dclegg.purity-第4部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！

there　was　a　movement　afoot　among　the　summer　residents　to　restore　the　old　Pequot　name　for　the　place。）　The　largest　beach；　called　the　Serpentine　by　the　British　for　its　snaky　shape；　runs　the　western　length。　A　Victorian　Wedding　Cake　House　called　the　Mohegan；　converted　in　recent　years　to　a　twenty　room　hotel；　sits　perched　on　the　main　bluff　overlooking　the　most　public　part　of　the　Serpentine。　On　either　side　are　the　summer　homes　…　the　large　and　the　ordinary；　and　the　woods　all　mixed　in　and　winding　through　them。　More　than　half　the　roads　on　Outerbridge　were　still　dirt；　there　was　no　McDonald's；　no　7…11；　and　only　two　stoplights　between　the　three　townships。
　Spring　shat　out　of　winter　in　New　England　…　and　along　the　uneven　row　of　islands　called　the　Avalons　that　skirted　Connecticut；　Rhode　Island；　and　a　bare　tip　of　Massachusetts；　it　was　a　heavy　crap　of　rain　and　then　sun　and　then　rain　and　finally　sun　…　the　merciless　summer　sun　which　never　left　until　two　weeks　after　Labor　Day。　Outerbridge　had　it　the　worse；　for　the　two　other　large　Avalons　…　and　the　smaller　rocky　ledges　called　islets　that　formed　part　of　the　coastal　barrier　against　the　Atlantic　…　got　the　good　weather　first；　or　else　no　one　much　lived　there　to　care。
　Outerbridge；　the　furthest　up　the　coastline　was　more　narrow　than　wide　…　six　miles　long；　two…and…a…half　miles　wide　…　with　bluffs　to　the　south　and　north；　the　Great　Salt　Pond　at　its　center；　the　Wequetaket　swamps　in　the　lower　points　to　the　east；　there　are　two　hundred　and　fifty　three　summer　residents；　there　are　seventy…five　in　the　winter；　most　of　them　over　sixty。　At　the　height　of　winter's　cruelty；　helicopters　e　in　with　supplies。　That　sounds　outrageous；　but　it's　true；　for　Outerbridge　is　further　from　the　mainland　than　even　the　Vineyard　and　Nantucket　to　the　north　…　it　is　beyond　beyond　beyond；　and　there　is　no　crossing　easily。　The　historic　landmarks　are　South　Light　and　North　Light；　the　two　lighthouses　that　still　work；　sentries　at　either　end　of　the　island；　Old　Town；　or　Old　Town　Harbor　as　the　old…timers　call　it；　is　at　the　southern　tip；　Quonnoquet　Haven；　with　its　bluffs　and　spectacular　view　of　what　they　call　the　Big　Nothing；　where　even　the　mainland　is　unseen　in　the　distance；　lays　to　the　north　of　the　island　This　particular　day　was　the　glinting　kind。　Sun　glinted　off　the　Sound；　and　even　the　virgin　leaves　on　the　wet　trees　…　and　the　bark；　too　…　all　of　it　spattered　light　refracted　through　the　hangover　of　the　night　of　rain　so　recently　over。　He　hated　it　…　he　hated　the　end　of　winter；　because　it　was　usually　the　end　of　control　within　his　parents　house。　His　mother　had　been　in　bed　for　most　of　it；　nursing　imagined　traumas；　while　his　father　had　spent　his　hours　away　from　home；　either　working　as　a　handyman　and　gardener　at　the　Big　House；　or　in　town　or　down　to　Old　Town　Harbor　for　drinks　with　his　friends。
　Owen　Crites　looked　to　summer　for　one　thing；　and　one　thing　only。　It　would　be　the　arrival　of　Jenna　Montgomery；　and　that　would　mean　that　his　misery；　his　feeling　of　loneliness　would　vanish。
　It　was　a　singular　obsession　of　his。
　She　was　purity。
　2
　〃Hi；〃　he　said　to　her　when　he　was　six。
　〃Hi；〃　she　replied。　But　she　hadn't　needed　to。　She　was　six　and　all　ringlets　and　ribbons　and　party　dress。
　〃Owen；〃　he　said。
　〃I　know。　Hank's　your　daddy。〃
　The　fact　that　she　called　his　father　by　his　first　name　shocked　Owen。　No　other　child　called　a　parent　by　the　first　name。　It　was　taboo。　And　to　call　his　father　〃Hank〃　and　not　〃Henry〃　seemed　far　too　familiar。
　〃I　know　where　you　live；〃　she　added；　an　afterthought。
　〃Here；〃　he　said；　meaning　her　property。
　〃In　my　yard；〃　she　said。　〃You　have　the　big　goldfish　pond。〃
　〃Koi；〃　he　corrected　her。
　〃And　all　the　roses　my　mommy　loves；〃　she　said；　and　then　took　him　by　the　hand　and　brought　him　into　her　world　…　the　birthday　party；　the　children　from　New　York；　the　pony　rides　on　the　bluffs；　the　smoked　turkey　sandwiches；　the　games　of　pin…the…tail；　and　the　dance。　He　had　been　woefully　under…　dressed　in　a　torn　pair　of　jeans　and　a　t…shirt。　The　other　boys　all　wore　white　shirts　and　little　ties；　their　hair　glistened　with　gel。　The　girls　were　in　puffy　dresses　and　glittery　shoes。　He　had　no　gift　for　her　then。　It　had　panicked　him　midway　through　the　party。
　He　went　and　found　a　gift　she　had　not　yet　unwrapped；　and　he　threw　away　the　other　child's　card。　On　the　wrapping　paper；　he　scrawled　…　Hapy　Birthday　from　Owen。　As　it　turned　out；　the　gift　was　a　small　hand　puppet；　and　Owen　took　it　from　Jenna　and　began　doing　something　that　he　didn't　even　know　he　could　do。
　He　threw　his　voice；　so　it　sounded　as　if　the　puppet　were　speaking　without　Owen's　lips　moving。
　When　it　was　found　out　what　he　had　done；　he　was　punished；　but　even　Mrs。　M　mented　to　Owen's　mother　about　her　son's　delightful　talent。
　But　forget　that　for　now；　forget　it。　Years　passed；　punishment　was　the　result　of　knowledge。　Smart　people　punished　themselves；　his　older　self　knew。　All　people　with　brains　received　punishment。
　He　knew　better　than　to　reveal　secrets。
　He　waited　for　her；　watching　the　Sound　for　the　ferry　on　the　Thursday　before　Memorial　Day　weekend。
　3
　His　eyes　turned　to　slits　against　the　western　sun；　it　was　the　last　ferry　of　the　day；　and　he　couldn't　find　her　or　her　parents　among　those　on　the　deck。
　Perhaps　she　wouldn't　be　ing　until　after　the　holiday　…　it　had　happened　before；　but　several　years　back。　He　didn't　want　to　believe　it　because　he　never　liked　to　consider　the　options　that　people　had。　His　own　life　felt　without　option。
　He　had　created　within　himself　the　person　who　could　most　handle　his　life。　He　had　worked　his　body；　developed　the　grace　of　an　athlete；　he　had　tried　to　keep　his　face　pleasant　…　and　when　the　anxieties　of　his　family　or　of　studies　became　unbearable；　he　would　go　to　the　mirror　and　practice　relaxing　his　facial　features　until　he　was　sure　he　looked　pleasant　again。　He　did　not　want　to　seem　anxious；　even　if　he　was。　He　wanted　to　give　nothing　away　to　those　around　him。
　He　ran　down　to　the　docks　to　see　if　she　might　be　somewhere　else　on　the　ferry　…　perhaps　she　was　sick　and　wanted　to　stay　below。　Perhaps　she　was　taking　a　nap　in　the　back　seat　of　her　family's　Range　Rover。　Perhaps　perhaps；　he　repeated　to　himself　as　he　sloughed　off　inertia；　and　jogged　down　to　the　paved　road　near　the　marina。
　The　summer　people　were　like　ticks　…　they　attached　themselves　to　every　aspect　of　the　Haven；　they　drank　all　the　beer；　they　ate　the　best　the　local　cooks　had　to　offer；　they　had　all　the　accidents　…　more　people　would　die　from　boating　or　swimming　mishaps　in　three　months　than　would　die　in　six　years　in　the　other　seasons　of　the　island。
　They　were　careless；　they　were　bloodsucking；　they　were　here　to　forget　the　venal　world　from　which　they　came。
　They；　he　thought。
　They。
　They　poured　from　the　ferry；　bicyclists；　clownish　men　and　women　in　golfing　outfits；　or　overly　gilded　women　with　poodles　and　wolfhounds　and　Shih　Tzus；　followed　by　weary　overworked　doctor…husbands；　the　college　crowd；　too；　had　begun　filling　up　the　local　bars　and　the　beach；　and　all　these　he　hated　with　a　passion。　He　had　spent　his　life　watching　them　e　and　be　carefree　in　the　summer。　He　had　watched　them　spend　more　money　some　nights　than　his　father　could　make　in　a　month。
　Dagon；　he　prayed；　Dagon；　hear　me。　Cast　them　down。　Raise　me　up。
　He　ached　for　what　they　had。　The　lives　they　had。　The　freedom　from　this　island。　From　the　world　he　had　mastered。
　He　read　books　on　Manhattan；　he　learned　about　Jenna's　family；　how　her　great…great…grandfather　had　worked　on　railroads　and　then　had　gone　on　to　own　them；　and　how　her　great…grandfather　had　lost　that　fortune；　how　her　grandfather　had　gotten　into　radio　and　television　and　magazines；　owning　several；　selling　them；　building　up　a　small　but　substantial　media　empire；　how　her　mother　had　continued　that　work；　married　a　great　media　magnate；　divorced；　married　again；　had　Jenna　and　remained　with　Mr。　M　although　the　marriage　ran　hot　and　cold。
　The　story　of　Jenna's　family　was　the　story　of　all　the　summer　people；　and　though　they　lived　simply　on　the　island　for　the　three　months；　though　they　rode　cheap　bikes　around　the　Great　Salt　Pond；　though　they　dressed　casually　even　for　the　one　restaurant　in　Old　Town　Harbor　（the　Salty　Dog）；　they　were　all　overmoneyed　as　his　father　often　said。
　His　father　spoke　of　money　as　evil；　his　mother　spoke　of　it　like　a　lost　child。
　Owen　felt　it　was　something　like　fire　…　to　be　feared　and　mastered。　It　was　what　other　people　were　given。
　It's　what　he　would　be　granted。
　And　these　people　tromping　off　the　ferry　had　it。　They　lived　it。　They　did　not　dream　of　getting　off　this　island。　They　dreamed　of　things　beyond　what　Owen　could　imagine。
　4
　She　never　arrived；　and　he　walked　the　long　narrow　wooden　staircase　from　the　beach　up　to　the　bluffs；　and　then　he　ran　along　the　fringe　of　pines　to　the　dirt　path　that　went　further　up　the　rolling　cliffs；　and　he　didn't　look　back　down　to　the　water　until　he　was　at　their　property。
　At　the　house；　he　went　and　sat　in　one　of　the　wrought…iron　lawn　chairs　and　leaned　back　to　gaze　up　at　the　sky。
　〃Owen？〃
　He　sat　up；　looking　around。　He　rose　from　the　chair；　practically　knocking　it　over；　and　there　she　was　…　at　the　third　story　attic　window。
　No；　it　was　Mrs。　M。　Her　auburn　hair　was　swept　back　from　her　face；　damp　from　the　swimming　pool；　her　robe　fastened　none　too　tight。　She　possessed　the　air　of　ha