Please, Somebody Make It Stop by Bill Adler Jr.

Please, Somebody Make It Stop by Bill Adler Jr. Please, Somebody Make It Stop was first published by Blood Moon Rising. The Chinese translation follows the English version of this horror story. I hope you enjoy Please, Somebody Make It Stop. If you like Please, Somebody Make It Stop, you might also like my time travel, love story novella, No Time to Say Goodbye, which is available on Amazon. You can find me on Facebook, Twitter and my website. Bill Adler Jr. www.adlerbooks.com Gilbert Mattingly usually tuned his car radio to NPR during his morning drive. National Public Radio s Morning Edition was a balanced mix of hard news and light stories good for catching up with yesterday s world and for hearing slice-of-life stories. But the day before, Rae had given him a shower radio for his birthday. On this morning, Gil had heard enough of the show, which repeated every hour between 6 AM and 10 AM, during his shower. He didn t want to listen to Morning Edition again. After all, nobody hoped to hear a story on the songbirds of Madagascar more than once. Gil decided that if he was going to listen to an alternative morning drive show with too much inane chatter and too many pop hits, it might as well be a station all the way at the other end of the radio dial, so he tuned into Kiss 108 for his morning commute from Medford to Cambridge, Massachusetts. The radio played The Star and Gil sang along. Mary Anne

Loving s new song was number one for good reason: The Star spoke to the heart of anyone who d ever been in love or wanted to be in love. The lyrics were a flawless diamond. The melody was textured, vibrant, and energized. The song was like the best meal you ve ever had, flavored flashbacks reopening the door to that meal long after the food was gone. Mary Ann Loving probably wasn t the singer s real name, and she may not even have penned the lyrics, but who cared? It was an enchanting, enriching song. Do you know that star? Do you know that sky? Have you thanked that star? Have you kissed your guy? Tonight you ll sleep, the star shining on you both Tonight you ll sleep, taking a solemn oath Warmed by the starry night Feeling alright. Gil still had The Star in his head as he walked into the office of Mattingly & Spring Architects at 8:30 AM. Song s stuck in your head, too? asked Aiko Maki, one of the six architects in Gil s firm. Gil thought that he had been singing it silently to himself, but he d apparently been crooning to anyone who was within five feet of his lips.

Oh my God, Gil said as his cheeks became beets. I didn t know that I was singing it out loud. He blushed harder. Sorry about that. Hey, no problem, Aiko replied. It s been stuck in my head all morning long, too. For as long as this morning s been so far, that is. She smiled at Gil. I just hope that I haven t been singing it out loud without knowing it, too. It s a great song, but I have a frog s voice. As Gil waited for the Keurig machine to brew his cup of vanilla cream coffee, The Star echoed in his head. This is one hell of an earworm, he thought. Gil carried his coffee into the conference room. Hovering over blueprints for a new dormitory at Harvard, he asked his team of architects all six, as well as two consulting engineers who were assembled if the walls could be made thinner to enable two more dorm rooms to fit on each hall. Harvard s not getting any smaller, he said. The more rooms, the better.they asked for a design with forty rooms per hall. I want to give them forty-two. Can do? David Apple, one of the consulting engineers, was the first to reply. It s going to diminish the soundproofness of the rooms, that s a given. But we need to find a way to reroute the pipes that are adjacent to the bathrooms if we make the walls thinner. They won t fit if we reduce the wall thickness to...um...to Apple paused for moment and looked down at his ipad. Three inches between rooms. I know, Gil said. Can we do this if we add pressure pumps and use the new plastic pipes from your guy? Seven puzzled faces stared at Gil, who then recognized his blunder. I mean from Indiana Plastic Works? Gil shook his head slowly, mystified and embarrassed by his mistake. Damn song, he thought. It s still stuck in my head.

Hiro pointed to the bathroom on the blueprint, which was located at the center of the hall, and asked, What if we move the bathrooms to the ends? We could have two smaller ones, instead of one starry night. We might even be able to eke out forty-three rooms per floor. She paused and then said, I m so sorry. I don t know why I said starry night. I meant bathroom. I think we all have The Star stuck in our heads, Gil said. And it s getting stronger, Amy Spring, Gil s partner, added. Yes, said a voice on the other side of the table. Karen Sands, fresh from Yale s architecture school and the firm s most recent hire, nodded as she continued. Not louder, but stronger, like Amy said. It s as if the song is muscling its way into my head and pushing out all other thoughts. It s like a gangster. Or the Burmese python forcing out the native species in South said Tony Levitan. In...in...the south somewhere. Florida, David Apple helped. Just then, everyone abruptly turned to the music coming from the other side of the room. Hamilton Parker was slumped in one of the Aeron Miller chairs, eyes closed and hands resting on his lap. As Parker sat and sang, Do you know that star? Do you know that sky? Have you thanked that star? Have you kissed your guy? half the room joined in chorus, following in unison with, Tonight you ll sleep, the star shining on you both. Tonight you ll sleep, taking a solemn oath. Warmed by the starry night, feeling alright. A few seconds later, Loving s song began to spill from everyone s lips. The conference room became an ensemble of eager, off-key melody. The wooden sculptures of antelopes and giraffes that were on the bookcase vibrated in concert, as if animated by the song s spirit.

Do you know that star? Do you know that sky? Have you thanked that star? Have you kissed your guy? And again. And another time. Nobody was keeping track of how many times they sang The Star. It could have been three and it could have been thirty. Suddenly, the sound of an explosion of metal and glass filled the room. The shockwave nearly knocked Gil and everyone else off their feet; they wobbled like drinking glasses in an earthquake. Gil and his colleagues stopped singing and dashed to the second-story window, where they saw that a Mercedes had nearly sliced an MBTA bus in half. The sight of all that blood and those body parts, the sound of all those caterwaul cries, turned Gil s stomach into acid. Gil picked up the phone at the end of conference table and dialed 911. 911. Where is your emergency? is what Gil remembered from movies and television. Do you know that star? Do you know that sky? is what came through his telephone s earpiece. Tonight you ll sleep, the star shining on you both. Tonight you ll sleep, taking a solemn oath, Gil sang back as he swayed on his feet. Gil! Amy shouted, the teak table reverberating against her pounding fist. Gil s upper body jerked. Pay attention! he scolded the nameless operator at the other end of the wire. There s been a horrific crash between a car and bus at 301 Grace Place, Cambridge. Yes. This is 911. Where is your emergency?

301 Grace Place, Cambridge. A car crash. People are dead. Send ambulances. Hurry. He put down the phone. More screaming from the street below pulled Gil to the window once more. And then another car ran into the bus, more metal trying to reshape other metal, sparks shooting out from where the two vehicles intersected. While the architects and engineers pressed their noses to the window, mouths opened wide in horror, Gil called 911 again. There s been another accident, he said. Another car crashed into the same bus in front of 301 Grace Place in Cambridge. Across the street from the Lange Theater. Gil hoped that the name of one of Massachusetts most famous landmarks would help the ambulance navigate more quickly. We ll send an ambulance, the dispatcher said. Send several fast, Gil implored. Sir, there are accidents throughout Boston. Over two hundred calls have come in. We re working as fast as we can. If you or anyone has first aid training please render assistance in the meanwhile. The operator cut the line abruptly. Probably another emergency call coming in, Gil thought, though he also thought that he heard the 911 operator s voice chanting, Do you know that star? as she terminated the call. One of the architects in the conference room had already begun to hum the song again. Now a second, Aiko, was singing, and then almost immediately another of Gil s staff was mouthing the lyrics. Gil knew that he had only seconds, if that. He picked up an unopened Perrier bottle and hurled it toward the window. The window didn t break, but the bottle did, shattering green glass, water, and the song that was now coming out of almost everyone s mouths.

Gil! Amy roared. She blinked several times, shook her head like a dog drying after a bath, and asked, What did you do? We have a problem. Nobody say anything. Nobody talk, Gil said. He squeezed his pointer finger hard against his lips. Gil tapped a key on the conference room s laptop to wake up the computer. With fast-flying fingers, he keyed in a few commands and, most consciously, muted the laptop. Gil typed CNN in the search bar. A jumble of bad grammar and incomplete thoughts projected on the conference room s screen. whole world song stuck. President national emergency. Loud noises frights may minutes cure. FCC order all AMFM stations shut. russia radio playing national amfum. England France lost contact. 27 known jet crashes. if ou dont yet hear the star push sharp pencil in ears. Kill Ears. kill Ears.Turn off radio tv internet sound. Dont call 911 singers. An uneasy quiet filled the conference room. Gil read the words once, twice, and a third time. That was all. That was all that CNN had on its website. It was 9:45 AM. The screams outside faded. And then something else came. Karen, the youngest person in the room with the best hearing, was the first to notice it floating up from the street. Initially, it was indistinct, but quickly the unmistakable chorale of dozens and dozens of men and women, boys and girls enveloped them: Do you know that star? Do you know that sky? Karen took a deep breath, opened her mouth, and sang, too. Gil joined Karen s singing. And then so did everybody else.

求求你, 谁能让它停下来 小比尔 阿德勒 求求你, 谁能让它停下来 初次发表在 血色月升 中文 版译自这篇微型小说的英文版 我希望您喜欢 求求你, 谁能让它停下来 如果您喜欢 求 求你, 谁能让它停下来, 您可能也会喜欢我的时间旅行爱情 中篇小说 来不及说再见 您可以访问我的 Facebook Twitter 以及 网站 小比尔 阿德勒 吉尔伯特 马丁利早晨开车的时候一般都听 NPR 电台 全国公共广播电台 (NPR) 的 早间节目 又有硬新闻, 又有轻松小故事 让你既能了解时事又能聆听生活 小品 前一天, 蕾送给他一台浴室收音机做生日礼物 早间节目 从 6 点到 10 点每小时都会重复播放 今天 早上吉尔洗澡的时候算是听够了 他不想再听这档节目 了 毕竟谁也不想听两遍马达加斯加鸣鸟的故事

吉尔觉得要是换个早间节目开车听, 反正电台净是些闲 聊和流行歌曲, 还不如干脆转到收音机另一头的节目 于是今天早上, 在从马萨诸塞州梅德福开到剑桥的上班 路上, 他调到亲吻 108 台 电台正在放 星星, 吉尔 跟着哼唱起来 玛丽 安妮 洛雯的新歌占据排行榜第一 位不无道理 : 星星 唱出了所有恋爱过, 或者想恋爱 的人的心声 这首歌的歌词完美无瑕, 旋律充满质感 活力与朝气 就像是一顿最美味可口的饭菜, 让你过后 许久还回味无穷 玛丽 安妮 洛雯应该不是这位歌手的 真名, 歌词估计也不是她写的, 但是谁在乎呢? 这首歌 真是令人陶醉 1 你知道那颗星星吗? 你知道那片天空吗?

你感恩那颗星星了吗? 你亲吻你的男人了吗? 今夜的你即将熟睡, 星光灿烂把你俩照耀 今夜的你即将熟睡, 一起许下神圣的诺言 繁星之夜将你温暖 多么如痴如醉 早上 8 点, 吉尔走进马丁利 & 斯普林建筑师事务所的办 公室, 脑子里还想着 星星 你也老想这首歌啊? 真纪爱子问, 她是吉尔事务所里 六名建筑师之一

吉尔以为他只是默默地在心里唱而已, 原来离他一米多 远的人都能听见他哼哼 2 哦, 我的天, 吉尔说道, 脸红得直发紫, 我都不知道 我唱出声来了 他的脸更红了, 真不好意思啊 嘿, 没事儿, 爱子说, 这首歌我也想了一早上了 从 一大早到现在, 真的 她冲吉尔笑笑, 但愿我没也无意 识地唱出声来 这歌太好听了, 但我就是一青蛙嗓 子 就在吉尔等着克里格咖啡机煮他那杯香草奶油咖啡的时 候, 星星 居然又在他脑子里响起来 这可真是个顽 固的耳虫, 他想 吉尔端着他的咖啡走进会议室 他附身看着给哈佛大学 设计的新宿舍蓝图, 问他的建筑师团队 总共六个人

, 外加两名招来的顾问工程师 要不要把房间的墙设 计得再薄一点, 这样每个宿舍就能多容纳两个房间 哈佛只会越来越大, 他说, 所以房间越多越好 他们 想要每个宿舍容纳四十间房间 我给他们四十二间, 你 们看怎么样? 顾问工程师之一大卫 艾泊第一个回答说 : 这么做房间 的隔音效果就削弱了, 这是肯定的 要是把墙做薄, 我 们就得想办法重新走卫生间那的管道 如果房间之间的 墙薄到 呃 到 艾泊停了一下, 低头看了看 他的 ipad, 7.6 厘米的话, 那管道就不合适了 我知道, 吉尔说, 那我们要是加上压力泵, 再用上你 们的新塑胶管道行不行? 顿时七张茫然的脸同时盯着 吉尔, 他这才发现自己的口误 我是说 3

印第安纳塑胶厂的管道? 吉尔慢慢摇了摇头, 觉得自 己的口误莫名其妙又丢人 这破歌, 他想, 我怎么还在 想它 阿宏指着蓝图上位于宿舍中心的卫生间问 : 要是把卫 生间挪到两头呢? 我们可以设计两个小号的, 不要一个 繁星之夜 没准我们能在每层放下四十三间房间呢 她顿了一下然后说, 对不起, 我不知道怎么说成 繁星 之夜 了 我是说卫生间 我觉得咱们都着魔 星星 这首歌了 吉尔说 而且还越来越强烈 吉尔的搭档艾米 斯普林补充道 是啊 会议桌另一端的一个声音说 凯伦 桑德斯刚从 耶鲁建筑学院毕业, 是事务所新来的建筑师, 她一边点 头一边继续说 : 跟艾米说的一样, 歌声不是越来越大

, 而是越来越强烈了 就好像要强行霸占我的大脑, 把 别的想法都挤到一边似的 简直像黑帮流氓一样 或者像缅甸蟒把当地物种全排斥出去, 就在南 托 尼 拉维坦说, 在 在 南方的一个地儿 佛罗里达 大卫 艾泊接上 就在这时, 所有人突然注意到从屋里另一头传来的歌 声 汉密尔顿 帕克瘫坐在赫曼米勒的 Aeron 转椅上, 闭 着眼睛, 双手放在大腿上 他坐那唱起来 : 你 4 知道那颗星星吗? 你知道那片天空吗? 你感恩那颗星星 了吗? 你亲吻你的男人了吗? 屋里一半的人都加入进 来, 一齐合唱 : 今夜的你即将熟睡, 星光灿烂把你俩 照耀 今夜的你即将熟睡, 一起许下神圣的诺言 繁星 之夜将你温暖, 多么如痴如醉

几秒钟的功夫, 洛雯的歌从所有人的唇齿间涌了出来 整个会议室回荡着紧张又不和谐的旋律 书柜上的羚羊 和长颈鹿木雕也随着颤动起来, 好像被这首歌的灵魂所 牵动 你知道那颗星星吗? 你知道那片天空吗? 你感恩那颗星星了吗? 你亲吻你的男人了吗? 他们唱完一遍, 又唱了一遍 谁也不知道他们到底唱了 多少遍 星星 可能是三遍, 也可能是三十遍 忽然, 一声金属和玻璃爆炸的巨响冲进房间 冲击波差 点把吉尔和所有人撞倒 ; 他们摇摇晃晃得好像地震时左

右摇摆的酒杯 吉尔和他的同事停下来, 冲到二楼窗 前 他们看见一辆梅赛德斯把一辆波士顿公交几乎截成 了两半 眼前遍地血流 尸体横飞的景象, 还有那歇斯 底里的嚎哭, 让吉尔胃里直反酸 吉 5 尔抓起会议桌那头的电话拨打了 911 911 您的紧急情况在哪里 是吉尔跟电视和电影上看 到的 你知道那颗星星吗? 你知道那片天空吗? 是从他电话耳机传来的声音 今夜的你即将熟睡, 星光灿烂把你俩照耀 今夜的你 即将熟睡, 一起许下神圣的诺言 吉尔接着唱起来, 摇摆着身体 吉尔! 艾米嚷道, 柚木的桌子被她捶得咚咚作响

吉尔的上身猛地一颤 注意听我说! 他责备起电话那 头无名的接线员, 剑桥市格雷斯街 301 号刚刚发生了 一起惨祸, 一辆车和一辆公交撞上了 喂, 这里是 911 您的紧急情况在哪儿? 剑桥市格雷斯街 301 号 车祸 人都死了 叫救护车 来 快点 他放下电话 楼下街上又传来尖叫声, 把吉尔再次引到窗前 这时又 一辆车朝公交撞去, 更多变形的金属揉在一块, 两辆车 间火星四溅 建筑师和工程师们的鼻子贴着窗户, 惊恐 中嘴都张得大大的, 吉尔再次拨通了 911 这又发生 一起车祸, 他说, 剑桥市格雷斯街 301 号前面, 又有 一辆车撞进刚才那辆公交了 就在朗格剧院对面 吉 尔希望这个马萨褚塞州最著名的地标之一能帮救护车快 点找 6

到这儿 我们会派救护车过去 调度员说 快点多派几辆来 吉尔恳求道 先生, 目前波士顿到处都是事故 报警电话已经超过 两百通 我们已经尽可能得快了 如果您或任何人有过 急救培训请先协助救人 接线员一下挂断了电话 肯 定是又接到报警电话了, 吉尔想, 不过调度员挂电话的 时候他好像听见她唱 : 你知道那颗星星吗? 会议室里一名建筑师又开始哼那首歌了 不到一秒的功 夫, 爱子也唱了起来, 紧接着吉尔的另一名员工也对起 口型来 吉尔知道他得争分夺秒 他抓起一瓶没打开过 的 Perrier 巴黎水朝窗户砸过去 结果窗户没砸碎, 瓶 子却碎了, 绿色玻璃和水到处都是, 打断了此刻几乎所 有人都在唱的那首歌

吉尔! 艾米吼道 她挤挤眼睛, 摇摇脑袋, 像一只刚 洗完澡的落水狗, 问道 : 你干什么呢? 我觉得不对劲 谁也别说话, 谁也别出声 吉尔说 他的食指紧紧按在嘴唇上 吉尔拿钥匙轻触唤醒会议室的笔记本电脑 他的手指飞 快地输入了几条指令, 然后特意把电脑调到静音 吉尔 在搜索栏里输入 CNN 一团语法混乱 残破的句 7 子投影在会议室大屏幕上 全世界歌曲着魔 总统全国紧急 大声噪音惊吓可以几 分钟治愈 联邦通信委员会下令关闭所有 AMFM 电台 俄罗斯电台播放国哥 英法失联 已知 27 架飞机坠 毁 如果尼没听过 星星 把削尖铅笔捅进耳朵 杀死

耳朵 杀死耳朵 关闭电台电视网络声音 别打 911 歌 手 会议室里顿时充满了紧张的寂静 吉尔又读了一遍新闻, 两遍, 三遍 就这些 CNN 网站上就只有这些 现 在是上午 9 点 45 分. 外面的尖叫声逐渐远去了 这时候又有别的东西出现 了 凯伦, 屋里最年轻 听力最好的那个, 第一个发现 它从街上飘来 先开始还模糊不清, 不过马上, 几十个 男男女女的大合唱将他们包围在其中 : 你知道那颗星 星吗? 你知道那片天空吗? 凯伦深吸了一口气, 张开 嘴, 唱了起来 吉尔跟着凯伦唱了起来 所有人都唱了 起来 Bill Adler Jr. Licenced under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-ND 4.0), which means you are free to share and use this story in its original, unmodified form, but not for commercial purposes. Questions, please contact me via www.adlerbooks.com.