ericlustbader.the ninja-第4节
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'I loathe New York in the summer；' she told him the next afternoon over drinks。 'Do you know that I once spent the entire summer in my apartment with the air conditioning on full and never once moving out of the door？ I was deathly afraid I'd get overwhelmed by the stench of dogshit。 I'd call D'Agostino and have them send up the food and； once or twice a week； the office would send up this big brawny fag … who was doing the director under the desk during coffee breaks … to take my designs and bring me my cheques。 But even with that； it wasn't enough and I was forced out。 I threw some stuff in a bag and took the first flight out to Paris。 I stayed two weeks while the office went batshit looking for me。' She turned her head half away from him； sipping at her Manhattan。 'However； when I got back； the only thing that had really changed was mat the fag was gone。'
The sun was ing down； the sea devouring its crimson bulk； colour lay shimmering on the water。 Then； quite abruptly； it was dark： not even the little lights bobbing far out to sea。
It was like that with her； he reflected。 Brilliant colour； stories on the surface； but what lay beneath； in the night？
'You're not going back to Columbia；' she said； 'in the fall。'
'No； I'm not。'
She said nothing； sat back on the Haitian cotton couch； her slender arms spread wide along the back； they went out of the pools of lamplight； seemed dark wings； hovering。 Then she cocked her head to one side and it seemed to him as if the icefloe had cracked； ing apart。
'I fell in love with the campus；' he said； deciding to answer her by starting at the beginning。 'Of course； it was the be…ginning of February； but I could imagine the red brick walkways lined with flowering magnolia and dogwood； quince in among the ancient oaks。
〃The course itself … Sources of Oriental Thought … wasn't really too bad at all。 The students at least were inquisitive and； when awake； fairly bright … some of them startlingly so。 They seemed surprised that I was interested in them。
'I was curious about this； at first； but as the semester wore on； I came to understand what it was all about。 The other professors giving the course had appallingly little time to devote to the students； they were extremely busy researching their latest books。 And when they were actually teaching； they treated their students with contempt。
'I remember sitting in on a class just after mid…term。 Drs Eng and Royston； who taught the meat of the course； announced at the beginning of the session that the mid…term papers had been graded and were ready to be returned。 Royston then proceeded to give his lecture。 When the bell rang； Eng asked the students to remain seated and； with perfect precision； laid out four piles of papers on the floor at the front of the hall。 〃Those students with last names beginning with letters A through F will find their papers here；〃 he said； pointing to the pile on his right。 And so on。 Then they had both turned away and left the hall before the first students even had time to kneel； scrabbling through the piles。
'It was degrading；' Nicholas said。 'That kind of lack of respect for another human being is something I just cannot tolerate。'
'So you liked teaching。'
He thought that a curious thing to say。 'I didn't mind it。' He made himself another gin and tonic； squeezed a section of lemon before dropping it into the ice…filled glass。 'In the end it was the other professors who made the semester seem long to me。 I don't imagine they thought too much of me。 After all； the halls of academe are rather closed。 Everyone there is bound by the stringency of the situation。 〃Publish or perish〃 has bee a cliché； I suppose。 But for them it's a reality which they must face every day。〃 He shrugged。 'I imagine they resented my status。 I had all the best parts of their life without any of the responsibilities。'
'And Royston and Eng。 What were they like？'
'Oh； Royston was okay； I suppose。 Rather stuffy in the beginning but…he thawed a bit later on。 But Eng' … he shook his head … 'Eng was a bastard all right。 He had made up his mind about me before we had…even been introduced。 The three of us happened to he in the lounge one afternoon。 〃So you were born in Singapore；〃 he said。 Just like that。 Standing over me； peering down at me through his round wire…rimmed spectacles。 That's what they must have been； they were far too old…fashioned to be called glasses。 He had a curious manner of speech； his words emerging clipped； almost frozen； so that you could imagine them hanging in mid…air like icicles。 〃A disgusting city； if you will pardon my saying so。 Built by the British； who had no more regard for the Chinese than they did for the Indians。〃'
'What did you say？'
'Frankly； I was too stunned to say much of anything；' he said gloomily。 'The bastard had hardly said two words to me all semester。 He took me quite by surprise。'
'You had no snappy rejoinder。'
'Only that he was wrong。 I was conceived there。' He put down his glass。 'I asked Dean Whoolson about it subsequently but he merely brushed it off。 〃Eng's a …genius；〃 was how he put it。 〃And you know how that sort is sometimes。 I must tell you； we are damn lucky to have him here。 He almost went to Harvard but we snared him at the last moment。 Convinced him of the superiority of our research facilities。〃 He patted me on the back as if I were the department mascot。 〃Who ever knows with Eng？〃 he said。 〃Perhaps he thought you were Malay。 We all must make allowances； Mr Linnear。〃'
'I don't understand that；' Justine said。 'You're not Malay； are you？'
'No； but if Eng thought I was； he might have reason to dislike me。 The Chinese and the Malays were constantly at each other's throats in the Singapore area。 No love lost there。'
'What are you？' She seemed abruptly quite close to him； her eyes enormous and very luminous。 'There's an Asian hint in your face； I think。 In your eyes perhaps； or in the height of your cheekbones。'
'My father was English；' he said。 'A Jew who was forced to change his name so that he could get ahead in business and then； during the war； in the Army。 He was a colonel。'
'What was his name？ Before he changed it； I mean。'
'I don't know。 He wouldn't tell me。 〃Nicholas；〃 he said to me one day； 〃what's in a name？ The man who tells you that there is some significance in his name is a bare…faced liar。〃 '
'But weren't you ever curious about it？'
'Oh yes。 For a time。 But after a while I gave up looking。'
'And your mother？'
'Ah。 That would depend on whom you spoke to。 She always maintained that she was pureblood。 Chinese。'
'But；' Justine prompted。
'But in all likelihood she was only half Chinese。 The other half was probably Japanese。' He shrugged。 'Not that I was ever certain。 It's just that she seemed always to think like a Japanese。' He smiled。 'Anyway； I am a romantic and it's far more exciting to think of her as a mixture。 An unusual mixture given the mutual animosity historically between the two peoples。 More mysterious。'
'And you like mysteries。'
He watched the sweep of her dark hair； sliding across one cheek； hiding the eye with the crimson motes。 'In a sense。 。 Yes。'
'Your features are all Caucasian；' she said； abruptly switching topics。
'Yes；' Nicholas said。 'Physically I take after my father； the Colonel。' He put his head back on the couch； his hair touching her outstretched fingers for a moment before she moved them back； curling them into a fist。 He stared up at the patterned pools of light playing upon the ceiling。 'Inside； though； I am my mother's son。'
Doc Deerforth never looked forward to the summer。 This was a curious thing； he thought； because it was invariably his busiest time。 The influx from the city never ceased to astound him； the migratory pattern of almost the entire Upper East Side of Manhattan； as fixed and precise as the geese flying their arrowhead formations south in the winter。
Not that Doc Deerforth knew all that much about Manhattan； not these days； at least； he had not set foot in that madhouse in over five years and then it had been only to pay a brief visit to his friend Nate Graumann； New York City's Chief Medical Examiner。
He was quite content to be out here。 He had his daughters who； with their own families； visited him regularly … his wife had died of leukemia over ten years ago； turned to a faded photo … and his work as doctor in West Bay Bridge。 Then there was his ancillary M。E。 work for Flower at Hauppauge。 They liked him there because he was thorough and inventive； Flower kept asking him if he would e to work for the Suffolk County M。E。 but he was much too happy where he was。 There were friends here； plentiful and warm but； most of all； he had himself。 He found that； essentially； he was happy with himself。 That did not stop the occasional nightmare； however； from creeping through like a clandestine burglar on the loose。 He would still wake up； drenched in sweat； the damp sheets twisted clammily about his legs。 Some nights he would dream of white blood but he dreamed of other things as well； dream symbols of his personal fright。 At those times he would get up and pad silently into the kitchen； making himself a cup of hot cocoa； and would read； at random； from on
