听见他们的呼吸声，放松、缓慢、表示鄙视的呼吸声应该是弗恩太太的，她等着要登场。然后是其他人的，急促而迫切。一位小个女人在看着，男人们也在察觉着、警惕着，很不老实。
我在大厅里，巍峨的大柱子一直伸展到远方。大花坛里有朵朵鲜花，还有——古老的水晶宫殿，也许是吧？——高大闪光的墙壁；还有很多的人。我安静地等待，不知道谁将过来问，等着，等着，然后发现一个男人被挑出，几乎是飘到了我等待的地方，几乎没有动作，当然更没有声音，但人已经过来了。“一名高个男人，”我说道，好像我的声音从遥远的地方传来，“一名高个男人，有所祈求。他的头发灰白，年纪并不是很老，但头发已经灰白。”
“我的父亲。”有人说。
“我的哥哥。”还有人说。
“对不住，应该是我父亲。”
“他说，”我提高了声音，我在里面聆听着，听见他在那边对着他们说话，“他说拿起他留下的那本书，这本书是他临终时拿在手上的，他现在也正拿着这本书。他说拿起这本书，翻到页码……页码……页码……第八页和第五页。”
“爸爸？”
“对不起，是我哥哥，我知道那本书。”
“第八页和第五页。找到那一页，那儿留有信息——一封信？——一条信息。他说留了一条信息。”
“问问他是否幸福。告诉他是他妹妹问的。”
“对不住……”
“他不知道这个词——幸福。他就在这儿，就是这样。他现在要走了。”
“我敢肯定是我父亲，如果我刚才有机会说话……”
“有人在这儿了。”我说道。我能听见自己说话的声音，“这儿有人在找爱丽丝？安娜？安吉拉？”我意识到安吉拉好像有点儿不大对，但是我忘了哪儿不对了，“爱丽丝？”
“我妻子吗？她的名字是艾格尼丝。”
“她病了，是她吗？有人问她是否好些了，病情是否缓解了。有人要你告诉她旧的药方更对症。有人想让她知道她正在得到照料，有人现在正在照顾她，安慰她。”
“但是旧的药没有……”
“告诉她有人正在照顾她，她会好些的。”
“你能让我父亲再回来吗？我必须跟他说句话，真的。”
“这儿有太多太多太多的人了，有的人正想说话，有的人正在离开。一个想说话的人想找女儿，但不是父亲在找女儿。有人在找一个女儿，有做女儿的在这里吗？”
“我母亲吗？我母亲想跟我说话吗？想说些什么呀？”
“你还好吗？你对生活满意吗？有人问你是否安好。”
“那就不是我母亲，因为她……”
“现在已经走了。一些人蜂拥而至，一些人已经渐渐走远。这儿又有了一条信息。不要忘了老金基尔。”
“什么？”
“不要忘了老金基尔。”我的上帝，我心想，从遥远的记忆深处认识到，老金基尔是我曾养过的猫的名字。这是给我的信息，最好赶紧忽略它。“不要忘了老金基尔。”我说道，好像若无其事的样子，“现在又有人问了，在问。给一位妻子的信息。”
“我不想听，”弗恩太太说道。我能听见她的声音底气不足，带着点儿恼怒。“告诉他走吧，我不想听他说的任何话。”
“有人来了，有人想谈谈一个小孩子的事情。是那个小孩子丢了吗？是他又回来了吗？小孩子在哪里？”
“让我父亲回来吧，我们丝毫不知道……”
“现在又来了一条信息，一条给T.L.的信息。”
“是我吗？实际上我名字的首字母是J，但他们总叫我泰迪，我想这信息是给我的。”
“好福气正等着你，T.L.，更大的幸事是有人在告诫你，不要受骗上当。”
这就是我的第一次的降神会。不能说它办得很成功，因为没人给它任何评价，而且碗里只有三十五美分，我不得不从自己腰包里再掏出五十美分付雪利酒的钱。
“他们谈论的一切都是有关死亡和濒死的事情的，”在弗恩太太把客人送走后，我对她说，“他们也都是些穷光蛋。”
“你指望得到些什么？”她打开了窗帘，挥手掸去鼻子前的灰尘。
“他们应该表现出更大的兴趣。”
“如果他们对现实生活感兴趣，他们就不会来听你的降神会了，你会明白的。”
我觉得她正陷入毫无必要的沮丧当中，但是，这也证明了，这正是弗恩太太的独特方式。“他们都疯了，”她说道，“他们想知道的只是有人告诉他们做什么。他们在等着某个怪人给他们指示。”
“某个怪人，你的意思是……”
“我的意思很清楚了，”弗恩太太说道，“鞋是否合适，只有脚知道，摩妥尔曼太太。”
