skirting是什么意思,skirting的意思翻译、用法、同义词、(Quarantine)

大家好，今天来为大家分享skirting是什么意思,skirting的意思翻译、用法、同义词、的一些知识点，和Quarantine的问题解析，大家要是都明白，那么可以忽略，如果不太清楚的话可以看看本篇文章，相信很大概率可以解决您的问题，接下来我们就一起来看看吧！

BridgetlivedinBarcelonaforayear.FirstshestayedwithhercollegefriendsMayaandAndrew,whoweretryingtobepoets,andthenshesubletfromamannamedMarco,whomshe’dmetatagrocerystore.ShehadaflingwithawomannamedBernadette,whowasfromNewZealandandsharedaflatwithaScotnamedLaurie,whomBridgetalsosleptwith,andthatwastheendofthingswithBernadette.BridgetsmokedFortunacigarettesandwrotefuriouslyinherjournalaboutpeopleshe’dknownandsleptwith,orwantedtosleepwith,orhadsleptwithandthenbeenrejectedby.Shewastwenty-threeyearsold.

OnenightatMarco’sapartment,shewasawakenedbyloudknocking.Stillsemi-drunkfromaneveningwithMayaandAndrew,shestumbledtothedoorandopenedittofindthreejunkiesstandingthere,askingforMarco.SheknewtheywerejunkiesbecauseMarcowasajunkie—he’dtoldherthis—andallhisfriendswerejunkies,too.TheyneededMarco’sfurniture,forreasonsthatwereunclear,andtheyshovedherasideandbeganmovingthekitchentable,thefuton.Forjunkies,theywererobustandrosy-cheeked,andshedidn’tputupmuchdefense.Somehowthisincidentwasallherfault.Marcokickedheroutandshewenttoliveinacheaphotel,drinkinganiseinbedandstaringatthepeelingwallpaper.Later,Marcomadeherfileafalsepolicereportsayingthathislaptophadbeenstolen.Hesaidthatitwastheonlywayshecouldmakeupforhertransgressions.

ThepersonwhorescuedherfromthecheaphotelwasAngela,whomshe’dmetattherestaurantwheretheybothwaitressed.AngelawasfromVancouver,andsomedewyfreshnessthatBridgetassociatedwiththeWestCoastseemedtoclingtoheralways,evenwhenshewassleep-deprivedordrunk.AngelahadaGermanboyfriendwithafacesofemininethathelookedexquisite,likeaporcelaindoll.HisnamewasHans,ormaybeAnders.HewasalwaysnicetoBridget,andwhenAngelabroughtherhomehemadeupabedforherinthecorneroftheirtinylivingroom,apileofblanketsandpillows,asifshewereastraydog.Once,inthemiddleofthenight,shewoketoseehimcrouchinginfrontofher,staring.

“Iwantedtomakesureyouwerecomfortable.”

“I’mcomfortable,”shesaid,andhewentbacktobedwithAngela.

AngelaandherGermanboyfriendwerelittleparents.Theylikedtomakeafussoverpeopleandputonelaboratedinnerparties,andthenthey’dgetdrunkandspendthenightbickering.Itwastedious,andyetyouhadtoindulgethem,becauseyoucouldseehowmuchtheyenjoyedit,thisperformanceofadulthood.Bridgetstayedwiththemfortwomonths,andwouldhavefeltguiltyaboutmooching,iftheyhadn’tsoclearlywantedtogatheraroundthemselvesacollectionofmisfitstotakecareof.InadditiontoBridget,theyoftenhostedanassortmentofhard-drinkingGermansfromHans/Anders’swork,whateveritwas,andMeiLing,aChinese-Canadianwomanwhohadaclusterofgraywhiskersonherotherwisesmoothcheek,likeatuftofcrabgrassthrivingonalawn.MeiLing’sreasonsforbeinginBarcelonawereunclear;wheneverBridgettalkedtoher,shescowledandlefttheroom.Angelasaidthatshewasverydepressed.

Bridgetwouldhavestayedthereindefinitely,butonemorningHans/Andersbroughthercoffeeinherdogbedandsaidthattheyhadtotalk.“We’releaving,”hesaid.

“Forwork?”Asusual,shewashungover.

Heshookhisheadandpattedhershoulder.“AngelaandIaregettingmarriedandmovingtoCanada.Youcancomevisitusanytime.”

Helaughed.“Itwasheridea,”hesaidtenderly.“Everythingisalwaysheridea.”

Bridgetwasstunnedandalittleirritated.Shewasusedtoaconstantexchangeoffriendsandlovers,andtheideathatoneoftheserelationshipsshouldbeconsideredpermanentstruckherasinconsiderate.Itwentagainstthewaytheywerealltryingtolive:steppinglightlyonthisearth,skirtingthefollyofhumancertainty.Thatnight,sheandAngelawentoutfordrinks.Theysatinanoutdoorcourtyardeatingtinymeatballsandcocklesintomatosauce.Angela’sblondbraidnestledagainstherneck.SheandBridgethadonceshoweredtogether,hadswumnakedtogetheratabeachinSitges.Angela’sfleshwassopalethatifyoupressedafingertoherthightheskinblusheddarkpink,asifembarrassedbythetouch.NowshewasdrinkingcheapRioja,herteethturningpurple.“I’mgoingtoenrollinaneducationprogramandgetcertifiedtoteachkindergarten,”shewassaying.“Hanswillworkwithmyfatheroncehispaperworkissettled.Thebusinessisverysecure.Likemyfatheralwayssays,empiresmayriseandfallbutpeoplestillneedlightbulbs.”

HowtheMidtermsWillShapetheNextTwoYears

InBridget’sstomach,thecocklesswamrestlesslyinariverofwine.“Youseemyoungtogetmarried,”shesaid.

Angelashookherhead,andherbraidflappedagainsthershoulder.“Oh,wewon’tgetmarriedforatleastayear.Wehavetoplan.Nottomentionbookthechurch.Theflowersalone!Youhavenoidea.”

Shewasrightaboutthat.Bridgetlethergo—fromtheconversation,fromtheirpassingfriendship,fromthecountryofSpain.Shefoundanotherplacetostayand,whenAngelahostedalastdinnerpartytosaygoodbye,Bridgetsaidthatshewassickanddidn’tgo.

Tohersurprise,sheherselfwasbackinCanadawithinsixmonths.Marcostoppedbytherestaurantonedaytotellherthathermotherhadbeencalling,and,whenshecalledback,hermotherdidn’tevenscoldherforbeinghardtoreach.“Ihavesomenews,”shesaidtightly.“Yourfatherisn’tfeelingwell.”

Bridgetheldthereceiverinherhotpalm.Shewasonbreak,astainedwhiteapronaroundherhips,herarmpitsstilldrippingfromtheafternoonrush,andatableofthreemeneyedherwiththeimpersonalbutaggressivesexualhostilityshe’dgrownusedto.Sheburstintotears,andthemenrolledtheireyesandturnedtoabettertarget.Asifinonemovement,shehungupthephone,untiedtheapron,collectedherpassportfromMayaandAndrew’sapartment,andwenthome.

Herfatherlivedforayearsodrearyandrelentlesslyfullofpainthatshewasforcedtowishhimdead.Hehadbeenajokester,herfather,spillingoverwithinappropriateremarks.Sinceshe’dwornabikinionceatageten,hehadcalledherBardot,afterBrigitte,whomshedidnotresembleintheslightest.Hegavewhoopeecushionsasgifts.Hedidimpressionssoterriblethatnooneeverguessedwhohewassupposedtobe.Inthehospital,tetheredtoatubularbouquetofchemotherapydrugs,hegrittedhisteethandattemptedtomakelightofthesituation,buttherewasnolighttobemade.Hisbodyshrank;hewassmallereverymorning,asifrepeatedlyrobbedofsubstanceinthenight.Bridgetwantedonlyforhissufferingtoend,and,whenitfinallydid,shesobbedsohardshefeltasifherlungswereliquefying.Hermotherwasahusk,driedoutbygrief.Shedidn’twanttostayinthehousealone,soshesoldit,boughtacondodowntown,andtookupchoralsinging.Oneday,shepressedhercoolpalmtoBridget’sforeheadandsaidgently,“Whatwillyoudonow,dear?”

Bridgethadn’tthoughtthatfar;shehadconceivedofherselfasasourceofsupportandnothingelse.Nowshesawthathermotherneededhertogo,andshefeltabandoned.Intheyearoftendingtoherfathershehadn’tworkedandhadlosttouchwithmostofherfriends.Sittinginacafédowntown,shewrotealettertoAngela,thekindofletteryouwriteonlytosomeoneyouhaven’tseeninalongtimeandperhapsneverknewwell,thekindofletteryouprobablyshouldn’tsendatall.Angelarepliedwithinaweek.“Myheartiswithyou,”shewrote,andBridget’seyesswelledwithtears.

AngelaandherGermanhadnotgotmarriedafterall;hehadmetagirlnamedMavisandmovedtoEdmontonand“Youknowwhat?Goodriddance!”Angelanolongerwantedtobeateacher;shewastrainingtobeamasseuseinstead.SheinvitedBridgettovisitanytime.“We’llcookandhavelongtalksjustlikeweusedto,”shewrote,arevisionoftheirhistorythatBridgetfoundsweet.

Shedidn’tvisit.Shewenttolawschoolandmadenewfriendsandwhenshegraduatedshegotajobinlaborrelationsforamidsizedcorporation.Sheworesuitstowork,withkittenheels,andsawhermothereveryotherweekend,whetherhermotherwantedhertoornot.Intheevenings,shestillsometimeswroteinherjournal,buttheentriestendedtoturnintogrocerylists,soshestopped.Shewasnotunhappy.Shelikedbeinganadult,beinggoodatherjob,owningacar,paintingthewallsofherapartmentonaSaturdayafternoon.Shedidn’tknowwhyshe’deverresistedit.

WhentheinvitationtoAngela’sweddingcame,BridgetstaredattheenvelopeforafewminutesbeforesherememberedwhoAngelawas.Shesentherregretsandforgotaboutituntilthephonerangateleveno’clockonenightandontheotherendwasAngela,weeping.

“IknewImusthaveoffendedyou,”shesaid.“Ihavetoexplain.Webothknowyoushouldhavebeenabridesmaid,butCharles’sfamilyisenormous—Iswearhehastenthousandcousins—and,yousee,intheirculturethingsarequitedifferent.Iwish—”

Thiswentonforsometime.Finally,Bridgetsaid,“Angela,it’sfine.Iwasn’toffended.”

Apause,asniffle.“Soyou’llcome,then?”Angelasaid.Hervoicewastinny,achild’s,withachild’smanipulationedgingaroundthedistress.

Bridgetfelttrapped.“Ofcourse,”shesaid.

SheandSam,herfiancé—hewasalsoalawyer—decidedtotreatitasavacation.Theyhikedandswamandwentzip-liningatWhistlerbeforeendingtheirtripinVancouver.“Howdoyouknowheragain?”Samaskedinthehotel,whereshewassteamingherdress,feelingnervousforreasonsshecouldn’tdefine.

Bridgetsmoothedthedresswithherhand,asifstrokingherownlap.“Ibarelydo,”shesaid.“It’llprobablybedull.Forgivemeforwhatwe’reabouttoexperience.”

“Oh,I’llmakeyoupay,”Samsaid,smiling,andkissedher.

Thewedding,though,wasnotdull.Angela’shusbandturnedouttobeaNigeriancardiacsurgeon,andhislargefamilywasraucousandwitty.Everybodyhadtomeeteverybody.Nobodywasallowedtoskipthedancing.AtonepointBridgetfoundherselfsittingwithanelderlyuncle,tellinghimalongstoryaboutherfather,ashenoddedandlistenedgravely,hiswifemeanwhileinstructingSaminadance.AngelacameupbehindBridgetandputherhandsonhershoulders,hercheekagainstBridget’scheek.Shewasstillblondandfresh-faced,butskinniernow,herdressaseverecolumnofwhite,nofrillsorlace.Herhairwaspulledbackinachignon.Grownup,shewasallgeometry.

“Thanksforbeinghere,Bardot,”shewhisperedinBridget’sear.“Itwouldn’thavebeenthesamewithoutyou.”Bridgetsqueezedherhand,touchedthatshe’drememberedthisoldnickname.AndthenAngelawassweptawaybyacrowdthatliftedhertothedanceflooranddemandedsheperform.Shedancedgamely,butherhairwascomingloose;shekeptraisingahandtopokeatthestrands,andhersmiletightenedeachtimeshefeltthedisarray.

BridgetandSammovedtoOttawaandhadtwochildren,RobertandMelinda—BobbyandMellie.Theirkidswerejoiners;theyhatedtobealone,andeveryweekendtheywantedtoseetheirfriendsatsoccer,birthdayparties,figureskating,hockey,dancerecitals,sleepovers.Thistookupmuchoflife.Bridgetbegantodreamoftravel:spasinCostaRica,yogaretreatsinScandinavia.

“IthinkI’mburningout,”shesaidtoSam,andhethoughtshemeantonwork,butshemeantoneverything.Samwasstableandgoodforher,absorbingwhatevershethrewathim,thetofuofhusbands,butitdidn’thelp.Sheconsideredanaffair,butitseemedliketoomuchwork.Anyway,herdayswerefullofmeetingsandcarpools;therewasnotimeformalfeasance.Instead,shespentmorehoursthansheshouldhaveonline,seeingwhoselifehadturnedouttobemoredramaticthanherown.ThatwashowshefoundAngela,whomaintainedactiveaccountsonFacebook,Pinterest,andInstagram.AngelawasstillinVancouverand,judgingbyherpictures,shehadonechild,anastonishinglybeautifulboywhowasaperfectcombinationofherandCharles—hereyes,hisnose—asifthey’ddividedupthegenesbylegalagreement.Angelaphotographedhimplayingsoccerandbakingmuffins;shepinnedrecipesfororganicpancakeswithhiddenspinachanddiscussedtheimportanceoffish-oilsupplements.Sheredidherlivingroomandpostedtheswatches;everythingwasoff-white.Shesaidthatherfavoritecolorwasbone.Bridgetclicked“Like.”Withinaday,amessagefromAngelapoppedupinherin-box,frothingwithsixyears’worthofnews.MuchofitwasalreadyknowntoBridget,fromtheInternet,butshepretendeditwasn’t.Asithappened,AngelawascomingtoOttawaforaconference,andtheymadeplanstogettogether.Bridgetaskedwhatkindofconferenceitwas.“Medical,”Angelawrote.

Onthedaytheyweretomeet,Bridgetwentstraightfromtheoffice,inherpencilskirtandheels,tothebaratAngela’shoteldowntown.Itwasamodesthotelthatcateredtovisitingbureaucrats.Angelawassittinginabooth,wearingjeansandalightcardigan.Abone-coloredcardigan.Herhairwascutinapleasantbob,andshewasstillblond.WhenshesawBridget,shestoodupandflungherarmsaroundher,pressingherselfagainstBridget’schest.ItwasthewayBridget’schildrenhadhuggedherwhentheywerelittle,holdingnothingback,andAngela’sbodyfeltlikeachild’s,thinandpliantandeager.

Bridgetaskedwhatkindofworkshewasdoingattheconference,andAngelawavedherhandshyly.“I’mnotworkingthesedays,”shesaid.“Theconferenceisforpeoplewhohavemyillness.”TheillnesswasonethatBridgethadneverheardof.Angeladescribedasetofdiffusesymptoms—fatigue,muscleaches,cognitiveimpairment—thatdefieddiagnosis.Doctorswereperplexed.Muchresearchstillhadtobedone.

“Whatkindofcognitiveimpairment?”Bridgetsaid.

“Oh,”Angelasaid,smiling.“I’minafogmostofthetime.”

Shedidn’tseeminafogtoBridget.Theysatdrinkingwineanddiscussingtheannoyinghabitsoftheirhusbandsandchildren,thedirtysocksleftoncouches,dishesunscrapedinthesink.Angela’ssonhadboughtafrogatapetstoreandtriedtosleepwithitinhisbed.Herhusbandwasalwaysatthehospital.He’dsuggestedthathersymptomswerepsychosomatic.

“Menalwayssaythatwomenarecrazy,”Angelasaidvehemently,“butmenhavebeeninchargeformostofhistory,andlookhowthat’sturnedout!”

“Bitchesbecrazy,”Angelawenton,shakingherheadandmakingairquotes.Bridgetdidn’tknowwhat,orwhom,shewasquoting.

Angelasighed.“Ishouldn’tcomplain,though,”shesaid.“Hekeepsusinfrogsandfreshsheets.”

Bridgetlaughedagain.Shewasenjoyingherselfmorethanshe’dexpectedto.Theyorderedanotherbottleofwine,whichAngelachosebecauseitwasorganicandsulfite-free.“Ican’ttastethedifference,”Bridgetsaid.

“You’llthankmetomorrow,”Angelasaid.

Aroundthem,thehotelswelledwithpeoplesittingalone,strokingtheirphoneswithonehandwhileeatingordrinkingwiththeother.Evenwhentheplacewasfull,itwasquiet.Byteno’clock,thebarwasemptyagainandthestreetoutsidewasdark.Itwasagovernmentcity,sedateinitsschedules.

“I’mnotsureIcandrive,”BridgetsaidtoAngela.

“Whydon’tyoucomeupstairsforawhilefirst?”

Theroomwasdecoratedinsurprisinglyoffensiveshadesofmauveandgreen.Angela’sthingswereflungeverywhere,hersuitcaseopenontheclosetfloor,handoutsfromtheday’sseminarsscatteredonthedesk,wettowelsdampeningthecarpet.Bridgetlaydownonthebed,andAngelasatnexttoher.Itseemedlovelytobethere,withherheadonAngela’slap.

“Personally,IprefertheoldWhiteHousepressroom.”

“I’msorryyou’resick,”shesaid,andAngelanodded,strokingherhair.Bridgetturnedthen,andwrappedherarmsaroundAngela’swaist.Thetwoofthemfellasleepthatway,bodytobody,flushedcheekagainstwarmleg,anembracethatwasnotaboutsexbutnotnotaboutit,either,ahungerfortouchthatwassomehowsatisfiedbythismiddledistance,thismutualunderstanding.Later,whenBridgetthoughtaboutthenightinthehotel,shewouldrememberhowAngela,downatthebar,hadsaid,withsuddensobriety,“Nobodytakescareofme,”andthenlaughed,dismissingherself-pitywithatossofherpalehair.

Theysworetokeepinbettertouch,butdidn’t.OnceAngelawasbackinVancouver,hersocial-mediaaccountstookaturnfromorganiccookingandhomedecoratingtoalternativehealthandNewAgespirituality.Shewasdoingchelationandoxygentherapy.Shesmudgedherhomewithsage.Herthinkingseemeddire.ShewaspreoccupiedwiththetensionsintheMiddleEastandbelievedthatglobalconflictwasimminent.Sheadoptedtwocatsbecauseshewantedhersontoexperienceasmuchjoyaspossiblebeforetheworldcametoanend.Butsheandhersonbothturnedouttobeallergic,and“#catproblems”accompaniedmostofherposts.

ThencameayearwhenSam—alwaysthesteadyone,theimperturbablebase—almostdiedofhearttrouble.Formonths,Bridgettookcareofhimandtheirfamily,and,whenhewasbetter,theirmarriagewasbetter,too;ithadsolidifiedunderthestress,likeabuildingsettlingonitsfoundation.Duringthistime,Bridgetrarelywentonline.Shefoundithurtfultoseeotherpeople’ssmiling,healthyfamiliesor,evenworse,tohearaboutlivesthatseemedasfragileasherown;shedidn’tneedtoberemindedthateveryone’shappinesswasinjeopardy.

Whenshecheckedbackin,Angelawasgone.Allheraccountshaddisappeared.Ane-mailsenttoherin-boxwentunanswered.Bridgetdidn’thaveherphonenumberandcouldn’tfindonelisted.Oneevening,whilethekidswereinthebasementwatchingamoviewiththeirfriends,shesatdownandwrotealetterbyhand,mailingittothelastaddressforAngelathatshecouldfind.“We’reallfinenow.Justwonderingwhat’snew.Howarethosepeskycats?”

Asshehadsomanyyearsearlier,Angelawrotebackquickly.Shenolongerhadthecats,shewrote,withalackofexplanationthatwasslightlyominous.SheandCharleshadgotdivorced,“ongoodtermsmoreorless,”andshenowlivedinalittlecottageoutsidethecity.“Alittlecottage”soundedtoBridgetlikeaeuphemismforsomething,thoughshewasn’tsurewhat.Angelahaddecidedthathersymptomswerecausedbyanallergytoelectricity,soshelivedwithoutit.Shehadawoodstoveandcandles.Shedidn’tusecomputersandwasreadingalot.“Ifeelabitbettereveryday,”shewrote,astatementthatseemedtoheralditsowncontradiction.Ofhersonshesaidlittle.

Bridgetwroteback,wishingherwell,andthecorrespondenceseemedtodieanaturaldeath;therewasnohabitualrhythminBridget’slifeforsuchletters.When,ayearlater,hercellphonelitupwithaVancouverareacode,sheassumedthatitwasAngela,butthevoicethatgreetedherwaslowandcommandingandmale.

“ThisisDr.CharlesAdebayo.Wemetatmywedding,”hesaid.

“Yes,Iremember,”Bridgetsaid,confused.Shewassittinginhercar,listeningtomusic,whileMelliefoughtherwaythroughasoccergameinterribleblusteryweather.

“Myformerwifeisill,”Charlessaid.Therewasasolemnitytohisvoicethatwashardtoreconcilewiththelaughingmanofyearsago.Itwasthevoiceofamanwho’dhadpracticespeakingaboutdifficulttopicsandknewtoprovidethemcarefulcontainment.“Shewouldlikeforyoutovisit,andIwouldlikesoaswell.”

“Isthistheelectricitything?”Bridgetasked.Shelookedoutoverthedismalsoccerfield,moremudthangrass,whereteen-agegirlswereflingingthemselvesaroundwithabandon.Melliewasheraggressivechild,aloveroftacklesandhits;Bobbyalwaysplayeddefense.Theywerebothmorewholesome,herchildren,thanshe’dhadanyrighttoexpect.

Onthephone,Charlessighed,along,softnote.“Wearenotsure,”hesaid.“Angelacontinuestobelievethatshesuffersfromelectromagnetichypersensitivity.Ibelieveshemayhaveothersignificanthealthproblems,butsherefusestoseeadoctororbetested.Wehopethatyoucanpersuadehertodoso.”

“Me?Why?”Bridgetsaid.Shefeltcapableonlyofsinglesyllables,beyondwhichtens,hundredsoflengthierquestionsloomed.

“Becauseyouareherbestfriend.”

Onthefield,Melliewentdownhard,andBridgetinvoluntarilystraightenedinherseat,butafewsecondslaterherdaughterbouncedupagain,laughing.Sheshookherankleandhigh-steppedinacircle,asifsheweredoingthehokeypokey.Andtheneveryonewasrunningagain.Bridgetcaughtherbreath,sometimes,whenshesawhowathleticherdaughterwas,howrecklesshergrace,howfullyshepossessedheryouth.

Thethinghappeninginthecar—thephonecall,theman’svoice,hisbewilderingrequest—didnotseemrealcomparedwithMellie’slopingstrideasshedeftlystoletheballandtoyedwithit,herskitteringfeetdrivingittowardthenetandthenpastthegoalie.Mellieclaspedherhandsaboveherheadandglancedoveratthecar.Bridgethonkedthehorn.Isaw.

“Areyouthere?”Charlessaid.“Thesituationmaybecritical.Werequestthatyoucomeassoonasyouareable.”

Bridgetdidn’tsay,“Ihaven’ttalkedtoAngelainyears.”Shedidn’tsay,“Iwouldhavethoughtshehadcloserfriends.”Shesimplyagreedtoanswerthesummons.

ShelandedinadrizzleofrainthatcontinuedallthewayfromtheairporttothehospitalwhereCharlesworked,obscuringthecitybehindaswishofwindshieldwipers.Trafficmovedslowly,andshesawnothingbutothercarsandahorizonlesssky.

Angela’ssonwaswaitingatthehospital,too.Hewasallganglylegsinskinnyjeans,hiseyeshalf-hiddenbeneathbangs.Charlesworeapurpleshirtandyellowtie,strangelybuoyantcolorsthatcontrastedsharplywiththegravityofhisexpression.Overtheshirtheworeawhitecoat.Hegrippedhisson’sthinshoulderwithastrengththatwasclearlybothdominantandreassuring.

TheydrankcoffeeandtalkedaboutAngela.CharlesmentionedAngela’sweightlossandher“ideation.”Theson’seyeswerepartlyclosed,asifheweretryingtofallasleep.AtlastCharleswrotedowndirectionstothecottage—“youwon’tfinditwithaG.P.S.”—andsuggestedthatshearriveintheearlymorning,whenAngelawasmosthospitable.Hedidn’texplainwhathemeantby“hospitable.”Thenheaskedhissonwhetherhehadanymessagesforhismother.Theboyshookhishead.

ThedrivetoAngela’scottagetookBridgetthroughemeraldhillsmadebrilliantbythepreviousday’srain.Thecityfellaway,thenthesuburbs,andthenshepassedthroughsmalltownswithnopostednames.TheroadCharleshadinstructedhertotakedwindledfromasphalttograveltomud,andshebegantoworrythathereconomyrentalcarwasn’tuptothetask.Herphonereceptionshranktoasinglebar.Thentheroadended.Charleshadsaid,“Youwillhavetoparkandwalk.”Shesteppedoutintowoodsthatsmelledlikefirandmushrooms,earthyandchilled,andhopedthatthetinyclearingbetweentwotreeswasthestartofatrail.Shecrashedthroughit,theloudestthingaround.Everythingelsewasstill,asifsomekindofbadmagichadblanketedtheplace.But,beforeshecouldgettooworried,shesawAngela’scottage,anormalandwell-maintainedA-framewithgeraniumsplantedinwindowboxes.

“Itisbestifyouapproachhergently,”Charleshadsaid.

Bridgetdidn’tknockonthedoor.Shestoodinfrontofthehouse,allowingherselftobeseen.Howsheknewtodothisshecouldn’thavesaid.Itwasacalculationmadeoninstinct.Therewasaflickerofmovementatawindow,andBridgetturnedinafullcircle,takinginthedenseandquietwoods,thepinebranchesdripping,thesurprisinglyrapidlydriftingclouds.Samandthekidswerevisitinghisparentsthisweekend;theyhadplannedacookoutandahorror-moviemarathonwiththecousins.Theywouldhardlythinkofher.

Behindher,thereluctantopeningofawoodendoor.

Angelastoodsilhouettedlikeagirlinafairytale.ShewaswearingjeansandaT-shirtandherblondhairwasinalongbraid,thewaysheusedtowearit.Shewasverythin.Onehandrestedonsomekindofmachine,fromwhichtubingranupherarms,underhernose,andaroundthetopofherhead.Herwholefacetwitched,eitherwithtremorsorwithanattempttosmile;Bridgetwasn’tsure.“Doyouknowme?”shesaid.

Angelanodded.Hereyeswerecloudy,marbled.“Ishouldn’tletyouin,”shesaid.“Foryourowngood.”

“I’minself-isolation.WhatIhavemaybecontagious.”

Bridgetdidn’taskwhatshehad.“Idon’tcare,”shesaid.“Iwanttoseeyou.”

Angelaturnedanddisappearedintothehouse.Theopendoorwasnotaninvitation.Bridgetspentsomemomentsstaringatthedarknesswhereherfriendhadbeen.Afterawhile,awindowaboveheropenedandasealedplasticpackagewasthrowndowntotheground.Itwasamedicalkit,which,whenshetoreitopen,turnedouttocontainasurgicalmask,plasticgloves,andshoecovers.SheputitallonobedientlyandwaiteduntilAngelacamebacktothedoorandnodded,satisfied.

BridgetfollowedAngelathroughafoyerandintoadimroom;thefarwallheldlargewindows,buttheywerecrowdedwithgreenerythatletinalmostnolight.Ashereyesadjusted,shesawthattheroomwascomfortable,withcouchesandarmchairsandawoodstoveinthecorner.Angelasettledintooneofthechairswiththemachineatherfeetlikeapet.

“Charlesmusthavecalledyou,”shesaid.Hervoicewasraspy,asthmatic,anditmadehertonehardtointerpret.

“Hedid,”Bridgetsaid.Shedidn’twanttotalkaboutCharles,didn’twantthefreightofmaritaldisagreementintheroom.Sheleanedforward,puttingherhandsonherknees,andsawherfriendrecoil.“Tellmehowyouare,”shesaid.

Angelastaredpasther.“There’salight,”shesaid.“WhenIclosemyeyesatnight,Iseeitandthinkit’swaitingforme.SometimesIthinkit’smyfather.Youknowhedied.”

“Irememberwhenyourfatherdied,”Angelasaid.Hereyesgrewsharper.“Youchangedsomuch.Ididn’tunderstandatthetime,butIdonow.”

Evenyearslater,thementionofherfathershiftedaweightinBridget’sstomach,tiltedhercenterofgravity.Thesadnessofhisdeathwasstillasinkholethatshecouldfallintoandbeswallowedby.

“Mymothergotmarriedagain,”shetoldAngela.“ToadentistnamedDennis.Dennisthedentist.Shehasthesebeautifulmovie-starteethnow.Veneers,Iguesstheyare?Sheseemshappy.Theyhaveatime-shareinFlorida.So.”

Angelabaredherownteeth,whichwerenotbeautiful,smallandbrown,littleemblemsofdecay.“Wouldyoulikesometea?”shesaid.

“Yes,”Bridgetsaid.“Let’shavetea.Yourest.I’llmakeit.”

Shehadanticipatedputtingtogetheratrayofbiscuitsorbreadandjam,brewingapotandservingitwithsugarandmilk.ButtherewasnofoodinAngela’scottage.Thecupboardsheldonlybottles:capsulesofbeepollen,vitamins,apple-cidervinegar.Nexttoateapotonthecounterwasabowlholdingwhatlookedlikeloosetealeaves;theysmelledlikemushrooms,liketheforestoutside.Sheboiledwateronthewoodstove,broughtatrayintothelivingroomwithtwocups.Angela’slegswerenowtuckedbeneathher.Herheadlolledtothesideataviolentangle,asifherneckcouldnolongersupportitsweight.Shewasasleep.

Bridgetleftthetea.Shetookoffthesurgicalmask,hikedtothecar,anddrovetotheneareststore,wheresheboughtsomerootvegetablesandriceandfruit.Backatthecottage,Angelawasstillasleepinthechair,andBridgetarrangedablanketoverherlap,tuckingitinatthesides.Thenshecookedthevegetablesandstrainedthemintoabroth.Shecookedthericetoablandpudding.Shemashedsweetpotatoesintoapurée.WhenAngelawokeup,Bridgetspoonedthebrothintohermouth,wipingawaydribbleswithateatowel.Angeladidnotobject;shepartedherlipslikeababy.Later,Bridgetmovedhertothecouch.BridgetherselfsleptinAngela’sbedupstairs,whichwasthinandnarrowandhard.Thenextday,morebroth,alittlerice.ShereadaloudtoAngelafromtheonlymaterialonhand,oldcopiesofChatelaineandtheReader’sDigestwhichmusthavebeenleftbehindbysomepreviousoccupant;shecouldn’timagineAngelabuyingthem.Shereadrecipes,“LaughterIstheBestMedicine”columns,storiesaboutbravepetsandremarkablewomen.ItwashardtotellwhetherAngelawaslistening;shemostlylaybackwithhereyesclosed,herfingersplayingidlywiththetubingofhermachine.

Onceeveningfell,BridgetlitafireinthestoveandfedAngelaagain.Whenshewasabouttogoupstairs,Angelagrabbedherhandandsaid,“Please,no.”Soshetooksomepillowsandcushionsfromthearmchairsandmadeabedforherselfonthefloor.

Inthemorning,Angela’seyeslookedbrighter.Shedisconnectedherselffromthemachinelongenoughtotakeashortwalkaroundthehouse.Afterward,theysatoutsideanddrankAngela’sterribletea,whichtastedlikemossandfeet.AngelahadallowedBridgettodispensewiththemask,sayingonly,“Isupposeyou’vebeenexposed.Ijusthopeyourimmunesystemisstrongerthanmine.”

“Doesyoursoncomeheretovisityou?”Bridgetaskedher.Shedidn’tmentionthatshehadseenhiminthecity.Angela’seyesbrimmedwithtears,andsheshookherhead.

“Butwhy?”Bridgetsaid.Aftertwonightsatthecottage,hereyesandskinached.Shecouldn’tstopthinkingabouthamburgersandredwine.ShewonderedwhatSamandthekidswereeating,watching,whatjokesthey’dbemakinglaterthatshewouldn’tunderstand.

“Bridge,”Angelasaid.Itwasasunny,windydayandherfinehairwasliftedinthebreeze,floatingupandawayasifitwantedtoescapeher.“Youmustunderstand,”shesaid.Hervoicewaspatronizing,kindandsad,asifshewereaparentexplainingdeathtoachild.“WithwhatIhave,”shesaid,“I’mpastthepointofnoreturn.”

“Comehomewithme,”Bridgetsaidimpulsively.“Stayatmyhouse.We’llwatchmoviesonthecouchandeatjunkfood.”ShecouldsenseAngelastiffenbutkeptgoing,unabletostop.“We’lldrinkwineandstayuptoolate.Youcanmeetmykids.You’lllikethem,Angela.They’llmakeyoulaugh.”

Theywereholdinghandsnow.SomegeeseflewoverheadinaV-formation,andthetreesswayedbackandforth,asifthey,too,wereseekingtouch.InoneofAngela’smagazines,Bridgethadreadanarticleaboutascientistwhohadprovedthattreescouldformakindoffriendship,twiningtheirrootstogether.Sometimesonetreewouldcurveitsbranchesawayfromtheother’s,sothatitsfriendgotenoughsuntosurvive.Angelasaidnothing,andthetreesfellsilent,too,asiftomakesurethatBridgetheardherrefusal.

Shedidn’tseeAngelaagain.Sheflewhometoherfamily,leavingthecottagestockedwithsoupsandstews,andfellgladlybackintothemadroutineofextracurricularactivitiesandconferencecallsandneighborhooddinnerparties.ForawhileshetriedtostayintouchwithCharles,butheneversoundedpleasedtohearfromher;sheunderstoodthatshehadfailedhim.HefinallyremovedAngelafromthecottagebyforce,andshespenttimeinandoutofhospitals.Shedidn’trespondtoBridget’sletters,andCharlessaidsherefusedtouseaphone.

“Howlongdoyouthinkshecangoonlikethis?”Bridgetaskedhimthelasttimetheyspoke.

“Icannothazardaguess,”hesaid,andhungup.

Bridgetstoodinherkitchen,watchingthewindtwistmapleleavesoffatreeintheyard.Thekidswereupstairsintheirrooms.Bobbywasgoingawaytocollegenextyear;Mellietheyearafterthat.Samwastravellingmoreforworkthesedays.Bridgetwouldsoonbestrippedbacktoherself.Sometimesshethoughtofthisalonenessasaluxury.Sometimesshewasafraidofit.Sometimesshesawherlifeasatenderthingthatwasseparatefromherself,atinyanimalshehadhappeneduponbychanceonedayanddecidedtoraise.Itwasterrifyingtothinkhowsmallitwas,howwild,howeasilyshecouldfititinthepalmofherhand.

作者：AlixOhlin

来源：纽约客（2017.01.30）

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