芒果街上的小屋塞爾

塞爾

　　我不記得什麼時候起，發覺他在看我，塞爾。可我知道他在看。每次。我從他家房前走過時，他一直在看。他和他的朋友在房子前，坐在自行車上拋硬幣。他們沒嚇我。他們嚇著我了，可我不會讓他們知道。我不像別的女孩那樣過街。我走了過去，筆直向前，筆直的視線。我知道他在看。我要向自己證明，我不害怕任何人的眼睛，即便是他的。我要回頭用力看，就一眼，當他是塊玻璃。於是我那麼做了。我看了一眼，可我看得太久，在他騎過我身邊的時候，我看是因為我想勇敢些，一直看到他眼睛上灰濛濛的貓毛裡去。自行車停下來，撞在一輛停著的小汽車上，撞到了，我於是飛快地走開。有人那樣看你會讓你的血結冰。有人看我。有人看。可是他是那樣的人，他那樣看。他是個小混混。爸爸說。別和他說話。媽媽說。

　　後來他女朋友來了。我聽到他叫她羅伊絲。她又美又嬌小，散發出嬰兒皮膚的味道。我見她有時去商店為他買東西。有次在賓尼先生的店裡，她站在我身旁。她光著腳，我看到那光腳丫上嬰兒一樣的腳趾塗成了淡淡的粉紅，像小小的粉紅貝殼。她的氣味也是粉紅的，像嬰兒。她長著大女孩的手，骨頭卻像女人的骨頭一樣細長。她也化了妝。可她不會系鞋帶。我會。

　　有時很晚了，我仍聽到他們在笑，聽到啤酒罐響和貓叫，還有樹兒在竊竊私語：等呀等呀等吧。塞爾讓羅伊絲繞著街區騎他的自行車，有時他們一起散步。我望著他們。她牽他的手，他有時停下來幫她系鞋帶。媽媽說這樣的女孩，這樣的女孩是會鑽進小巷裡去胡來的女孩。不會系鞋帶的羅伊絲。他把她帶去了哪裡？

　　我身體裡的每樣東西都屏住了呼吸。每樣東西都在等待像聖誕節一樣綻放。我想做一個煥然一新的我。我想要晚上壞壞地坐在外面，脖子上挽個男孩，裙子下有風吹過。不是像這樣，每晚都對著樹說話，欠身窗外，想像我看不到的事情。

　　有一次一個男孩緊緊抱著我，我發誓，我感到他手臂的握力與重量，可那是在夢裡。

　　塞爾。你是怎麼抱她的？抱著，像這樣？你什麼時候吻了她？像這樣？

　　I don't remember when I first noticed him looking at me——Sire. But I knew he was looking. Every time. All the time I walked past his house. Him and his friends sitting on their bikes in front of the house, pitg pehey didn't scare me. They did, but I wouldn't let them know. I don't cross the street like irls. Straight ahead, straight eyes. I walked past. I knew he was looking. I had to prove to me I wasn't scared of nobody's eyes, not even his. I had to look back hard, just once, like he was glass. And I did. I did once. But I looked too long when he rode his bike past me. I looked because I wao be brave, straight into the dusty cat fur of his eyes and the bike stopped and he bumped into a parked car, bumped, and I walked fast. It made your blood freeze to have somebody look at you like that. Somebody looked at me. Somebody looked. But his kind, his ways. He is a punk, Papa says, and Mama says not to talk to him.

　　And then his girlfriend came. Lois I heard him call her. She is tiny and pretty and smells like baby's skin. I see her sometimes running to the store for him. And once when she was standio me at Mr. Benny's grocery she was barefoot, and I saw her barefoot baby toenails all painted pale pale pink, like little pink seashells, and she smells pink like babies do. She's got big girl hands, and her bones are long like ladies'bones, and she wears makeup too. But she doesn't know how to tie her shoes. I do.

　　Sometimes I hear them laughing late, beer s and cats and the trees talking to themselves：wait, wait, wait. Sire lets Lois ride his bike around the block, or they take walks together. I watch them. She holds his hand, aops sometimes to tie her shoes. But Mama says those kinds of girls, those girls are the ohat go into alleys. Lois who 't tie her shoes. Where does he take her?

　　Everything is holding its breath inside me. Everything is waiting to explode like Christmas. I want to be all new and shiny. I want to sit out bad at night, a boy around my ned the wind under my skirt. Not this way, every evening talking to the trees, leaning out my window, imagining what I 't see.

　　A boy held me once so hard, I swear, I felt the grip a of his arms, but it was a dream.

　　Sire. How did you hold her? Was it? Like this? And when you kissed her? Like this?

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