【时间旅行者的妻子】28

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When I flick¹ on the lights there are pumpkin-sized rocks all over the floor, whole and halved², craggy on the outside and streaked³ with veins⁴ of metal inside. “Ooh, look, Henry. Meteorites⁶.”

　“What’s meteorites?”

　“Rocks that fall from outer space.” He looks at me as though I’m from outer space. “Shall we try another door?” He nods. I close the meteorite⁵ room and try the door across the corridor. This room is full of birds. Birds in simulated flight, birds perched eternally on branches, bird heads, bird skins. I open one of the hundreds of drawers; it contains a dozen glass tubes, each holding a tiny gold and black bird with its name wrapped around a foot. Henry’s eyes are the size of saucers. “Do you want to touch one?”

　“Uh-huh.”

　I remove the cotton wadding from the mouth of a tube and shake a goldfinch onto my palm. It remains⁸ tube-shaped. Henry strokes its small head, lovingly. “It’s sleeping?”

　“More or less.” He looks at me sharply, distrusting my equivocation⁹. I insert the finch⁷ gently back into the tube, replace the cotton, replace the tube, shut the drawer. I am so tired. Even the word sleep is a lure¹⁰, a seduction. I lead the way out into the hall, and suddenly I recollect¹¹ what it was I loved about this night when I was little.

　“Hey, Henry. Let’s go to the library.” He shrugs¹². I walk, quickly now, and he runs to keep up. The library is on the third floor, at the east end of the building. When we get there, I stand for a minute, contemplating¹³ the locks. Henry looks at me, as though to say, Well, that’s that. I feel in my pockets, and find the letter opener. I wiggle the wooden handle off, and lo, there’s a nice long thin metal prong in there. I stick one half of it into the lock and feel around. I can hear the tumblers springing, and when I’m all the way back I stick in the other half, use my bookmark on the other lock and presto¹⁴, Open Sesame!

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