《渺小一生》:一個更好的朋友是會這樣。

　 The next morning he woke very early, creeping past Willem sleeping on the sofa at the far end of his bedroom, and walked through the apartment. Someone had put flowers in every room, or branches of maple leaves, or bowls of squashes. The space smelled delicious, like apples and cedar. He went to his study, where someone had stacked his mail on his desk, and where Malcolm’s little paper house sat atop a stack of books. He saw unopened envelopes from JB, from Asian Henry Young, from India, from Ali, and knew they had made drawings for him. He walked past the dining-room table, letting his fingers skim along the spines of the books lined up on their shelves; he wandered into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator and saw that it was filled with things he liked. Richard had started working more with ceramics, and at the center of the dining table was a large, amorphous piece, the glaze rough and pleasant under his palms, painted with white threadlike veins. Next to it stood his and Willem’s Saint Jude statue, which Willem had taken with him when he moved to Perry Street, but which had now found its way back to him.

次日早晨他很早就醒來，躡手躡腳經(jīng)過睡在臥室另一頭沙發(fā)上的威廉，在公寓里四處轉(zhuǎn)了一圈。有人在每個房間擺了鮮花，或是整枝楓葉，或是一缽缽小南瓜。整個空間聞起來很宜人，就像蘋果和雪松木。他走到書房，看到有人把他的信件放在書桌上，馬爾科姆的紙制小房子放在一疊書上頭。他看到幾個沒拆的信封，寄件人有杰比、亞洲人亨利·楊、印蒂亞，還有阿里，于是知道里頭是他們替他畫的素描。他走過餐廳的桌子，手指滑過書架上成排的書脊；他走進廚房，打開冰箱，看到里頭裝滿他喜歡的食物。理查德之前開始做更多的陶瓷，餐桌中央就擺了他一件不規(guī)則的大型作品，上面的釉彩描出繩子般的白色紋路，摸起來粗糙而舒適。旁邊是他和威廉的圣裘德雕像，威廉搬去佩里街的時候帶走了，但現(xiàn)在又帶回來了。

　 The days slipped by and he let them. In the morning he swam, and he and Willem ate breakfast. The physical therapist came and had him practice squeezing rubber balls, short lengths of rope, toothpicks, pens. Sometimes he had to pick up multiple objects with one hand, holding them between his fingers, which was difficult. His hands shook more than ever, and he felt sharp prickles vibrating through his fingers, but she told him not to worry, that it was his muscles repairing themselves, his nerves resetting themselves. He had lunch, he napped. While he napped, Richard came to watch him and Willem went out to run errands and go downstairs to the gym and, he hoped, do something interesting and indulgent that didn’t involve him and his problems. People came to see him in the afternoon: all the same people, and new people, too. They stayed an hour and then Willem made them leave. Malcolm came with JB and the four of them had an awkward, polite conversation about things they had done when they were in college, but he was glad to see JB, and thought he might like to see him again when he was less cloudy-headed, so he could apologize to him and tell him he forgave him. As he was leaving, JB told him, quietly, “It’ll get better, Judy. Trust me, I know,” and then added, “At least you didn’t hurt anyone in the process,” and he felt guilty, because he knew he had. Andy came at the end of the day and examined him; he unwrapped his bandages and cleaned the area around his stitches. He still hadn’t looked at his stitches—he couldn’t bring himself to—and when Andy was cleaning them, he looked elsewhere or closed his eyes. After Andy left, they ate dinner, and after dinner, after the boutiques and few remaining galleries had shuttered for the night and the neighborhood was deserted, they walked, making a neat square around SoHo—east to Lafayette, north to Houston, west to Sixth, south to Grand, east to Greene—before returning home. It was a short walk, but it left him exhausted, and he once fell on the way to the bedroom, his legs simply sliding out from beneath him. Julia and Harold took the train down on Thursdays and spent all day Friday and Saturday with him, and part of Sunday as well.

他任由日子一天天過去。早上他去游泳，回來后和威廉吃早餐。接著物理治療師過來要他練習(xí)握泡沫橡膠球、短繩子、牙簽、筆。有時他得用一只手拿起好幾樣?xùn)|西，夾在手指間，非常困難。他的手抖得比以前更厲害，手指感到陣陣刺骨的抽痛，但治療師告訴他別擔(dān)心，那是他的肌肉在自我修復(fù)，他的神經(jīng)在重新設(shè)定。然后他吃午餐，小睡一下。他午睡時，理查德就過來看著，威廉則出門辦些事情，或是下樓去健身房，或者，他希望，去做一些有趣、放縱，跟他及他的問題無關(guān)的事情。下午會有人來看他，除了以前那些老面孔，也有新面孔。他們會待一個小時，然后威廉就會請他們離開。馬爾科姆和杰比來過，他們四人有一段尷尬、禮貌的談話，聊著大學(xué)時代做過的事，但他很高興看到杰比，希望等自己腦袋不那么糊涂時可以再碰面，以便跟他道歉，告訴他自己原諒他了。杰比離開前小聲告訴他：“一切都會好轉(zhuǎn)的，裘德。相信我，我懂的?！比缓笥终f：“至少你在這個過程中沒有傷害任何人?！彼X得內(nèi)疚，因為他知道他有。安迪晚上會過來給他做檢查，拆掉繃帶，清理縫線周圍的區(qū)域。他還是沒看過自己手上的縫線（他沒有勇氣看），所以安迪清理時，他就看別的地方或是閉上眼睛。安迪離開后，他和威廉吃晚餐，吃過晚餐，附近的精品店和少數(shù)幾家畫廊都打烊了，路上空寂無人，此時他們就出門散步，繞著蘇荷區(qū)走一個正方形的路線，往東到拉斐特街，往北到休斯敦街，往西到第六大道，往南到格蘭特街，往東到格林街，然后回家。這段路很短，但走得他筋疲力盡。有次回家后，他雙腿突然一軟，在走往臥室的中途倒下。朱麗婭和哈羅德每周四坐火車來，整個周五、周六，外加周日半天都陪著他。

　 Every morning, Willem asked him, “Do you want to talk to Dr. Loehmann today?” And every morning he answered, “Not yet, Willem. Soon, I promise.”

每天早上，威廉都會問他：“你今天想跟婁曼醫(yī)生談?wù)剢?？”他每天早上都回答：“還沒準(zhǔn)備好，威廉。但快了，我保證?！?

　 By the end of October, he was feeling stronger, less shaky. He was managing to stay awake for longer stretches at a time. He could lie on his back and hold a book up without it trembling so badly that he had to roll over onto his stomach so he could prop it against a pillow. He could butter his own bread, and he could wear shirts with buttons again because he was able to slip the button into its hole.

到了十月底，他覺得強壯一些，沒那么虛弱了，清醒的時間也可以維持得比較久。他可以躺著拿起一本書看，不會顫抖得必須轉(zhuǎn)身趴著，好把書靠在枕頭上；吃面包時可以自己涂奶油；也可以穿上有扣子的襯衫，因為他現(xiàn)在可以把扣子塞進扣眼了。

　 “What’re you reading?” he asked Willem one afternoon, sitting next to him on the living-room couch.

“你在讀什么？”某天下午他跟威廉坐在客廳沙發(fā)上，他問威廉。

　 “A play I’m thinking of doing,” Willem said, putting the pages down.

“一個劇本，我在考慮要接。”威廉說，放下手上的那疊紙。

　 He looked at a point beyond Willem’s head. “Are you going away again?” It was monstrously selfish to ask, but he couldn’t stop himself.

他看著威廉腦袋后方的一個點?！澳阌忠x開了嗎？”這樣問實在自私得可怕，但他忍不住。

　 “No,” said Willem, after a silence. “I thought I’d stick around New York for a while, if that’s okay with you.”

“不，”威廉頓了一下說，“我想我會留在紐約一陣子，如果你覺得可以的話?！?

　 He smiled at the couch’s cushions. “It’s fine with me,” he said, and looked up to see Willem smiling at him. “It’s nice to see you smile again,” was all he said, and went back to reading.

他對著沙發(fā)上的椅墊微笑。“我覺得可以?！彼f，然后抬頭看到威廉對著他微笑?！澳茉倏吹侥阈?，真的很好。”威廉只這么說，又繼續(xù)讀劇本。

　 In November he realized that he had done nothing to celebrate Willem’s forty-third birthday in late August, and mentioned it to him. “Well, technically, you get a pass, because I wasn’t here,” said Willem. “But sure, I’ll let you make it up to me. Let’s see.” He thought. “Are you ready to go out into the world? Do you want to have dinner? An early dinner?”

到了十一月，他才想到八月下旬威廉43歲生日的時候他毫無表示。他跟威廉提了?！斑恚瑖?yán)格來說，你并沒有錯過，因為我當(dāng)時不在紐約，”威廉說，“不過當(dāng)然，你要幫我補過也可以。我來看看。”他想了一下?！澳銣?zhǔn)備好要面對外面的世界了嗎？要不要出去吃頓晚餐？早一點去？”

　 “Sure,” he said, and they went the next week to a little Japanese place in the East Village that served pressed sushi and where they’d been going for years. He ordered his own food, although he had been nervous, worried that he was somehow choosing incorrectly, but Willem was patient and waited as he deliberated, and when he had decided, he’d nodded at him. “Good choice,” he said. As they ate, they spoke of their friends, and the play Willem had decided he was going to do, and the novel he was reading: anything but him.

“沒問題?！彼f。于是他們隔周去了東村一家賣壓制壽司的日料小店，這幾年來他們常去。他點了自己要吃的；他一直很緊張，擔(dān)心自己選錯了，但威廉很有耐心等他慢慢考慮。等到他決定了，威廉朝他點點頭?！斑x得好?！彼f。他們吃的時候，聊起兩人的朋友、威廉決定要接的那出戲，以及他在讀的一本小說。什么都聊，就是不聊他。

　 “I think we should go to Morocco,” he said as they walked slowly home, and Willem looked at him.

“我想我們應(yīng)該去摩洛哥?！彼麄兟⒉交丶視r他說。威廉看著他。

　 “I’ll look into it,” Willem said, and took his arm to move him out of the path of a bicyclist who was zooming down the street.

“我再想想?！蓖f，握住他的手臂，帶著他往旁邊挪，好避開迎面而來的騎車人。

　 “I want to get you something for your birthday,” he said, a few blocks later. Really, he wanted to get Willem something to thank him, and to try to express what he couldn’t say to him: a gift that would properly convey years of gratitude and love. After their earlier conversation about the play, he had remembered that Willem had, in fact, committed the previous year to a project that would be shooting in Russia in early January. But when he mentioned this to him, Willem had shrugged. “Oh, that?” he’d asked. “Didn’t work out. It’s fine. I didn’t really want to do it anyway.” He had been suspicious, though, and when he had looked online, there were reports that Willem had pulled out of the film for personal reasons; another actor had been cast instead. He had stared at the screen then, the story blurring before him, but when he had asked Willem about it, Willem had shrugged again. “That’s what you say when you realize you and the director really aren’t on the same page and no one wants to lose face,” he said. But he knew that Willem wasn’t telling him the truth.

“我想送你一個生日禮物?！边^了幾個街區(qū)后，他說。真的，他想送個東西給威廉謝謝他，表達他無法對威廉說出口的：一個可以適當(dāng)傳達他多年來的感激與愛的禮物。他們稍早談過那出戲之后，他想到威廉去年其實已經(jīng)答應(yīng)要接拍一部電影，預(yù)定一月初要去俄羅斯拍攝。但他問起時，威廉只是聳聳肩?！班福莻€啊，”他說，“結(jié)果沒成。沒關(guān)系，反正我也不是很想接?！彼軕岩桑谑巧暇W(wǎng)查，看到有報道說威廉因為私人原因退出那部電影，最后由另一名演員接演。當(dāng)時他看著屏幕，那篇報道在他眼前模糊起來，但后來他跟威廉問起，威廉又是聳聳肩。“如果你發(fā)現(xiàn)跟導(dǎo)演的想法實在不合，你就會這樣說。大家都不想沒面子?！彼f。但他知道威廉沒說實話。

　 “You don’t need to get me anything,” Willem said, as he knew he would, and he said (as he always did), “I know I don’t need to, but I want to.” And then he added, also as he always did, “A better friend would know what to get you and wouldn’t have to ask for suggestions.”

“你不必送什么給我?！蓖f。他早就知道威廉會這么說，而且一如往常，他回答說：“我知道我不必送，但是我想送?！彼盅a了一句，一如往常，“一個更好的朋友會懂得該送你什么，不必你建議?！?

　 “A better friend would,” Willem agreed, as he always did, and he smiled, because it felt like one of their normal conversations.

“一個更好的朋友是會這樣。”威廉同意，而他也是老樣子，同時微笑，因為感覺上這就像他們以往的正常對話。

　 More days passed. Willem moved back into his suite at the other end of the apartment. Lucien called him a few times to ask him about one thing or another, apologizing as he did, but he was happy to get his calls, and happy that Lucien now began their conversations by complaining about a client or a colleague instead of asking how he was. Aside from Tremain and Lucien and one or two other people, no one at the firm knew the real reason he’d been absent: they, like his clients, had been told he was recovering from emergency spinal cord surgery. He knew that when he returned to Rosen Pritchard, Lucien would immediately restart him on his normal caseload; there would be no talk of giving him an easy transition, no speculation about his ability to handle the stress, and he was grateful for that. He stopped taking his drugs, which he realized were making him feel dopey, and after they had left his system, he was amazed by how clear he felt—even his vision was different, as if a plate-glass window had been wiped clean of all grease and smears and he was finally getting to admire the brilliant green lawn beyond it, the pear trees with their yellow fruit.

又過去了很多天。威廉搬到公寓另一頭的套房。呂西安打了幾次電話來，問他一些事情，每回都會道歉，但他其實很開心接到他的電話，也很開心呂西安現(xiàn)在每次打來，都會先抱怨某個客戶或同事，而不是問候他狀況如何。除了特里梅因、呂西安和其他一兩個人，事務(wù)所沒人知道他缺席的真正原因：同事和客戶聽到的，都是他動了緊急的脊椎手術(shù)，現(xiàn)在正在復(fù)原期。他知道等他回到羅森·普理查德，呂西安會立刻派給他正常的工作量；不會說要讓他慢慢進入狀態(tài)，不會猜測他的抗壓能力，而他很感激。他沒再吃藥了，這才明白是那些藥害他遲鈍，等到藥效完全消退，他很驚訝自己整個人有多清醒——就連視野都不一樣了，好像把一面玻璃窗上所有的油污和臟痕擦掉，他終于可以看清外頭鮮綠的草坪，還有結(jié)著黃色果實的梨子樹。

　 But he also realized that the drugs had been protecting him, and without them, the hyenas returned, less numerous and more sluggish, but still circling him, still following him, less motivated in their pursuit but still there, his unwanted but dogged companions. Other memories came back to him as well, the same old ones, but new ones too, and he was made much more sharply aware of how severely he had inconvenienced everyone, of how much he had asked from people, of how he had taken what he would never, ever be able to repay. And then there was the voice, which whispered to him at odd moments, You can try again, you can try again, and he tried to ignore it, because at some point—in the same, undefinable way that he had decided to kill himself in the first place—he had decided he would work on getting better, and he didn’t want to be reminded that he could try again, that being alive, as ignominious and absurd as it often was, wasn’t his only option.

但他也明白那些藥之前一直保護著他，現(xiàn)在沒了藥，那些鬣狗又回來了，數(shù)量比較少，動作也比較緩慢，但還是繞著他打轉(zhuǎn)，跟著他不放，就算不那么起勁，也還是在那兒，成了一群討厭但頑強的同伴。其他記憶也回來了，同樣的老記憶，但也有新的，他強烈意識到自己為每個人造成多大的不便，欠了別人多少情，而且永遠償還不了。然后還有那個聲音，會在零碎的時刻忽然低語：“你可以再試一次，你可以再試一次?！彼囍焕頃驗樵谀硞€階段（就像他當(dāng)初決定自殺一樣，同樣無法說清確切時間），他就決定要努力好起來，所以他不想被提醒自己可以再試一次，而活著（往往讓他覺得可恥又荒謬）不是他唯一的選擇。

　 Thanksgiving came, which they once again had at Harold and Julia’s apartment on West End Avenue, and which was once again a small group: Laurence and Gillian (their daughters had gone to their husbands’ families’ houses for the holiday), him, Willem, Richard and India, Malcolm and Sophie. At the meal, he could feel everyone trying not to pay too much attention to him, and when Willem mentioned the trip they were taking to Morocco in the middle of December, Harold was so relaxed, so incurious, that he knew that he must have already thoroughly discussed it with Willem (and, probably, Andy) in advance, and given his permission.

感恩節(jié)到了，他們再度去哈羅德和朱麗婭在西端大道的公寓，而且又是一小群人共聚：勞倫斯和吉莉安（他們的兩個女兒去各自的夫家過節(jié)了）、他、威廉、理查德和印蒂亞、馬爾科姆和蘇菲。吃晚餐時，他感覺到每個人都在盡量不要太注意他。當(dāng)威廉提到他們十二月中要去摩洛哥旅行時，哈羅德的反應(yīng)太放松、太不好奇了，他知道他一定事先跟威廉徹底討論過（大概也跟安迪談過），也同意了。

　 “When do you go back to Rosen Pritchard?” asked Laurence, as if he’d been away on holiday.

“你什么時候要回羅森·普理查德上班？”勞倫斯問，好像他只是暫時放幾天假似的。