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4 4 INT. KITCHEN - LATER
Sitting at the kitchen table, Carolyn is in the middle of reading the letter to Michael. CAROLYN "-- going over and over in my mind every detail, every moment of our time together and I ask myself, "What happened to me in Madison County?" I struggle to put it together in a way that allows me to continue knowing we're on separate roads. But then I look through the lens of my camera, and you're there. I start to write an article and I find myself writing it to you. It's clear to me now we have been moving towards each other, towards those four days, all our lives -- MICHAEL (rises) Goddamn sonofabitch! I don't want to hear anymore! Sonofabitch! Burn the damn thing! I don't want to hear it! Throw it away! Carolyn continues reading silently. Michael's curiosity gets the best of him: MICHAEL What's he saying now? CAROLYN Well, he just gets on about how if mama ever needed him, she could find him through the National Geographic magazine. He as a photographer. He promises not to write again. Then all it says is... (beat) I love you... Robert. MICHAEL Robert! Jesus! I'll kill him. CAROLYN That would be some trick. He's already dead. That's what this other letter is. (takes letter and skims) From his attorney. He left most of his things to mama and requested... (she stops) MICHAEL What? CAROLYN That he be cremated and his ashes thrown on Roseman Bridge. MICHAEL DAMN HIM! I knew mama wouldn't have thought of that herself. It was some damn perverted... photographic mind influencing her! When did the bastard die? CAROLYN '82. MICHAEL Wait a minute! That was thirty years after daddy. Do you think...? CAROLYN I don't know. I'm completely in the dark here. That's what I get for moving away. MICHAEL This happened way before we both got married. I... I can't believe it. (then, innocently) You think she had sex with him? Carolyn cannot believe he is this dense. CAROLYN (sarcastic) My Lord. It must feel real nice living inside your head with Peter Pan and the Easter Bunny. MICHAEL Don't talk to me like that. She was my mother for Christsakes. And now I find out she was... She was a --! CAROLYN Don't say that! MICHAEL Well, what am I supposed to think? CAROLYN I can't believe she never told me? We spoke at least once a week. How could she do that? MICHAEL How did she meet him? Did Dad know? Anything else in that envelope? CAROLYN No, I don't think so. I -- She dumps it over and a SMALL KEY FALLS OUT. Pause, as Carolyn and Michael look to each other -- they grab the key and run out of the kitchen, almost comically falling over each other in their obsession to put this puzzle together. A SERIES OF JUMP CUT -- From one lock to another as they try to find the keyhole that fits the key -- they try closets, attic doors, jewelry boxes, night tables, vanity drawers... Finally -- INT. BEDROOM - DAY At the foot of their parents bed sits an WALNUT HOPE CHEST, covered with a tapestry. Michael and Carolyn look to each other first, before one removes the tapestry and the other tries the key. It fits. They open the chest to find: Camera equipment, a chain with a medallion that reads "FRANCESCA," three leather bound notebooks -- and a sealed envelope with "Carolyn or Michael" written on it. CAROLYN/MICHAEL You read it! Carolyn relents. She takes out the lefter and reads: CAROLYN "January, 1987. Dear Carolyn. I hope you're reading this with Michael. I'm sure he wouldn't be able to read it by himself and he'll need some help understanding all this, especially the parts about me having sex..." Insulted, Michael pulls the lefter out of her hand and defiantly attempts to read it aloud himself to disprove his mother's claim. But after looking at a few lines, he surrenders and hands the lefter back to his sister. CAROLYN (cont'd) "First, and most of all, I love you both very much and although I feel fine, I thought it was time to put my affairs, excuse that word, in order." MICHAEL I can't believe she's making jokes. CAROLYN Sshhh. "After going through the safety deposit box, I'm sure you'll find you're way to this letter. It's hard to write this to my own children. I could let this die with the rest of me, I suppose. (cont'd) But as one gets older, one fears subside. What becomes more and more important is to be known -- known for all that you were during this brief stay. Row said it seems to me to leave this earth without hose you love the most ever really knowing who you were. It's easy for a mother to love her children no matter what -- it's something that just happens. I don't know if it's as simple for children. You're all so busy being angry at us for raising you wrong. But I thought it was important to give you that chance. To give you the opportunity to love me for all that I was..." Carolyn and Michael look to each other like two school children about to take a difficult exam. They continue. CAROLYN (cont'd) "His name was Robert Kincaid. He was a photographer and he was here in 1965 shooting an article for National Geographic on the covered bridges of Madison County. Remember when we got that issue and looked at those bridges we'd seen for years but never noticed? How we felt like celebrities? Remember when we started getting the subscription? They don't remember. CAROLYN (cont'd) I don't want you to be angry with him. I hope after you know the whole story, you might even think well of him. Even grateful. MICHAEL Grateful!? CAROLYN (reads) "... It's all there in the three notebooks. Read them in order. If you don't want to, I suppose that's okay too. But in that case I want you to know something -- I never stopped loving your father. He was a very good man. It's just that my love for Robert was different. He brought out something in me no one had ever brought out before, or since. He made me feel like a woman in a way few women, maybe more, ever experience..." MICHAEL That's it! Grabbing the letter, he starts putting everything back in the trunk. CAROLYN What are you doing? MICHAEL This is crazy. She waits till she's dead to tell us all this. Well, I got news for you. She was my mother. That's enough for me. I don't have to know who she was. CAROLYN Well, I'd like to read them. MICHAEL No. We're going to lock this up and -- CAROLYN STOP IT! (Michael freezes) I want to read them! If you don't want to, then just leave. But don't you push me around like I'm some mule you paid for -- I already GOT A HUSBAND! Michael is stymied. 他狭长脸,高颧骨,头发从前额垂下,衬托出一比蓝眼睛,好像永远不停地在寻找下一幅拍照对象.他当时对她微笑着说她在晨曦中脸色真好,真滋润,要她靠着篱笆桩,他围着她绕了一大弧形,先蹲着照,然后站起来照,然后又躺下用相机对着她. 她对他用了这么多胶卷有点于心不安,但是对他给予她这么多关注感到高兴.她希望没有邻居这么早开拖拉机出来.不过在那个特定的早晨她并不在乎邻居以及他们怎么想. 他拍照,装胶卷,换镜头,换相机,接着又拍,一边工作一边轻声跟她谈话,总是告诉她他觉得她多么好看,他多么爱她."弗朗西丝卡,你太美了,简直不可思议,"有时他停下来凝视着她,目光穿过她,绕着她,一直看到她身体里面. 她的圆领衫绷紧处两个奶头轮廊鲜明.很奇怪,她竟然对自己隔着衣服这样曲线毕露并不发窘.相反,知道他透过镜头能这样清楚看到她的胸部,她感到高兴.她在理查德面前决不会这样穿法,她不会赞许的.说实在的,在遇到罗伯特金凯之前她什么时候也不会这样穿法. 罗伯特要她背稍稍往后仰一点然后轻声说,"好的,好的,就这么呆着."这时他照的就是她现在注视着的这张照片.光线最理想不过了,他说是"多么透亮"----这是他给起的名称,于是正在围绕她转时快门坚决地按了一下. 他很轻捷,当时她望着他时想到的是这个词.他年已五十三岁,而浑身都是瘦肌肉,行动敏捷有力,只有艰苦劳动而又自爱的人才能这样.他告诉她他曾是太平洋战区的战地摄影记者,弗朗西丝卡完全能想象那情景:他脖子上挂着几架相机跟海军陆战队的士兵们一起在硝烟弥漫的海滩上跑来跑去,其中一架放在眼睛下面,不断按动快门,其速度之快几乎使相机着火. 她再看那照片,仔细端详.我当时是挺好看的,她心里想,为自己的自我欣赏不禁莞尔.在此之前和在此之后我都从来没有这么好看过,都是因为他.她又啜一口白兰的,此刻雨随着十一月的风尾下得一阵紧似一阵. 罗伯特金凯可以称得上是一个魔术师,他活在自己的内部世界里,那些地方希奇古怪,几乎有点吓人.在一九六五年八月那个干燥的而炎热的星期一,当他走出卡车向她的车道走来的时候,弗朗西丝卡立刻就感觉到了这一点.理查德和两个孩子到伊利诺依州博览会上展出那匹获奖的小牛去了,那小牛比她得到的关注还要多,现在她有一个星期完全属于自己. 她正坐在前廊的秋千上,喝着冰茶,漫不经心地看着一辆县公路上行驶的卡车，下面卷扬起来和尘土.卡车行驶很慢,好像驾驶员在寻找什么,然后就在她的小巷口停下,把车头转向她的房子.天哪.她想,他是谁? 她赤着脚,穿着牛仔裤和一件褪了色的蓝工作服,袖子高高卷起,衣摆放在裤子外面,长发用一只玳瑁梳子别起,那梳子还是她离开故国时父亲给她的.卡车驶进了巷子在绕屋的铁丝栅栏门前不远处停下. 弗朗西丝卡走下廊子,款款地穿过草地向大门走来.卡车里走出罗伯特金凯,看上去好像是一本没有写出来的书中出现的幻象,那本书名<插画沙漫人历史>. 他的棕色军服式衬衫已为汗湿透,贴在背上,腋下两大圈汗渍.衬衫上面三个扣子敞开着她可以看见他脖子里银项链下面紧绷绷的胸肌.他肩上是桔黄色的背带,是经常在野外作业的人穿的那种. 他微笑着说:"对不起,打搅了.我是在找此地附近一座廊桥,可是找不着,我想我是暂时迷路了。"他用一条蓝色的大手帕擦擦前额,又笑了笑. 他两眼望着她,她感到自己体内有什么东西在跳动.那眼睛,那声音,那脸庞,那银发,还有他身体转动自如的方式.那是古老的,令人心荡神移,慑人魂魄的方式;是在障碍冲倒之后进入睡乡之前的最后时刻在你耳边说悄悄话的方式;是把任何物种阴阳分子之间的空间重新调整的方式. 必须传宗接代.这方式只是轻轻说出了这一需要,岂有他哉.力量是无穷的,而设计的图案精美绝伦.这方式坚定不移,目标明确.这其实很简单,让我们给弄得好像很复杂.弗朗西丝卡感觉到了这一点而不自知,她是在自己的细胞层面上感觉到的.而使她永远改变之事自这开始. 一辆小汽车经过这条路,后面扬起一道尘土,按了按喇叭.弗朗西丝卡向弗洛埃德.克拉克伸出车窗的那只古铜色的手挥手答礼,然后转向陌生人:"你已经很近了,那桥离这里只有两英里地."然后,在二十年的封闭生活中,长期遵循乡村文化所要求的克制.含蓄.不苟言笑的行为准则的弗朗西丝卡.约翰逊忽然说,"如果你愿意的话,我可以领你去."这连她自己都感到吃惊. 她为什么这样做,自己始终也说不准.也许是在这么多年以后,少女的心镜像水泡一样浮到水面上,终于爆开了.她不是个很腼腆的人,但也不大胆主动.她唯一能解释的是,只见了几秒之后,罗伯特金凯就有某种吸引她的地方. 显然,他对她的自告奋勇有点意外,不过很快就过去了,认真地说,那他很感谢.她从后台阶拿起做农活穿的牛仔靴走到他的卡车边,跟他走到乘客的座位边."请等一分钟,我给您腾地方,这里尽是乱七八糟的东西."他边做边叽咕着,主要是自言自语,她可以看得出来他有点慌乱,对整个这件事有点不好意思. 他把帆布包和三脚.暖水瓶和纸袋重新放好.卡车后面放着一只棕色的山姆森式的旧衣箱.一只吉他琴匣,都满灰尘,饱经风雨,用一条布纹带子与一个备用车胎捆在一起. 他正在咕哝着把纸咖啡杯.香蕉皮等等塞进一个杂货店的大牛皮纸袋然后扔到卡车后箱中去时,车门砰的一声碰上了,打了他屁股一下.然后他拿出一个蓝白相间的冷藏箱,也把它放到车后面.在绿色的车门上有几个褪了色的红漆字:"金凯摄影,华盛顿,贝灵汉"."行了,我想您现在可以挤进来了."他用一种特殊的.动物般的优美姿态钻进驾驶盘后面.他看了她一眼,仅仅是一瞥,微微一笑,问道："向哪边走.""右边,"车子向前驶去.他的两条长长的腿自动地踹着踏板,旧的莱维牌长裤盖着系皮带的棕色野地靴,这双靴子已见过多少英里从脚下驶过. 他俯身伸手探到前面的杂物箱中,前肘无意中擦过她的大腿.他半望着风挡外,半望着那杂物箱,从里面抽出一张名片来递给她:"罗伯特金凯,摄影家作家".上面还印着他的地址电话. 他说:"我是<地理杂志>到这里来的,您熟悉这个杂志吗?""熟悉.""他们要发表一篇关于廊桥的文章,显然依阿华的麦迪逊县的几座满有意思的这样的桥.我已经找到了六座,但是我猜至少还有一座,据说是在这个方向.""它叫罗斯曼桥,是属于另外一个人的,属于那个十几岁的那不勒斯姑娘,那个探头窗外,想着还没有出现的远方的恋人的姑娘."她一边说一边注视着他换挡时前臂弯曲的样子. 有两只背包在他旁边放着.一只是关好的,但另一只的盖向后翻着,她能看见露出来的照相机银色的顶部和黑色的背面,以及一个胶卷盒的底部,相机背面贴着"柯达彩色,25,26张"的标签.在这些包包后面塞着一件有许多口袋的背心,从一只口袋中挂下一条一端有活塞的绳子. 好的脚后面是两个三脚架,已经刮痕累累,不过她还辨认得出其中一架上面剥落的商标"基佑".当她打开汽车杂物箱时,她瞥见里面塞满了笔记本.地图.笔.空胶卷盒.散落的零钱和一条骆驼牌香烟.下一个街角向右转,滑润,由于出汗而发光.他的嘴唇很好看,不知怎么,她一开始就注意到了.他的鼻子很像她所见到的印第安人的鼻子,那是孩子还末长大时有一次他们全家到西部度假看见的. 上一页 目 录下一页 |
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来自： 昵称3359418 > 《廊桥遗梦-中英版》
