诺贝尔文学经典:《宠儿》第3章Part 1

RAINWATER held on to pine needles for dear life and Beloved could not take her eyes off Sethe.
Stooping to shake the damper, or snapping sticks for kindlin, Sethe was licked, tasted, eaten byBeloved's eyes. Like a familiar, she hovered, never leaving the room Sethe was in unless requiredand told to. She rose early in the dark to be there, waiting, in the kitchen when Sethe came down tomake fast bread before she left for work. In lamplight, and over the flames of the cooking stove,their two shadows clashed and crossed on the ceiling like black swords. She was in the window attwo when Sethe returned, or the doorway; then the porch, its steps, the path, the road, till finally,surrendering to the habit, Beloved began inching down Bluestone Road further and further eachday to meet Sethe and walk her back to 124. It was as though every afternoon she doubted anewthe older woman's return.
Sethe was flattered by Beloved's open, quiet devotion. The same adoration from her daughter (hadit been forthcoming) would have annoyed her; made her chill at the thought of having raised aridiculously dependent child. But the company of this sweet, if peculiar, guest pleased her the waya zealot pleases his teacher.
Time came when lamps had to be lit early because night arrived sooner and sooner. Sethe wasleaving for work in the dark; Paul D was walking home in it. On one such evening dark and cool,Sethe cut a rutabaga into four pieces and left them stewing. She gave Denver a half peck of peas tosort and soak overnight. Then she sat herself down to rest. The heat of the stove made her drowsyand she was sliding into sleep when she felt Beloved touch her. A touch no heavier than a featherbut loaded, nevertheless, with desire. Sethe stirred and looked around. First at Beloved's soft newhand on her shoulder, then into her eyes. The longing she saw there was bottomless. Some pleabarely in control. Sethe patted Beloved's fingers and glanced at Denver, whose eyes were fixed onher pea-sorting task.

雨水死死抓住松针，而宠儿的眼睛一时一刻也不离开塞丝。
无论是哈腰推动风门，还是劈劈啪啪地生炉子，塞丝始终被宠儿的眼睛舔着、尝着、咀嚼着。她像一位常客似的泡在塞丝去的每间屋子，不要求、不命令的话从不离开。她一大早就摸黑起来，到厨房里等着塞丝在上班之前下楼来做快餐面包。灯光下，炉火旁，她们两人的身影像黑剑一般在棚顶上相互撞击和交错。塞丝两点钟回家时，她总在窗口或者门口等着；然后是门廊、台阶、小路、大路，直到最后，习惯愈演愈烈，宠儿开始每天在蓝石路上一英寸一英寸地越走越远，去迎塞丝，再同她一道走回124号。仿佛每天下午她都要对那位年长的女人的归来重新置疑一番。
宠儿坦率、无声的忠诚让塞丝受宠若惊。同样的崇拜如果来自她的女儿（说来就来），是会让她厌烦的；一想到自己养出一个可笑的、依赖性强的孩子，她就不寒而栗。可是有这样一个甜蜜、也许还有点特别的客人相伴，她十分满意，这情形就仿佛一个狂热的徒弟很讨他老师的欢心。
渐渐地，灯点得早了，因为夜幕降临得越来越早。塞丝摸黑去上班；保罗·D天黑才回家。在这样一个又黑又凉的傍晚，塞丝把一块卷心菜切成四份炖上。她让丹芙剥半配克豌豆，泡上一夜。然后她坐下来休息。炉子的热气使她犯困，她刚昏昏欲睡，就感觉到宠儿在碰她。比羽毛还轻的触摸，却满载着欲望。塞丝动了动，四下打量。先看看肩上宠儿那只娇嫩的手，再看看她的眼睛。她从那里看到的渴望是无底的深渊。某种勉强抑制住的恳求。塞丝拍拍宠儿的手指，瞟了一眼丹芙，她正专心地剥着豌豆。