《暮色》有声名著第二二章02(中英对照)

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2011-3-16 15:29

《暮色》有声名著第二二章02(中英对照)

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贝拉将自己流放到了福克斯这个偏僻且终年阴雨的小镇上,她怎么也想不到,就是这个抉择,让她与他相遇在命运的十字路口.眼神交会的那一瞬,彼此之间已经明白,等待他们的,除了幸福的诱惑,还有危险的深渊.互相倾心的两人,在爱情与危险间摆荡,一起度过新鲜而刺激的每一天.

As soon as the door opened I was off again, to the sound of annoyed murmurs behind me. I slowed myself as I passed the security guards by the luggage carousels, only to break into a run again as the exit doors came into view. I had no way of knowing if Jasper was looking for me yet.

I would have only seconds if he was following my scent. I jumped out the automatic doors, nearly smacking into the glass when they opened too slowly.

Along the crowded curb there wasn't a cab in sight.

I had no time. Alice and Jasper were either about to realize I was gone, or they already had. They would find me in a heartbeat.

A shuttle to the Hyatt was just closing its doors a few feet behind me.

"Wait!" I called, running, waving at the driver.

"This is the shuttle to the Hyatt," the driver said in confusion as he opened the doors.

"Yes," I huffed, "that's where I'm going." I hurried up the steps.

He looked askance at my luggage-less state, but then shrugged, not caring enough to ask.

Most of the seats were empty. I sat as far from the other travelers as possible, and watched out the window as first the sidewalk, and then the airport, drifted away. I couldn't help imagining Edward, where he would stand at the edge of the road when he found the end of my trail. I couldn't cry yet, I told myself. I still had a long way to go.

My luck held. In front of the Hyatt, a tired-looking couple was getting their last suitcase out of the trunk of a cab. I jumped out of the shuttle and ran to the cab, sliding into the seat behind the driver. The tired couple and the shuttle driver stared at me.

I told the surprised cabbie my mother's address. "I need to get there as soon as possible."

"That's in Scottsdale," he complained.

I threw four twenties over the seat.

"Will that be enough?"

"Sure, kid, no problem."

I sat back against the seat, folding my arms across my lap. The familiar city began to rush around me, but I didn't look out the windows. I exerted myself to maintain control. I was determined not to lose myself at this point, now that my plan was successfully completed. There was no point in indulging in more terror, more anxiety. My path was set. I just had to follow it now.

So, instead of panicking, I closed my eyes and spent the twenty minutes' drive with Edward.

I imagined that I had stayed at the airport to meet Edward. I visualized how I would stand on my toes, the sooner to see his face. How quickly, how gracefully he would move through the crowds of people separating us. And then I would run to close those last few feet between us — reckless as always — and I would be in his marble arms, finally safe.

I wondered where we would have gone. North somewhere, so he could be outside in the day. Or maybe somewhere very remote, so we could lay in the sun together again. I imagined him by the shore, his skin sparkling like the sea. It wouldn't matter how long we had to hide. To be trapped in a hotel room with him would be a kind of heaven. So many questions I still had for him. I could talk to him forever, never sleeping, never leaving his side.

I could see his face so clearly now… almost hear his voice. And, despite all the horror and hopelessness, I was fleetingly happy. So involved was I in my escapist daydreams, I lost all track of the seconds racing by.

"Hey, what was the number?"

The cabbie's question punctured my fantasy, letting all the colors run out of my lovely delusions. Fear, bleak and hard, was waiting to fill the empty space they left behind.

"Fifty-eight twenty-one." My voice sounded strangled. The cabbie looked at me, nervous that I was having an episode or something.

"Here we are, then." He was anxious to get me out of his car, probably hoping I wouldn't ask for my change.

"Thank you," I whispered. There was no need to be afraid, I reminded myself. The house was empty. I had to hurry; my mom was waiting for me, frightened, depending on me.

I ran to the door, reaching up automatically to grab the key under the eave. I unlocked the door. It was dark inside, empty, normal. I ran to the phone, turning on the kitchen light on my way. There, on the whiteboard, was a ten-digit number written in a small, neat hand. My fingers stumbled over the keypad, making mistakes. I had to hang up and start again. I concentrated only on the buttons this time, carefully pressing each one in turn. I was successful. I held the phone to my ear with a shaking hand. It rang only once.

"Hello, Bella," that easy voice answered. "That was very quick. I'm impressed."

"Is my mom all right?"

"She's perfectly fine. Don't worry, Bella, I have no quarrel with her. Unless you didn't come alone, of course." Light, amused.

"I'm alone." I'd never been more alone in my entire life.

"Very good. Now, do you know the ballet studio just around the corner from your home?"

"Yes. I know how to get there."

"Well, then, I'll see you very soon."

I hung up.

I ran from the room, through the door, out into the baking heat.

There was no time to look back at my house, and I didn't want to see it as it was now — empty, a symbol of fear instead of sanctuary. The last person to walk through those familiar rooms was my enemy.

From the corner of my eye, I could almost see my mother standing in the shade of the big eucalyptus tree where I'd played as a child. Or kneeling by the little plot of dirt around the mailbox, the cemetery of all the flowers she'd tried to grow. The memories were better than any reality I would see today. But I raced away from them, toward the corner, leaving everything behind me.

I felt so slow, like I was running through wet sand — I couldn't seem to get enough purchase from the concrete. I tripped several times, once falling, catching myself with my hands, scraping them on the sidewalk, and then lurching up to plunge forward again. But at last I made it to the corner. Just another street now; I ran, sweat pouring down my face, gasping. The sun was hot on my skin, too bright as it bounced off the white concrete and blinded me. I felt dangerously exposed. More fiercely than I would have dreamed I was capable of, I wished for the green, protective forests of Forks… of home.

When I rounded the last corner, onto Cactus, I could see the studio, looking just as I remembered it. The parking lot in front was empty, the vertical blinds in all the windows drawn. I couldn't run anymore — I couldn't breathe; exertion and fear had gotten the best of me. I thought of my mother to keep my feet moving, one in front of the other.

As I got closer, I could see the sign inside the door. It was handwritten on hot pink paper; it said the dance studio was closed for spring break. I touched the handle, tugged on it cautiously. It was unlocked. I fought to catch my breath, and opened the door.

The lobby was dark and empty, cool, the air conditioner thrumming. The plastic molded chairs were stacked along the walls, and the carpet smelled like shampoo. The west dance floor was dark, I could see through the open viewing window. The east dance floor, the bigger room, was lit. But the blinds were closed on the window.

Terror seized me so strongly that I was literally trapped by it. I couldn't make my feet move forward.

And then my mother's voice called.

"Bella? Bella?" That same tone of hysterical panic. I sprinted to the door, to the sound of her voice.

"Bella, you scared me! Don't you ever do that to me again!" Her voice continued as I ran into the long, high-ceilinged room.

I stared around me, trying to find where her voice was coming from. I heard her laugh, and I whirled to the sound.

There she was, on the TV screen, tousling my hair in relief. It was Thanksgiving, and I was twelve. We'd gone to see my grandmother in California, the last year before she died. We went to the beach one day, and I'd leaned too far over the edge of the pier. She'd seen my feet flailing, trying to reclaim my balance. "Bella? Bella?" she'd called to me in fear.

And then the TV screen was blue.

I turned slowly. He was standing very still by the back exit, so still I hadn't noticed him at first. In his hand was a remote control. We stared at each other for a long moment, and then he smiled.

He walked toward me, quite close, and then passed me to put the remote down next to the VCR. I turned carefully to watch him.

"Sorry about that, Bella, but isn't it better that your mother didn't really have to be involved in all this?" His voice was courteous, kind.

And suddenly it hit me. My mother was safe. She was still in Florida. She'd never gotten my message. She'd never been terrified by the dark red eyes in the abnormally pale face before me. She was safe.

"Yes," I answered, my voice saturated with relief.

"You don't sound angry that I tricked you." "I'm not." My sudden high made me brave. What did it matter now? It would soon be over. Charlie and Mom would never be harmed, would never have to fear. I felt almost giddy. Some analytical part of my mind warned me that I was dangerously close to snapping from the stress.

"How odd. You really mean it." His dark eyes assessed me with interest. The irises were nearly black, just a hint of ruby around the edges. Thirsty. "I will give your strange coven this much, you humans can be quite interesting. I guess I can see the draw of observing you. It's amazing — some of you seem to have no sense of your own self-interest at all."

一等电梯门打开,我又挤了出去,身后传来一阵恼怒的喃喃低语声。当我从自动扶梯上穿过安保岗时,我放慢了速度。当出口出现在眼前时,我又狂奔起来。我已经来不及细想贾斯帕是否正在找我了。

如果他循着我的味道跟着我时,我就只剩下几秒钟的时间了。我冲向自动门,因为它们打开地太慢,我还差点撞到了玻璃上。

在拥挤的马路旁,我一辆的士都没看见。

我没时间了。爱丽丝和贾斯帕就要知道我的逃跑了,或者,他们已经知道了。只需一下心跳的时间他们就能找到我。

在离我几步远的地方,一辆去往机场宾馆的穿梭巴士刚刚关上门。

"等一下!"我大喊着跑过去,一路冲着司机招手。

"这是去往机场宾馆的穿梭巴士。"司机用困惑的声音说着,打开了门。

"是的,"我怒气冲冲地说道。"这正是我要去的地方。"我赶忙奔上那几级踏板。

他斜着眼看着没带任何行李的我,却只是耸耸肩,懒得发问。

大多数的座位都空着,我尽可能地坐得离别的乘客更远些,然后看向窗外。第一眼先看人行道,再看机场,然后我的目光在这两者之间游离不定。我情不自禁地想象着爱德华的样子,想象着他追随着我的踪迹,然后站在了马路边上的样子。我还不能哭,我告诉自己,我还有很长的路要走。

我的运气显灵了。机场宾馆的门口,一对看上去很疲惫的夫妇正在把他们的最后一件行李从一辆的士的后备箱里拿出来。我跳下穿梭巴士,奔向那辆的士,迅速坐进司机身后的那个作为上。那对疲倦的夫妇和那个穿梭巴士司机都盯着我看。

我把我妈妈的住址告诉了那个一脸惊讶的出租车司机。"我要尽快赶到那里,越快越好。"

"那可是在菲尼克斯。"他抱怨道。

我把四张二十美元的钞票扔到前排座位上。

“这些够了吗?“

“当然,孩子,没问题。“

我坐回座位上,双臂交叠着抱住膝盖。熟悉的城市开始包围着我,但我根本不想看出窗外去。我努力让自己保持自制力。既然我的计划进行得如此顺利,我下定决心不让自己在这个时候崩溃。让自己沉浸在更多的恐惧和焦虑中是毫无意义的。我已经选择了这条路。现在我所能是继续走下去。

所以,我不再惶恐,而是闭上眼睛,用那二十分钟的车程尽情想着爱德华。

我想象着自己留在机场,与爱德华相见。我想象着,自己会怎样踮起脚尖,想要早些看见他的脸;他会怎样迅速而又优雅地穿过分隔着我们的拥挤的人群。然后,我会像平常一样鲁莽地冲上前去,走完我们之间的最后几步,然后落入他大理石般的怀抱。最终,我会平安无恙。

我想知道我们将会去那里。也许是北方的某个地方,这样他就能在白天外出。又或许是某个非常偏远的地方,这样我们就能再次躺在阳光下。我想象着他在海滩上的样子,他的肌肤会像海水一样闪闪发光。我不在乎我们得躲藏多久。和他一起困住宾馆房间里的时光一定宛如天堂。我还有那么多的问题想要问题。我可以一直和他谈话,永远也不睡觉,永远不离开他身边。

现在,我是如此清晰的看到了他的脸……几乎都能听到他的声音了。尽管有如此多的恐惧和绝望,我依然抓住了这短暂的欢乐。我太沉迷于自己逃避现实的白日梦里了,以至于完全忘记了时间的流逝。

“嗨,门牌号是多少?“

出租车司机的发问打破了我的白日梦,我幻觉里的所有色彩都荡然无存。恐惧,凄凉和艰难,正等着填补幻觉消失后所留下来的空白。

“5821。“我的声音听起来快要窒息了。那个司机紧张地看着我,就好像我是某个有趣的小插曲。
“那么,你到了。“他不安地看着我下车,也许只是在希望着我不要让他找钱。

“谢谢。“我喃喃低语着。没有必要感到害怕,我提醒自己。家里现在没人。我得抓紧时间。我的母亲正等着我,她一定已经吓坏了,只能指望我。

我跑向大门,本能地伸出手去取屋檐下的钥匙。我打开了门。屋里很黑,空无一人,一切正常。我向电话机跑去,在路上打开了厨房的灯。在那里,就在那块白板上,写着一行十位数字,字迹小巧工整。我的手指颤抖着伸向电话键盘,却拨错了。我不得不挂上电话,重新拨号。这次我把注意力全都集中在按钮上,小心地按顺序按下每一个按钮。我成功了。我用颤抖的手把电话举到耳边。电话只响了一下就接通了。

“你好,贝拉。“那个从容不迫的声音说道。“你真的很快。我对此印象深刻。“

“我妈妈还好吗?“

“她相当好。别担心,贝拉,我没和她吵架。当然,除非你不是一个人来。“

“就我一个人。“终我一生,我都没有如此孤独过。

“非常好。现在,你知不知道你家附近的那家芭蕾舞教室?“

“知道。我知道怎么去那里。“

“很好,那么,我们待会见,很快。“

我挂上了电话。

我跑出房间,穿过大门,冲进灼人的热浪里。

没有时间回头再看一眼我的家了,我也不想看到它现在这个样子——空无一人,成为了恐惧而非避难所的象征。上一个走过这些房间的人是我的敌人。

通过眼角的余光,我仿佛看见了我的母亲站在那棵巨大的桉树的阴影里,看着还是个孩子的我玩耍着。她仿佛又跪在了信箱旁的那小小的一掊土旁,那是她试图种养的所有花儿的墓地。那些回忆比我今天所看到的所有真实都更加美好。但我飞快地从它们身旁跑开,冲向街道的拐角处,把一切都抛在了身后。

我总觉得自己跑得太慢,仿佛自己正在泥泞的沙地上奔跑一样——我似乎没法从水泥地上得到足够的支撑力。我被绊到了好几次,还有一次摔倒了。我伸出手想稳住自己,我的手在人行道上蹭破了皮。我摇摇晃晃地爬起来,继续向前跑去。最终,我跑过了那个街角。现在只剩一条街了。我喘息着,奔跑着,汗水自我的脸上倾注而下。阳光灼烧着我的肌肤,白色的水泥地面上反射着太过明亮的光线,晃了我的眼。我觉得自己被极其危险地一览无遗。我强烈地,比我所能想到的还要强烈得多的,思念着福克斯那翠绿的,给予庇护的森林……思念着我的家。
当我转过最后一个街角,冲进仙人掌街的时候,我能看到那间舞蹈教室了,它看上去依然是我记忆中的那个样子。教室门前的停车位是空的,屋里所有的竖式窗帘都拉了下来。我跑不动了——我甚至没法呼吸,筋疲力尽和恐惧夺走了我的优势。我想着我的母亲,这才能让自己迈动步子,一步接一步地往前走。

当我走得更近些的时候,我看到了门里贴着的那张告示。那是一张手写的,写在深粉红色的纸张上的告示,上面说舞蹈教室因为春假而暂时关闭。我伸手去摸扶手,警惕地拧动它。门没锁。我强迫自己稳住呼吸,然后打开了门。

大厅里阴暗又空旷,很是凉爽,空调嗡嗡响着。 那些塑料扶手椅靠墙叠放着,地毯闻起来像是洗发水的味道。西面的舞蹈室里很暗,我能从那扇敞开的观察窗里看到那整个房间。东边的那间更大的舞蹈室的灯亮着,但那边的窗子的帘子拉了下来。

恐惧牢牢地抓住我,我简直要被困在其中了。我没法让自己迈动步子。然后,我妈妈的声音在大喊着。

“贝拉?贝拉?“一模一样的充满了竭斯底里的恐惧的声音。我奋力冲向那扇门,冲向她的声音。

“贝拉,你吓坏我了!你可不能再这样对我了!“当我奔进那间长长的,天花板很高的房间时,她的声音继续说着。

我环顾四周,试图找出她的声音是在哪里发出来的。我听到了她的笑声,急忙转过去面向她的声音。
她在那里,在电视屏幕上,如释重负地抚弄着我的发。那是在感恩节,我那时十二岁。我们去看住在加利福尼亚的外祖母,那是在她去世的前一年。有一天我们去了海滩,我靠得离码头的边缘太远了。她看到我的脚有些不稳,试图抓住我让我保持平衡。“贝拉?贝拉?“她惊恐地冲我大喊。

然后,电视机屏幕变成了蓝屏。

我慢慢地转过身去。他一动不动地站在后面的那个出口前,所以起初我完全没有注意到他。他手里拿着一只遥控器。我们久久地凝望着彼此,然后,他笑了。

他向我走来,走到离我很近的地方,然后从我身旁走过去,把遥控器放到录像机旁。我小心地转过身去看着他。

“我对此事很抱歉,贝拉,但你的母亲并没有真的被牵扯进来,这不是更好吗?“

他的声音既谦恭又友好。

忽然间,这个事实向我迎头击下。我的母亲安全了。她还在佛罗里达。她从没接到我的留言。她从没被我眼前这张异常苍白的脸上那双阴暗的血红双眼所吓到。她安全了。

“是的,“我答道。我的声音里渗满了宽慰。

“你听起来并没有因为我欺骗你而生气。“

“我没有。“我突如其来的情绪高涨让我勇敢了起来。现在这件事还重要吗?一切很快就要结束了。查理和妈妈永远不会受到伤害,永远不必恐惧。我感到一阵头晕目眩。我脑子里的某些善于推理的部分警告我,我现在很危险,很有可能会因为压力的骤然消失而崩溃掉。

“真奇怪。你就是这个意思。“他阴暗的眼睛饶有趣味地估量着我。他的虹膜几近黑色,仅仅是在虹膜边缘才有一丝深红色。口渴。“我给你那个古怪的巫会送上这样一份大礼,你这个人类一定会很感兴趣的。我猜,通过观察你,我看到了一场精彩的演出。这实在很惊人——你们中的一些人完全没有注意到你的私心。“