获得诺贝尔文学 诺贝尔文学经典:《宠儿》第8章Part 1

诺贝尔文学经典:《宠儿》第8章Part 1  

OUT OF SIGHT of Mister's sight
away
praise His name
from the smiling boss of roosters
PaulD began to tremble. Not all at once and not so anyone could tell. When he turned his head
aimingfor a last look at Brother
turned it as much as the rope that connected his neck to the axle of abuckboard allowed
and
later on
when they fastened the iron around his ankles and clamped thewrists as well
there was no ouard sign of trembling at all. Nor eighteen days after that when hesaw the ditches; the one thousand feet of earth — five feet deep
five feet wide
into which woodenboxes had been fitted. A door of bars that you could lift on hinges like a cage opened into threewalls and a roof of scrap lumber and red dirt. Two feet of it over his head; three feet of open trenchin front of him with anything that crawled or scurried wele to share that grave calling itselfquarters. And there were forty-five more. He was sent there after trying to kill Brandywine
theman schoolteacher sold him to. Brandywine was leading him
in a coffle with ten others
throughKentucky into Virginia. He didn't know exactly what prompted him to try — other than Halle
Sixo
Paul A
Paul F and Mister. But the trembling was fixed by the time he knew it was there.
Still no one else knew it
because it began inside. A flutter of a kind
in the chest
then the shoulderblades. It felt like rippling — gentle at first and then wild. As though the further south they led himthe more his blood
frozen like an ice pond for enty years
began thawing
breaking into piecesthat
once melted
had no choice but to swirl and eddy. Sometimes it was in his leg. Then again itmoved to the base of his spine. By the time they unhitched him from the wagon and he sawnothing but dogs and o shacks in a world of sizzling grass
the roiling blood was shaking him toand fro. But no one could tell. The wrists he held out for the bracelets that evening were steady aswere the legs he stood on when chains were attached to the leg irons. But when they shoved himinto the box and dropped the cage door down
his hands quit taking instruction. On their own
theytraveled. Nothing could stop them or get their attention. They would not hold his penis to urinateor a spoon to scoop lumps of lima beans intohis mouth. The miracle of their obedience came withthe hammer at dawn.
All forty-six men woke to rifle shot. All forty-six. Three whitemen walked along the trenchunlocking the doors one by one. No one stepped through. When the last lock was opened
the threereturned and lifted the bars
one by one. And one by one the blackmen emerged — promptly and without the poke of a rifle butt if they had been there more than a day; promptly with the butt if
like Paul D
they had just arrived. When all forty-six were standing in a line in the trench
anotherrifle shot signaled the climb out and up to the ground above
where one thousand feet of the besthand-fed chain in Geia stretched. Each man bent and waited. The first man picked up theend and threaded it through the loop on his leg iron. He stood up then
and
shuffling a little
brought the chain tip to the next prisoner
who did likewise. As the chain was passed on and eachman stood in the other's place
the line of men turned around
facing the boxes they had e outof. Not one spoke to the other. At least not with words. The eyes had to tell what there was to tell:
"Help me this morning 's bad"; "I'm a make it"; "New man"; "Steady now steady."
Chain-up pleted
they knelt down. The dew
more likely than not
was mist by then. Heavysometimes and if the dogs were quiet and just breathing you could hear doves. Kneeling in the mistthey waited for the whim of a guard
or o
or three. Or maybe all of them wanted it. Wanted itfrom one prisoner in particular or none — or all.
"Breakfast? Want some breakfast
nigger?"
"Yes
sir."
"Hungry
nigger?"
"Yes
sir."
"Here you go."