世纪文学经典:《百年孤独》第16章Part4

Macondo was in ruins. In the swampy streets there were the remains of furniture, animal skeletons covered with red lilies, the last memories of the hordes of newcomers who had fled Macondo as wildly as they had arrived. The houses that had been built with such haste during the banana fever had been abandoned. The banana company tore down its installations. All that remained of the former wired-in city were the ruins. The wooden houses, the cool terraces for breezy card-playing afternoons, seemed to have been blown away in an anticipation of the prophetic wind that years later would wipe Macondo off the face of the earth. The only human trace left by that voracious blast was a glove belonging to Patricia Brown in an automobile smothered in wild pansies. The enchanted region explored by Jos?Arcadio Buendía in the days of the founding, where later on the banana plantations flourished, was a bog of rotting roots, on the horizon of which one could manage to see the silent foam of the sea. Aureliano Segundo went through a crisis of affliction on the first Sunday that he put on dry clothes and went out to renew his acquaintance with the town. The survivors of the catastrophe, the same ones who had been living in Macondo before it had been struck by the banana company hurricane, were sitting in the middle of the street enjoying their first sunshine. They still had the green of the algae on their skin and the musty smell of a corner that had been stamped on them by the rain, but in their hearts they seemed happy to have recovered the town in which they had been born. The Street of the Turks was again what it had been earlier, in the days when the Arabs with slippers and rings in their ears were going about the world swapping knickknacks for macaws and had found in Macondo a good bend in the road where they could find respite from their age-old lot as wanderers. Having crossed through to the other side of the rain. the merchandise in the booths was falling apart, the cloths spread over the doors were splotched with mold,the counters undermined by termites, the walls eaten away by dampness, but the Arabs of the third generation were sitting in the same place and in the same position as their fathers and grandfathers, taciturn, dauntless, invulnerable to time and disaster, as alive or as dead as they had been after the insomnia plague and Colonel Aureliano Buendía’s thirty-two wars. Their strength of spirit in the face of ruins of the gaming tables, the fritter stands, the shooting galleries, and the alley where they interpreted dreams and predicted the future made Aureliano Segundo ask them with his usual informality what mysterious resources they had relied upon so as not to have gone awash in the storm, what the devil they had done so as not to drown, and one after the other, from door to door, they returned a crafty smile and a dreamy look, and without any previous consultation they all gave the answer:
“Swimming.?
Petra Cotes was perhaps the only native who had an Arab heart. She had seen the final destruction of her stables, her barns dragged off by the storm. but she had managed to keep her house standing. During the second year she had sent pressing messages to Aureliano Segundo and he had answered that he did not know when he would go back to her house, but that in any case he would bring along a box of gold coins to pave the bedroom floor with. At that time she had dug deep into her heart, searching for the strength that would allow her to survive the misfortune, and she had discovered a reflective and just rage with which she had sworn to restore the fortune squandered by her lover and then wiped out by the deluge. It was such an unbreakable decision that Aureliano Segundo went back to her house eight months after the last message and found her green disheveled, with sunken eyelids and skin spangled with mange, but she was writing out numbers on small pieces of paper to make a raffle. Aureliano Segundo was astonished, and he was so dirty and so solemn that Petra Cotes almost believed that the one who had come to see her was not the lover of all her life but his twin brother.
“You’re crazy,?he told her. “Unless you plan to raffle off bones?
Then she told him to look in the bedroom and Aureliano Segundo saw the mule. Its skin was clinging to its bones like that of its mistress, but it was just as alive and resolute as she. Petra Cotes had fed it with her wrath, and when there was no more hay or corn or roots, she had given it shelter in her own bedroom and fed it on the percale sheets, the Persian rugs, the plush bedspreads, the velvet drapes, and the canopy embroidered with gold thread and silk tassels on the episcopal bed.

马孔多成了一片废墟。街道上是一个个水潭，污泥里到处都露出破烂的家具和牲畜的骸骨，骸骨上长出了红百合花一－这是一群外国佬最后的纪念品，他们匆忙地来到马孔多，又匆忙地逃离了马孔多。“香蕉热”时期急速建筑起来的房屋已经抛弃了。香蕉公司运走了自己所有的东西。在铁丝网围着的小镇那儿，只留下了一堆堆垃圾，那一座座木房子，从前每天傍晚凉台上都有人无忧无虑地玩纸牌，也象被狂风刮走了，这种狂风是未来十二级飓风的前奏；多年以后，那种飓风注定要把马孔多从地面上一扫而光。在这一次致命的狂风之后，从前这儿住过人的唯一证明。是帕特里西娅。 布劳恩忘在小汽车里的一只手套，小汽车上爬满了三色茧。霍.阿布恩蒂亚建村时期勘探过的“魔区”，嗣后香蕉园曾在这儿繁荣起来，现在却是一片沼泽，到处都隐藏着烂掉的树根，在远处露出的地平线上，这片海洋在好几年中仍然无声地翻着泡沫。第一个礼拜日，奥雷连诺第二穿着干衣服，出门看见这个市镇的样子，感到十分惊愕。雨后活下来的那些人——全是早在香蕉公司侵入之前定居马孔多的人——都坐在街道中间，享受初露的阳光。他们的皮肤仍象水藻那样微微发绿，下雨年间渗进皮肤的储藏室霉味还没消失可是他们脸上却露出愉快的微笑，因为意识到他们土生土长的市镇重新属于他们了。辉煌的土耳其人街又成了昔日的样子，从前，那些浪迹天涯的阿拉伯人，穿着拖鞋，戴着粗大的金属耳环，拿小玩意儿交换鹦鹉，在千年的流浪之后在马孔多获得了可靠的栖身之所。现在，下雨时摆在摊子上的货品已经瓦解，陈列在商店里的货品已经发霉，柜台已被白蚁至坏，墙壁已给潮气侵蚀，可是第三代的阿拉伯人却坐在他们的祖辈坐过的地方，象祖辈一样的姿势，默不吭声，泰然自若，不受时间和自然灾害的支配，死活都象患失眠症以后那样，或者象奥雷连诺上校的三十二次战争以后那样。面对着毁了的赌桌和食品摊，面对着残存的靶场，面对着人们曾在那里圆梦和预卜未来的一片瓦砾的小街小巷，阿拉伯人依然精神饱满，这使奥雷连诺第二觉得惊异，他就用往常那种不拘礼节的口吻询问他们，他们依靠什么神秘的力量才没给洪流冲走，没给大水淹死；他从这家走到那家，一再提出这个问题，到处都遇到同样巧妙的微笑。同样沉思的目光以及同样的回答：
“我们会游泳。”
在全镇其他的居民中，仅仅佩特娜·柯特一个人还有阿拉伯人的胸怀。畜栏和马厩在她眼前倒塌了，但她没有泄气，维持了自己的家。最近一年，她一直想把奥雷连诺第二叫来，写了一张张字条给他，可他回答说，他不知道哪一天回到她的家里，但是不管怎样，他准会带着一袋金币到她家里，用它们来铺卧室的地面。那时她就冥思苦想，希望找到一种能够帮助她忍受苦命的力量，但她在心里找到的只是愤恨，一种公正的、无情的愤恨，于是她发誓要恢复情人浪费的和暴雨毁掉的财产。她的决心是那么坚定，奥雷连诺第二收到最后一张字条之后过了八个月，终于来到了佩特娜。 柯特家里，女主人脸色发青，披头散发，眼睛凹陷，皮肤长了疥疮，正在一片片纸儿上写号码，想把它们做成彩票。奥雷连诺第二不胜惊讶，默不做声地站在她面前，他是那么瘦削和拘谨，佩特娜·柯特甚至觉得，她看见的不是跟她度过了整整一生的情人，而是他的孪生兄弟。
“你疯啦，”他说。“你想用什么抽彩？难道用尸骨吗？”
于是，她要他到卧室里去看看，他看见了一匹骡子。骡子象它的女主人一样瘦骨嶙峋，但也象她一样坚定、活跃。佩特娜。 柯特拼命饲养它，再也没有干草、玉米或树根的时候，她就把它安顿在她的卧室里，让它去嚼棉布床单、波斯毯子、毛绒被子、丝绒窗帘以及主教床上的帐幔，这种帐幔是金线刺绣的，装饰了丝线做成的穗子。