書(shū)蟲(chóng)5級(jí)《園會(huì)》女店主

The woman at the store

All that day the heat was terrible. The wind blew close to the ground, lifting the white dust from the road and driving it into our faces. The horses moved wearily, half-blinded by the dust. The pack-horse was sick—with a big sore place on her back. She kept stopping, looking too tired to go on. Hundreds of birds screamed high overhead. There was nothing to see except mile after mile of coarse grass, with the occasional purple flower or grey-green bush.

Jo rode ahead. He wore a blue shirt and a white handkerchief round his neck, with a red pattern that looked like bloodstains on it. For once, he was not singing,

I don't care, for don't you see,

My wife's mother was in front of me!'

He had sung it every day for a month; now we felt lost without it.

Jim rode beside me, white-faced. He kept licking his dry lips. We had not spoken much since dawn.

My stomach needs some real food inside it,' said Jo. 'Now, Jim, where's this store you keep talking about? You say you know a fine store with a paddock for the horses, and a creek, and a friend of yours waiting there with a bottle of whisky to share. I'd like to see that place, I really would...'

Jim laughed. 'Don't forget, Jo, there's a woman, too, with blue eyes and yellow hair, and something else to share with you. Don't forget that!'

The heat's making you crazy,' said Jo. We rode on. I fell half asleep, and dreamed that I was back home with my mother. I woke up to find that we were arriving somewhere.

We were on a hill, and below us there was a building with an iron roof. It stood in a garden; there was a paddock, a creek and some trees. Smoke rose from the chimney, and as I looked, a woman came out, followed by a child and a yellow sheep dog.

The horses found a final burst of speed, and Jo began singing, 'I don't care, for don't you see...'

The sun came through the clouds and shone on the woman's yellow hair and on the gun she was carrying. The child hid behind her, as we got off our horses, and the yellow dog ran into the building.

Hallo!' screamed the woman. 'The kid said there were three brown things coming over the hill. I ran out quick, I can tell you, to see what it was.'

Where's your old man?' asked Jim.

The woman looked away, frowning. 'Gone shearing. Been away a month. You going to stop here? There's a storm coming.'

Of course we are,' said Jo. 'So you're on your own, are you?'

She stood, looking from one to the other of us, like a hungry bird. I smiled to myself at the way the men had joked about her. Certainly she had blue eyes and yellow hair, but she was so ugly! Her hands were rough and red, and her stick-like legs were pushed into a pair of dirty old boots.

I'll put the horses in the paddock,' said Jim. 'Got any horse medicine? One of them's got a sore back.'

Wait a second.' The woman breathed deeply. Then she shouted violently, 'You can't stop here! You've got to go. I've got nothing for you! '

God help us!' said Jo heavily. He pulled me to one side. 'Gone crazy,' he said. 'On her own too much, if you know what I mean. Show some sympathy, and she'll change her mind.'

But there was no need for sympathy. She changed her mind anyway. 'Stay if you like,' she said. Then she turned to me. 'Come on—I'll give you the medicine for the horse.'

We went up the garden path. The yellow dog lay across the door, and she kicked it out of the way.

The place isn't tidy. Had no time.Been ironing. Come in.'

It was a large room. The walls were covered in pictures cut from magazines. There was a table, some broken chairs, a pile of clothes she had been ironing. A door led into the store; through another door I saw the bedroom.

She left me there and went into the store for the medicine. I could hear her talking to herself. 'Now where did I put that bottle?' Down in the paddock Jo was singing, while Jim put up the tent. The sun was going down. There are no long evenings in our New Zealand days; the sun goes down and half an hour later it's night.

Sitting alone in that ugly room, I felt afraid. The woman was a long time. What was she doing in there? 'What a life!' I thought. 'Imagine living here all alone with that child and that dog. Mad? Of course she's mad! I wonder how long she's been here—I wonder if she'll talk to me.'

What was it you wanted?' she shouted from the store.

Some medicine for the horse.'

Oh, I forgot what I was looking for. I've got it now.'

She came out and gave me a bottle.

My, you look tired, you do. Shall I make you a few scones for supper? I've got some meat you can have, too.'

All right.' I smiled at her. 'Bring the kid down to the paddock and eat with us.'

Oh, no,' she said, shaking her head. 'I'll send the kid down with the food and some milk. Want some scones to take with you tomorrow?'

Thanks.'

She came and stood by the door.

How old is the kid?' I asked.

Six next Christmas.Had a lot of trouble with her. Always sick when she was a baby, she was.'

She doesn't look much like you. Is she like her father?' I asked.

No!' she shouted. 'She's like me. Any fool could see that!'

I went down to the paddock and gave Jim the medicine for the sick horse. Jo had washed. He was combing his wet hair, smiling to himself.

I went to the end of the paddock, past the trees, and washed in the creek. The water was clear and soft as oil. I lay in the water and looked up at the trees. The air smelled of rain.

When I got back to the tent, Jim was lying by the fire. I asked him where Jo was.

Didn't you see how he'd cleaned himself up?' said Jim. 'He said to me before he went off to find her, "She isn't much, but she's a woman. She'll look good enough in the dark!"'

You told us she was pretty,' I said. 'That wasn't exactly true!'

No, listen,' Jim said. 'I don't understand what's happened to her. I haven't been here for four years. I used to know the husband well. A fine, big fellow. And she worked in bars on the West Coast—she was as pretty as a doll. Told me once she knew a hundred and twenty-five different ways of kissing!'

Oh, Jim, she can't be the same woman!'

Of course she is. I can't understand it. I think the old man's gone off and left her. That's just a lie about shearing!'

Through the dark we saw the kid coming towards us with a basket of food and some milk. I took them from her.

Come here,' Jim said to her.

She went to him. She was a tiny, thin kid, with white hair and weak, pale blue eyes.

What do you do all day?' asked Jim.

She stuck one finger in her ear. 'Draw.'

What do you draw? Leave your ear alone!'

Pictures.'

What of? Cows and sheep?'

Everything. I'll draw you when you're gone, and your horses and the tent, and that one' —she pointed at me— 'with no clothes on in the creek. I saw her but she couldn't see me.'

Thanks a lot. How nice of you,' said Jim. 'Where's your Dad?'

I won't tell you,' the kid said. 'I don't like your face.' She stuck a finger in the other ear.

Here,' I said. 'Take the basket and go and tell the other man that supper's ready.'

She ran off and we started eating. We had finished before Jo arrived. He was very red-faced and cheerful, and he had a whisky bottle in his hand.

Have a drink, you two,' he shouted. 'She wants us all to go and drink with her tonight.' He waved one hand in the air. 'We're good friends, her and me.'

I can believe that!' laughed Jim. 'But did she tell you where her old man's gone?'

Jo looked up. 'Shearing,' he said. 'You heard her, you fool.'

*　　*　　*

The woman had tidied the room. She had even put flowers on the table, beside the oil lamp, the glasses and the whisky bottle. The kid was drawing on a piece of wrapping paper.

The woman's hair hung loose. Her face was pink and her eyes shone. She sat with her feet touching Jo's under the table. In the hot room, with insects flying round the lamp, we all got slowly drunk.

The woman was shouting. 'Six years I've been here,' she told us, 'and it's broken me, living here. I told him, it's broken me, taken away everything I had. Left me with this kid and nothing else. Trouble is,' she went on, 'he left me alone too much. He'd go off for weeks, leave me all alone here. He'd never stay long.'

Ma,' said the kid, 'I drew a picture of them on the hill, and you and me and the dog.'

Shut your mouth!' shouted the woman.

Suddenly there was lightning, followed by the crash of thunder.

Good thing the storm's come,' said Jo. 'I've been feeling it in the air for days.'

Where's your old man now?' asked Jim slowly.

Her head dropped forward onto the table. 'He's gone shearing and left me all alone again,' she cried.

Watch the glasses,' said Jo. 'Come on, have another drink. No use crying about it.'

She dried her eyes and took the glass. 'It's a lonely life for a woman,' she said. Jo took her hand.

Every minute the lightning grew brighter and the thunder sounded nearer. I got up and went over to the kid, who immediately hid her drawings by sitting on them. 'You're not to look,' she said.

Oh, come on, show us.' Jim came over to us, and we were just drunk enough to joke and laugh the kid into showing us the pictures. They were extraordinary drawings for a child to do—clever, but very nasty. No doubt about it, the kid's mind was diseased. While we looked at the pictures, she got madly excited, laughing and trembling all over.

Ma!' she screamed. 'Now I'm going to draw what you told me I must never draw—now I'm going to!'

The woman rushed at her and hit her on the head.

You'll get worse than that if you dare say that again!' she shouted.

Jo was too drunk to notice, but Jim caught the woman by the arm. The kid did not make a sound.

We listened to the thunder. Then the rain began to fall, hitting the iron roof like bullets.

You'd better sleep here, not in the tent,' said the woman.

Good idea,' said Jo quickly.

Go and get your things from the tent. You two can sleep in the store with the kid. Mr Jo can have this room.'

It sounded a crazy arrangement, but nobody said anything. Jim and I took a lantern and went down to the tent. We ran through the rain, laughing and shouting like two children who are having a wonderful adventure.

When we came back, the kid was already in the store, lying on a blanket. Jo shouted, 'Good night, all!' We took a lamp and closed the door of the store.

Jim and I sat down on two packing cases. We looked around at the bags of potatoes, the smoked meats hanging from the ceiling, the advertisements for coffee on the walls—and couldn't stop laughing. The kid sat up and stared at us. We took no notice of her.

What are you laughing at?' she said uneasily.

You!' shouted Jim. 'You, and this whole place, my child.'

She screamed with anger and beat herself with her hands. 'I won't be laughed at, I won't!'

Go to sleep, Miss, or do some drawing,' said Jim. 'Look, here's a pencil and a bit of paper.'

Through the noise of the rain we heard Jo's footsteps in the next room, then the sound of a door opening and closing.

It's a lonely life for a woman,' whispered Jim.

A hundred and twenty-five different ways!'

The kid threw the piece of paper at me. 'There you are,' she said. 'I've done it because Ma shut me in here with you two. The thing she said I never ought to draw. I drew the one she said she'd shoot me if I did. I don't care! I don't care!'

The kid had drawn a picture of the woman shooting a man and then digging a hole to bury him in.

She threw herself to the floor, and rolled around, biting her fingers.

Jim and I sat until dawn with the drawing beside us. The rain stopped, and the little kid fell asleep, breathing loudly. We got up and went down to the paddock. A cold wind was blowing—the air smelled of wet grass. Just as we got on to the horses, Jo came out of the building—he waved to us to ride on.

I'll catch you up later!' he shouted.

A bend in the road, and the whole place disappeared.