《渺小一生》:他會成為一個更滿懷愛意的人

　 It ends with Julia finally going to the kitchen and making another sandwich; it ends with him eating it, truly hungry for the first time in months; it ends with him spending the night in the extra bedroom, with Harold and Julia kissing him good night; it ends with him wondering if maybe time really is going to loop back upon itself after all, except in this rendering, he will have Julia and Harold as parents from the beginning, and who knows what he will be, only that he will be better, that he will be healthier, that he will be kinder, that he won’t feel the need to struggle so hard against his own life. He has a vision of himself as a fifteen-year-old, running into the house in Cambridge, shouting words—“Mom! Dad!”—he has never said before, and although he can’t imagine what would have made this dream self so excited (for all his study of normal children, their interests and behaviors, he knows few specifics), he understands that he is happy. Maybe he is wearing a soccer uniform, his arms and legs bare; maybe he is accompanied by a friend, by a girlfriend. He has probably never had sex before; he is probably trying at every opportunity to do so. He would think sometimes of who he would be as an adult, but it would never occur to him that he might not have someone to love, sex, his own feet running across a field of grass as soft as carpet. All those hours, all those hours he has spent cutting, and hiding the cutting, and beating back his memories, what would he do instead with all those hours? He would be a better person, he knows. He would be a more loving one.

最后朱麗婭又去廚房做了一個三明治；他吃了，好幾個月以來真的餓了；之后他在客房過夜，哈羅德跟他吻頰道晚安；他納悶時間是否真的會倒流，他又重活了一次童年，只不過這回他從一開始就有朱麗婭和哈羅德這對父母，天曉得他將來會成為什么樣，只不過他會變得更好、更健康、更善良，他不會覺得有必要掙扎得那么厲害，去對抗自己的人生。他看到一個15歲的自己，跑進劍橋市的一棟房子里，大聲喊出他從沒喊過的話：“媽媽！爸爸！”他無法想象是什么讓這個美夢如此令人興奮（他雖然會研究正常的兒童，觀察他們的興趣和行為，但他實際接觸過的兒童很少），但他知道那個自己很快樂?；蛟S他穿著橄欖球的球衣，露出雙臂和雙腿；或許他旁邊有個朋友或是女朋友陪著。他大概從來沒有過性經(jīng)驗；他大概會想盡辦法體驗看看。這個他，有時會想著自己長大后會怎么樣，但絕不會想到他不會有個人可以愛、可以上床，也絕對想不到他沒有雙腳可以跑過一片柔軟如地毯的田野。過去那么多時間、那么多個小時，他都用來割自己，然后把那些割傷藏起來，擊退他的回憶；如果那些時間能拿來做別的，他會變成什么樣？他知道他會成為一個更好的人。他會成為一個更滿懷愛意的人。

　 But maybe, he thinks, maybe it isn’t too late. Maybe he can pretend one more time, and this last bout of pretending will change things for him, will make him into the person he might have been. He is fifty-one; he is old. But maybe he still has time. Maybe he can still be repaired.

但或許，他心想，或許現(xiàn)在還不算太遲。或許他可以再假裝一次，而這最后一回合的假裝會改變很多事情，讓他變成他原先可能成為的那個人。他51歲了，他老了。但或許他還有時間，或許他還是可以修復(fù)的。

　 He is still thinking this on Monday when he goes to see Dr. Loehmann, to whom he apologizes for his awful behavior the week before—and the weeks before that, as well.

星期一他去看婁曼醫(yī)生時還在想著這件事情。咨詢一開始，他先對上個星期，包括之前好幾個星期自己惡劣的行為道歉。

　 And this time, for the first time, he really tries to talk to Dr. Loehmann. He tries to answer his questions, and to do so honestly. He tries to begin to tell a story he has only ever told once before. But it is very difficult, not only because the story is barely possible for him to speak, but because he cannot do so without thinking of Willem, and how when he had last told this story, he was with someone who had seen him the way no one had since Ana, with someone who had managed to see past who he was, and yet see him completely as well. And then he is upset, breathless, and he turns his wheelchair sharply—he is still six or seven pounds away from using his prostheses for walking again—and excuses himself and leaves Dr. Loehmann’s office, spinning down the hall to the bathroom, where he locks himself in, breathing slowly and rubbing his palm against his chest as if to soothe his heart. And here in the bathroom, which is cold and silent, he plays his old game of “If” with himself: If I hadn’t followed Brother Luke. If I hadn’t let myself be taken by Dr. Traylor. If I hadn’t let Caleb inside. If I had listened more to Ana.

這回，他頭一次真正試著跟婁曼醫(yī)生談。他設(shè)法回答醫(yī)生的問題，而且誠實地回答。他設(shè)法說出他之前只說過一次的那個故事。但是很困難，不光是他幾乎無法說出那個故事，也因為他說的時候無法不想到威廉，還有上次說出來的時候，他和一個從安娜以來、再也沒這樣看待他的人在一起，這個人忽略他過去是什么樣的人，卻也能完全看清他。之后他很難過，簡直喘不過氣，只得猛地轉(zhuǎn)開輪椅告退（他還得增加大約六七磅的體重，才有辦法用義肢走路），離開婁曼醫(yī)生的診間，沿著走廊迅速來到洗手間，把自己鎖在里面，緩緩地呼吸，用一只手掌揉著胸口，仿佛要緩和一下心臟。在這個冰冷寂靜的浴室里，他跟自己玩著“如果”的老游戲：如果我沒跟著盧克修士，如果我沒讓自己被特雷勒醫(yī)生帶走，如果我沒讓凱萊布進門，如果我更聽安娜的話。

　 On he plays, his recriminations beating a rhythm in his head. But then he also thinks: If I had never met Willem. If I had never met Harold. If I had never met Julia, or Andy, or Malcolm, or JB, or Richard, or Lucien, or so many other people: Rhodes and Citizen and Phaedra and Elijah. The Henry Youngs. Sanjay. All the most terrifying Ifs involve people. All the good ones do as well.

就在他玩這個游戲的時候，腦袋也不斷地反過來指責(zé)他。接著他想到：如果我從來沒認識威廉。如果我從來沒認識哈羅德。如果我從來沒認識朱麗婭，或安迪、馬爾科姆、杰比、理查德、呂西安，或者其他好多人，包括羅茲、西提任、菲德拉、伊利亞、兩個亨利·楊、桑杰。最可怕的如果假設(shè)都和人有關(guān)，但所有好的如果假設(shè)也帶有人的成分。

　 Finally he is able to calm himself, and he wheels himself out of the bathroom. He could leave, he knows. The elevator is there; he could send Mr. Ahmed back for his coat.

最后他終于冷靜下來，出了浴室。他知道自己可以離開，電梯就在那兒，他的大衣還留在診間里，他可以請艾哈邁德再過來幫他拿。

　 But he doesn’t. Instead he goes the other direction, and returns to the office, where Dr. Loehmann is still sitting in his chair, waiting for him.

但他沒離開。反之，他走向反方向，回到診間，婁曼醫(yī)生還坐在椅子上等著他。

　 “Jude,” says Dr. Loehmann. “You’ve come back.”

“裘德，”婁曼醫(yī)生說，“你回來了。”

　 He takes a breath. “Yes,” he says. “I’ve decided to stay.”

他吸了一口氣。“是的，”他說，“我決定留下來。”

　 [ VII ]

第七部分

　 Lispenard Street

利斯本納街

　 ON THE SECOND anniversary of your death, we went to Rome. This was something of a coincidence, and also not: he knew and we knew he’d have to be out of the city, far away from New York State. And maybe the Irvines felt the same way, because that was when they had scheduled the ceremony—at the very end of August, when all of Europe had migrated elsewhere, and yet we were flying toward it, that continent bereft of all its chattering flocks, all its native fauna.

你過世后兩周年，我們?nèi)チ肆_馬。這算是巧合，但同時也不是：他知道，我們也知道，他必須離開紐約市，遠離紐約州?；蛟S歐文夫婦也有同樣的想法，因為他們把儀式排在這個時候——在八月底，歐洲所有人都往外地跑，我們卻飛到那里，飛向那個失去了所有嘈雜人群、所有當?shù)貏游锏拇箨憽?/p>

　 It was at the American Academy, where Sophie and Malcolm had both once had residencies, and where the Irvines had endowed a scholarship for a young architect. They had helped select the first recipient, a very tall and sweetly nervous young woman from London who built mostly temporary structures, complex-looking buildings of earth and sod and paper that were meant to disintegrate slowly over time, and there was the announcement of the fellowship, which came with additional prize money, and a reception, at which Flora spoke. Along with us, and Sophie and Malcolm’s Bellcast partners, there were Richard and JB, both of whom had also had residencies in Rome, and after the ceremony we went to a little restaurant nearby they had both liked when they had lived there, and where Richard showed us which part of the building’s walls were Etruscan and which were Roman. But although it was a nice meal, comfortable and convivial, it was also a quiet one, and at one point I remember looking up and realizing that none of us were eating and all of us were staring—at the ceiling, at our plates, at one another—and thinking something separate and yet, I knew, something the same as well.

那個儀式在羅馬的美國學(xué)院舉行，蘇菲和馬爾科姆都曾在那里駐留過，所以歐文夫婦出資設(shè)立了一個鼓勵年輕建筑師的獎學(xué)金。他們還協(xié)助選出了第一位得主，是一個高個子、容易緊張但可愛的年輕倫敦女子，她做的大都是暫時性建筑物，以泥土、草和紙做出復(fù)合建筑群，隨著時間會緩緩?fù)呓狻ｎC獎儀式宣布了獎學(xué)金得主、頒發(fā)了獎金，此外還舉辦了一個招待會，弗洛拉發(fā)表了演講。參加的除了我們，蘇菲和馬爾科姆在“鐘模”的合伙人之外，還有也曾在羅馬駐留過的理查德和杰比。儀式過后，我們?nèi)チ烁浇患倚〔蛷d，他們兩個住羅馬時都很喜歡，理查德還帶我們看了那棟建筑物有哪些墻壁是伊特拉斯坎風(fēng)格，哪些是羅馬風(fēng)格。盡管那一餐很美好，舒適又歡樂，但也很安靜，中間有一度，我記得自己抬頭，才發(fā)現(xiàn)大家都沒在吃東西，全瞪著眼睛，看著天花板、看著盤子、看著彼此，各自想著不同的事物，但我知道，大家也不約而同地想著同樣的事情。

　 The next afternoon Julia napped and we took a walk. We were staying across the river, near the Spanish Steps, but we had the car take us back over the bridge to Trastevere and walked through streets that were so close and dark that they might have been hallways, until finally we came to a square, tiny and precise and adorned with nothing but sunlight, where we sat on a stone bench. An elderly man, with a white beard and wearing a linen suit, sat down on the other end, and he nodded at us and we nodded at him.

次日下午朱麗婭午睡時，我們出門散步。我們的旅館在臺伯河這一邊，靠近西班牙大臺階那一帶，不過我們請司機載我們過橋到越臺伯河區(qū)，走在那些又窄又暗、簡直像是走廊的街道上，最后終于來到了一個小而簡潔的廣場，除了陽光沒有任何裝飾，我們來到一張石凳前坐下。一個留著白色大胡子、身穿亞麻西裝的老人也在石凳另一頭坐下，看著我們點了個頭，我們也朝他點頭。

　 For a long time we were silent together, sitting in the heat, and then he suddenly said that he remembered this square, that he had been here with you once, and that there was a famous gelato place just two streets away.

我們沉默地坐在那里許久，曬著太陽，忽然他說他記得以前跟你來過一次這個廣場，還說兩條街之外有一家冰淇淋店很有名。

　 “Should I go?” he asked me, and smiled.

“我該去買嗎？”他問我，露出微笑。

　 “I think you know the answer,” I said, and he got up. “I’ll be back,” he said. “Stracciatella,” I told him, and he nodded. “I know,” he said.

“我想你知道答案。”我說。他站起來。“我馬上回來。”他說。“瑞士巧克力口味。”我告訴他。他點點頭。“我知道。”他說。

　 We watched him leave, the man and I, and then the man smiled at me and I smiled back. He wasn’t so elderly after all, I saw: probably just a few years older than I. And yet I was never able (and am still not) to think of myself as old. I talked as if I knew I was; I bemoaned my age. But it was only for comedy, or to make other people feel young.

我們——那個老人和我——看著他離開，然后那老人朝我微笑，我也對他笑。仔細一看，我才發(fā)現(xiàn)他其實沒那么老，大概只比我大幾歲而已。我當時始終沒辦法（到現(xiàn)在還是沒辦法）把自己想成老人。我總是講得好像知道自己很老，我總是埋怨自己的年齡，但那只是耍寶，或是讓別人覺得年輕而已。

　 “Lui è tuo figlio?” the man asked, and I nodded. I was always surprised and pleased when we were recognized for who we were to each other, for we looked nothing alike, he and I: and yet I thought—I hoped—there must have been something about the way we were together that was more compelling evidence of our relation than mere physical resemblance.

“他是你兒子？”那老人用意大利語問，我點點頭。每回被人認出我們是父子，我總是驚訝又開心，因為他和我長得一點也不像。但是我認為，或該說希望，我們在一起的樣子，一定有個比外形相似度更具說服力的證據(jù)，讓別人相信我們是父子。

　 “Ah,” the man said, looking at him again before he turned the corner and disappeared from sight. “Molto bello.”

“啊，”那老人說，看著他走到一個轉(zhuǎn)角，然后消失，“真是俊美啊。”