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！
rgue with the speaker。
one…fifteen。 food distribution。 everyone from downstairs gets a cup of soup； plus dessert； if there happens to be any。 a contented mr。 gies sits on the divan or leans against the desk with his newspaper； cup and usually the cat at his side。 if one of the three is missing； he doesnt hesitate to let his protest be heard。 mr。 kleiman relates the latest news from town； and hes an excellent source。 mr。 kugler hurries up the stairs； gives a short but solid knock on the door and es in either wringing his hands or rubbing them in glee； depending on whether hes quiet and in a bad mood or talkative and in a good mood。
one forty…five。 everyone rises from the table and goes about their business。 margot and mother do the dishes； mr。 and mrs。 van d。 head for the divan； peter for the attic； father for his divan； dussel too； and anne does her homework。
what es next is the quietest hour of the day； when theyre all asleep； there are no disturbances。 to judge by his face； dussel is dreaming of food。 but i dont look at him long； because the time whizzes by and before you know it； itll be 4 p。m。 and the pedantic dr。 dussel will be standing with the clock in his hand because im one minute ；late clearing off the table。
yours； anne
saturday； august 7； 1943
dearest kitty；
a few weeks ago i started writing a story； something i made up from beginning to end； and ive enjoyed it so much that the products of my pen are piling up。
yours； anne
monday； august 9； 1943
dearest kitty；
we now continue with a typical day in the annex。 since weve already had lunch； its time to describe dinner。
mr。 van daan。 is served first； and takes a generous portion of whatever he likes。
usually joins in the conversation； never fails to give his opinion。 once hes spoken； his word is final。 if anyone dares to suggest otherwise； mr。 van d。 can put up a good fight。 oh； he can hiss like a cat。 。 。 but id rather he didnt。 once youve seen it； you never want to see it again。 his opinion is the best； he knows the most about everything。 granted； the man has a good head on his shoulders； but its swelled to no small degree。
madame。 actually； the best thing would be to say nothing。 some days； especially when a foul mood is on the way； her face is hard to read。 if you analyze the discussions； you realize shes not the subject； but the guilty party！ a fact everyone prefers to ignore。 even so； you could call her the instigator。 stirring up trouble； now thats what mrs。 van daan calls fun。 stirring up trouble between mrs。 frank and anne。 margot and mr。 frank aren t qwte as easy。
but lets return to the table。 mrs。 van d。 may think she doesnt always get enough； but thats not the case。 the choicest potatoes； the tastiest morsel； the tenderest bit of whatever there is； thats madames motto。 the others can all have their turn； as long as i get the best。 （exactly what she accuses anne frank of doing。） her second watchword is： keep talking。 as long as somebodys listening； it doesnt seem to occur to her to wonder whether theyre interested。 she must think that whatever mrs。 van daan says will interest everyone。
smile coquettishly； pretend you know everything； offer everyone a piece of advice and mother them thats sure to make a good impression。 but if you take a better look； the good impression fades。 one； shes hardworking； two； cheerful； three； coquettish and sometimes a cute face。 thats petronella van daan。
the third diner。 says very little。 young mr。 van daan is usually quiet and hardly makes his presence known。 as far as his appetite is concerned； hes a danaldean vessel that never gets full。 even after the most substantial meal； he can look you calmly in the eye and claim he could have eaten twice as much。
number four margot。 eats like a bird and doesnt talk at all。 she eats only vegetables and fruit。 〃spoiled；〃 in the opinion of the van daans。 〃too little exercise and fresh air；〃 in ours。
beside her mama。 has a hearty appetite； does her share of the talking。 no one has the impression； as they do with mrs。 van daan； that this is a housewife。 whats the difference between the two？ well； mrs。 van d。 does the cooking and mother does the dishes and polishes the furniture。
numbers six and seven。 i wont say much about father and me。 the former is the most modest person at the table。 he always looks to see whether the others have been served first。 he needs nothing for himself； the best things are for the children。
hes goodness personified。 seated next to him is the annexs little bundle of nerves。
dussel。 help yourself； keep your eyes on the food； eat and dont talk。 and if you have to say something； then for goodness sake talk about food。 that doesnt lead to quarrels； just to bragging。 he consumes enormous portions； and 〃no〃 is not part of his vocabulary； whether the food is good or bad。
pants that e up to his chest； a red jacket； black patent…leather slippers and horn…rimmed glasses thats how he looks when hes at work at the little table； always studying and never progressing。 this is interrupted only by his afternoon nap； food and his favorite spot the bathroom。 three； four or five times a day theres bound to be someone waiting outside the bathroom door； hopping impatiently from one foot to another； trying to hold it in and barely managing。 does dussel care？
not a whit。 from seven…fifteen to seven…thirty； from twelve…thirty to one； from two to two…fifteen； from four to four…fifteen； from six to six…fifteen； from eleven…thirty to twelve。 you can set your watch by them； these are the times for his 〃regular sessions。〃 he never deviates or lets himself be swayed by the voices outside the door； begging him to open up before a disaster occurs。
number nine is not part of our annex family； although she does share our house and table。 hep has a healthy appetite。 she cleans her plate and isnt choosy。 heps easy to please and that pleases us。 she can be characterized as follows： cheerful； good…humored； kind and willing。
tuesday； august 10； 1943
dearest kitty； 。
a new idea： during meals i talk more to myself than to the others； which has two advantages。 first； theyre glad they dont have to listen to my continuous chatter； and second； i dont have to get annoyed by their opinions。 i dont think my opinions are stupid but other people do； so its better to keep them to myself。 i apply the same tactic when i have to eat something i loathe。 i put the dish in front of me； pretend its delicious； avoid looking at it as much as possible； and its gone before ive had time to realize what it is。 when i get up in the morning； another very disagreeable moment； i leap out of bed； think to myself； 〃youll be slipping back under the covers soon；〃 walk to the window； take down the blackout screen； sniff at the crack until i
feel a bit of fresh air； and im awake。 i strip the bed as fast as i can so i wont be tempted to get back in。 do you know what mother calls this sort of thing？ the art of living。 isnt that a funny expression？
weve all been a little confused this past week because our dearly beloved westertoren bells have been carted off to be melted down for the war； so we have no idea of the exact time； either night or day。 i still have hopes that theyll e up with a substitute； made of tin or copper or some such thing； to remind the neighborhood of the clock。
everywhere i go； upstairs or down； they all cast admiring glances at my feet； which are adorned by a pair of exceptionally beautiful （for times like these！） shoes。 miep managed to snap them up for 27。50 guilders。 burgundy…colored suede and leather with medium…sized high heels。 i feel as if i were on stilts； and look even taller than i already am。
yesterday was my unlucky day。 i pricked my right thumb with the blunt end of a big needle。 as a result； margot had to peel potatoes for me （take the good with the bad）； and writing was awkward。 then i bumped into the cupboard door so hard it nearly knocked me over； and was scolded for making such a racket。 they wouldnt let me run water to bathe my forehead； so now im walking around with a giant lump over my right eye。 to make matters worse； the little toe on my right foot got stuck in the vacuum cleaner。 it bled and hurt； but my other ailments were already causing me so much trouble that i let this one slide； which was stupid of me； because now im walking around with an infected toe。 what with the salve； the gauze and the tape； i cant get my heavenly new shoe on my foot。
dussel has put us in danger for the umpteenth time。 he actually had miep bring him a book； an anti…mussolini tirade； which has been banned。 on the way here she was knocked down by an ss motorcycle。 she lost her head and shouted 〃you brutes！〃 and went on her way。 i dont dare think what would have happened if shed been taken down to headquarters。
yours； anne
a daily chore in our little munity： peeling potatoes！
one person goes to get some newspapers； another； the knives （keeping the best for himself； of course）； the third； the potatoes； and the fourth； the water。
mr。 dussel begins。 he may not always peel them very well； but he does peel nonstop；
glancing left and right to see if everyone is doing it the way he does。 no； theyre not！
〃look； anne； i am taking peeler in my hand like so and going from the top to bottom！
nein； not so 。 。 。 but so！鈥�
〃i think my way is easier； mr。 dussel；〃 i say tentatively。
〃but this is best way； anne。 this you can take from me。 of course； it is no matter； you do the way you want。鈥�
we go on peeling。 i glance at dussel out of the corner of my eye。 lost in thought； he shakes his head （over me； no doubt）； but says no more。
i keep on peeling。 then i look at father； on the other side of me。 to father； peeling potatoes is not a chore； but precision work。 when he reads； he has a deep wrinkle in the back of his head。 but when hes preparing potatoes； beans or vegetables； he seems to be totally absorbed in his task。 he puts on his potato…peeling face； and when its set in that particular way； it would be impossible for him to turn out anything less than a perfectly peeled potato。
i keep on working。 i glance up for a second； but thats all the time i need。 mrs。 van d。 is trying to attract dussels attention。 she starts by looking in his direction； but dussel pretends not to notice。 she winks； but dussel goes on peeling。 she laughs； but dussel still doesnt look up。 then mother laughs too； but dussel pays them no mind。
having failed to achieve her goal； mrs。 van d。 is obliged to change tactics。 theres a brief silence。 then she says； 〃putti； why dont you put on an apron？ otherwise； ill have to spend all day tomorrow trying to get the spots out of your suit！鈥�
〃im not getting it dirty。鈥�
another brief silence。 〃putti； why dont you sit down？ 〃im fine this way。 i like standing up！鈥�
silence。
〃putti； look out； du spritzt schon！〃。* ＇*now youre splashing！＇ 〃i know； mommy； but im being careful。鈥�
mrs。 van d。 casts about for another topic。 〃tell me； putti； why arent the british
carrying out any bombing raids today？鈥�
〃because the weathers bad； kerli！鈥�
〃but yesterday it was such nice weather and they werent flying then either。鈥�
〃lets drop the subject。鈥�
〃why？ cant a person talk about that or offer an opinion？ 〃well； why in the world not？鈥�
〃oh； be quiet； mammichen！〃* ＇*mommy＇ 〃mr。 frank always answers his wife。鈥�
mr。 van d。 is trying to control himself。 this remark always rubs him the wrong way； but mrs。 van d。s not one to quit： 〃oh； theres never going to be an invasion！鈥�
mr。 van d。 turns white； and when she notices it； mrs。 van d。 turns red； but shes not about to be deterred： 〃the british arent doing a thing！鈥�
the bomb bursts。 〃and now shut up； donnerwetter noch mal！* ＇*for crying out loud！〃＇ mother can barely stifle a laugh； and i stare straight ahead。
scenes like these are repeated almost daily； unless theyve just had a terrible fight。 in that case； neither mr。 nor mrs。 van d。 says a word。
its time for me to get some more potatoes。 i go up to the attic； where peter is busy picking fleas from the cat。
he looks up； the cat notices it； and whoosh。 。 。 hes gone。 out the window and into the rain gutter。
peter swears； i laugh and slip out of the room。
freedom