《渺小一生》:“真希望我能說(shuō)不是。”

　 But the odd thing was this: by his story morphing into one about a car accident, he was being given an opportunity for reinvention; all he had to do was claim it. But he never could. He could never call it an accident, because it wasn’t. And so was it pride or stupidity to not take the escape route he’d been offered? He didn’t know.

但奇怪的是，因?yàn)樗墓适卵葑兂绍?chē)禍意外，他有了重新創(chuàng)造的機(jī)會(huì)，只要承認(rèn)這個(gè)說(shuō)法就好了。但他從來(lái)辦不到。他永遠(yuǎn)也沒(méi)辦法說(shuō)那是意外，因?yàn)槊髅骶筒皇?。所以他不把握這個(gè)送上門(mén)來(lái)的脫逃路徑，是傲慢還是愚蠢？他不知道。

　 And then he noticed something else. He was in the middle of another episode—a highly humiliating one, it had taken place just as he was coming off of his shift at the library, and Willem had just happened to be there a few minutes early, about to start his own shift—when he heard the librarian, a kind, well-read woman whom he liked, ask why he had these. They had moved him, Mrs. Eakeley and Willem, to the break room in the back, and he could smell the burned-sugar tang of old coffee, a scent he despised anyway, so sharp and assaultive that he almost vomited.

后來(lái)他注意到另一件事。當(dāng)時(shí)他的疼痛正好發(fā)作（那回特別丟臉，發(fā)生在他圖書(shū)館打工的交班之后，當(dāng)時(shí)威廉剛好提早幾分鐘到，正要開(kāi)始值班），聽(tīng)到一個(gè)他很喜歡、很和善而博學(xué)的女圖書(shū)館員伊克里太太在跟威廉說(shuō)話，問(wèn)他為什么會(huì)有這種疼痛發(fā)作。當(dāng)時(shí)他們兩個(gè)已經(jīng)把他搬到后面的休息室，他聞得到咖啡加熱過(guò)久所發(fā)出的焦臭，總之是他很討厭的氣味，鮮明又兇猛，讓他差點(diǎn)吐出來(lái)。

　 “A car injury,” he heard Willem’s reply, as from across a great black lake.

“是車(chē)禍?zhǔn)軅??！彼?tīng)到威廉回答，好像從一座黑色的大湖對(duì)面?zhèn)鱽?lái)。

　 But it wasn’t until that night that he registered what Willem had said, and the word he had used: injury, not accident. Was it deliberate, he wondered? What did Willem know? He was so addled that he might have actually asked him, had Willem been around, but he wasn’t—he was at his girlfriend’s.

直到那天夜里，他才注意到威廉說(shuō)的話，還有他用的詞匯：受傷，不是意外。那是刻意的嗎？他很好奇。威廉知道些什么？他整個(gè)人昏亂到極點(diǎn)，要是威廉在場(chǎng)，他可能會(huì)開(kāi)口問(wèn)他。但威廉不在，去他女朋友那兒了。

　 No one was there, he realized. The room was his. He felt the creature inside him—which he pictured as slight and raggedy and lemurlike, quick-reflexed and ready to sprint, its dark wet eyes forever scanning the landscape for future dangers—relax and sag to the ground. It was at these moments that he found college most enjoyable: he was in a warm room, and the next day he would have three meals and eat as much as he wanted, and in between he would go to classes, and no one would try to hurt him or make him do anything he didn’t want to do. Somewhere nearby were his roommates—his friends—and he had survived another day without divulging any of his secrets, and placed another day between the person he once was and the person he was now. It seemed, always, an accomplishment worthy of sleep, and so he did, closing his eyes and readying himself for another day in the world.

他發(fā)現(xiàn)，沒(méi)人在，整個(gè)房間只有他一個(gè)人。他感覺(jué)到心底的那個(gè)活物松懈下來(lái)，垮在地上。他想象那是只瘦小又蓬亂、像狐猴似的生物，反應(yīng)靈敏，隨時(shí)準(zhǔn)備好要沖刺，深色的濕眼睛永遠(yuǎn)搜索著四周，尋找任何危險(xiǎn)的跡象。在這些時(shí)刻，他覺(jué)得大學(xué)生活最讓他享受的是：他在一個(gè)溫暖的房間，次日他會(huì)吃三頓飯，想吃多少都行，另外他會(huì)去上課，沒(méi)有人會(huì)想傷害他或逼他做任何他不想做的事。他的室友、他的朋友就在附近不遠(yuǎn)處，他又度過(guò)了一天，不必暴露自己的任何秘密，同時(shí)，他的過(guò)去和現(xiàn)在之間又多加了一天。感覺(jué)上，這永遠(yuǎn)是一項(xiàng)值得睡覺(jué)的成就，于是他睡了，閉上眼睛，準(zhǔn)備好迎接下一天。

　 It had been Ana, his first and only social worker, and the first person who had never betrayed him, who had talked to him seriously about college—the college he ended up attending—and who was convinced that he would get in. She hadn’t been the first person to suggest this, but she had been the most insistent.

安娜是他第一個(gè)、也是唯一的社工人員，同時(shí)她也是第一個(gè)不曾背叛他的人。當(dāng)初就是安娜認(rèn)真跟他談到去讀大學(xué)，還說(shuō)服他相信自己能被錄取。她不是第一個(gè)建議他讀大學(xué)的人，但她最堅(jiān)持。

　 “I don’t see why not,” she said. It was a favorite phrase of hers. The two of them were sitting on Ana’s porch, in Ana’s backyard, eating banana bread that Ana’s girlfriend had made. Ana didn’t care for nature (too buggy, too squirmy, she always said), but when he made the suggestion that they go outdoors—tentatively, because at the time he was still unsure where the boundaries of her tolerance for him lay—she’d slapped the edges of her armchair and heaved herself up. “I don’t see why not. Leslie!” she called into the kitchen, where Leslie was making lemonade. “You can bring it outside!”

“我看不出有什么不可以。”她說(shuō)。這是她最?lèi)?ài)講的句子。當(dāng)時(shí)他們兩人坐在安娜家后院的門(mén)廊，吃著安娜的女朋友烤的香蕉面包。安娜不喜歡大自然（太多小蟲(chóng)、太多蠕蟲(chóng)了，她總是這么說(shuō)），但是當(dāng)他提議去室外時(shí)（試探性地，因?yàn)楫?dāng)時(shí)他還不確定她對(duì)他的容忍極限在哪里），她拍了一下安樂(lè)椅的邊緣，站起來(lái)?！拔铱床怀鲇惺裁床豢梢浴ＨR斯莉！”她朝廚房喊道。萊斯莉正在弄檸檬水?！澳憧梢远说酵忸^來(lái)！”

　 Hers was the first face he saw when he had at last opened his eyes in the hospital. For a long moment, he couldn’t remember where he was, or who he was, or what had happened, and then, suddenly, her face was above his, looking at him. “Well, well,” she said. “He awakes.”

當(dāng)初他終于在醫(yī)院睜開(kāi)眼睛時(shí)，看到的第一個(gè)人就是她。有好一會(huì)兒，他想不起自己在哪里、自己是誰(shuí)、發(fā)生了什么事，突然間，她的臉出現(xiàn)在他上方，看著他?！鞍パ剑彼f(shuō)，“他醒了。”

　 She was always there, it seemed, no matter what time he woke. Sometimes it was day, and he heard the sounds of the hospital—the mouse squeak of the nurses’ shoes, and the clatter of a cart, and the drone of the intercom announcements—in the hazy, half-formed moments he had before shifting into full consciousness. But sometimes it was night, when everything was silent around him, and it took him longer to figure out where he was, and why he was there, although it came back to him, it always did, and unlike some realizations, it never grew easier or fuzzier with each remembrance. And sometimes it was neither day nor night but somewhere in between, and there would be something strange and dusty about the light that made him imagine for a moment that there might after all be such a thing as heaven, and that he might after all have made it there. And then he would hear Ana’s voice, and remember again why he was there, and want to close his eyes all over again.

無(wú)論他什么時(shí)間醒來(lái)，她似乎總是在那兒。有時(shí)是白天，他在完全恢復(fù)意識(shí)前那些朦朧、半成形的時(shí)刻，聽(tīng)到醫(yī)院的種種聲音（護(hù)士們的鞋子發(fā)出老鼠般的吱吱聲，推車(chē)的嘩啦聲，還有醫(yī)院內(nèi)廣播的嗡響）。有時(shí)是夜晚，周?chē)囊磺谐良畔聛?lái)，他就得花更多時(shí)間搞清身在何處、為什么會(huì)在這里，不過(guò)最后他總會(huì)想起來(lái)，而且不像某些領(lǐng)悟，他每次想起來(lái)的過(guò)程從來(lái)不會(huì)變得更加容易或更加模糊。有時(shí)不是白天也不是黑夜，而是介于兩者之間，光線會(huì)變得有點(diǎn)奇怪且灰暗，讓他一時(shí)之間想著天堂可能是存在的，他可能是來(lái)到了天堂。然后他會(huì)聽(tīng)到安娜的聲音，再次想起自己為什么來(lái)到這里，只想再閉上眼睛。

　 They talked of nothing in those moments. She would ask him if he was hungry, and no matter his answer, she would have a sandwich for him to eat. She would ask him if he was in pain, and if he was, how intense it was. It was in her presence that he’d had the first of his episodes, and the pain had been so awful—unbearable, almost, as if someone had reached in and grabbed his spine like a snake and was trying to loose it from its bundles of nerves by shaking it—that later, when the surgeon told him that an injury like his was an “insult” to the body, and one the body would never recover from completely, he had understood what the word meant and realized how correct and well-chosen it was.

在那些時(shí)刻，他們會(huì)說(shuō)些不重要的小事。她會(huì)問(wèn)他餓不餓，而不管回答是什么，她都會(huì)拿出一個(gè)三明治讓他吃。她會(huì)問(wèn)他身上痛不痛，如果痛，就問(wèn)他有多痛。他第一次疼痛發(fā)作就是在她面前，那種痛太可怕了——幾乎無(wú)法忍受，好像有個(gè)人伸手到他體內(nèi)，像抓住一條蛇似的抓住他的脊椎，然后一直猛搖，想甩掉上頭的神經(jīng)束——之后，那名外科醫(yī)師跟他說(shuō)，他的這種傷是對(duì)身體的一種“損傷”，而且他的身體將永遠(yuǎn)無(wú)法完全復(fù)原。他聽(tīng)了，很清楚那個(gè)字眼的意思，也明白那個(gè)字眼挑選得有多精準(zhǔn)。

　 “You mean he’s going to have these all his life?” Ana had asked, and he had been grateful for her outrage, especially because he was too tired and frightened to summon forth any of his own.

“你的意思是，他這輩子都會(huì)有這種疼痛？”安娜當(dāng)時(shí)問(wèn)，他一直很感激她當(dāng)時(shí)的憤慨，尤其是他太累又太害怕，根本無(wú)法發(fā)脾氣。

　 “I wish I could say no,” said the surgeon. And then, to him, “But they may not be this severe in the future. You’re young now. The spine has wonderful reparative qualities.”

“真希望我能說(shuō)不是。”那醫(yī)師對(duì)他說(shuō)，“不過(guò)以后有可能不會(huì)那么嚴(yán)重。你現(xiàn)在還很年輕，脊椎有很神奇的恢復(fù)能力?！?

　 “Jude,” she’d said to him when the next one came, two days after the first. He could hear her voice, but as if from far away, and then, suddenly, awfully close, filling his mind like explosions. “Hold on to my hand,” she’d said, and again, her voice swelled and receded, but she seized his hand and he held it so tightly he could feel her index finger slide oddly over her ring finger, could almost feel every small bone in her palm reposition themselves in his grip, which had the effect of making her seem like something delicate and intricate, although there was nothing delicate about her in either appearance or manner. “Count,” she commanded him the third time it happened, and he did, counting up to a hundred again and again, parsing the pain into negotiable increments. In those days, before he learned it was better to be still, he would flop on his bed like a fish on a boat deck, his free hand scrabbling for a halyard line to cling to for safety, the hospital mattress unyielding and uncaring, searching for a position in which the discomfort might lessen. He tried to be quiet, but he could hear himself making strange animal noises, so that at times a forest appeared beneath his eyelids, populated with screech owls and deer and bears, and he would imagine he was one of them, and that the sounds he was making were normal, part of the woods’ unceasing soundtrack.

第一次的兩天之后，疼痛再度發(fā)作，安娜對(duì)他說(shuō)：“裘德，握著我的手。”他聽(tīng)得到她的聲音，好像是從遠(yuǎn)處傳來(lái)，又忽然近得可怕，像爆炸般填滿他的心。“握著我的手?！彼终f(shuō)了一次。她的聲音忽大忽小，她抓住他的手，而他握得好緊，都可以感覺(jué)到她的食指奇怪地滑到無(wú)名指上方，也幾乎可以感覺(jué)到她的每塊小骨頭被他握得重組位置，使她顯得嬌弱而精致，盡管她的外貌或態(tài)度一點(diǎn)都不嬌弱?！皵?shù)數(shù)字吧?！钡谌伟l(fā)作時(shí)，她命令他。他照做了，數(shù)到一百，一遍又一遍，把那疼痛分割成可以忍受的小片段。在那些日子里，他還沒(méi)學(xué)會(huì)疼痛發(fā)作時(shí)最好不要?jiǎng)印Ｋ麜?huì)在床上翻跳，像一只被扔在甲板上的魚(yú)，可以動(dòng)的那只手亂扒，想抓住一根保命的繩索。醫(yī)院的床墊堅(jiān)硬而頑強(qiáng)，他躺在上頭，努力尋找一個(gè)可以舒緩疼痛的姿勢(shì)。他想保持安靜，卻聽(tīng)到自己發(fā)出奇怪的動(dòng)物叫聲，所以有時(shí)候他眼皮底下會(huì)出現(xiàn)一片森林，里頭有叫聲刺耳的貓頭鷹、鹿和熊，而他想象自己是其中之一，他發(fā)出的聲音很正常，屬于森林里持續(xù)不斷的那片聲響。

　 When it had ended, she would give him some water, a straw in the glass so he wouldn’t have to raise his head. Beneath him, the floor tilted and bucked, and he was often sick. He had never been in the ocean, but he imagined this was what it might feel like, imagined the swells of water forcing the linoleum floor into quavering hillocks. “Good boy,” she’d say as he drank. “Have a little more.”

等到疼痛結(jié)束，安娜會(huì)給他一杯水，里頭插著吸管，免得他還要抬起頭來(lái)喝。在他下方，地板歪斜又起伏，他常常吐。他從來(lái)沒(méi)乘船出海過(guò)，但他想象眼下就是那種感覺(jué)，想象涌起的海水逼得油布地板變成顫抖的小丘?！昂煤⒆印！彼人畷r(shí)，安娜會(huì)說(shuō)，“再多喝一點(diǎn)?！?

　 “It’ll get better,” she’d say, and he’d nod, because he couldn’t begin to imagine his life if it didn’t get better. His days now were hours: hours without pain and hours with it, and the unpredictability of this schedule—and his body, although it was his in name only, for he could control nothing of it—exhausted him, and he slept and slept, the days slipping away from him uninhabited.

“以后會(huì)好轉(zhuǎn)的?！彼f(shuō)。他點(diǎn)點(diǎn)頭，因?yàn)樗桓蚁胂笕绻麤](méi)有好轉(zhuǎn)，自己的人生會(huì)是什么樣子。現(xiàn)在他的日子是以小時(shí)計(jì)算：幾小時(shí)不痛、幾小時(shí)會(huì)痛，而且這個(gè)時(shí)間表的不可預(yù)測(cè)性（他的身體也不可預(yù)測(cè)，只有名義上是他的，因?yàn)樗究刂撇涣俗约旱纳眢w）令他精疲力竭。他睡了又睡，一天天就這樣渾渾噩噩地過(guò)去。

　 Later, it would be easier to simply tell people that it was his legs that hurt him, but that wasn’t really true: it was his back. Sometimes he could predict what would trigger the spasming, that pain that would extend down his spine into one leg or the other, like a wooden stake set aflame and thrust into him: a certain movement, lifting something too heavy or too high, simple tiredness. But sometimes he couldn’t. And sometimes the pain would be preceded by an interlude of numbness, or a twinging that was almost pleasurable, it was so light and zingy, just a sensation of electric prickles moving up and down his spine, and he would know to lie down and wait for it to finish its cycle, a penance he could never escape or avoid. But sometimes it barged in, and those were the worst: he grew fearful that it would arrive at some terribly inopportune time, and before each big meeting, each big interview, each court appearance, he would beg his own back to still itself, to carry him through the next few hours without incident. But all of this was in the future, and each lesson he learned he did so over hours and hours of these episodes, stretched out over days and months and years.

后來(lái)，比較簡(jiǎn)單的方法就是和別人說(shuō)這是腿痛，但其實(shí)不是這樣：痛的是他的背部，沿著脊椎往下延伸到其中一條腿，像是有一根點(diǎn)了火的木棒插進(jìn)他體內(nèi)。有時(shí)他可以預(yù)測(cè)什么會(huì)觸發(fā)疼痛發(fā)作，某種動(dòng)作，搬太重或太高的東西，或者純粹因?yàn)樘哿恕５袝r(shí)候他無(wú)法預(yù)測(cè)。有時(shí)候，那疼痛會(huì)有預(yù)兆，先是一陣短暫的麻痹，或是一陣近乎愉快的痛感，輕微又迅速，只是一種觸電般的刺痛在他的脊椎上下移動(dòng)。這時(shí)他就明白要躺下來(lái)，等它發(fā)作完畢，那是他永遠(yuǎn)無(wú)法逃避或躲開(kāi)的苦行。有時(shí)它會(huì)忽然硬闖進(jìn)來(lái)，那是最糟糕的，他越來(lái)越害怕疼痛會(huì)在某些極度不適當(dāng)?shù)臅r(shí)候出現(xiàn)，因此每次重大會(huì)議、每次重大面試、每次出庭，他都會(huì)乞求自己的背部乖一點(diǎn)，撐過(guò)接下來(lái)幾個(gè)小時(shí)，不要出事。但這一切都是未來(lái)的事情了，他從經(jīng)驗(yàn)中學(xué)會(huì)撐過(guò)幾小時(shí)，然后延長(zhǎng)為幾天、幾個(gè)月、幾年。

　 As the weeks passed, she brought him books, and told him to write down titles he was interested in and she would go to the library and get them—but he was too shy to do so. He knew she was his social worker, and that she had been assigned to him, but it wasn’t until more than a month had passed, and the doctors had begun to talk about his casts being removed in a matter of weeks, that she first asked him about what had happened.

過(guò)了幾個(gè)星期后，安娜帶了書(shū)來(lái)給他，還叫他寫(xiě)下他有興趣讀的書(shū)，她可以去圖書(shū)館幫他借。但他太害羞了，不好意思寫(xiě)下來(lái)。他知道她是他的社工人員，被指派來(lái)照顧他，但直到一個(gè)多月后，醫(yī)師開(kāi)始談到再過(guò)幾個(gè)星期就可以拆掉他身上的石膏時(shí)，她才第一次問(wèn)他發(fā)生了什么事。

　 “I don’t remember,” he said. It was his default answer for everything back then. It was a lie as well; in uninvited moments, he’d see the car’s headlights, twinned glares of white, rushing toward him, and recall how he’d shut his eyes and jerked his head to the side, as if that might have prevented the inevitable.

“我不記得了?！彼f(shuō)。這是他當(dāng)時(shí)面對(duì)一切問(wèn)題的預(yù)設(shè)答案；其實(shí)他在撒謊。在一些時(shí)刻，回憶中的畫(huà)面會(huì)不請(qǐng)自來(lái)，他會(huì)看到那輛車(chē)的車(chē)頭燈，兩道熾亮的白光，沖向他，然后他想起自己是怎么閉上眼睛，把頭扭到一邊，好像這樣就可以防止那件不可避免的事情發(fā)生。

　 She waited. “It’s okay, Jude,” she said. “We basically know what happened. But I need you to tell me at some point, so we can talk about it.” She had interviewed him earlier, did he remember? There had apparently been a moment soon after he’d come out of the first surgery that he had woken, lucid, and answered all her questions, not only about what had happened that night but in the years before it as well—but he honestly didn’t remember this at all, and he fretted about what, exactly, he had said, and what Ana’s expression had been when he’d told her.

安娜等著：“裘德，沒(méi)關(guān)系的?！彼f(shuō)，“我們基本上知道發(fā)生了什么事。但是等到某個(gè)時(shí)間，我要你告訴我，這樣我們才可以好好談?wù)劇！彼f(shuō)她稍早給他做過(guò)訪談了，他記得嗎？顯然是他動(dòng)過(guò)第一次手術(shù)不久后醒來(lái)時(shí)神志清醒，回答了她所有的問(wèn)題，不光是那一夜發(fā)生的事情，連之前好幾年的事情都講了。但他實(shí)在什么都不記得了，他很苦惱自己到底說(shuō)了什么，也擔(dān)心當(dāng)時(shí)安娜聽(tīng)到時(shí)臉上有什么表情。

　 How much had he told her? he asked at one point.

有回他問(wèn)她他告訴了她多少。