hemingway, ernest - garden of eden-第32节

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now　as　his　father　had　been　for　a　long　time　and　he　had　thought；　I　did　not　believe　he　could　do　it　when　he　was　so　old　and　tired。　He　would　have　killed　Juma　too。　But　he　didn't　look　at　me　as　though　he　wanted　to　kill　me。　He　only　looked　sad　the　same　way　I　felt。　He　visited　his　old　friend　on　the　day　he　died。

It　was　a　very　young　boy's　story；　he　knew；　when　he　had　finished　it。　He　read　it　over　and　saw　the　gaps　he　must　fill　in　to　make　it　so　that　whoever　read　it　would　feel　it　was　truly　happening　as　it　was　read　and　he　marked　the　gaps　in　the　margin。

He　remembered　how　the　elephant　lost　all　dignity　as　soon　as　his　eye　had　ceased　to　be　alive　and　how　when　his　father　and　he　had　returned　with　the　packs　the　elephant　had　already　started　to　swell　even　in　the　cool　evening。　There　was　no　more　true　elephant；　only　the　gray　wrinkled　swelling　dead　body　and　the　huge　great　mottled　brown　and　yellow　tusks　that　they　had　killed　him　for。　The　tusks　were　stained　with　the　dried　blood　and　he　scraped　some　of　it　off　with　his　thumbnail　like　a　dried　piece　of　sealing　wax　and　put　it　in　the　pocket　of　his　shirt。　That　was　all　he　took　from　the　elephant　except　the　beginning　of　the　knowledge　of　loneliness。

After　the　butchery　his　father　tried　to　talk　to　him　that　night　by　the　fire。

〃He　was　a　murderer　you　know；　Davey；〃　he　had　said。　〃Juma　says　nobody　knows　how　many　people　he　has　killed。〃

〃They　were　all　trying　to　kill　him　weren't　they？〃
200　201

。　。
〃Naturally；〃　his　father　had　said；　〃with　that　pair　of　tusks。〃
〃How　could　he　be　a　murderer　then？〃

〃Just　as　you　like；〃　his　father　had　said。　〃I'm　sorry　you　got　so　mixed　up　about　him。〃

〃I　wish　he'd　killed　Juma；〃　David　had　said。

〃I　think　that's　carrying　it　a　little　far；〃　his　father　said。　〃Juma's　your　friend　you　know。〃

〃Not　anymore。

〃No　need　to　tell　him　so。〃

〃He　knows　it；〃　David　had　said。

〃I　think　you　misjudge　him；〃　his　father　said　and　they　had　left　it　there。

Then　when　they　were　finally　back　safely　with　the　tusks　after　all　the　things　that　had　happened　and　the　tusks　were　propped　against　the　wall　of　the　stick　and　mud　house　leaning　there　with　their　points　touching；　the　tusks　so　tall　and　thick　that　no　one　could　believe　them　even　when　they　touched　them　and　no　one；　not　even　his　father；　could　reach　to　the　top　of　the　bend　where　they　curved　in　for　the　points　to　meet；　there　when　Juma　and　his　father　and　he　were　heroes　and　Kibo　was　a　hero's　dog；　and　the　men　who　had　carried　the　tusks　were　heroes；　already　slightly　drunk　heroes　and　to　be　drunker；　his　father　had　said；　〃Do　you　want　to　make　peace　Davey？〃

〃All　right；〃　he　said　because　he　knew　this　was　the　start　of　the　never　telling　that　he　had　decided　on。

〃I'm　so　glad；〃　his　father　said。　〃It's　so　much　simpler　and　better。〃　Then　they　sat　on　old　men's　stools　under　the　shade　of　the　great　fig　tree　with　the　tusks　against　the　wall　of　the　hut　and　drank　native　beer　from　gourd　cups　that　were　brought　by　a　young　girl　and　her　younger　brother；　no　longer　a　detested　nuisance　but　the　servant　of　heroes；　sitting　in　the　dust　by　the　heroic　dog　of　a　hero　who　held　an　old　cockerel　newly　promoted　to　the　standing　of　the　heroes'　favorite　rooster。　They　sat　there　and　drank　beer　while　the　big　drum　started　and　the　Ngoma　began　to　build。

He　came　out　of　the　working　room　and　he　was　happy　and　empty　and　proud　and　Marita　was　waiting　for　him　on　the　terrace　sitting　in　the　sun　of　the　bright　early　fall　morning　that　he　had　not　known　existed。　It　was　a　perfect　morning；　still　and　cool。　The　sea　below　was　a　flat　calm　and　across　the　bay　was　the　white　curve　of　Cannes　with　the　dark　mountains　behind　it。

〃I　love　you　very　much；〃　he　said　to　the　dark　girl　as　she　stood　up。　He　put　his　arms　around　her　and　kissed　her　and　she　said；　〃You　finished　it。〃

〃Sure；〃　he　said。　〃Why　not？〃

〃I　love　you　and　I'm　so　proud；〃　she　said。　They　walked　out　and　looked　at　the　sea　with　their　arms　around　each　other。

〃How　are　you　girl？〃

〃I'm　very　well　and　very　happy；〃　Marita　said。　〃Did　you　mean　it　about　loving　me　or　was　it　just　the　morning？〃

〃It　was　the　morning；〃　David　said　and　kissed　her　again。

〃Can　I　read　the　story？〃

〃It's　too　lovely　a　day。〃

〃Can't　I　read　it　so　I　can　feel　like　you　do　and　not　just　happy　because　you're　happy　like　I　was　your　dog？〃

He　gave　her　the　key　and　when　she　brought　the　notebooks　and　read　the　story　at　the　bar　David　read　it　sitting　beside　her。　He　knew　it　was　ill　mannered　and　stupid。　He　had　never　done　this　before　with　anyone　and　it　was　against　everything　he　believed　about　writing　but　he　did　not　think　of　that　except　at　the　moment　when　he　put　his　arm　around　the　girl　and　looked　at　the　writing　on　the　lined　paper。　He　could　not　help　wanting　to　read　it　with　her　and　he　could　not　help　sharing　what　he　had　never　shared　and　what　he　had　believed　could　not　and　should　not　be　shared。

When　she　finished　reading　Marita　put　her　arms　around　David　and　kissed　him　so　hard　that　she　drew　blood　from　his　lip。　He　looked　at　her　and　tasted　his　blood　absentmindedly　and　smiled。

〃I'm　sorry　David；〃　she　said。　〃Please　forgive　me。　I'm　so　very　happy　and　prouder　than　you　are。
203
202
。　THE　GARDEN　OI~　EDEN


〃Is　it　all　right？〃　he　said。　〃Can　you　smell　the　shamba　smell　and　the　clean　smell　of　hut　inside　and　feel　the　smoothness　of　the　old　men　chairs？　It's　really　clean　in　the　hut　and　the　earth　floor　is　swept。〃

〃Of　course　it　is。　You　had　it　in　the　other　story。　I　can　see　the　angle　of　the　head　of　Kibo　the　heroic　dog　too。　You　were　such　a　lovely　hero。　Did　the　blood　make　a　stain　in　your　pocket？〃

〃Yes。　It　softened　when　I　sweated。〃

〃Let's　go　to　town　and　celebrate　the　day；〃　Marita　said。　〃There's　a　lot　of　things　that　we　can　do　today。〃

David　stopped　at　the　bar　and　poured　Haig　Pinch　and　then　cold　Perrier　into　a　glass　and　brought　it　with　him　to　the　room　where　he　drank　half　of　it　and　took　a　cold　shower。　Then　he　pulled　on　slacks　and　a　shirt　and　put　on　alpargatas　to　go　into　town。　He　felt　the　story　was　good　and　felt　even　better　about　Marita。　Neither　had　been　diminished　by　the　sharpening　of　perception　he　had　now；　and　clarity　had　come　with　no　sadness。

Catherine　was　doing　whatever　she　was　doing　and　would　do　whatever　she　would　do。　He　looked　out　and　felt　the　old　happy　carelessness。　It　was　a　day　for　flying　actually。　He　wished　there　was　a　field　where　he　could　rent　a　plane　and　take　Marita　up　and　show　her　what　you　could　do　with　a　day　like　this。　She　might　like　it。　But　there　isn't　any　field　here。　So　forget　that。　It　would　be　fun　though。　So　would　skiing。　That's　only　two　months　away　if　you　want　it。　Christ；　it　was　good　to　finish　today　and　have　her　there。　Marita　there　with　no　damned　jealousy　of　the　work　and　have　her　know　what　you　were　reaching　for　and　how　far　you　went。　She　really　knows　and　it's　not　faked。　I　do　love　her　and　you　make　a　note　of　it；　whiskey；　and　you　witness　it　for　me；　Perrier　old　boy　old　Perrier；　I　have　been　faithful　to　you；　Perrier；　in　my　fucking　fashion。　It　feels　very　good　when　you　feel　so　good。　It's　a　stupid　feeling　but　it　fits　on　this　day　so　put　it　on。
〃Come　on　girl；〃　he　said　to　Marita　at　the　door　of　her　room。　〃What's　holding　you　up　besides　your　beautiful　legs？〃
〃I'm　ready；　David；〃　she　said。　She　had　on　a　tight　sweater　and　slacks　and　her　face　was　shining。　She　brushed　her　dark　hair　and　looked　at　him。
〃It's　wonderful　when　you're　so　gay。
〃It's　such　a　good　day；〃　he　said。　〃And　we're　so　lucky。〃
〃Do　you　think　so？〃　she　said　as　they　walked　to　the　car。　〃Do　you　think　we're　really　lucky？〃
〃Yes；〃　he　said。　〃I　think　it　changed　this　morning　or　maybe　in　the　night。〃


204　205
Chapter　Twenty…five






CATHERINE's　CAR　was　in　the　driveway　of　the　hotel　when　they　drove　up。　It　was　parked　on　the　right　side　of　the　gravelled　approach。　David　stopped　the　Isotta　behind　it　and　he　and　Marita　got　out　and　walked　down　the　drive　past　the　small；　low　empty　blue　car　and　onto　the　flagstones　of　the　walk　without　speaking。

They　passed　David's　room　with　the　locked　door　and　the　open　windows　and　Marita　stopped　outside　of　her　door　and　said；　〃Good　bye。〃

〃What　are　you　doing　this　afternoon？〃　he　asked。

〃I　don't　know；〃　she　said。　〃I'll　be　here。〃

He　walked　on　down　to　the　patio　of　the　hotel　and　went　in　the　main　door。　Catherine　was　sitting　at　the　bar　reading　the　Paris　Herald　with　a　glass　and　half　a　bottle　of　wine　beside　her　on　the　bar。　She　looked　up　at　him。

〃What　brought　you　back？〃　she　asked。

〃VVe　had　lunch　in　town　and　came　on　up；〃　David　said。

〃How　is　your　whore？〃


209

。　。
〃I　haven't　one　yet。〃
〃I　mean　the　one　you　write　the　stories　for。〃

〃Oh。　The　stories。

〃Yes。　The　stories。　The　dreary　dismal　little　stories　about　your　adolescence　with　your　bogus　drunken　father。〃

〃He　wasn't　so　bogus　really。〃

〃Didn't　he　defraud　his　wife　and　all　his　friends？〃

〃No。　Just　himself　really。〃

〃You　certainly　make　him　despicable　in　these　last　sketches　or　vignettes　or　pointless　anecdotes　you　write　about　him。〃

〃You　mean　the　stories。〃

〃You　call　them　stories；〃　Catherine　said。

〃Yes；〃　David　said　and　poured　a　glass　of　the　lovely　cold　wine　on　the　bright　clear　day　in　the　pleasant；　sunny　room　in　the　clean；　comfortable　hotel　and；　sipping　it；　felt　it　fail　to　lift　up　his　dead　cold　heart。

〃Would　you　like　me　to　go　and　get　Heiress？〃　Catherine　said。　〃It　wouldn't　do　to　have　her　think　that　we'd　had　a　misunder　standing　about　whose　day　it　is　or　that　we'd　taken　up　solitary　drinking　toge