遇见爱伦坡 A Meeting With Allan Poe
作者&投稿：仲长国 （若有异议请与网页底部的电邮联系）
我的前辈爱伦坡为了庆祝我考上位于他故乡的大学，派蜘蛛送来了一封请函，邀我去参加普斯佩罗亲王的假面舞会。
“……我知道这份邀请在当下看起来有些突然，但希望你不要感到害怕。舞会在一处极度偏远的宏伟城堡举行，一旦所有来宾到齐，我们的工匠就会从内侧将所有的门闩焊死。补给和设施都很充足，你在这里绝对是安全而快活的。如果你乐意，甚至可以一直待到全球疫情结束……”
缓过神来的时候，我已经身在舞会现场。我穿着绑带靴和那条名叫“颓废毒气花园”的哥特吊带裙，一脸迷茫地站在城堡富丽堂皇的套房中。
“甜心，你怎么了？”我的男友有些担忧地拉了拉我的手，“身体不舒服吗？”
我朝他看过去，说实话，他的样子吓了我一跳——浓重的黑眼圈，一身笔挺的纯黑色军装，系着红丝绸的军帽歪戴在头上，一道画上去的血痕从他右侧的太阳穴一直流淌到下巴，看上去十分逼真。
“不……我没事。”我摇摇头，“就是有些不适应你cosplay自杀的士兵……”
“有什么适应不适应的，我们都在这里隔离五六个月了，我的什么打扮你没见过。”他漫不经心地一笑，“而且，今天这身是致敬爱伦坡前辈的，他在和我一样大的时候，不是也有过做一名职业军人的梦想吗？进过西点军校，后来又被开除了……”
军人……么。做军人是一件很幸福的事情啊，成为了军人的人，生命不再属于自己。少年们不愿碌碌无为地活着，他们或是怀揣着振兴家族、光宗耀祖的希望，或是仅仅为了逃离对于平庸的恐惧，前赴后继地奔赴战场。无论战争正义与否，这些孩子们都理应是幸福的——为国捐躯的那一刻，老死、病死都将与他们无关……不可思议的是，爱伦坡竟然在最好的年纪放弃了成为英雄，放弃了轰轰烈烈地死去。
此时，我的恋人捕捉到了一阵美妙的乐声，他的绿眼睛明亮起来：“嘿，听，这是柴可夫斯基的《1812序曲》。美丽的小姐，我能请你跳一支舞吗？让我们把高墙之外的那些不愉快都忘掉吧，在这里，你是绝对安全的。”
我们在由七个房间组成的曲折奇特的行宫中舞蹈：第一个房间晶莹的蓝窗户如亿万年前刚刚孕育出生命的海洋般澄澈，那是奔流的尼罗河与法老钴蓝的眼影——属于古文明的颜色；第二个房间的紫红窗帘无风自动，滚滚如紫气东来，似齐桓公与柏拉图华丽的衣摆；第三个房间拥有清真寺翠绿的圆顶，我在茫茫的绿色中嗅到了无数沙漠王国对于水草丰美的向往；紧接着是橙色、白色、紫罗兰色的房间，那是大航海的夕阳、工业革命的蒸汽和独立战争时期士兵别在领口的告死菊……人类文明的一曲终了，我们像日轮般从行宫的最东边旋转到了最西边，在长廊尽头的黑色房间里拥吻。
厚重的黑丝绒帷幔垂落在我恋人的肩上，他身边是一扇嵌满猩红玻璃的哥特式窗户。由于服装的颜色和背景过于相近，他几乎与整个房间融为一体。他冲我一笑，洁白的牙齿反射出玻璃后面用于照明的摇曳火光，画在脸上的血痕也跟着动了一下。
这时，从他的身后爆发出一声脆响。我下意识地抓住他的肩膀，探头看过去：一座黄铜雕像紧紧地贴着长廊西侧的墙壁——是个戴眼镜的东方男人，下巴上挂着口罩，心脏的位置嵌着一块精美的表盘，嘴里叼着一只哨子，清亮而高亢的鸣声如溪水一般从哨子里喷涌而出。我向房间外一望，惊讶地发现人们似乎都被这哨声吓得愣在原地。并且竟然没人敢于驻足现在我们身处的黑暗房间，更不要说在这里舞蹈了。
“吹哨人”时钟响了八下就安静下来了，来宾们在余音中慢慢恢复了镇定。一番轻松的说笑过后，乐师们开始演奏新的曲子，穿着怪异的舞者们重新成群地聚在一起，肆无忌惮地将自己的呼吸喷吐在别人的面颊上。半年过去了，城堡里的派对从没有因为时钟的报时而间断怕一分钟。即便是那些在钟响时低头沉思的老者，在钟停后也会毫无顾忌地重新开始狂欢。
或许是因为从未如此近距离地听过哨声，我突然觉得非常不安，紧紧扯住了我恋人的袖子，“我们走吧。”我乞求道，“我有点不舒服……”
“嘘——”像是早有预谋一般，他安抚似的揽我入怀，苍白的手臂将我固定在原地，“再等等，好戏马上就要开始了。”
“……什么意思？”我的恐惧又加深了一重，“既然你知道有事情要发生在这里，我们为什么不能现在就走？”
“听着，你可能觉得普斯佩罗亲王疯了，但是他没有。”“自杀的士兵”在我耳边低语，“全世界的人都知道‘他对色彩和效果独具慧眼。他的构思大胆热烈，而他的思想却闪耀着野蛮的光辉。’既然来到了他的自由派对，你就必须听他的话、跟他见面、同他握手……”
“别这样，这里没人戴口罩，他们都会感染的！”我终于意识到了整个舞会哪里不对劲，于是拼命地挣扎，可他却束缚着我纹丝不动，“够了，我要回家——”
“咳——咳——”喧嚣的舞厅在一连串尖利的咳嗽声中彻底安静了下来。人群像面对摩西的大海一样朝两侧自动分开，露出一个穿着病号服的人来。他戴着充满白色粘液的呼吸面罩，拄着一根点滴架步履蹒跚地前进。他全身湿透了，皮肤是狰狞的粉红色，身体散发出一阵阵消毒水和汗液的刺鼻气味。
那个病人模样的不速之客径直朝我们这边走来了，无视其他来宾眼中的厌恶、愤怒、恐惧和普斯佩罗亲王的怒吼。
“是谁如此大胆？”金发碧眼的亲王声嘶力竭地问站在他身边的随从，他洪亮的声音从最东边的蓝色房间传来，在最西边的我们都听得一清二楚，“谁敢用这种无礼的嘲弄来侮辱我们？快抓住他，揭开他的面具，让我们看看日出时被枪决的到底是个什么家伙！”
“别过去，病毒可以通过空气传播！”我情不自禁地喊了出来，“你们连防护服都没有，这样不是去送死吗？”
“你瞎操什么心啊，这帮人散漫惯了，又不会因为你是对的就听你的。”将我禁锢于此的少年一脸的风淡云清，“还有啊，今年你还是别随便往外跑比较好，这普斯佩罗亲王做事不靠谱，国难当头连自己的子民保不住，更不会保外国人了……”
一开始还有人逼近这位狂妄的陌生人，可他依然面无表情，镇定自若地用点滴架拖动着精瘦的身躯前进。他病态的从容几乎产生了一种不可名状的威严感，使人不敢轻易靠近，以至于他如入无人之境般径直从暴怒的亲王身边穿过，中途甚至还双目无神地看了他一眼。不速之客沿着历史的长廊向我们款款走来，不断逼近这象征死亡与人类末日的黑红房间。
似乎是为了掩盖自己先前的失态，亲王带头拔出配枪向陌生人冲去，可没有一个人胆敢尾随他。一声惨叫过后，我眼睁睁地看着方才狂欢的人们都倒在地上抽搐起来，嘴里吐出白色的粘液。还有些气力的人们抓住了那个已经挪动到“吹哨人”时钟旁边的鬼影，他们惊讶地发现自己死死抓住的那身病号服和充满粘液的呼吸面罩下并无任何有形的实体。
在爱伦坡的“末日预言”中，人类在面对天灾时没有疫苗、缺乏特效药才是最可怕的。当权者不知道什么时候就会被一个看上去毫无攻击性的小人物杀死，只因为他在他面前喘了口气。领袖们被纷纷“斩首”，天下大乱，这才是文明的末日。
我心有余悸地合上《红死魔的假面舞会》，赶在明天到来之前写下了这篇文字。
2020.4.26
——The Masque of the COVID-19
My senior, Mr. Poe, insisted to celebrate my enrollment to the university in his hometown, Virginia. He sent me an invitation along with his letter by a Richmond spider, kindly inviting me to join a mysterious masked ball held by Prince Prospero.
“...I know this invitation seems, well, a little sudden at this very moment, but trust me, I have no intention to frighten you. The ball will be held in a remote grand castle without any intrusion. What’s more, once all the guests have arrived, our craftsmen would weld all the bolts from the inside. There are abundant supplies and facilities in the castle, which means you will be absolutely safe and joyful there. If, by any chance of your preference, you may even stay there until the pandemic ends…”
Before I even realized, I was already in the ball room. Puzzled, I stood perfectly still in the middle of a magnificent suite in this castle, wearing my strapping boots and a Gothic suspender skirt named Decadent Gas Garden .
“Are you feeling alright, my love?” My boyfriend Anyao put my hand in his with a worried expression, “You look a bit dazed.”
I turned to face him, and to be honest, his appearance shocked me. Anyao already had a ramrod posture even without that trim black army uniform. His military cap had a scarlet ribbon tied around it. My boy had those thick dark circles under both of his eyes. There was a bloodstain flowing from his right temple to his chin.The makeup looked very realistic.
“Yeah… I’m fine.” I nodded, “I just need to get used to you cosplaying a soldier who committed suicide.”
“Oh,come on, you’ve seen me in even creepier rags…” He laughed it off as if I was only messing around, “Besides, today's uniform is a homage to old Poe. When he was my age, didn't he dream about being a soldier as well? Though admitted to West Point, he was later dismissed…”
Being a soldier...? Well, that should be a dream come true for many. People who joined the army no longer belong to themselves. Young men wouldn’t live their whole life waiting for a hospital stay. They go to battle fields either hoping to revitalize their families or glorify their ancestors, or just to escape their fear of mediocrity. Whether the war is just or not, these children were meant to be happy about it: the moment they die for their country, they’d be freed from death of old age and fatal illness. It's kind of unbelievable that Mr. Poe gave up being a hero, a noble death at the best of his years.
All in a sudden, my boy caught a wonderful tone. His green eyes went bright: “Hey,listen, they are playing Tchaikovsky's Overture 1812 . My lady, may I invite you for a dance? Let's forget the disamenity outside these castle walls.You are perfectly safe and sound here with me.”
We strode across the twists and turns of the seven mighty chambers: the first room had a blue crystal window as clear as the ocean that just bred life millions of years ago; there lies the rushing Nile and Pharaoh’s cobalt blue eyeshadow–the color of an ancient civilization. The second room's purple curtains were rolling like purple clouds, which reminded me of Duke Huan of Qi’s and Plato's gorgeous robs. The third room had the green dome of a mosque; in that boundless emerald color, I could smell the yearning of countless desert kingdoms for the richness of water and grass. Next, there lied those orange, white and violet rooms: the setting sun of the Great Navigation, the steam of Industrial Revolution, and the bachelor's button pinned on soldier’s collar during the Revolutionary War. By the end of the requiem of human civilization, we’ve spun from the easternmost of the palace to the westernmost like the sun traveling from day to night. There, we kissed each other passionately in the pitch-black room at the end of the corridor.
The heavy black velvet drapery hung over Anyao's shoulders, beside him a Gothic window inlaid with scarlet glass. Because his uniform had a similar color to the wallpapers, Anyao appeared almost invisible. My boy smiled to me, his white teeth reflecting the flickering light illuminating the seventh chamber behind the glass and his bloodstain make-up curled up a little bit as well.
A crisp sound broke out behind Anyao. I gripped his shoulder tightly without noticing and peaked at whatever it was behind his back. A brass statue had been placed so closely against the farthest wall that none of us was really aware of it. It depicted an Asian man with glasses, a mask on his chin, a beautiful dial set at the place of his heart, and a whistle in his mouth. That bright, sharp sound gushed out of the Asian man’s whistle like a running stream into this gloomy chamber. I glanced out of the room and was quite surprised to find that people seemed to be stunned by the whistle. And no one dared to step in the room we were in, let alone dance here.
The Whistler clock chimed eight times before went off,and the guests slowly resumed composure in the after sound. After some glances on each other and some laughter, the musicians began to play new tunes again,and the dancers in those queer cloaks and masks gathered in groups again,breathing on others’ cheeks outrageously. It had been like this for about half a year, the wild party in prince Prospero’s castle never stopped for more than a minute because of the chiming. Even the elders who lowered their heads and meditated as they listened to the passing of another hour would start to binge again without any scruples.
Perhaps it was because that’s the first time I’ve ever heard a whistle so close, I suddenly felt very disturbed, clutching Anyao tight for a moment. “Dear, let's leave here, alright?” I begged him, “This room is getting on my nerves.”
“Shh,don’t be afraid…” As if there had been a premeditation, Anyao hugged me heartily and gently wrapped me in his pale arms, “Not now, my love, not now. A good show is about to begin in a few seconds.”
“…What do you mean?” My heart started pounding.
“Listen, you may think that prince Prospero is mad, but he’s not,” He whispered. “People all over the world know that ‘he had a fine eye for colors and effects. He disregarded the decora of mere fashion. His plans were bold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with barbaric luster.’ Now that you have come to his party of the greatest freedom, then it is necessary to hear and see and touch him…”
“How can you be so stubborn?! No one here is wearing breathing masks; they will all be infected!” I finally realized what went wrong with this masked ball, so I struggled desperately, but Anyao kept me still. “Stop it already! I'm going home ---”
It was when someone broke into a paroxysm of coughing the noisy ballroom went completely silent. The crowd, like the sea in front of Moses, quickly separated, revealing a man in gowns. His face covered in a breathing mask full of white mucus dangling from both the corner of his mouth and the tube. The man hobbled along on a drip rack. He was drenched, his skin showed a ferocious pink color, and his body had that smell of disinfectant and sweat.
The Patient came straight to us, ignoring the disgust, anger, panic of guests and the roar of Prince Prospero.
“How dare him?” The blonde Prince demanded hoarsely of the courtiers who stood near him,“How dare him insult us with such mockery? Seize him and unmask him – that we may know whom we sent to death at sunrise -”
“Don't get near him! The virus is airborne!” I couldn't help but cried out, “You don't even have any protection! You’ll catch it -”
“Cut it out already. These mad men are used to possess unlimited freedom, and they won’t listen to you just because you are right or something.” The boy who bounded me had that casual smile on his face as always, seemingly enjoying one of Allan Poe’s best works, “Besides, you'd better stay home this year instead of going to whatever college that is outside your home nation, especially when it comes to this country. Prince Prospero can be a pretty untrustworthy guy in his office. He can’t even save his own people, let alone you international students…”
At first, there was a slight rushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, but The Patient remained expressionless, deliberately dragging his slim body forward with the drip rack. His morbid calmness almost produced an indescribable sense of dignity, which made no one dare to get close with ease. Unimpeded, he pushed straight past the furious Prince, even gave him a blank look. This uninvited guest headed toward Anyao and I through the corridor of history, approaching the black room that symbolizes death and the end of mankind.
As if to cover up his previous gaffe, the Prince took the lead and drew his gun to the stranger, but no one dared to follow him. There was a sharp cry – and I stood there watching the revelers faint to the ground and twitch, coughing out white mucus. Some of them threw themselves into the black apartment with their last strength, seizing The Patient whose tall figure stood erect and motionless within the shadow of the Whistler clock, grasped in unutterable horror at finding that the gown and the mucous mask which they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any tangible form.
In Poe's “doomsday prophecy”, when humans face natural calamities and man-made misfortunes, the worst of all is that there is no salvation. The one in power doesn't know when he would be killed by a seemingly nonaggressive individual,just because he took a breath in front of him. The leaders were beheaded one after another and the world was in chaos – here comes the end of civilization.
I closed The Masque of the Red Death with lingering fear and filled this page before tomorrow arrives.
2020.4.27
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