《The English Patient》第58章

rotect　her；　who　will　never　deceive　her。　
there　are　a　hundred　deities　associated　with　animals；　i　tell　her。　there　are　the　ones　linked　to　jackals—anubis；　duamutef；　wepwawet。　these　are　creatures　who　guide　you　into　the　afterlife—as　my　early　ghost　acpanied　you；　those　years　before　we　met。　all　those　parties　in　london　and　oxford。　watching　you。　i　sat　across　from　you　as　you　did　schoolwork；　holding　a　large　pencil。　i　was　there　when　you　met　geoffrey　clifton　at　two　a。m。　in　the　oxford　union　library。　everybody’s　coats　were　strewn　on　the　floor　and　you　in　your　bare　feet　like　some　heron　picking　your　way　among　them。　he　is　watching　you　but　i　am　watching　you　too；　though　you　miss　my　presence；　ignore　me。　you　are　at　an　age　when　you　see　only　good…looking　men。　you　are　not　yet　aware　of　those　outside　your　sphere　of　grace。　the　jackal　is　not　used　much　at　oxford　as　an　escort。　whereas　i　am　the　man　who　fasts　until　i　see　what　i　want。　the　wall　behind　you　is　covered　in　books。　your　left　hand　holds　a　long　loop　of　pearls　that　hangs　fromyour　neck。　your　bare　feet　picking　their　way　through。　you　are　looking　for　something。　you　were　more　plump　in　those　days；　though　aptly　beautiful　for　university　life。　
there　are　three　of　us　in　the　oxford　union　library；　but　you　find　only　geoffrey　clifton。　it　will　be　a　whirlwind　romance。　he　has　some　job　with　archaeologists　in　north　africa；　of　all　places。　“a　strange　old　coot　i’m　working　with。”　your　mother　is　quite　delighted　at　your　adventure。　
but　the　spirit　of　the　jackal；　who　was　the　“opener　of　the　ways；”　whose　name　was　wepwawet　or　almasy；　stood　in　the　room　with　the　two　of　you。　my　arms　folded；　watching　your　attempts　at　enthusiastic　small　talk；　a　problem　as　you　both　were　drunk。　but　what　was　wonderful　was　that　even　within　the　drunkenness　of　two　a。m。；　each　of　you　somehow　recognized　the　more　permanent　worth　and　pleasure　of　the　other。　you　may　have　arrived　with　others；　will　perhaps　cohabit　this　night　with　others；　but　both　of　you　have　found　your　fates。　
at　three　a。m。　you　feel　you　must　leave；　but　you　are　unable　to　find　one　shoe。　you　hold　the　other　in　your　hand；　a　rose…coloured　slipper。　i　see　one　half　buried　near　me　and　pick　it　up。　the　sheen　of　it。　they　are　obviously　favourite　shoes；　with　the　indentation　of　your　toes。　thank　you；　you　say　accepting　it；　as　you　leave；　not　even　looking　at　my　face。　
i　believe　this。　when　we　meet　those　we　fall　in　love　with；　there　is　an　aspect　of　our　spirit　that　is　historian；　a　bit　of　a　pedant；　who　imagines　or　remembers　a　meeting　when　the　other　had　passed　by　innocently；　just　as　clifton　might　have　opened　a　car　door　for　you　a　year　earlier　and　ignored　the　fate　of　his　life。　but　all　parts　of　the　body　must　be　ready　for　the　other；　all　atoms　must　jump　in　one　direction　for　desire　to　occur。　
i　have　lived　in　the　desert　for　years　and　i　have　e　to　believe　in　such　things。　it　is　a　place　of　pockets。　the　trompe　’oeil　of　time　and　water。　the　jackal　with　one　eye　that　looks　back　and　one　that　regards　the　path　you　consider　taking。　in　his　jaws　are　pieces　of　the　past　he　delivers　to　you；　and　when　all　of　that　time　is　fully　discovered　it　will　prove　to　have　been　already　known。　
her　eyes　looked　at　me；　tired　of　everything。　a　terrible　weariness。　when　i　pulled　her　from　the　plane　her　stare　had　tried　to　receive　all　things　around　her。　now　the　eyes　were　guarded；　as　if　protecting　something　inside。　i　moved　closer；　and　sat　on　my　heels。　i　leaned　forward　and　put　my　tongue　against　the　right　blue　eye；　a　taste　of　salt。　pollen。　i　carried　that　taste　to　her　mouth。　then　the　other　eye。　my　tongue　against　the　fine　porousness　of　the　eyeball；　wiping　off　the　blue；　when　i　moved　back　there　was　a　sweep　of　white　across　her　gaze。　i　parted　the　lips　on　her　mouth；　this　time　i　let　the　fingers　go　in　deeper　and　prised　the　teeth　apart；　the　tongue　was　“withdrawn；”　and　i　had　to　pull　it　forward；　there　was　a　thread；　a　breath　of　death　in　her。　it　was　almost　too　late。　i　leaned　forward　and　with　my　tongue　carried　the　blue　pollen　to　her　tongue。　we　touched　this　way　once。　
nothing　happened。　i　pulled　back；　took　a　breath　and　then　went　forward　again。　as　i　met　the　tongue　there　was　a　twitch　within　it。　
then　the　terrible　snarl；　violent　and　intimate；　came　out　of　her　upon　me。　a　shudder　through　her　whole　body　like　a　path　of　electricity。　she　was　flung　from　the　propped　position　against　the　painted　wall。　the　creature　had　entered　her　and　it　leapt　and　fell　against　me。　there　seemed　to　be　less　and　less　light　in　the　cave。　her　neck　flipping　this　way　and　that。　
i　know　the　devices　of　a　demon。　i　was　taught　as　a　child　about　the　demon　lover。　i　was　told　about　a　beautiful　temptress　who　came　to　a　young　man’s　room。　and　he；　if　he　were　wise；　would　demand　that　she　turn　around；　because　demons　and　witches　have　no　back；　only　what　they　wish　to　present　to　you。　what　had　i　done？　what　animal　had　i　delivered　into　her？　i　had　been　speaking　to　her　i　think　for　over　an　hour。　had　i　been　her　demon　lover？　had　i　been　madox’s　demon　friend？　this　country—had　i　charted　it　and　turned　it　into　a　place　of　war？
it　is　important　to　die　in　holy　places。　that　was　one　of　the　secrets　of　the　desert。　so　madox　walked　into　a　church　in　somerset；　a　place　he　felt　had　lost　its　holiness；　and　he　mitted　what　he　believed　was　a　holy　act。　
when　i　turned　her　around；　her　whole　body　was　covered　in　bright　pigment。　herbs　and　stones　and　light　and　the　ash　of　acacia　to　make　her　eternal。　the　body　pressed　against　sacred　colour。　only　the　eye　blue　removed；　made　anonymous；　a　naked　map　where　nothing　is　depicted；　no　signature　of　lake；　no　dark　cluster　of　mountain　as　there　is　north　of　the　borkou…ennedi…tibesti；　no　lime…green　fan　where　the　nile　rivers　enter　the　open　palm　of　alexandria；　the　edge　of　africa。　
and　all　the　names　of　the　tribes；　the　nomads　of　faith　who　walked　in　the　monotone　of　the　desert　and　saw　brightness　and　faith　and　colour。　the　way　a　stone　or　found　metal　box　or　bone　can　bee　loved　and　turn　eternal　in　a　prayer。　such　glory　of　this　country　she　enters　now　and　bees　part　of。　we　die　containing　a　richness　of　lovers　and　tribes；　tastes　we　have　swallowed；　bodies　we　have　plunged　into　and　swum　up　as　if　rivers　of　wisdom；　characters　we　have　climbed　into　as　if　trees；　fears　we　have　hidden　in　as　if　caves。　i　wish　for　all　this　to　be　marked　on　my　body　w