pdouglas.thecodex-第48部分
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He stepped to the fire; small and dignified; holding a seven…foot blowgun in one hand and a dead animal…species unknown…in the other。
〃Brother; I bring meat;〃 Borabay said in English and grinned。 Then he chucked the animal to the ground and strode over。 He embraced Tom twice; with a kiss on each side of the neck; some kind of ritualized Indian greeting。 Then he stepped back and placed a hand on his chest。 〃My name Borabay; brother。〃
〃I'm Tom。〃
〃Me; Jane;〃 said Sally。
Borabay turned。 〃Jane? You not Sally?〃
Sally laughed。 〃That was a little joke。〃
〃You; me; him; we brothers。〃 Borabay concluded by giving Tom another formal set of embraces; again kissing him on the sides of the neck。
〃Thank you for saving our lives;〃 Tom said。 It sounded feeble as soon as he had said it; but Borabay seemed pleased。
〃Thankee。 Thankee。 You eat soup?〃
〃Yes。 Delicious。〃
〃Borabay good cook。 You eat more!〃
〃Where did you learn English?〃
〃My mother teach me。〃
〃You speak well。〃
〃I speak bad。 But I learn from you and then I speak gooder。〃
〃Better;〃 said Sally。
〃Thankee。 I go to America someday with you; brother。〃
It amazed Tom that way out here; as far removed from civilization as any place on earth; people still wanted to go to America。
Borabay glanced at Bugger; who was in his usual place in Tom's pocket。
〃This monkey cry and cry when you sick。 What his name?〃
〃Hairy Bugger;〃 said Tom。
〃Why you not eat this monkey when you starve?〃
〃Well; I've gotten fond of him。〃 said Tom。 〃He wouldn't have been more than a mouthful anyway。〃
〃And why you call him Hairy Bugger? What is Hairy Bugger?〃
〃Er; that's just a nickname for an animal with hair。〃
〃Good。 I learn new word; Hairy Bugger。 I want learn English。〃
Sally said; 〃I want to learn English。〃
〃Thankee! You tell me when I mistake。〃 The Indian held out his finger to the monkey。 Bugger grasped it in a tiny paw and looked up at him; then squeaked and ducked down into Tom's pocket。
Borabay laughed。 〃Hairy Bugger think I want eat him。 He know we Tara like monkey。 Now I make food。〃 He went back to where he had dropped his game and collected it along with a pot。 He withdrew a ways from the camp; squatted down and began skinning and quartering the animal; chucking everything into the pot including the guts and bones。 Tom joined Sally at the fire。
〃I'm still a little disbobulated here;〃 Tom said。 〃What happened? Where did Borabay e from?〃
〃I don't know any more than you。 Borabay found us all sick and dying under that log。 He cleared the area; built the huts; moved us in; fed us; doctored us。 He collected a huge number of herbs and even some weird insects…you can see them all tied up in the rafters of his hut…and he used those to make medicines。 I was the first person to get well。 That was two days ago; and I helped him cook and care for the rest of you。 The fever we all had; this bisi; seems to be short but intense。 It's not malaria; thank God; and Borabay tells me it has no lasting effects and won't recur。 If you don't die in the first two days it's over。 It seems that bisi is what killed Don Alfonso…he says that old people are more susceptible。〃
At this reminder of their traveling panion; Tom felt a stab of pain。
〃I know;〃 Sally said。 〃I miss him; too。〃
〃I'll never forget the old man and his offbeat wisdom。 It's hard to believe he's gone。〃
They watched Borabay chopping and hacking up the animal and tossing the chunks into a pot。 He was singing a chantlike tune that rose and fell with the breeze。
〃Has he said anything about this Hauser fellow and what's going on in the Sierra Azul?〃
〃No。 He won't talk about it。〃 She looked at him and hesitated。 〃For a while back there I thought we were all finished。〃
〃Yeah。〃
〃Do you remember what I said?〃
〃I do。〃
She blushed deeply。
Tom asked; 〃You want to take it back?〃
She shook her head; sending her blond hair aswirl; then gazed at him; her cheeks flushed。 〃Never。〃
Tom smiled。 〃Good。〃 He took her hand。 What they had gone through had deepened her beauty somehow; made her look spiritual; something he couldn't quite explain。 That prickly; defensive edge seemed to have disappeared。 Getting that close to death had changed them all。
Borabay came back with some raw tidbits of meat wrapped up in a leaf。 〃Hairy Bugger!〃 he called and made a sucking noise with his teeth that sounded uncannily like the monkey。 Bugger popped his head out of Tom's pocket。 Borabay extended his hand; and Bugger; after fretting and squeaking a bit; reached out; snatched off a little piece of meat; and crammed it into his mouth。 Then he snatched another; and another; stuffing his face with both hands; his squeaks of pleasure muffled by the food。
〃Hairy Bugger and I friend now;〃 said Borabay; smiling。
Vernon's fever broke that night。 He woke up the next morning; lucid but weak。 Borabay fussed around him; forcing a variety of herbal tisanes and other concoctions down his throat。 They spent the day resting in camp while Borabay went out collecting food。 The Indian returned in the afternoon with a palm…leaf sack; from which he unloaded roots; fruits; nuts; and fresh fish。 He spent the rest of the day roasting and smoking and salting the food; then bundling it in dry grass and leaves。
〃Are we going somewhere?〃 Tom asked him。
〃Yes。〃
〃Where?〃
Borabay said; 〃We talkee later。〃
Philip came limping out of the hut; his feet still bandaged; briar pipe in his mouth。 〃Glorious afternoon;〃 he said。 He came over to the fire and sat down。 As he poured himself a cup of tea Borabay had made; he said; 〃This Indian chap should be put on the cover of National Geographic!〃
Vernon joined them; shakily settling down on the log。
〃Vernon; eat!〃 Borabay immediately filled up a bowl with stew and passed it over。 Vernon took it with trembling hands; mumbling thanks。
〃Wele back to the land of the living;〃 said Philip。
Vernon wiped his brow and said nothing。 He was pale and thin。 He placed another spoonful of stew in his mouth。
〃Well; here we are;〃 said Philip。 〃My three sons。〃
There was a sudden edge to Philip's voice that Tom noted with unease。 A piece of wood popped in the fire。
〃And what a mess we have gotten ourselves into;〃 Philip said。 〃Thanks to Dear Old Dad。〃 He raised his cup in mock salute。 〃Here's a toast to you; Dear Old Dad。〃 He tossed his tea down。
Tom looked more closely at Philip。 He had recovered amazingly well。 His eyes were finally alive…alive with anger。
Philip looked around。 〃What now; brothers of mine?〃
Vernon shrugged。 He was pale; his face sunken; gray circles under his eyes。 He placed another spoonful of stew in his mouth。
〃Do we scurry back out; tails between our legs? And let this Hauser fellow help himself to the Lippi; the Braques; the Monet; and all the rest?〃 He paused。 〃Or do we head on up into the Sierra Azul and maybe end up with our entrails hanging in the bushes?〃 He relit his pipe。 〃Those are our choices。〃
No one answered while Philip looked around; staring at each one in turn。
〃Well?〃 Philip said。 〃I'm asking a serious question: Are we going to let that corpulent Cortez waltz in here and steal our inheritance?〃
Vernon looked up。 His face was still haggard from his illness; and his voice was weak。 〃Answer the question yourself。 You're the one who brought Hauser up here。〃
Philip turned to Vernon with a cool look。 〃I should think the time for recriminations had passed。〃
〃As far as I'm concerned; the time for recriminations has just begun。〃
〃This isn't the time or place;〃 said Tom。
Vernon turned to Tom。 〃Philip brought that psychopath up here; and he needs to answer for it。〃
〃I was acting in good faith。 I had no idea this man Hauser would turn out to be a monster。 And I did answer for it; Vernon。 Look at me。〃
Vernon shook his head。
Philip went on。 〃The real culprit here; since no one else seems inclined to admit it; is Father。 Isn't anyone here just a wee bit angry at what Father's done to us? He nearly killed us。〃
Tom said; 〃He wanted to challenge us。〃
〃You're not defending him; I hope。〃
〃I'm trying to understand him。〃
〃I understand him only too well。 This Tomb Raider bullshit is just one more challenge in a long list of them。 Remember the sports tutors; the ski instructors; the art history lessons and horseback lessons and music lessons and chess lessons; the exhortations and speeches and threats? Remember report card day? He thinks we're fuckups; Tom。 He's always thought that。 And maybe it's true。 Look at me: thirty…seven years old and still an assistant professor at Gobshite Junior College…and you; doctoring Indian horses in Hayseed; Utah…and Vernon spending the prime of his life chanting with Swami Woo…Woo。 We're losers。〃 He erupted in a harsh laugh。
Borabay rose to his feet。 The action itself was simple; but it was done with such slow deliberation that it silenced them。 〃This not good talk。〃
〃This doesn't involve you; Borabay;〃 said Philip。
〃No more bad talk。〃
Philip ignored him; speaking to Tom。 〃Father could've left us his money like any other normal person。 Or he could have given it away。 Fine。 I could've lived with that。 It was his money。 But no; he had to e up with a plan to