"Who"
星期六晚八时许, 一间大旅馆的餐厅门前站着我，下意识地向内四围望望， 台没有一张是空的了。 无意识地拉拉上衣，我预备作一个长时间的等候。
就这一刻，左边转出一个笑容可掬的侍者来。 他用手向我一招，有礼貌地说：“密士脱陈，请走这边来。”
我点了头，便跟着他向餐厅的一边穿过。 我的脑袋里起了莫名其妙的想像，怎么他会知道我的姓呢？ 一双双的男女围在厅的中央处跳舞。 温柔的情曲调和着我的脚步，把我送到厅的一角，较为静寂的一隅。 一个黑发女郎的背影显现在我的眼前，我知道一定是误会了，因为我没有什么的约会。
“密士，你的人来了。” 头侍者刚说就軽捷地走开。
我决定坐下，面前的女郎像活动影片停了又突然继续似的，先是从眼中放出喜悦的光，但立刻就逝去，面色也配上疑问的彩色。
“我请你原谅，大概是被误会了。 你一定等候着一位姓陈的先生吧？” 我集中眼力注射在这不认识的女郎面上，她显出微微的惊异。
“两位要什么酒饮呢？” 侍者突围而进。
“密士，你要什么呢？” 我客气地问。
“请代我要杯马天尼。”
“就两杯吧。”
“侍者。” 我把刚转身的侍者叫回， “如果有一位姓陈的先生，请你把他带到这里来。”
“我以为你 。 。 。 。 ” 侍者自己吃吃地笑了起来，“原来我把你当作他。 密士，密士，请原谅我。”
“没要紧，” 我说， “她也是等候着我的。”
“那位陈先生是空军的中尉。” 是女郎清楚的声音。
“这次不会错的了。”
”密士，原谅我竟这样唐突，又把我自己当作你的相熟人。“
“没要紧。”
传来的音乐很清楚地荡着，节拍的沈重声和着人们心脏的跳动，有剧烈舞 蹈的引诱。
女郎的动态引起我的非常的兴趣。 我知道，她正在幻想着什么。 正确一点 ，还是痴想。 不知何时酒已被放在台上，我举起杯来。
“让我们来饮杯，祝贺这偶然的会面。”
她随手提起高脚的酒杯盖上嘴唇，向我作一个善意的微笑。 头微微地低下，下巴抵着前襟。 我现在已经开始从她的外表来研究她的性格了。
“我希望你喜欢我伴着你说话，直到你所等待的人到时为止。”
“当然，” 顿了一顿。 她说， “你只一个人吗？”
“是的，我时常都是一个人的。”
“有时会感到孤独吗？”
“为什么你要这样问呢？” 我立刻发觉这不是应该在陌生人前所说的话。
“请你原谅我，我的为人是过于坦白了。有时竟把生人当作熟人看，所以说话的时候缺乏礼貌。”
“没要紧， 我也是坦白的人。” 我继续说：
“我还未有答复你的问话。 我自己确实是有点孤独的。 这不是说我没有朋友，不过只是朋友吧了。 只要我去他们的婚典，他们来我的丧礼，我们就是一生的朋友了。 所以这些朋友到处我都有许多，但是我还是孤零零的一个。 不过我孤独的时候，我可以思想，可以明白自己所做的是什么。 假如任何一个人有着我过去那种经历，他是永远都不会觉得寂寞的。”
”看样子你还不怎么老，但是你的说话却含着这样深的人生意味了。”
“不错，我不过三十岁左右。 但是在这个时代中，能够真正地活了三十年， 看着世事变迁了三十年，他确实会比一个八十岁的人还要老的。 我们这二十世纪的人会体验到许多古人和后人所不能尝试的事。 我相信历史就从这世纪划起一条深刻的天然界线，因为 。 。 。 。 ” 望着女郎失了光辉的眼球，我切断了话丝。
“呀， 怎么你不说下去呢？”
“因为你没有聴我的话，你是在想别的事情。”
“没有。”
“或许是那位陈中尉吧？”
女郎笑了。 头又是微微地测下，随着笑容说：
“请原谅我。 但是你怎么知道呢？”
“我虽然不是读心思的奇才，但是我多少看出你的表情，从这点我就可以推测出你的思维来了。”
“原来你是这样细心看人的吗？”
“是的。 这是我职业的一部。”
“那么你是看相先生吗？”
她和我都笑了。
“不是，我是一个小说作者。”
“小说作家？”
“或者我的小说你也曾看过的。 我姓陈，名中枢，笔名是奔莽。 最近 。。。。 ”
“是的，新近曾写过一篇 「谁」的吗？ 还有以前 。。。。”
“原来你真的读过我的小说。”
“是的，我很喜欢。”
“多谢你。 我的小说多是人物的写照。 就是你，我也可以写篇小说的。”
“我也常常想写小说。”
她的面色低沈了。 我看见一层阴影盖上她底心。
“关于什么的呢？” 我进攻下去。
“我自己的过去。”
她把头低下，眼睛望着台上的空酒杯，她不敢正视我。 而我还是猛鹰一般，睁大瞳子，对着她那悲欢交织的面目。 有意或无意地，音乐一阵阵灌进我们的耳朵。 我知道，过去的残影，一再浮上她的脑海上，用着低沉的声音，我打破了两人间的哑剧。
“密士， 以我的眼光来看，像你这样的女子，本来一定过着幸福快乐的生活的。 我相信没有错，你是从祖国回来的。 你的家庭和经济都不错，举家上下都很和睦，不久以前还读着书，或许现在还是一样，是不是？”
她点了点头算是一个回答。 我把口唇皮一咬，决意继续说我的话：
“但是生命的风波，也会在极乐的环境中产生的。 这当然要归因了这不合理的社会制度。 一个非职业的人有写小说的思念，其背后一定有原因的，而且多是自己身历的悲痛，尤其是富于情感的女子。 这些不幸的事，她时常想写下来，给大家看了， 好获得一点同情，作为至上的安慰。 这就是最大的流泪方法，所以写小说不是件愉快的事情，而是自己悲哀的痛哭。 但是她又不愿用口头来告诉别人，变成自己心底的秘密。 人人写作都有一个动机。 拿我来说，我是一个私生子， 从来都不认识自己的父母，收养我的人又在回国的第二年死了去。 我从自己的困苦中渐渐又看着战祸带给人们的苦痛。 这一切都好像只在我的一身上发作。 这社会，这制度，曾把我束了无数次的咽喉。 更不幸的是我没有死去，而又要努力做个真正的人，负起为人的任务。 我虽然没有把世界所有的苦难负上自己的一身，但是我知道许多人都被悲哀缠绕着，所以我努力把这悲哀带走，和我一齐死去，好让人们能够看见一条新生的路。 假如一个人的毁灭能拯救两个以上的人，那么这牺牲是值得的。 这就是我写作的起因了。 密士，你是为的什么呢？“
“你已经把答案说尽了。”
“不，没有。 你的不幸是谁造成的呢？”
“母亲，” 是涩弱的音波。
她还是不敢抬起头来看我，不停地用手玩弄着台上的餐刀。但是她没有在我的视线范围内离过一点一刻。 我看见她的眼睛渐渐发红，我知道她的心一定充满着眼泪。 我的说话给她的反应是怎样的，这我都知道，我已见到她的灵魂，再进而为她掘起那悲哀的过去坟墓。
“是的，” 我说， “就是在这个时代，这个环境，许多不可相信的事情都会发生的。 强迫婚姻的问题也是这样 。。。。。
我的话自动地中止了。 从襟袋中，我取出一条手帕递给她，说：
“假如你想哭的话就让眼泪流下来吧。 在一个能够了解你的人面前流泪是一种安慰。 世界上能够找出几个互相了解的人确实不是一件容易的事。”
她的泪珠滚了出来，沿着面部的凹处流下。 我的手帕紧捏在她的手中，她没有用来抹拭，只让眼泪无阻的流着。 我已经刺伤了她的灵魂，悲哀从这无形的灵魂奔走了。 她现在陷入莫名其妙的感情交织中。 时间一刻刻地溜走，我们渡过一个很长的沉默。
“觉得舒服些了么？” 我说出这句必然的问话。 她点了点头，把手中未用过的手帕还给我。
“我很明白你的困难斗争，” 我的声音还是一样的低沉，但是没有先前那样的感情化了，“但是你到底胜利了。 现在你这些悲哀的事已成了过去。 我希望你从此永远得到幸福，那位陈中尉就是这幸福的使者吧？”
她现在抬起了头，无畏地望着我，虽然眼球还布着红丝网。 我们两人的视线平行，我也感到她的尖锐。
“我似乎都知道这一切。” 我边点头边说： “虽然我们还只是偶然的相会， 但是我却好像认识你很久了。”
她几次想说话，但却没有声音发出来。 我自己也感到难过，于是向她抱歉。
“密士，我要请你千个的原谅，使你今晚这样难过，我实在抱歉得很。 有时我也奇怪，像我这样的人也会受感情控制的。 假如今晚我不到这里来，或是不被误会带到这张台来，或更不坐下，我就不会认识你的。 就算是认识了你，如果我不说起这些话来，我们一出门也彼此永远遗忘了，这样或者对你对我都要好一点。”
“不，我很喜欢能够得到这个机会。”
我无意地点了点头。 这时那角的乐队正起奏着 “华尔士”。 我站起来说：
”我们来跳舞吧。”
我挽着她的腰在厅中转动，先前她还被阴影盖着，渐渐地消散了。
在众人的掌声中，我们回到墙角的台前。 我望见那边大门前出现了一个华人军官，我知道陈中尉到了，就回身向女郎请晚安。
“我要走了。”
“这样快。 你不是说等到陈中尉来到才走的么？”
“请你原谅这突然的离辞，我要回去写小说了。 密士，我们这次的会面是很偶然的，我希望不曾加增你的烦恼。”
“密士脱陈，我很喜欢能够认识你。 假如这是偶然的，但愿以后还有这偶然的事发生。”
“这个世间有时细小得很，我深信以后在无意中还有碰面的机会。 密士，我祝你幸福。”
“多谢你。 愿上帝祝福你。 晚安了。”
她把头微微地侧下，下巴挨着衣襟，做出一种很可爱的笑容。 我就在这笑容中退出了。
出了大门，我从衣袋里取出一枝香烟，含在唇边，划上火柴，深深地吸了一口，就向前迈步归途。 我的脚步因为脑海中起的问题符号而停止工作。 我想了好一会，总想不起女郎的姓氏，才发觉竟忘了请教她的。 于是回身到餐厅来。
在转动的门刚把我吐进厅内的时候，头侍者又笑容可掬地问我，
“先生， 是一位么？”
我没有注意他，只遥遥头。 厅中女郎的背影正伏在军服的青年肩上跳舞。 我一转念，想道， “就是谁也有什么要紧呢？” 于是转身推动那大扁的旋门，把身体移出街上走动。 我再深深地吸了最末的一口烟，就把颇长的烟屁股弹出街心去。
Around eight o'clock on Saturday night, in front of the restaurant door of a big hotel stood I, subconsciously looking inside. Not a single empty table. I thoughtlessly pulled in my coat and prepared for a long wait.
Just at this moment a waiter with a beaming smiling-face came out on my left. Waving his hand at me he politely said, “Mr. Chen, please come this way.”
I nodded and followed him passing through one side of the dining room. My mind became baffled. How did he know my surname? Men and women in pairs encircled at the center of the room dancing. The tender melody harmonized with my footsteps, sending me to the corner of the room, a quieter spot. The back view of a black-hair lady appeared in front of my eyes. I knew it must be a mistake because I didn’t have a date.
“Miss, your guest has arrived,” said the head waiter as he nimbly walked away.
I decided to sit down. The lady in front of me seemed like a motion picture that stopped and suddenly continued, as her eyes let out joyous light that immediately faded out, replaced by a tinted questioning complexion.
“I beg your pardon. This perhaps is a misunderstanding. You must be waiting for someone named Mr. Chen?” I focused casting my vision on this unknown woman’s face, as she expressed a slight surprise.
“What would you like to drink?” The waiter barged in.
“Miss, what do you like?” I asked politely.
“Please get me a martini.”
“Then make it two.”
“Waiter,” I called back the walked away waiter. “If there comes a Mr. Chen, please bring him here.”
“I thought you are…” the waiter tittered, “Why, I took you to be him. Miss, Miss, please forgive me.”
“It’s no problem,” I said. “She is also waiting for me.”
“The other Mr. Chen is a Lieutenant of the Air Force.” A clear voice from the lady.
“It won’t be mistaken this time.”
“Miss, excuse me for being so rude. I’m taking myself as your acquaintance again.”
“It’s no issue.”
The sound of music clearly swayed by with heavy bass-beats in sync with people’s pulsing hearts. A dramatic lure to dancing.
The manner of the lady intrigued my unusual interest. I knew what she was fantasizing, or more precisely, her perpetual wishful thinking. Unaware of when the drinks were placed on the table, I raised my glass.
“Let’s toast to congratulate our fortuitous encounter.”
Casually she raised the tall-leg glass, covering her lips and gave me a goodwill smile. Her head slightly dipped and her chin touched her front garment. I have now started to study her character from her appearance.
“I hope you enjoy me keeping you company with chats until the person you are waiting for arrives.”
“Of course,” she paused and said, “Are you alone?”
“Yes, I am frequently alone.”
“Do you feel lonely sometimes?”
“Why do you ask so?” I instantly realized such talk is not what I should say to a stranger.
“Please excuse me. I am too frank as a person. At times I take a stranger as an old acquaintance and lack courtesy when I speak.”
“It’s alright. I am also a frank person,” I continued speaking.
“I haven’t answered your question. I am in fact somewhat lonely. This is not to say I don’t have friends, but they are just friends. As long as I attend their weddings and they come to my funeral, we will be lifetime friends. Therefore, I have such kind of friends everywhere, but I am still a lonely one. However when I am alone, I can contemplate and understand what I have been doing. If anyone had my sort of past experiences, he would never feel lonesome.”
“By your appearance you don’t look very old, but your talking entails such a deep implication of life.”
“You are right. I am just about 30 years old, but if one has truly lived in this era for 30 years, having seen the world events changing through 30 years, he would in fact be more aged than an 80 years old man. Those of us living in the 20th century could have experienced many things that people of the past and future would not have been able to attempt. I believe history will demarcate a profound boundary line from this century, because…” Seeing the radiance fade out of the lady’s eyes, I cut my words short.
“Ah! Why don’t you continue speaking?”
“Because you didn’t listen to what I was saying. You were thinking of something else.”
“No.”
“Perhaps you were thinking of Lieutenant Chen?”
The lady laughed. Her head slightly dipped as she spoke with a smile:
“Please excuse me, but how did you know?”
Although I am not a genius mind-reader, I can more or less detect through your expressions. From such a perspective, I can then predict your thoughts.”
“So do you observe people this closely?”
“Yes, this is part of my profession.”
“So are you a fortune teller?
She and I both laughed.
“No, I am a fiction writer.”
“Fiction writer?”
“Perhaps you have read my writings. My surname is Chen, first name Zhongshu, and Ben Mang is my pen name. Recently…..”
“Yes, recently you wrote a piece “Who?” And before that there were ...”
“So you have indeed read my fiction.”
“Yes, I like them very much.”
“Thank you. My stories are mostly portrayals of people. Even you, I can also write a story too.”
“I often have wanted to write stories too.”
Her facial complexion grew dim. I saw a dark shadow shrouded her heart.
“What is it all about?” I pressed on.
“My own past.”
She lowered her head. Her eyes stared at the empty glass on the table. She was afraid to look straight at me, while I enlarged my pupils like a fierce eagle aiming at her face that was compounded with sadness and joy. With or without intention, waves of music poured into our ears. I knew the remnant trace of the past once again floated across her mind. In a deep, low voice I broke up the pantomime between us.
“Miss, in my view a lady like you definitely should be living a blessed and happy life. I believe I am right that you were returning from the motherland. Your family situation and economic status are not bad. There is harmony in the whole family, and you were still in school not long ago. Perhaps you still do now, isn’t it so?”
She nodded as a way of response. I slightly bit my lip and persisted in speaking.
“The disturbances in life could take place even in the ecstatic environment. It should apparently be attributed to our unreasonable social system. There must be a background cause for a non-professional writer having the thought of writing stories. These stories are mostly about sadness and pains of one’s personal experiences. This is especially the case for a woman who is prone to emotions. She would often want to write about these unfortunate events and share with others in order to gain some sympathy as her best comfort. This is the ultimate way to shed tears. Writing stories is thus not a pleasant thing, as it is a personal wailing of sadness. Yet she is not willing to verbally tell people, and they become secrets in her heart. Everyone has a motive for writing. Take me, for example. I am an illegitimate child who never knew my own parents. The person who adopted me died in the second year after he returned to China. In my privation I continually observe the bitter pains that war has inflicted on people. All of these have seemed to happen to me alone. This society, this system has strangled my throat numerous times. More unfortunately, I didn’t die while I must endeavor to be a true and righteous person to fulfill my obligation as a human being. Although I haven’t shouldered all the sufferings of the world, I know many people are entangled in sorrow. Hence, I struggle to carry this misery away and let it die with me, as a way for people to see there is a path to new life. If the destruction of one person can save two or more people, the sacrifice is worth it. Such thinking is the original reason I started writing. Miss, what is yours?”
“You have said all the answers.”
“No, I haven’t. Who created your adversity?”
“Mother.” It was a wave of feeble sound.
Still did not dare raise her head to look at me, she incessantly fiddled with the dinning knife on the table. All the while she had not for any bit departed outside of my peripheral vision. I saw her eyes gradually turn red, and I knew her heart must be full of tears. I may not know what was her reaction to my saying, but what I did know was I have seen her soul and I went on to help her dig up the grave of that sadness from the past.
“Yes,” I said, “indeed it is in this era and in this environment that many unbelievable things can occur. The problem of forced marriage is the same . . . ”
My speech stopped voluntarily. I took out a handkerchief from my front pocket, handed it to her and said, “If you want to cry just let the tears run down. To be able to shed tears in front of someone who understands you gives you a sense of comfort. It is really not easy in this world to find a few people who are mutually emphatic to each other.” Her teardrops rolled out, running along the curves of her face. My handkerchief was tightly squeezed in her hand. She did not use it to wipe her face and let the tears freely run down. I have wounded her soul, and her sadness had fled from her indiscernible soul. She was then sinking into a perplexed sense of intertwined feelings. Time slowly drifted away. We passed through a very long silence.
“Do you feel better?” I uttered this inevitable question. She nodded and returned the unused handkerchief to me. “I truly understand your arduous struggle.” My voice was still low and deep, but no longer as emotional as before. “But you have triumphed after all, and now, all these sad events have become the past. I wish you happiness hereafter, and that Lieutenant Chen is the envoy of this happiness.”
Despite the remains of red veins in her eyes, she raised her head up now, looking at me without fear. Our eyesight was parallel, and I too felt her acuity.
“I seem to know all about these,” I nodded as I spoke, “Although we have just met fortuitously, I seem to have known you for a long time.”
She wanted to speak a few times but no sound came out. I myself also felt sad, so I apologized to her.
“Miss, I beg you to pardon me wholeheartedly, for I have caused you such sadness tonight. I am truly sorry. I also have wondered sometimes - a person like me could also be impacted by emotions. If I didn’t come here tonight, wasn’t mistakenly brought to this table, or didn’t sit down, I wouldn’t have known you. Even if I have known you, if I didn’t speak of all these thoughts, we will forever mutually forget each other once we were out of the door. This may perhaps be better for both you and I.”
“No, I am very happy to have this opportunity.”
I nodded aimlessly. The band at the other corner began playing a waltz. I stood up and said:
“Shall we dance.”
I held her on waist spinning on the dance floor. At first she was still swathed by a dark shadow, and it gradually dissipated.
Amidst the applauding crowd, we returned to the table by the corner. I looked up and saw a Chinese officer appearing at the front door. I knew Lieutenant Chen had arrived, so I turned around and paid my respects to the lady.
“I am leaving now.”
“So soon? Didn’t you say you will wait until Lieutenant Chen arrives before you leave?”
“Please pardon my abrupt departure. I have to go back to writing now. Miss, our meeting is quite fortuitous and I hope it did not add trouble to you.”
“Mr. Chen, I am very pleased to have known you. If this is fortuitous, I hope there will be more of this kind of fortuitous event to occur in the future.”
“Sometimes this world is quite small. I truly believe there will be an opportunity that we will unknowingly run into each other again. Miss, I wish you happiness.”
“Thank you. God blesses you. Good night.”
Slightly she lowered her head and her chin touched on her garment. She crafted a charming smile with which I withdrew from the scene.
Out of the door I took out a cigarette from my pocket and put it on my lips. I struck a match, deeply inhaled a puff and took long steps going back home. Yet my feet stopped by a question mark that rose up to my mind. I thought for quite a while, unable to recall the surname of the lady. I then realized I had actually forgotten to ask her. So I returned to the restaurant.
Just when the revolving door spat me into the dining room, again the head waiter smilingly asked me:
“Mister, for one?”
I didn’t pay attention to him and just shook my head. I saw within the room the back view of the lady dancing and leaning on the shoulder of a young man in uniform. In a splash I changed my mind, thinking, “What difference does it make about who she is?” At that point, I turned and pushed the revolving door and placed my body outside and walked on the street. Again, I intensely sucked in the last puff of the cigarette and flicked the rather long butt onto the heart of the street.