gossip girl 11 英文-第5部分

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staircase　toward　an　impeccably　dressed　attendant。　

？I？m　here　to　see　。　。　。　uh　。　。　。　Captain　Chips；？　Nate　said　stupidly；　realizing　he　couldn？t　even　
remember　Chips？s　last　name。　？I？m　Nate；　um；　Nathaniel　Archibald。？　The　attendant　looked　down　at　
his　metal　clipboard　and　quickly　found　his　name；　placing　a　neat　check　mark　right　beside　it。　

？Right　this　way；　Mr。　Archibald。　CaptainWhite　is　expecting　you　in　the　Grill　Room。？　The　attendant　
emphasized　the　name　White；　as　if　implying　that　Nate　ought　to　remember　it。　Nate　gulped　and　
followed　him　down　the　wooden　stairs　to　a　set　of　heavy　oak　doors。　

The　gracefully　curved　ceiling　of　the　Grill　Room　was　fashioned　out　of　planks　of　oak；　the　floors　
and　walls　paneled　in　the　dark　wood。　Round　tables　covered　in　white　linen　tablecloths　were　
scattered　around　the　cozy；　underground　space。　It　was　like　being　in　the　belly　of　a　tall　ship；　and　Nate　
instantly　felt　a　thousand　times　more　fortable。　He　could　almost　hear　the　wood　creaking　under　
his　feet　as　he　was　led　toward　a　man　dressed　in　full　navy　uniform；　gold　medals　shining　on　his　lapels。　
His　white　hair　was　neatly　bed　back　from　a　deeply　tanned；　severely　lined　face。　A　gold　wedding　
band　winked　from　his　wrinkled；　leathery　hand。　As　Nate　approached；　the　man　stood　and　gripped　
Nate？s　palm。　

？Nate　Archibald。　You？re　the　spitting　image　of　your　father；？　Chips　growled　with　a　Scottish　accent。　
He　looked　at　Nate　with　crinkly…lidded　blue　eyes　beneath　bushy　white　brows；　and　motioned　to　the　
leather…cushioned　chair　across　from　his。　？Sit。　Have　a　drink。？　Chips　sat　back　down　and　gestured　to　
the　waiter；　a　man　in　his　forties　with　neatly　bed　sandy　hair　falling　over　a　wide　forehead。　Chips　
pointed　at　his　glassful　of　amber…colored　liquid　and　held　up　two　wizened　fingers。　？You　like　scotch？？　
He　cocked　an　eyebrow　at　Nate。　

？Sure。？　Nate　shuffled　his　legs　under　the　table。　？Anything？s　fine。？　The　waiter　leaned　in；　speaking　
softly。　？I？m　sorry；　sir；？　he　whispered　apologetically。　？I？m　going　to　need　to　see　some　ID。？　Nate　
paused　for　a　second；　feeling　like　he？d　been　trapped。　He？d　already　agreed　to　have　scotch；　but　now　
he？d　have　to　show　his　fake　ID。　Was　Chips　setting　him　up？　He　gulped　and　reached　into　the　back　
pocket　of　his　cargo　shorts；　retrieving　the　battered　brown　leather　wallet　his　dad　had　given　him　for　
his　sixteenth　birthday。　He　pulled　out　the　fake　ID　he？d　gotten　off　the　Internet。　It　looked　pretty　good；　
and　it　usually　worked？except　for　the　fact　they？d　mixed　up　the　hair　and　eyes　categories；　so　if　you　
read　it　closely　it　said　？brown　eyes；　green　hair。？　The　waiter　peered　at　the　ID　for　a　long　moment　and　
Nate　shifted　in　his　chair　guiltily。　When　the　waiter　looked　up；　he　shot　him　a　wry　smile。　？Very　
good；sir　；？　he　added；　handing　Nate　back　the　laminated　card。　


？I　always　say；？　Chips　declared；　？that　all　it　takes　to　cure　life？s　woes　is　a　bottle　of　good　scotch　and　
the　open　sea。？　He　chuckled　and　slapped　the　tabletop　with　one　hand　as　if　to　punctuate　his　speech。　

Nate　nodded　lamely　as　he　leaned　back　in　his　chair；　trying　to　get　fortable。　He　glanced　around　
the　room。　He　was　the　youngest　person　there　by　at　least　forty　years？clusters　of　wizened　old　men　
were　gathered　at　every　single　oak　table；　each　man　gruffer　and　stonier　than　the　next。　One　of　them　
had　an　actual　eye　patch。　The　old　cyclops　squinted　in　Nate？s　direction　with　his　one　good　eye。　
Before　Nate　could　start　to　muse　on　what　terrible　sailing　accident　had　caused　him　to　lose　his　
eyeball；　the　white…jacketed　waiter　returned　and　placed　a　glass　of　scotch　in　front　of　him。　

？Thank　you；？　he　mumbled。　

？Cheers；　my　boy。？　Chips　lifted　his　tumbler　and　then　took　a　huge　swig。　Nate　quickly　followed　suit；　
gagging　on　the　fiery　amber　liquid。　The　scotch　was　freaking　strong？stronger　than　anything　he？d　
ever　had？and　Chips　was　drinking　it　like　lemonade。Whowas　this　guy？　

？You？re　nothing　like　what　I　thought；？　Nate　blurted　out；　turning　red　and　taking　another　small；　
tentative　nip。　From　everything　his　dad　had　told　him　about　Chips；　Nate　had　thought　he　would　be　a　
total　hard…ass　who？d　give　him　lecture　on　getting　his　shit　together　the　second　he　sat　down。　But　so　
far　Chips　couldn？t　have　beenless　like　Nate？s　father。　He　seemed　almostmellow。　

？Ha！？　Chips　laughed；　slapping　his　stiff…looking　extended　leg。　？You　though　you　were　going　to　be　
meeting　Captain　White；　didn？t　you？　Some　cantankerous；　salt…waterlogged　old　geezer　who　would　
read　you　the　riot　act？　Maybe　a　hook　for　an　arm？　That　it？？　Nate　nodded；　blushing。　He　looked　over　
at　the　eye…patch　man；　hoping　he　hadn？t　heard　Chips？s　little　outburst。　He？d　probably　be　kind　of　
offended。　Who　knew　what　these　old　sailor　guys　were　like　when　they　got　angry？　？Well；　uh　。　。　。　yeah。　
I　mean；　my　dad？s　pretty　pissed　at　me　right　now　and　everything。　I　thought　he？d　send　me　to　
someone　who　knew　how　to　。　。　。　hunt。？　Chips　chuckled　and　drained　his　glass　in　one　even　swallow。　
He　signaled　the　waiter　for　a　refill。　The　waiter　appeared　at　his　side　almost　instantaneously；　picking　
up　the　empty　glass　and　whisking　it　quietly　away。　Nate　couldn？t　help　but　notice　that　for　a　place　
called　the　Grill　Room；　they　didn？t　seem　to　be　serving　much　of　anything　grilled？or　really　anything　
to　eat；　period。　Just　booze。　

　Who？s　plaining？　

Chips　turned　back　to　him　and　began　again。　？Well；　Nate；　let　me　tell　you？thatwas　me？a　long；long　
time　ago。　Back　when　I　was　your　dad？s　captain；　I　was　the　strictest；　most　serious　sonofabitch　
you？ve　ever　laid　eyes　on。　But　it？s　been　a　lot　of　years　since　then；　and　I？ve　learned　quite　a　few　
things。？　Chips　leaned　back　in　his　chair；　his　blue　eyes　twinkling。　？There？s　a　certain　kind　of　clarity　
that　es　with　old　age。You　really　learn　to　put　everything　into　perspective。　Youhave　to。？　The　
waiter　appeared　and　set　a　fresh　drink　down　in　front　of　him；　ice　cubes　rattling。　Chips　drummed　his　
fingers　on　the　snow　white　tablecloth。　His　eyes　scanned　the　room；　and　he　lifted　a　hand　and　gave　a　
small　wave　to　an　old　man　in　full　white　military　dress　who　looked　about　a　hundred　and　fifty　years　
old。　？What　are　your　priorities；　Nate？　What　doyou　want　from　life？？　Nate　was　silent　for　a　moment　


and　Chips　continued。　？For　me；　it？s　the　open　sea？the　sun　on　my　face；　the　sound　of　waves。？　He　
closed　his　eyes。　？The　simple　things。　The　good　stuff。？　He　opened　his　eyes　and　raised　his　glass。　Nate　
took　another　burning　gulp。　

The　simple　things　sounded　good　to　Nate。　In　fact；　they　soundedright　。　He　was　so　tired　of　
everything　being　so　。　。　。　challenging。Why　couldn？t　things　just　be　easy　for　a　change？　

Being　the　prince　of　the　Upper　East　Side　isso　exhausting。　Chips　opened　the　large　white　menu　and　
perused　it　thoughtfully；　humming　softly　to　himself。　

Nate　looked　at　him　over　the　top　of　his　menu　and　suddenly　wished　there　were　a　menu　for　real　
life？one　that　listed　all　of　his　options；　and　how　much　they　cost。　？I　don？t　know　what　I　want；？　he　
admitted；　his　voice　echoing　in　the　cavernous　room。　The　minute　he　said　it　aloud；　he　knew　it　was　
true。　He　looked　around　again　at　all　the　old　sailors；　each　and　every　one　a　man　who？d　chosen　a　path　
in　life　and　stuck　with　it。　One　had　even　lost　an　eye　over　what　he？d　chosen。　Or　maybe　they　were　just　
a　bunch　of　old　seaworthy　fuckups。　

？I？ll　tell　you　one　thing。？　Chips　closed　his　menu　and　leaned　across　the　table。　？You？ve　got　to　think　
with　your　balls；　not　your　dick。？　His　breath　smelled　like　applesauce　laced　with　grain　
alcohol。　？Because　the　men　who　think　with　their　dicks　are　cowards；？　he　finished；　leaning　back　and　
nodding　sagely。　

Nate　felt　himself　nodding　back；　even　though　he　had　no　idea　what　Chips　was　talking　about。　Had　
he　been　thinking　with　his　balls　or　his　dick？　Was　he　a　coward？　Itwas　kind　of　cowardly　not　to　have　
told　Blair　that　he　hadn？t　really　graduated；　that　he　wasn？t　going　to　Yale　with　her。　。　。　。　

Chips　summoned　the　waiter　again。　？Two　hard…boiled　eggs　and　a　shaker　of　salt；？　he　
manded。　？For　both　of　us。？　Nate　surrendered　his　menu　to　the　waiter。　Chips　seemed　to　think　
his　？I　don？t　know　what　I　want？　was　about　the　food。　Nate　hated　hard…boiled　eggs；　and　all　this　talk　
of　thinking　with　his　dick　and　balls　had　kind　of　taken　away　his　appetite　for　anything　but　that　strong；　
barely　drinkable　scotch；　anyway。　

Well；　drink　up；　honey。　It　might　help　you　gro