《渺小一生》:杰克遜的確是混蛋

　 His friends hated Jackson, and as it became clear that Jackson and his own group of friends—lonely rich girls like Hera and sort-of artists like Massimo and alleged art writers like Zane, many of them Jackson’s classmates from the loser day school he’d gone to after failing out of every other private school in New York, including the one that JB had attended—were in his life to stay, they all tried to talk to him about Jackson.

他的朋友很討厭杰克遜，但顯然后來杰克遜和他那幫朋友會繼續(xù)待在他的生活里，他們都設法跟他談杰克遜——比如埃拉那樣的寂寞富家女、馬西摩之流的半吊子藝術(shù)家，還有像贊恩那樣自稱是藝術(shù)作家的人，其中許多都是杰克遜被紐約的每一家私立學校（包括杰比讀的那所）踢出來后，最后才去讀的那家爛學校的同學。

　 “You’re always going on about what a phony Ezra is,” Willem had said. “But how, exactly, is Jackson any different than Ezra, other than being a total fucking asshole?”

“你總是抱怨埃茲拉是冒牌藝術(shù)家，”威廉曾說，“可是杰克遜除了是個徹頭徹尾的混蛋之外，到底跟埃茲拉有什么不同？”

　 And Jackson was an asshole, and around him, JB was an asshole as well. A few months ago, the fourth or fifth time he’d tried to stop doing drugs, he had called Jude one day. It was five in the afternoon, and he’d just woken up, and he felt so awful, so incredibly old and exhausted and just done—his skin slimy, his teeth furry, his eyes dry as wood—that he had wanted, for the first time, to be dead, to simply not have to keep going on and on and on. Something has to change, he told himself. I have to stop hanging around with Jackson. I have to stop. Everything has to stop. He missed his friends, he missed how innocent and clean they were, he missed being the most interesting among them, he missed never having to try around them.

杰克遜的確是混蛋，跟他在一起，杰比也成了混蛋。幾個月前，他第四次或第五次決定停止嗑藥，某天他打電話給裘德。當時是下午5點，他才剛醒來，就感覺糟糕透頂，覺得自己不可思議的蒼老又疲倦，整個人完蛋了——他的皮膚黏糊糊的，牙齒上像長滿了舌苔，眼睛干澀得像木頭。他生平第一次想死，覺得不必再沒完沒了地拖拉下去。我一定要做些改變，他告訴自己，不能再跟杰克遜鬼混了，我得停止，一切都得停止。他想念他的好友，他想念他們那么純真、那么干凈，他想念跟他們在一起時從來不必勉強自己。

　 So he had called Jude (naturally, Willem wasn’t fucking in town, and Malcolm couldn’t be trusted not to freak out) and asked him, begged him, to come over after work. He told him where, exactly, the rest of the crystal was (under the loose half-plank of wood under the right side of the bed), and where his pipe was, and asked him to flush it down the toilet, to get rid of it all.

于是他打電話給裘德（那是當然，因為威廉他媽的不在紐約，馬爾科姆又說不定會嚇得慌了手腳），拜托他、哀求他下班后過來。他告訴他剩下的冰毒收在哪里（就在他床鋪右側(cè)下方那塊松掉的木板底下），還有他的大麻煙斗，要他扔進馬桶里沖掉，全部扔光光。

　 “JB,” Jude had said. “Listen to me. Go to that café on Clinton, okay? Take your sketch pad. Get yourself something to eat. I’m coming down as soon as I can, as soon as this meeting’s over. And then I’ll text you when I’m done and you can come home, all right?”

“杰比，”裘德說，“聽我說。你去克林頓街的那家小餐館，好嗎？帶著你的素描本。去吃點東西。我會盡快趕過去，等我這個會一開完就動身。等我弄好了，會發(fā)短信給你，你就可以回家了，好嗎？”

　 “Okay,” he’d said. And he’d stood up, and taken a very long shower, hardly scrubbing himself, just standing under the water, and then had done exactly what Jude had instructed: He picked up his sketch pad and pencils. He went to the café. He ate some of a chicken club sandwich and drank some coffee. And he waited.

“好?！彼f。于是他站起來，沖澡沖了很久，幾乎沒刷洗自己，只是站在蓮蓬頭下面沖水。接著他完全遵照裘德的指示做：他拿了素描本和鉛筆，去那家小餐館，點了一個雞肉三明治，又喝了咖啡。等待著。

　 And while he was waiting, he saw, passing the window like a bipedal mongoose, with his dirty hair and delicate chin, Jackson. He watched Jackson walk by, his self-satisfied, rich-boy lope, that pleased half smile on his face that made JB want to hit him, as detached as if Jackson was just someone ugly he saw on the street, not someone ugly he saw almost every day. And then, just before he passed out of sight, Jackson turned, and looked in the window, directly at him, and smiled his ugly smile, and reversed direction and walked back toward the café and through the door, as if he had known all along that JB was there, as if he had materialized only to remind JB that JB was his now, that there would be no escaping from him, that JB was there to do what Jackson wanted him to do when Jackson wanted him to do it, and that his life would never be his own again. For the first time, he had been scared of Jackson, and panicked. What has happened? he wondered. He was Jean-Baptiste Marion, he made the plans, people followed him, not the other way around. Jackson would never let him go, he realized, and he was frightened. He was someone else’s; he was owned now. How would he ever become un-owned? How could he ever return to who he was?

等到一半，他看到一個身影經(jīng)過，一頭骯臟的頭發(fā)和精巧的下巴，是杰克遜。他看著他走過去，那種得意、富家公子的輕快步伐，還有那愉快的隱隱微笑，讓杰比很想打他，不帶感情地，仿佛杰克遜只是他在街上看到的一個丑八怪，而不是他幾乎每天見到的人。然而，就在即將走出視線時，杰克遜轉(zhuǎn)頭看著窗內(nèi)，直直看著他，露出那個丑陋的微笑，隨即轉(zhuǎn)身回來，走進那家小餐館，仿佛他一直知道杰比在那里，仿佛他這回突然出現(xiàn)只是要提醒杰比：杰比現(xiàn)在屬于他，別想逃出他的手掌心，而且他要杰比做什么，杰比就得隨時乖乖去做，他的人生再也不會是他自己的了。認識至今頭一次，他害怕杰克遜，而且恐慌起來。發(fā)生了什么事？他納悶。他是讓·巴蒂斯特·馬里昂，向來都是由他做計劃，別人乖乖地服從他，而不是反過來。他忽然明白，杰克遜永遠不會放過他，而他很害怕?，F(xiàn)在他得聽從別人的，被別人控制了。他怎么有辦法不被控制？他要怎么找回原來的自己？

　 “ ’Sup,” said Jackson, unsurprised to see him, as unsurprised as if he had willed JB into being.

“嗨。”杰克遜說，看到他一點都不驚訝，好像杰比是他用念力變出來的。

　 What could he say? “ ’Sup,” he said.

他能說什么？“嗨。”他說。

　 Then his phone rang: Jude, telling him that all was safe, and he could come back. “I’ve got to go,” he said, standing, and as he left, Jackson followed him.

然后他的手機響了：是裘德發(fā)短信跟他說現(xiàn)在安全了，他可以回來了?！拔业米吡恕！彼f。站起來往外走時，杰克遜跟著他。

　 He watched Jude’s expression change as he saw Jackson by his side. “JB,” he said, calmly, “I’m glad to see you. Are you ready to go?”

他來到公寓前，看到裘德發(fā)現(xiàn)杰克遜就站在他旁邊，表情瞬間變了?！敖鼙龋彼潇o地說，“很高興看到你。你準備要走了嗎？”

　 “Go where?” he asked, stupidly.

“走去哪里？”他愚蠢地問。

　 “Back to my place,” said Jude. “You said you’d help me reach that box I can’t get?”

“去我那里?！濒玫抡f，“你說過要幫我搬那個我夠不到的箱子？”

　 But he was so confused, still so muddled, that he hadn’t understood. “What box?”

但他太困惑了，腦袋還是一團混亂，因而沒聽懂：“什么箱子？”

　 “The box on the closet shelf that I can’t reach,” Jude said, still ignoring Jackson. “I need your help; it’s too difficult for me to climb the ladder on my own.”

“就是放在櫥架上的箱子，我夠不到的那個。”裘德說，還是不理杰克遜，“我需要你幫忙，要我自己爬梯子上去搬實在太困難了?！?

　 He should’ve known, then; Jude never made references to what he couldn’t do. He was offering him a way out, and he was too stupid to recognize it.

那時他就該聽懂的，裘德從來不會提到自己無法做什么。他是在為他提供一條出路，而他蠢得看不出來。

　 But Jackson did. “I think your friend wants to get you away from me,” he told JB, smirking. That was what Jackson always called them, even though he had met them all before: Your friends. JB’s friends.

但是杰克遜看出來了，“我想你的朋友是要你離開我?！彼移ばδ樀馗嬖V杰比。即使他明明見過他們，但他向來都這么稱呼他們：你的朋友，杰比的朋友。

　 Jude looked at him. “You’re right,” he said, still in that calm, steady voice. “I do.” And then, turning back to him, “JB—won’t you come with me?”

裘德看著他，“你說得沒錯。”他說，還是用那種冷靜、平穩(wěn)的聲音，“我的確這么打算?！比缓笥洲D(zhuǎn)頭看著他，“杰比，你不想跟我走嗎？”

　 Oh, he wanted to. But in that moment, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t know why, not ever, but he couldn’t. He was powerless, so powerless that he couldn’t even pretend otherwise. “I can’t,” he whispered to Jude.

啊，他想。但在那一刻，他做不到。他不懂為什么，永遠不懂，但他就是做不到。他毫無力氣，虛弱到連裝都裝不出來。“我沒辦法?！彼吐暩玫抡f。

　 “JB,” said Jude, and took his arm and pulled him toward the curb, as Jackson watched them with his stupid, mocking smile. “Come with me. You don’t have to stay here. Come with me, JB.”

“杰比，”裘德說，抓住他一只手臂，把他拖向人行道邊緣，杰克遜帶著一臉嘲弄的愚蠢笑容站在那里看，“跟我走吧，你不必待在這里。跟我走，杰比。”