cw.blackalibi-第6部分

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nt　impetus　to　start　her　toward　the　door。　Tonight　it　failed　to。　Next　she　picked　it　up　and　brandished　it。　Even　that　failed。　She　finally　was　driven　to　actually　swinging　it　at　the　recalcitrant　one's　calves　in　order　to　drive　her　before　her。　Even　this　was　a　partial　failure。　The　girl　simply　moved　nimbly　from　side　to　side；　but　gave　very　little　ground。　Most　of　the　light　passes　struck　emptily　against　the　wall；　the　girl　avoiding　being　in　the　way　each　time。
　　There　was　always　reluctance；　dilatoriness；　strife；　whenever　any　question　of　going　out　on　an　errand　arose。　But　tonight　there　was　more　than　that。　There　was　a　deadlock；　a　form　of　passive　resistance。　Such　opposition　had　never　before　been　met　with。　Something　stronger　than　fear　of　her　mother's　light　broom　whacks　seemed　to　be　holding　the　girl　back。
　　She　crouched　in　implicit　unwillingness　against　the　wall；　large　brilliant　black　eyes　fixed　imploringly；　yet　inscrutably；　on　her　mother　the　whole　time　she　continued　to　side…step　the　broom's　corrective　promptings。　She　was　fairly　tall　for　her　age；　and　particularly　her　racial　antecedents；　already　full…grown　in　height　if　not　yet　in　girth。　She　was　about　eighteen　or　seventeen。　Or　perhaps　sixteen；　they　didn't　keep　very　strict　count　of　ages　in　this　household。　Her　skin　was　the　pale　gold　of　wheat；　but　would　probably　darken　slightly　as　she　grew　older。　She　had　donned　a　rebozo…the　ubiquitous　head　covering　of　lower…class　Latin　American　girls　and　women…as　a　first　step　toward　going　out；　but　beyond　that　one　preliminary　she　seemed　unwilling　or　incapable　of　going。
　　Her　mother　began　to　poke　the　broom　forward　at　her　now；　its　broadside　swipes　having　failed　of　effect。　She　was　shrilly　denunciatory　as　she　did　so。　〃Three　times　I　have　asked　you　already！　Will　you　go？〃　She　lunged。　〃Has　any　other　woman　in　town　got　such　trouble　with　her　children？　Why　do　you　afflict　me　like　this；　Teresa？　What　is　it　that　has　gotten　into　you　tonight？　Is　it　so　much　to　ask　you　to　bring　back　a　little　charcoal　from　the　tienda；　that　your　poor　father　may　find　his　food　hot　when　he　es　back　from　working　hard？　You　could　have　been　there　and　back　already；　twice　over！〃
　　〃　Madrecita；〃　the　girl　implored　dolorously；　〃why　can't　Pedro　go　for　a　change？　I　work　all　day　in　the　laundry　and　I'm　tired。〃
　　〃Pedro　can't　be　trusted　to　go；　and　you　know　it。　He　throws　the　money　up　in　the　air　all　the　way　there；　and　then　the　first　thing　you　know　he　loses　it。〃
　　〃Why　can't　you　use　sticks　or　papers　until　tomorrow？　Why　do　I　have　to　go　now？〃
　　〃Is　paper　charcoal？　How　long　does　it　last？　It　flames　and　then　it's　gone！〃　This　reminded　her。　She　desisted　momentarily　from　her　broom　cudgeling　to　waddle　back　to　the　russet…tiled　brasero　she　had　quitted　some　time　before。　She　snatched　up　a　palm…leaf　fan；　jerked　aside　an　earthenware　receptacle；　and　anxiously　fanned　the　orifice　thus　exposed　until　it　had　begun　to　glow　a　dull　red　again　from　below。　〃See　that？〃　she　said　accusingly。　〃It's　going　down　already！　If　it　goes　out…〃
　　She　rushed　back　for　the　broom；　this　time　bent　on　inflicting　the　final　stage　of　chastisement；　all　else　having　failed：　an　actual　belaboring　about　the　shoulders。　In　the　face　of　this　onset；　the　girl　at　last　retreated　as　far　as　the　doorway　itself；　but　then　she　still　hovered　there；　as　though　hoping　against　hope　to　win　some　miraculous　last…minute　reprieve。
　　A　small　boy　of　nine　or　ten；　the　aforementioned　Pedro；　pulled　his　face　out　of　a　bowl　it　had　been　buried　in　until　now　and　remarked　jeeringly：　〃I　know　what　she's　afraid　of。　She's　afraid　of　the　jaguar。〃
　　The　girl　flashed　him　a　parenthetic　look　that　was　an　admission。　Then；　as　though　the　first　reference　to　it；　by　ing　from　someone　else；　had　been　enough　to　free　her　own　powers　of　expression　at　long　last；　she　began　to　importune　her　mother；　in　a　half…eager；　half…bated　voice：　〃They　say　there's　one　around　somewhere。　They　say　a　rich　lady　had　it　on　a　string；　and　it　got　away　and　it　hasn't　been　found　yet。　I　heard　the　girls　talking　about　it　in　the　laundry　today…〃
　　The　broom　was　arrested　only　momentarily。　〃A　jaguar？　What's　that；　one　of　those　things　they　have　in　the　mountains？〃
　　〃They're　big　and　they　jump　on　you；〃　said　the　impish　Pedro；　with　a　sidelong　look　at　his　sister　that　showed　what　prompted　him　to　make　the　remark。
　　The　Seсora　Delgado　wasn't　having　any　of　this　nonsense。　She　was　too　hard…working　and　careworn　to　take　into　account　anything　not　of　and　within　her　daily　toil　and　habits。　〃Did　you　ever　meet　one　of　those　things　yet　when　you　went　to　the　tienda　for　me？〃　she　bellowed。
　　The　girl　swallowed；　shook　her　head　mutely。
　　〃Then　you　won't　meet　one　this　time　either！　Now　get　Out！　Do　as　I　told　you！〃　And　she　gave　the　broom　such　a　backward　swing　of　final　purpose　that　the　girl　disengaged　the　door　behind　her　and　slunk　out　backwards；　big　liquid　black　eyes；　still　futilely　pleading；　the　last　to　go。
　　The　exasperated　Seсora　Delgado　laid　her　broom　aside　and　returned　to　her　interrupted　duties；　grumbling　darkly　and　shaking　her　head。　But　a　moment　later　the　door　had　stealthily　reopened　and　the　girl　was　attempting　to　sidle　in　again　unnoticed　behind　her　back。
　　She　caught　her　just　in　time；　made　a　tempestuous　start　in　that　direction；　but　the　door　had　closed　a　second　time　before　she　was　able　to　reach　it；　and　the　girl　was　once　more　outside。
　　The　Seсora　Delgado　took　care　of　that　by　driving　the　mid…section　bolt　home；　not　without　a　great　deal　of　difficulty。　It　was　rusted　from　lack　of　use。　It　probably　hadn't　been　driven　home　into　its　socket　for　years　past。　Their　door　was　never　barred；　there　was　nothing　in　the　place　that　anyone　would　have　cared　to　make　off　with。　Flakes　of　scabrous　rust　fell　off　the　bolt　and　a　little　cloud　of　dust　winged　up　as　she　finally　jammed　it　all　the　way　in；　by　main　force；　and　pelled　to　use　both　her　sculpturesque　forearms　to　master　it。
　　Then　she　shook　her　hand　at　the　sightless　wooden　barrier。　〃Now　you'll　stay　out　there　until　you've　done　my　bidding！　You　won't　get　in　again　until　you've　brought　that　charcoal　back　with　you！〃
　　Outside　the　girl　cowered　for　a　moment　in　the　shelter　of　the　set…in　doorway。　She　gave　her　rebozo　a　tightening　pluck　over　her　mouth。　That　was　to　ward　off　the　night　air；　known　to　be　unhealthful；　keep　it　out　of　her　nostrils　and　breathing　passages。　Only　strangers；　Americans　and　such；　braved　it。　She　peered　cautiously　up　one　way　and　down　the　other；　along　the　grubby；　uptilted　little　slum　lane　her　house　faced。　Not　straight；　but　gradually　curving。　No　sidewalks；　just　a　middle　of　the　way。　A　single　wan　lamppost　gleamed　dismally　at　the　far　end　of　it；　leaving　the　rest　in　shadow。　But　she　had　to　go　down　the　other　way；　where　there　wasn't　any。　There　wasn't　a　soul　to　be　seen　anywhere　on　it。　They　were　all　indoors　already　at　this　hour。　They　worked　too　hard　around　here。　To　stay　out　at　night；　that　was　for　the　rich。　On　a　night　of　fiesta；　that　was　different。　Or　for　the　head　of　the　house　to　step　down　to　the　cantina　for　a　few　hours；　that　also　was　a　different　matter。　Even　while　there　they　were　not　Out　Ofl　the　street　itself；　they　were　indoors。
　　Well；　it　wasn't　far。　She　couldn't　get　in　again　until　she'd　fetched　it；　so　the　quicker　she　did；　the　better。　She　struck　out　boldly　from　the　doorway；　moved　down　the　middle　of　the　road；　arms　tightly　clasping　her　sides　under　the　ends　of　her　rebozo；　eyes　watchfully　going　from　side　to　side　in　the　oval　gap　it　left　for　her　face。
　　She　rounded　the　sort　of　blunted　corner　the　alley　made　in　turning　in　to　join　the　next　one　below。　For　a　moment　she　could　glimpse　the　diluted；　tawny　light　shining　out　from　the　inside　of　the　tienda；　down　there　ahead　of　her。　This　new　thoroughfare　continued　the　steady　downward　course　her　own　had　maintained。　This　whole　quarter　of　the　city　had　been　built　down　a　slope　leading　to　the　dried…up　bed　of　what　had　once　been　a　river。
　　But　right　while　she　sighted　it；　as　though　it　had　only　been　waiting　long　enough　for　her　to　identify　it；　it　went　out。　Old　lady　Calderуn　had　closed　up　for　the　night。　No　system　of　clock　entered　into　this；　she　couldn't；　as　a　matter　of　fact；　read　one；　and　didn't　have　one；　any　more　than　any　of　the　rest　of　them　did。　She　closed　up　whenever　there　had　been　a　long…enough　lapse　after　the　last　customer　to　suggest　that　there　weren't　going　to　be　any　more　that　night。　Thus　one　night　she　m