hemingway, ernest - garden of eden-第38章
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so beautifully。 He had a wonderful life and all he thinks about now is Africa and his drunken father and his press cuttings。 His clippings。 Has he ever shown you his clippings; Heiress?〃
〃No; Catherine;〃 Marita said。
〃He will;〃 Catherine said。 〃He tried to show them to me once at le Grau du Roi but I put a stop to that。 There were hundreds of them and every one; almost; had his picture and they were all the same pictures。 It's worse than carrying around obscene post cards really。 I think he reads them by himself and is unfaithful to me with them。 In a wastebasket probably。 He always has a wastebasket。 He said himself it was the most important thing for a writer—〃
〃Let's go in and swim; Catherine;〃 Marita said。 〃I think I'm getting cold。〃
〃I mean the wastebasket was the most important thing for a writer;〃 Catherine said。 〃I used to think I ought to get him a really wonderful one that would be worthy of him。 But he never puts anything he writes in the wastebasket。 He writes in those ridiculous child's notebooks and he doesn't throw anything away。 He just crosses things out and writes along the sides of the pages。 The whole business is a fraud really。 He makes mistakes in spelling and grammar too。 Did you know; Marita; that he doesn't even really know grammar?〃
〃Poor David;〃 Marita said。
〃Of course his French is worse;〃 Catherine said。 〃You've never seen him try to write it。 He fakes along well enough in conversa tion and he's amusing with his slang。 But actually he's illiterate。〃
。 。
〃Too bad;〃 said David。
〃I thought he was wonderful;〃 Catherine said; 〃until I found he couldn't write even a simple note correctly。 But then you'll be able to write in French for him。〃
〃Ta queule;〃 David said cheerfully。
〃He's good at that sort of thing;〃 Catherine said。 〃Quick tags of slang that are probably outdated before he knows it。 He speaks very idiomatic French but he can't write it at all。 He's really illiterate; Marita; and you have to face it。 His handwriting is terrible too。 He can't write like a gentleman nor speak like one in any language。 Especially not his own。〃
〃Poor David;〃 Marita said。
〃I can't say I've given him the best years of my life;〃 Catherine said。 〃Because I've only lived with him since March I think it was; but I've certainly given him the best months of my life。 The ones I've had the most fun in anyway and he certainly made them fun too。 I wish it hadn't ended in complete disillusion too but what are you to do if you discover the man is illiterate and practices solitary vice in a wastebasket full of clippings from something called The Original Romeike's; whoever they are。 Any girl would be discouraged and frankly I'm not going to put up with it。〃
〃You take the clippings and burn them;〃 David said。 〃That would be the soundest thing。 Wouldn't you like to go in now and swim; Devil?〃
Catherine looked at him slyly。
〃How did you know I did it?〃 she asked。
〃Did what?〃
〃Burned the clippings。〃
〃Did you; Catherine?〃 Marita asked。
〃Of course I did;〃 Catherine said。
David stood looking at her。 He felt completely hollow。 It was like coming around a curve on a mountain road and the road not
being there and only a gulf ahead。 Marita was standing now too。 Catherine was looking at them her face calm and reasonable。
〃Let's go in and swim;〃 Marita said。 〃We'll just swim out to the point and back。〃
〃I'm glad you're being pleasant finally;〃 Catherine said。 〃I've been wanting to go in for a long time。 It's really getting quite cool。 We forget it's September。〃
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Chapter Twenty…six
THEY DRESSED ON THE BEACH and climbed up the steep trail with David carrying the bag with the beach things to where the old car was waiting in the pine woods。 The got in and David drove back to the hotel in the early evening light。 Catherine was quiet in the car and to anyone passing them they might have been returning from any afternoon at one of the unfrequented beaches of the Est&el。 The war ships were no longer in sight when they left the car on the driveway; and the sea beyond the pines was blue and calm。 The evening was as beautiful and clear as the morning had been。
They walked down to the entrance of the hotel and David took the bag with the beach things into the storeroom and put it down。
〃Let me take them;〃 Catherine said。 〃They ought to go to dry。〃
〃I'm sorry;〃 David said。 He turned at the door of the storeroom and walked out and then down to his work room at the end of the hotel。 Inside the room he opened the big Vuitton suitcase。 The pile of cahiers that the stories had been written in was gone。 So
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were the four bulky envelopes from the bank that had contained the press clippings。 The pile of cahiers with the narrative written in them were intact。 He closed and locked the suitcase and searched all of the drawers in the armoire and searched the room。 He had not believed that the stories could be gone。 He had not believed that she could do it。 At the beach he had known that she might have done it but it had seemed impossible and he had not really believed it。 They had been calm and careful and restrained about it as you were trained to be in danger or emergency or in disaster but it had not seemed possible that it could really have happened。
Now he knew that it had happened but still thought it might be some ghastly joke。 So; empty and dead in his heart; he re opened the suitcase and checked it and after he locked it he checked the room again。
Now there was no danger and no emergency。 It was only disaster now。 But it couldn't be。 She must have hidden them someplace。 They could be in the storeroom; or in their own room; or she could have put them in Marita's room。 She couldn't really have destroyed them。 No one could do that to a fellow human being。 He still could not believe that she had done it but he felt sick inside himself when he closed and locked the door。
The two girls were at the bar when David came in。 Marita looked up at him and saw how things were and Catherine watched him come in by looking at the mirror。 She did not look at him; only at his reflection in the mirror。
〃Where did you put them; Devil?〃 David asked。
She turned away from the mirror and looked at him。 〃I won't tell you;〃 she said。 〃I took care of them。〃
〃I wish you'd tell me;〃 David said。 〃Because I need them very much。〃
〃No; you don't;〃 she said。 〃They were worthless and I hated them。〃
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〃Not the one about Kibo;〃 David said。 〃You loved Kibo。 Don't you remember?〃
〃He had to go too。 I was going to tear him out and keep him but I couldn't find him。 Anyway you said he was dead。〃
David saw Marita look at her and look away。 Then she looked back。 〃Where did you burn them; Catherine?〃
〃I won't tell you either;〃 Catherine said。 〃You're part of the same thing。〃
〃Did you burn them with the clipping?〃 David asked。
〃I won't tell you;〃 Catherine said。 〃You talk to me like a policeman or at school。〃
〃Tell me; Devil。 I only want to know。〃
〃I paid for them;〃 Catherine said。 〃I paid the money to do them。〃
〃I know;〃 David said。 〃It was very generous of you。 Where did you burn them; Devil?〃
〃I won't tell her。〃
〃No。 Just tell me。〃
〃Ask her to go away。
〃I really have to go anyway;〃 Marita said。 〃I'll see you later; Catherine。〃
〃That's good;〃 Catherine said。 〃It wasn't your fault; Heiress。〃 David sat on the tall stool by Catherine and she looked in the mirror and watched Marita go out of the room。
〃Where did you burn them; Devil?〃 David asked。 〃You can tell me now。
〃She wouldn't understand;〃 Catherine said。 〃That's why I wanted her to go。
〃I know;〃 said David。 〃Where did you burn them; Devil?〃
〃In the iron drum with holes that Madame uses to burn trash;〃 Catherine said。
〃Did everything burn up?〃
〃Yes。 I poured on some petrol from a bidon in the remise。 It
made a big fire and everything burned。 I did it for you; David; and for all of us。〃
〃I'm sure you did;〃 David said。 〃Did everything burn?〃
〃Oh yes。 We can go out and look if you like but it isn't necessary。 The paper all burned black and I stirred it up with a stick。〃
〃I'll just go out and have a look;〃 David said。
〃But you'll be back;〃 Catherine said。
〃Sure;〃 David said