白噪音(White Noise) (英文版)作者:唐·德里罗(Don DeLillo)-第26章

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　　I　depend　on　my　children　for　that。
　　I　sat　a　while　longer；　watching　Denise；　watching　Wilder；　feeling　selfless　and　spiritually　large。　There　was　an　empty　air　mattress　on　the　floor　but　I　wanted　to　share　Babette's　and　eased　myself　next　to　her　body；　a　dreaming　mound。　Her　hands；　feet　and　face　were　drawn　under　the　sheltering　coat；　only　a　burst　of　hair　remained。　I　fell　at　once　into　marine　oblivion；　a　deep…dwelling　crablike　consciousness；　silent　and　dreamless。
　　It　seemed　only　minutes　later　that　I　was　surrounded　by　noise　and　motion。　I　opened　my　eyes　to　find　Denise　pounding　on　my　arms　and　shoulders。　When　she　saw　I　was　awake；　she　began　battering　her　mother。　All　around　us；　people　were　dressing　and　packing。　The　major　noise　issued　from　sirens　in　the　ambulettes　outside。　A　voice　was　instructing　us　through　a　bullhorn。　In　the　distance　I　heard　a　clanging　bell　and　then　a　series　of　automobile　horns；　the　first　of　what　would　bee　a　universal　bleat；　a　herd…panic　of　terrible　wailing　proportions　as　vehicles　of　all　sizes　and　types　tried　to　reach　the　parkway　in　the　quickest　possible　time。
　　I　managed　to　sit　up。　Both　girls　were　trying　to　rouse　Babette。　The　room　was　emptying　out。　I　saw　Heinrich　staring　down　at　me；　an　enigmatic　grin　on　his　face。　The　amplified　voice　said：　〃Wind　change；　wind　change。　Cloud　has　changed　direction。　Toxic；　toxic；　heading　here。〃。
　　Babette　turned　over　on　the　mattress；　sighing　contentedly。　〃Five　more　minutes；　〃she　said。　The　girls　rained　blows　on　her　head　and　arms。
　　I　got　to　my　feet；　looked　around　for　a　men's　room。　Wilder　was　dressed；　eating　a　cookie　while　he　waited。　Again　the　voice　spoke；　like　singsong　patter　on　a　department…store　loudspeaker；　amid　the　perfumed　counters　and　chiming　bells：　〃Toxic；　toxic。　Proceed　to　your　vehicle；　proceed　to　your　vehicle。〃
　　Denise；　who　was　clutching　her　mother　by　the　wrist；　flung　the　entire　arm　down　on　the　mattress。　〃Why　does　he　have　to　say　everything　twice？　We　get　it　the　first　time。　He　just　wants　to　hear　himself　talk。〃
　　They　got　Babette　up　on　all　fours。　I　hurried　off　to　the　toilet。　I　had　my　toothpaste　but　couldn't　find　the　brush。　I　spread　some　paste　on　my　index　finger　and　ran　the　finger　across　my　teeth。　When　I　got　back；　they　were　dressed　and　ready；　heading　for　the　exit。　A　woman　with　an　armband　handed　out　masks　at　the　door；　gauzy　white　surgical　masks　that　covered　the　nose　and　mouth。　We　took　six　and　went　outside。
　　It　was　still　dark。　A　heavy　rain　fell。　Before　us　lay　a　scene　of　panoramic　disorder。　Cars　trapped　in　mud；　cars　stalled；　cars　crawling　along　the　one…lane　escape　route；　cars　taking　shortcuts　through　the　woods；　cars　hemmed　in　by　trees；　boulders；　other　cars。　Sirens　called　and　faded；　horns　blared　in　desperation　and　protest。　There　were　running　men；　tents　wind…blown　into　trees；　whole　families　abandoning　their　vehicles　to　head　on　foot　for　the　parkway。　From　deep　in　the　woods　we　heard　motorcycles　revving；　voices　raising　incoherent　cries。　It　was　like　the　fall　of　a　colonial　capital　to　dedicated　rebels。　A　great　surging　drama　with　elements　of　humiliation　and　guilt。
　　We　put　on　our　masks　and　ran　through　the　downpour　to　our　car。　Not　ten　yards　away　a　group　of　men　proceeded　calmly　to　a　Land…Rover。　They　resembled　instructors　in　jungle　warfare；　men　with　lean　frames　and　long　boxy　heads。　They　drove　straight　into　dense　underbrush；　not　only　away　from　the　dirt　road　but　away　from　all　the　other　cars　attempting　shortcuts。　Their　bumper　sticker　read　GUN　CONTROL　IS　MIND　CONTROL。　In　situations　like　this；　you　want　to　stick　close　to　people　in　right…wing　fringe　groups。　They've　practiced　staying　alive。　I　followed　with　some　difficulty；　our　smallish　wagon　jouncing　badly　in　brush　tangles；　up　inclines；　over　hidden　stones。　Inside　five　minutes　the　Land…Rover　was　out　of　sight。
　　Rain　turned　to　sleet；　sleet　to　snow。
　　I　saw　a　line　of　headlights　far　to　the　right　and　drove　fifty　yards　through　a　gulley　in　that　direction；　the　car　heeled　like　a　toboggan。　We　did　not　seem　to　be　getting　closer　to　the　lights。　Babette　turned　on　the　radio　and　we　were　told　that　the　Boy　Scout　camp　evacuees　were　to　head　for　Iron　City；　where　arrangements　were　being　made　to　provide　food　and　shelter。　We　heard　horns　blowing　and　thought　it　was　a　reaction　to　the　radio　announcement　but　they　continued　in　a　rapid　and　urgent　cadence；　conveying　through　the　stormy　night　a　sense　of　animal　fear　and　warning。
　　Then　we　heard　the　rotors。　Through　the　stark　trees　we　saw　it；　the　immense　toxic　cloud；　lighted　now　by　eighteen　choppers—　immense　almost　beyond　prehension；　beyond　legend　and　rumor；　a　roiling　bloated　slug…shaped　mass。　It　seemed　to　be　generating　its　own　inner　storms。　There　were　cracklings　and　sputterings；　flashes　of　light；　long　looping　streaks　of　chemical　flame。　The　car　horns　blared　and　moaned。　The　helicopters　throbbed　like　giant　appliances。　We　sat　in　the　car；　in　the　snowy　woods；　saying　nothing。　The　great　cloud；　beyond　its　turbulent　core；　was　silver…tipped　in　the　spotlights。　It　moved　horribly　and　sluglike　through　the　night；　the　choppers　seeming　to　putter　ineffectually　around　its　edges。　In　its　tremendous　size；　its　dark　and　bulky　menace；　its　escorting　aircraft；　the　cloud　resembled　a　national　promotion　for　death；　a　multimillion…dollar　campaign　backed　by　radio　spots；　heavy　print　and　billboard；　TV　saturation。　There　was　a　high…tension　discharge　of　vivid　light。　The　horn…blowing　increased　in　volume。
　　I　recalled　with　a　shock　that　I　was　technically　dead。　The　interview　with　the　SIMUVAC　technician　came　back　to　me　in　terrible　detail。　I　felt　sick　on　several　levels。
　　There　was　nothing　to　do　but　try　to　get　the　family　to　safety。　I　kept　pushing　toward　the　headlights；　the　sound　of　blowing　horns。　Wilder　was　asleep；　planing　in　uniform　spaces。　I　hit　the　accelerator；　jerked　the　wheel；　arm…wrestled　the　car　through　a　stand　of　white　pine。
　　Through　his　mask　Heinrich　said；　〃Did　you　ever　really　look　at　your　eye？〃
　　〃What　do　you　mean？〃　Denise　said；　showing　immediate　interest；　as　though　we　were　lazing　away　a　midsummer　day　on　the　front　porch。
　　〃Your　own　eye。　Do　you　know　which　part　is　which？〃
　　〃You　mean　like　the　iris；　the　pupil？〃
　　〃Those　are　the　publicized　parts。　What　about　the　vitreous　body？　What　about　the　lens？　The　lens　is　tricky。　How　many　people　even　know　they　have　a　lens？　They　think　'lens'　must　be　'camera。'〃
　　〃What　about　the　ear？〃　Denise　said　in　a　muffled　voice。
　　〃If　the　eye　is　a　mystery；　totally　forget　the　ear。　Just　say　'cochlea'　to　somebody；　they　look　at　you　like；　'Who's　this　guy？'　There's　this　whole　world　right　inside　our　own　body。〃
　　〃Nobody　even　cares；〃　she　said。
　　〃How　can　people　live　their　whole　lives　without　knowing　the　names　of　their　own　parts　of　the　body？〃
　　〃What　about　the　glands？〃　she　said。
　　〃Animal　glands　you　can　eat。　The　Arabs　eat　glands。〃
　　〃The　French　eat　glands；〃　Babette　said　through　gauze。　'The　Arabs　eat　eyes；　speaking　of　eyes。〃
　　〃What　parts？〃　Denise　said。
　　'The　whole　eye。　The　sheep　eye。〃
　　'They　don't　eat　the　lashes；〃　Heinrich　said。
　　〃Do　sheep　have　lashes？〃　Steffie　said。
　　〃Ask　your　father；〃　Babette　said。
　　The　car　forded　a　creek　which　I　didn't　know　was　there　until　we　were　in　it。　I　struggled　to　get　us　over　the　opposite　bank。　Snow　fell　thickly　through　the　high　beams。　The　muffled　dialogue　went　on。　I　reflected　that　our　current　predicament　seemed　to　be　of　merely　glancing　interest　to　some　of　us。　I　wanted　them　to　pay　attention　to　the　toxic　event。　I　wanted　to　be　appreciated　for　my　efforts　in　getting　us　to　the　parkway。　I　thought　of　telling　them　about　the　puter　tally；　the　time…factored　death　I　carried　in　my　chromosomes　and　blood。　Self…pity　oozed　through　my　soul。　I　tried　to　relax　and　enjoy　it。
　　〃I'll　give　anybody　in　this　car　five　dollars；〃　Heinrich　said　through　his　protective　mask；　〃if　you　can　tell　me　whether　more　people　died　building　the　pyramids　in　Egypt　or　building　the　Great　Wall　of　China—and　you　have　to　say　how　many　died　in　each　place；　within　fifty　people。〃
　　I　followed　three　snowmobiles　across　an　open　field。　They　conveyed　a　mood　of　clever　fun。　The　toxic　event　was　still　in　view；　chemical　tracers　shooting　in　slow　arcs　out　of　its　interior。　We　passed　families　on　foot；　saw　a　line　of　paired　red　lights　winding　through　the　dark。　When　we　edged　out　of　the　woods；　people　in　other　cars　gave　us　sleepy　looks。　It　took　ninety　minutes　to　reach　the　parkway；　another　thirty　to　get　to　the　cloverleaf；　where　we　spun　off　toward　Iron　City。　It　was　here　that　we　met　up　with　the　group　from　the　Kung　Fu　Palace。　Tooting　horns；　waving　children。　Like　wagon　trains　converging　on　the　Santa　Fe　Trail。　The　cloud　still　hung　in　the　rearview　mirror。
　　Krylon；　Rust…Oleum；　Red　Devil。
　　We　reached　Iron　City　at　dawn。　There　were　checkpoints　at　all　the　road　exits。　State　troopers　and　Red　Cross　workers　handed　out　mimeographed　instructions　concerning　evacuation　centers。　Half　an　hour　later　we　found　ourselves；　with　forty　other　families；　in　an　abandoned　karate　studio　on　the　top　floor　of　a　four…story　building　on　the　main　street。　There　were　no　beds　or　chairs。　Steffie　refused　to　take　off　her　mask。
　　By　nine　a。m。　we　had　a　supply　of　air　mattresses；　some　food　and　coffee。　Through　the　dusty　windows　we　saw　a　group　of　turbaned　schoolchildren；　members　of　the　local　Sikh　munity；　standing　in　the　street　with　a　hand…lettered　sign：　IRON　CITY　WELES　AREA　EVACUEES。　We　were　not　allowed　to　leave　the　building。
　　On　the　wall　of　the　studio　there　were　poster…size　illustrations　of　the　six　striking　surfaces　of　the　human　hand。
　　At　noon　a　rumor　swept　the　city。　Technicians　were　being　lowered　in　slings　from　army　helicopters　in　order　to　plant　microorganisms　in　the　core　of　the　toxic　cloud。　These　organisms　were　genetic　rebinations　that　had　a　built…in　appetite　for　the　particular　toxic　agents　in　Nyodene　D。　They　would　literally　consume　the　billowing　cloud；　eat　it　up；　break　it　down；　depose　it。
　　This　stunning　innovation；　so　similar　in　nature　to　something　we　might　e　across　in　the　National　Enquirer　or　the　Star；　made　us　feel　a　little　weary；　glutted　in　an　insubstantial　way；　as　after　a　junk　food　spree。　I　wandered　through　the　room；　as　I'd　done　in　the　Boy　Scout　barracks；　moving　from　one　conversational　knot　to　another。　No　one　seemed　to　know　how　a　group　of　microorganisms　could　consume　enough　toxic　material　to　rid　the　sky　of　such　a　dense　and　enormous　cloud。　No　one　knew　what　would　happen　to　the　toxic　waste　once　it　was　eaten　or　to　the　microorganisms　once　they　were　finished　eating。
　　Everywhere　in　the　room　children　were　striking　mock　karate　poses。　When　I　got　back　to　our　area；　Babette　sat　alone　in　a　scarf　and　knitted　cap。
　　〃I　don't　like　this　latest　rumor；〃　she　said。
　　〃Too　far…fetched？　You　think　there's　no　chance　a　bunch　of　organisms　can　eat　their　way　through　the　toxic　event。〃
　　〃I　think　there's　every　chance　in　the　world。　I　don't　doubt　for　a　minute　they　have　these　little　organisms　packaged　in　cardboard　with　plastic　see…through　bubbles；　like　ballpoint　refills。　That's　what　worries　me。〃
　　〃The　very　existence　of　custom…made　organisms。〃
　　'The　very　idea；　the　very　existence；　the　wondrous　ingenuity。　On　the　one　hand　I　definitely　admire　it。　Just　to　think　there　are　people　out　there　who　can　conjure　such　things。　A　cloud…eating　microbe　or　whatever。　There　is　just　no　end　of　surprise。　All　the　amazement　that's　left　in　the　world　is　microscopic。　But　I　can　live　with　that。　What　scares