按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
puts all her weight into her fall backwards； trusting him to e with her； trusting his hands to break the fall。 then he will curl himself up； his feet in the air； just his hands and arms and his mouth on her； the rest of his body the tail of a mantis。 the lamp is still strapped against the muscle and sweat of his left arm。 her face slips into the light to kiss and lick and taste。 his forehead towelling itself in the wetness of her hair。
then he is suddenly across the room； the bounce of his sapper lamp all over the place； in this room he has spent a week sweeping of all possible fuzes so it is now cleared。 as if the room has now finally emerged from the war； is no longer a zone or territory。 he moves with just the lamp； swaying his arm； revealing the ceiling； her laughing face as he passes her standing on the back of the sofa looking down at the glisten of his slim body。 the next time he passes her he sees she is leaning down andwiping her arms on the skirt of her dress。 “but i got you； i got you；” she chants。 “i’m the mohican of danforth avenue。” then she is riding on his back and her light swerves into the spines of books in the high shelves； her arms rising up and down as he spins her； and she dead…weights forward； drops and catches his thighs； then pivots off and is free of him； lying back on the old carpet； the smell of the past ancient rain still in it； the dust and grit on her wet arms。 he bends down to her； she reaches out and clicks off his light。 “i won； right？” he still has said nothing since he came into the room。 his head goes into that gesture she loves which is partly a nod； partly a shake of possible disagreement。 he cannot see her for the glare。 he turns off her light so they are equal in darkness。
there is the one month in their lives when hana and kip sleep beside each other。 a formal celibacy between them。 dis…covering that in lovemaking there can be a whole civilisation； a whole country ahead of them。 the love of the idea of him or her。 i don’t want to be fucked。 i don’t want to fuck you。 where he had learned it or she had who knows； in such youth。 perhaps from caravaggio； who had spoken to her during those evenings about his age； about the tenderness towards every cell in a lover that es when you discover your mortality。 this was； after all； a mortal age。 the boy’s desire pleted itself only in his deepest sleep while in the arms of hana； his orgasm something more to do with the pull of the moon； a tug of his body by the night。
all evening his thin face lay against her ribs。 she reminded him of the pleasure of being scratched； her fingernails in circles raking his back。 it was something an ayah had taught him years earlier。 all fort and peace during childhood； kip remembered； had e from her； never from the mother he loved or from his brother or father； whom he played with。 when he was scared or unable to sleep it was the ayah who recognized his lack； who would ease him into sleep with her hand on his small thin back； this intimate stranger from south india who lived with them； helped run a household； cooked and served them meals； brought up her own children within the shell of the household； having forted his older brother too in earlier years； probably knowing the character of all of the children better than their real parents did。
it was a mutual affection。 if kip had been asked whom he loved most he would have named his ayah before his mother。 her forting love greater than any blood love or sexual love for him。 all through his life； he would realize later； he was drawn outside the family to find such love。 the platonic intimacy； or at times the sexual intimacy； of a stranger。 he would be quite old before he recognized that about himself； before he could ask even himself that question of whom he loved most。
only once did he feel he had given her back any fort； though she already understood his love for her。 when her mother died he had crept into her room and held her suddenly old body。 in silence he lay beside her mourning in her small servant’s room where she wept wildly and formally。 he watched as she collected her tears in a small glass cup held against her face。 she would take this； he knew； to the funeral。 he was behind her hunched…over body； his nine…year…old hands on her shoulders； and when she was finally still； just now and then a shudder； he began to scratch her through the sari； then pulled it aside and scratched her skin—as hana now received this tender art； his nails against the million cells of her skin； in his tent； in ； where their continents met in a hill town。
。。。！
IX The Cave of Swimmers
（小//说；网/
i promised to tell you how one falls in love。
a young man named geoffrey clifton had met a friend at oxford who had mentioned what we were doing。 he contacted me； got married the next day； and two weeks later flew with his wife to cairo。 they were on the last days of their honeymoon。 that was the beginning of our story。
when i met katharine she was married。 a married woman。 clifton climbed out of the plane and then； unexpected； for we had planned the expedition with just him in mind； she emerged。 khaki shorts； bony knees。 in those days she was too ardent for the desert。 i liked his youth more than the eagerness of his new young wife。 he was our pilot； messenger； reconnaissance。 he was the new age； flying over and dropping codes of long coloured ribbon to advise us where we should be。 he shared his adoration of her constantly。 here were four men and one woman and her husband in his verbal joy of honeymoon。 they went back to cairo and returned a month later； and it was almost the same。 she was quieter this time but he was still the youth。 she would squat on some petrol cans； her jaw cupped in her hands； her elbows on her knees； staring at some constantly flapping tarpaulin； and clifton would be singing her praises。 we tried to joke him out of it； but to wish him more modest would have been against him and none of us wanted that。
after that month in cairo she was muted； read constantly； kept more to herself； as if something had occurred or she realized suddenly that wondrous thing about the human being； it can change。 she did not hav