1 twilight暮色-第52部分

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history；　actually。〃　

〃We　didn't　mean　to　disturb　you；〃　I　apologized。　

〃Not　at　all。　Where　are　you　going　to　start？〃　

〃The　Waggoner；〃　Edward　replied；　placing　one　hand　lightly　on　my　shoulder　
and　spinning　me　around　to　look　back　toward　the　door　we'd　just　e　
through。　Every　time　he　touched　me；　in　even　the　most　casual　way；　my　heart　
had　an　audible　reaction。　It　was　more　embarrassing　with　Carlisle　there。　

The　wall　we　faced　now　was　different　from　the　others。　Instead　of　
bookshelves；　this　wall　was　crowded　with　framed　pictures　of　all　sizes；　
some　in　vibrant　colors；　others　dull　monochromes。　I　searched　for　some　
logic；　some　binding　motif　the　collection　had　in　mon；　but　I　found　
nothing　in　my　hasty　examination。　

Edward　pulled　me　toward　the　far　left　side；　standing　me　in　front　of　a　
small　square　oil　painting　in　a　plain　wooden　frame。　This　one　did　not　stand　
out　among　the　bigger　and　brighter　pieces；　painted　in　varying　tones　of　
sepia；　it　depicted　a　miniature　city　full　of　steeply　slanted　roofs；　with　
thin　spires　atop　a　few　scattered　towers。　A　wide　river　filled　the　
foreground；　crossed　by　a　bridge　covered　with　structures　that　looked　like　
tiny　cathedrals。　

〃London　in　the　sixteenfifties；〃　Edward　said。　

〃The　London　of　my　youth；〃　Carlisle　added；　from　a　few　feet　behind　us。　I　
flinched；　I　hadn't　heard　him　approach。　Edward　squeezed　my　hand。　

〃Will　you　tell　the　story？〃　Edward　asked。　I　twisted　a　little　to　see　
Carlisle's　reaction。　

He　met　my　glance　and　smiled。　〃I　would；〃　he　replied。　〃But　I'm　actually　
running　a　bit　late。　The　hospital　called　this　morning　—　Dr。　Snow　is　taking　
a　sick　day。　Besides；　you　know　the　stories　as　well　as　I　do；〃　he　added；　
grinning　at　Edward　now。　

It　was　a　strange　bination　to　absorb　—　the　everyday　concerns　of　the　
town　doctor　stuck　in　the　middle　of　a　discussion　of　his　early　days　in　
seventeenthcentury　London。　

It　was　also　unsettling　to　know　that　he　spoke　aloud　only　for　my　benefit。　

After　another　warm　smile　for　me；　Carlisle　left　the　room。　

I　stared　at　the　little　picture　of　Carlisle's　hometown　for　a　long　moment。　

〃What　happened　then？〃　I　finally　asked；　staring　up　at　Edward；　who　was　
watching　me。　〃When　he　realized　what　had　happened　to　him？〃　

He　glanced　back　to　the　paintings；　and　I　looked　to　see　which　image　caught　
his　interest　now。　It　was　a　larger　landscape　in　dull　fall　colors　—　an　
empty；　shadowed　meadow　in　a　forest；　with　a　craggy　peak　in　the　distance。　

〃When　he　knew　what　he　had　bee；〃　Edward　said　quietly；　〃he　rebelled　
against　it。　He　tried　to　destroy　himself。　But　that's　not　easily　done。〃　

〃How？〃　I　didn't　mean　to　say　it　aloud；　but　the　word　broke　through　my　shock。　

〃He　jumped　from　great　heights；〃　Edward　told　me；　his　voice　impassive。　〃He　
tried　to　drown　himself　in　the　ocean…　but　he　was　young　to　the　new　life；　
and　very　strong。　It　is　amazing　that　he　was　able　to　resist…　feeding…　while　
he　was　still　so　new。　The　instinct　is　more　powerful　then；　it　takes　over　
everything。　But　he　was　so　repelled　by　himself　that　he　had　the　strength　to　
try　to　kill　himself　with　starvation。〃　

〃Is　that　possible？〃　My　voice　was　faint。　

〃No；　there　are　very　few　ways　we　can　be　killed。〃　

I　opened　my　mouth　to　ask；　but　he　spoke　before　I　could。　

〃So　he　grew　very　hungry；　and　eventually　weak。　He　strayed　as　far　as　he　
could　from　the　human　populace；　recognizing　that　his　willpower　was　
weakening；　too。　For　months　he　wandered　by　night；　seeking　the　loneliest　
places；　loathing　himself。　

〃One　night；　a　herd　of　deer　passed　his　hiding　place。　He　was　so　wild　with　
thirst　that　he　attacked　without　a　thought。　His　strength　returned　and　he　
realized　there　was　an　alternative　to　being　the　vile　monster　he　feared。　
Had　he　not　eaten　venison　in　his　former　life？　Over　the　next　months　his　new　
philosophy　was　born。　He　could　exist　without　being　a　demon。　He　found　
himself　again。　

〃He　began　to　make　better　use　of　his　time。　He'd　always　been　intelligent；　
eager　to　learn。　Now　he　had　unlimited　time　before　him。　He　studied　by　
night；　planned　by　day。　He　swam　to　France　and　—〃　

〃He　swam　to　France？〃　

〃People　swim　the　Channel　all　the　time；　Bella；〃　he　reminded　me　patiently。　

〃That's　true；　I　guess。　It　just　sounded　funny　in　that　context。　Go　on。〃　

〃Swimming　is　easy　for　us　—〃　

〃Everything　is　easy　for　you；〃　I　griped。　

He　waited；　his　expression　amused。　

〃I　won't　interrupt　again；　I　promise。〃　

He　chuckled　darkly；　and　finished　his　sentence。　〃Because；　technically；　we　
don't　need　to　breathe。〃　

〃You　—〃　

〃No；　no；　you　promised。〃　He　laughed；　putting　his　cold　finger　lightly　to　my　
lips。　〃Do　you　want　to　hear　the　story　or　not？〃　

〃You　can't　spring　something　like　that　on　me；　and　then　expect　me　not　to　
say　anything；〃　I　mumbled　against　his　finger。　

He　lifted　his　hand；　moving　it　to　rest　against　my　neck。　The　speed　of　my　
heart　reacted　to　that；　but　I　persisted。　

〃You　don't　have　to　breathe？〃　I　demanded。　

〃No；　it's　not　necessary。　Just　a　habit。〃　He　shrugged。　

〃How　long　can　you　go…　without　breathing？〃　

〃Indefinitely；　I　suppose；　I　don't　know。　It　gets　a　bit　unfortable　—　
being　without　a　sense　of　smell。〃　

〃A　bit　unfortable；〃　I　echoed。　

I　wasn't　paying　attention　to　my　own　expression；　but　something　in　it　made　
him　grow　somber。　His　hand　dropped　to　his　side　and　he　stood　very　still；　
his　eyes　intent　on　my　face。　The　silence　lengthened。　His　features　were　
immobile　as　stone。　

〃What　is　it？〃　I　whispered；　touching　his　frozen　face。　

His　face　softened　under　my　hand；　and　he　sighed。　〃I　keep　waiting　for　it　to　
happen。〃　

〃For　what　to　happen？〃　

〃I　know　that　at　some　point；　something　I　tell　you　or　something　you　see　is　
going　to　be　too　much。　And　then　you'll　run　away　from　me；　screaming　as　you　
go。〃　He　smiled　half　a　smile；　but　his　eyes　were　serious。　〃I　won't　stop　

you。　I　want　this　to　happen；　because　I　want　you　to　be　safe。　And　yet；　I　
want　to　be　with　you。　The　two　desires　are　impossible　to　reconcile…〃　He　
trailed　off；　staring　at　my　face。　Waiting。　

〃I'm　not　running　anywhere；〃　I　promised。　

〃We'll　see；〃　he　said；　smiling　again。　

I　frowned　at　him。　〃So；　go　on　—　Carlisle　was　swimming　to　France。〃　

He　paused；　getting　back　into　his　story。　Reflexively；　his　eyes　flickered　
to　another　picture　—　the　most　colorful　of　them　all；　the　most　ornately　
framed；　and　the　largest；　it　was　twice　as　wide　as　the　door　it　hung　next　
to。　The　canvas　overflowed　with　bright　figures　in　swirling　robes；　writhing　
around　long　pillars　and　off　marbled　balconies。　I　couldn't　tell　if　it　
represented　Greek　mythology；　or　if　the　characters　floating　in　the　clouds　
above　were　meant　to　be　biblical。　

〃Carlisle　swam　to　France；　and　continued　on　through　Europe；　to　the　
universities　there。　By　night　he　studied　music；　science；　medicine　—　and　
found　his　calling；　his　penance；　in　that；　in　saving　human　lives。〃　His　
expression　became　awed；　almost　reverent。　〃I　can't　adequately　describe　the　
struggle；　it　took　Carlisle　two　centuries　of　torturous　effort　to　perfect　
his　selfcontrol。　Now　he　is　all　but　immune　to　the　scent　of　human　blood；　
and　he　is　able　to　do　the　work　he　loves　without　agony。　He　finds　a　great　
deal　of　peace　there；　at　the　hospital…〃　Edward　stared　off　into　space　for　a　
long　moment。　Suddenly　he　seemed　to　recall　his　purpose。　He　tapped　his　
finger　against　the　huge　painting　in　front　of　us。　

〃He　was　studying　in　Italy　when　he　discovered　the　others　there。　They　were　
much　more　civilized　and　educated　than　the　wraiths　of　the　London　sewers。〃　

He　touched　a　paratively　sedate　quartet　of　figures　painted　on　the　
highest　balcony；　looking　down　calmly　on　the　mayhem　below　them。　I　examined　
the　grouping　carefully　and　realized；　with　a　startled　laugh；　that　I　
recognized　the　goldenhaired　man。　

〃Solimena　was　greatly　inspired　by　Carlisle's　friends。　He　often　painted　
them　as　gods；〃　Edward　chuckled。　〃Aro；　Marcus；　Caius；〃　he　said；　indicating　
the　other　three；　two　blackhaired；　one　snowywhite。　〃Nighttime　patrons　of　
the　arts。〃　

〃What　happened　to　them？〃　I　wondered　aloud；　my　fingertip　hovering　a　
centimeter　from　the　figures　on　the　canvas。　

〃They're　still　there。〃　He　shrugged。　〃As　they　have　been　for　who　knows　how　
many　millennia。　Carlisle　stayed　with　them　only　for　a　short　time；　just　a　
few　decades。　He　greatly　admired　their　civility；　their　refinement；　but　
they　persisted　in　trying　to　cure　his　aversion　to　'his　natural　food　
source；'　as　they　called　it。　They　tried　to　persuade　him；　and　he　tried　to　
persuade　them；　to　no　avail。　At　that　point；　Carlisle　decided　to　try　the　
New　World。　He　dreamed　of　finding　others　like　himself。　He　was　very　lonely；　
you　see。　

〃He　didn't　find　anyone　for　a　long　time。　But；　as　monsters　became　the　stuff　
of　fairy　tales；　he　found　he　could　interact　with　unsuspecting　humans　as　if　
he　were　one　of　them。　He　began　practicing　medicine。　But　the　panionship　
he　craved　evaded　him；　he　couldn't　risk　familiarity。　

〃When　the　influenza　epidemic　hit；　he　was　working　nights　in　a　hospital　in　
Chicago。　He'd　been　turning　over　an　idea　in　his　mind　for　several　years；　
and　he　had　almost　decided　to　act　—　since　he　couldn't　find　a　panion；　he　
would　create　one。　He　wasn't　absolutely　sure　how　his　own　transformation　
had　occurred；　so　he　was　hesitant。　And　he　was　loath　to　steal　anyone's　life　
the　way　his　had　been　stolen