the notebook-恋恋笔记本(英文版)-第24部分

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She　doesn't　believe　me。　〃They're　staring　at　me。　You　can't　see　them？〃

〃No；〃　I　say；　and　she　thinks　for　a　moment。

〃Well；　they're　right　there；〃　she　says；　〃and　they're　staring　at　me。〃

With　that；　she　begins　to　talk　to　herself；　and　moments　later；　when　I　try　to　fort　her；　she　flinches　with　wide　eyes。

〃Who　are　you？〃　she　cries　in　panic；　her　face　being　whiter。　〃What　are　you　doing　here？〃　She　backs　away　from　me；　her　hands　in　a　defensive　position；　and　then　she　says　the　most　heartbreaking　words　of　all。　〃Go　away！　Stay　away　from　me！〃　She　is　pushing　the　gnomes　away　from　her；　terrified；　oblivious　of　my　presence。

I　stand　and　cross　the　room　to　her　bed。　I　am　weak　now；　my　legs　ache；　and　there　is　a　strange　pain　in　my　side。　It　is　a　struggle　to　press　the　button　to　call　the　nurses；　for　my　fingers　are　throbbing　and　seem　frozen　together；　but　I　finally　succeed。　They　will　be　here　soon　now；　I　know；　and　I　wait　for　them。

I　sit　by　the　bed　with　an　aching　back　and　start　to　cry　as　I　pick　up　the　notebook。　I　am　tired　now；　so　I　sit；　alone　and　apart　from　my　wife。　And　when　the　nurses　e　in　they　see　two　people　they　must　fort。　A　woman　shaking　in　fear　and　the　old　man　who　loves　her　more　deeply　than　life　itself　crying　softly　in　the　corner；　his　face　in　his　hands。

BY　THE　following　week；　my　life　had　pretty　much　returned　to　normal。　Or　at　least　as　normal　as　my　life　could　be。　Reading　to　Allie；　who　was　unable　to　recognize　me　at　any　time；　reading　to　others；　wandering　the　halls。　Lying　awake　at　night　and　sitting　by　my　heater　in　the　morning。　I　found　a　strange　fort　in　the　predictability　of　my　life。

On　a　cool；　foggy　morning　eight　days　after　she　and　I　had　spent　our　day　together；　I　woke　early；　as　is　my　custom；　and　pottered　around　my　desk；　alternately　looking　at　photographs　and　reading　letters　written　many　years　before。　At　least　I　tried　to。　I　couldn't　concentrate　too　well　because　I　had　a　headache；　so　I　put　them　aside　and　went　to　sit　in　my　chair　by　the　window　to　watch　the　sun　e　up。　Allie　would　be　awake　in　a　couple　of　hours；　I　knew；　and　I　wanted　to　be　refreshed；　for　reading　all　day　would　only　make　my　head　hurt　more。

I　closed　my　eyes　for　a　few　minutes　then；　opening　them；　I　watched　my　old　friend；　the　creek；　roll　by　my　window。　Unlike　Allie　I　had　been　given　a　room　where　I　could　see　it；　and　it　has　never　failed　to　inspire　me。　It　is　a　contradiction　this　creek—a　hundred　thousand　years　old　but　renewed　with　each　rainfall。　It　is　life；　I　think；　to　watch　the　water。　A　man　can　learn　so　many　things。

It　happened　as　I　sat　in　the　chair；　just　as　the　sun　peeped　over　the　horizon。　My　hand；　I　noticed；　started　to　tingle；　something　it　had　never　done　before。　I　started　to　lift　it；　but　I　was　forced　to　stop　when　my　head　pounded　again；　this　time　hard；　almost　as　if　I　had　been　hit　in　the　head　with　a　hammer。　I　closed　my　eyes　tightly。　My　hand　stopped　tingling　and　began　to　go　numb；　as　if　my　nerves　had　been　severed　somewhere　on　my　lower　arm。　A　shooting　pain　rocked　my　head　and　seemed　to　flow　down　my　neck　and　into　every　cell　of　my　body；　like　a　tidal　wave；　crushing　and　wasting　everything　in　its　path。

I　lost　my　sight　and　I　heard　what　sounded　like　a　train　roaring　inches　from　my　head；　and　I　knew　that　I　was　having　a　stroke。　The　pain　coursed　through　my　body　like　a　lightning　bolt；　and　in　my　last　remaining　moments　of　consciousness　I　pictured　Allie；　lying　in　her　bed；　waiting　for　the　story　I　would　never　read；　lost　and　confused；　pletely　and　totally　unable　to　help　herself。

I　WAS　UNCONSCIOUS　on　and　off　for　days；　and　in　those　moments　when　I　was　awake　I　found　myself　hooked　to　machines；　two　bags　of　fluid　hanging　near　the　bed。　I　could　hear　the　faint　hum　of　machines；　sometimes　making　sounds　I　could　not　recognize；　and　found　myself　lulled　to　never…never　land　time　and　time　again。

I　could　see　the　concern　in　the　doctors'　faces　as　they　scanned　the　charts　and　adjusted　the　machines。　Grim　faces　would　prelude　their　predictions—〃loss　of　speech；　loss　of　movement；　paralysis。〃　Another　chart　notation；　another　beep　of　a　strange　machine；　and　they'd　leave；　never　knowing　I　heard　every　word。　I　tried　not　to　think　of　these　things　afterwards；　but　instead　concentrated　on　Allie；　bringing　a　picture　of　her　to　my　mind　whenever　I　could。　I　tried　to　feel　her　touch；　hear　her　voice；　and　when　I　did　tears　would　fill　my　eyes　because　I　didn't　know　if　I　would　be　able　to　hold　her　again。　This　was　not　how　I'd　imagined　it　would　end。　I'd　always　assumed　I　would　go　last。

I　drifted　in　and　out　of　consciousness　for　days　until　another　foggy　morning　when　my　promise　to　Allie　spurred　my　body　once　again。　I　opened　my　eyes　and　saw　a　room　full　of　flowers；　and　their　scent　motivated　me　further。　I　looked　for　the　buzzer；　struggled　to　press　it；　and　a　nurse　arrived　thirty　seconds　later；　followed　closely　by　Dr。　Barnwell。

〃I'm　thirsty；〃　I　said　with　a　raspy　voice；　and　Dr。　Barnwell　smiled　broadly。

〃Wele　back；〃　he　said；　〃I　knew　you'd　make　it。〃

TWO　WEEKS　LATER　I　am　able　to　leave　the　hospital；　though　I　am　only　half　a　man　now。　The　right　side　of　my　body　is　weaker　than　the　left。　This；　they　tell　me；　is　good　news；　for　the　paralysis　could　have　been　total。　Sometimes；　it　seems；　I　am　surrounded　by　optimists。

The　bad　news　is　that　my　hands　prevent　me　from　using　either　my　cane　or　wheelchair；　so　I　must　march　now　to　my　own　unique　cadence　to　keep　upright。　Not　left…right…left　as　in　my　youth；　or　even　the　shuffle…shuffle　of　late；　but　rather　slow…shuffle；　slide…the…right；　slow…shuffle。　I　am　on　an　epic　adventure　now　when　I　travel　the　halls。

　When　I　return　to　my　room；　I　know　I　will　not　sleep。　I　breathe　deeply　and　smell　the　springtime　fragrances　that　filter　through　the　open　window。　There　is　a　slight　chill　in　the　air　and　I　find　that　I　am　invigorated　by　the　change　in　temperature。　Evelyn；　one　of　the　many　nurses　here；　helps　me　to　the　chair　by　the　window。　She　puts　her　hand　on　my　shoulder　and　pats　it　gently。　She　says　nothing；　and　by　her　silence　I　know　that　she　is　staring　out　of　the　window。　Then　she　leans　forward　and　tenderly　kisses　me　on　the　cheek。

〃It's　good　to　have　you　back。　Allie's　missed　you　and　so　have　the　rest　of　us。　We　were　all　praying　for　you　because　it's　just　not　the　same　around　here　when　you're　gone。〃　She　smiles　at　me　and　touches　my　face　before　she　leaves。　I　say　nothing。

The　stars　are　out　tonight　and　the　crickets　are　singing。　As　I　sit；　I　wonder　if　anyone　outside　can　see　me；　this　prisoner　of　flesh。　I　search　the　courtyard；　looking　for　signs　of　life；　but　there　is　nothing。　Even　the　creek　is　still。　In　the　darkness　it　looks　like　empty　space　and　I　find　that　I'm　drawn　to　its　mystery。　I　watch　for　hours；　and　as　I　do　I　see　the　reflection　of　clouds　on　the　water。　A　storm　is　ing　and　in　time　the　sky　will　turn　silver；　like　dusk　again。

Lightning　cuts　the　wild　sky　and　I　feel　my　mind　drift　back。　Who　are　we；　Allie　and　I？　Are　we　ancient　ivy　on　a　cypress　tree；　tendrils　and　branches　intertwined　so　closely　that　we　would　both　die　if　we　were　forced　apart？　Another　bolt　and　the　table　beside　me　is　lit　enough　to　enable　me　to　see　a　picture　of　Allie；　the　best　one　I　have。　I　had　it　framed　years　ago　in　the　hope　that　the　glass　would　make　it　last　for　ever。　I　reach　for　it　and　hold　it　inches　from　my　face。　She　was　forty…one　when　it　was　taken；　and　she　had　never　been　more　beautiful。　There　are　so　many　things　I　want　to　ask　her；　but　I　know　the　picture　won't　answer；　so　I　put　it　aside。

I　finally　stand　and　walk　to　my　desk　and　turn　on　the　lamp。　This　takes　more　effort　than　I　think　it　will；　and　I　am　strained；　so　I　do　not　return　to　the　window　seat。　I　sit　down　and　spend　a　few　minutes　looking　at　the　pictures　on　my　desk。　Family　pictures；　pictures　of　children　and　vacations。　Pictures　of　Allie　and　me。

Since　this　seems　to　be　a　night　of　memories；　I　look　for　and　find　my　wedding　ring。　It　is　in　the　top　drawer；　wrapped　in　tissue。　I　cannot　wear　it　any　more　because　my　knuckles　are　swollen　and　my　fingers　lack　for　blood。　I　unwrap　the　tissue　and　find　it　unchanged。　It　is　powerful—a　symbol；　a　circle—and　I　know；　I　know；　there　could　never　have　been　another。　I　whisper　aloud；　〃I　am　still　yours；　Allie；　my　queen；　my　timeless　beauty。　You　are；　and　always　have　been；　the　best　thing　in　my　life。〃

It　is　eleven　thirty　and　I　look　for　the　letter　she　wrote　to　me；　the　one　I　read　when　the　mood　strikes　me。　I　find　it　where　I　last　left　it。　I　open　it　and