《渺小一生》:“你——瘋——了。”

　 Julia eventually leaves as well—she has never understood the appeal of American football—and after she goes, Harold pauses the game and looks over at him. “Is everything okay with you two?” he asks, and Willem nods. Later, when he too is going to bed, Harold reaches out his hand for his own as he passes him. “You know, Willem,” he says, squeezing his palm, “Jude’s not the only one we love,” and he nods again, his vision blurring, and tells Harold good night and leaves.

朱麗婭后來也離開了（她從來不懂美式橄欖球有什么好看的）。她走了之后，哈羅德按了暫停鍵，認(rèn)真看著他?！澳銈儍蓚€之間還好嗎？”他問，威廉點(diǎn)點(diǎn)頭。稍后，他要去睡覺時，經(jīng)過哈羅德身邊，哈羅德伸手過來握住他的手。“你知道，威廉，”他說，捏捏他的手掌，“我們愛的不光是裘德一個人而已?！彼贮c(diǎn)頭，覺得視線模糊，跟哈羅德道晚安后就離開了。

　 Their bedroom is silent, and for a while he stands, staring at Jude’s form beneath the blanket. Willem can tell he’s not actually asleep—he is too still to actually be sleeping—but is pretending to be, and finally, he undresses, folding his clothes over the back of the chair near the dresser. When he slips into bed, he can tell Jude is still awake, and the two of them lie there for a long time on their opposite sides of the bed, both of them afraid of what he, Willem, might say.

他們的臥室一片安靜。他站在那里一會兒，凝視裘德蓋著毯子的身影。威廉看得出他其實(shí)沒睡著。他整個人太靜止了，不可能真的在睡覺，只是假裝而已。終于，他脫掉衣服，披在靠近抽屜柜的椅背上。他上床時，看得出裘德還醒著，兩個人就這樣躺在床上許久，害怕威廉可能會說的話。

　 He sleeps, though, and when he wakes, the room is more silent still, a real silence this time, and out of habit, he rolls toward Jude’s side of the bed, and opens his eyes when he realizes that Jude isn’t there, and that in fact his side of the bed is cool.

不過他還是睡了，醒來時，房間里更安靜了，這回是真正的安靜。出于習(xí)慣，他朝裘德那頭翻身，這才發(fā)現(xiàn)裘德不在，而且那一邊的床上是冷的，于是張開眼睛。

　 He sits. He stands. He hears a small sound, too small to even be named as sound, and then he turns and sees the bathroom door, closed. But all is dark. He goes to the door anyway, and fiercely turns the knob, slams it open, and the towel that’s been jammed under the door to blot out the light trails after it like a train. And there, leaning against the bathtub, is Jude, as he knew he would be, fully dressed, his eyes huge and terrified.

他坐起身，下床站起來。他聽到一個小小的聲音，小到根本不算是聲音。他轉(zhuǎn)身看著浴室門，關(guān)著，但是全暗。他還是走過去，用力轉(zhuǎn)動門把，猛地拉開那道滑門，塞在門底下遮蔽光線的毛巾像一列火車般跟著被扯開。裘德在里面，斜靠著浴缸而坐，跟他預(yù)料的一樣，全身衣服穿得好好的，眼睛睜大，充滿害怕。

　 “Where is it?” he spits at him, although he wants to moan, he wants to cry: at his failing, at this horrible, grotesque play that is being performed night after night after night, for which he is the only, accidental audience, because even when there is no audience, the play is staged anyway to an empty house, its sole performer so diligent and dedicated that nothing can prevent him from practicing his craft.

“東西在哪里？”他氣呼呼地說，他好想哀嘆，好想哭：哭自己的失敗，哭這場駭人、怪誕的戲表演了一夜又一夜，而他是唯一、意外的觀眾，因?yàn)榧词箾]有觀眾，這場戲還是會在空蕩的戲院內(nèi)上演，唯一的演員勤勉而盡心地表演，沒有什么能阻止他一遍又一遍地磨煉他的演技。

　 “I’m not,” Jude says, and Willem knows he’s lying.

“我沒有?！濒玫抡f。威廉知道他在撒謊。

　 “Where is it, Jude?” he asks, and he crouches before him, seizes his hands: nothing. But he knows he has been cutting himself: he knows it from how large his eyes are, from how gray his lips are, from how his hands are shaking.

“裘德，東西在哪里？”他問，蹲在他面前，抓住他的雙手：里頭什么都沒有。但他知道裘德之前在割自己：從他眼睛睜得多大、嘴唇變得多灰、雙手抖得多厲害，他就知道了。

　 “I’m not, Willem, I’m not,” Jude says—they are speaking in whispers so they won’t wake Julia and Harold, one flight above them—and then, before he can think, he is tearing at Jude, trying to pull his clothes away from him, and Jude is fighting him but he can’t use his left arm at all and isn’t at his strongest anyway, and they are screaming at each other with no sound. He is on top of Jude, then, working his knees into his shoulders the way a fightmaster on a set once taught him to do, a method he knows both paralyzes and hurts, and then he is stripping Jude’s clothes off and Jude is frantic beneath him, threatening and then begging him to stop. He thinks, dully, that anyone watching them would think this was a rape, but he isn’t trying to rape, he reminds himself: he is trying to find the razor. And then he hears it, the ping of metal on tile, and he grabs the edge of it between his fingers and throws it behind him, and then goes back to undressing him, yanking his clothes away with a brutal efficiency that surprises him even as he does it, but it isn’t until he pulls down Jude’s underwear that he sees the cuts: six of them, in neat parallel horizontal stripes, high on his left thigh, and he releases Jude and scuttles away from him as if he is diseased.

“我沒有，威廉，我沒有?！濒玫抡f——他們都用氣音說話，免得吵醒樓上的朱麗婭和哈羅德。接著，他還來不及想，就開始拉扯裘德，想把他的衣服脫掉。裘德則反抗著，左手臂完全不能用，總之目前狀態(tài)有點(diǎn)虛弱，同時兩個人無聲地朝對方叫嚷。他在裘德上方，兩邊膝蓋壓著他的肩膀，這招是有回拍片時一個動作指導(dǎo)教他的，他知道這樣可以讓對手無法動彈，而且很痛。他開始脫掉裘德的衣服，裘德在他下方發(fā)狂似的，先是威脅，然后哀求他停止。他木然地想，任何看到這一幕的人，都會以為這是強(qiáng)暴，但他沒打算強(qiáng)暴裘德，他提醒自己：他是想找到刮胡刀片。然后他聽到了，瓷磚上一個金屬發(fā)出了叮咚聲，他用手指捏起刀片的邊緣，往后一丟，又回頭繼續(xù)脫裘德的衣服，那殘忍的效率連他自己都嚇到了，直到他拉下裘德的內(nèi)褲，這才看到刀傷；六道平行的水平線，就在左大腿很高的位置，于是他放開裘德，匆忙往后退開，好像他得了什么病。

　 “You—are—crazy,” he says, flatly and slowly, after his initial shock has lessened somewhat. “You’re crazy, Jude. To cut yourself on your legs, of all places. You know what can happen; you know you can get infected there. What the hell are you thinking?” He is gasping with exertion, with misery. “You’re sick,” he says, and he is recognizing, again as if Jude is a stranger, how thin he really is, and wondering why he hadn’t noticed before. “You’re sick. You need to be hospitalized. You need—”

“你——瘋——了?！彼届o而緩慢地說，一開始的震驚已經(jīng)消退幾分?！澳惘偭耍玫?。這樣割自己，還偏偏割在大腿上。你明知道會怎樣，你明知道大腿會感染。你他媽的到底在想什么？”他吃力而悲慘地喘著氣?！澳悴×恕！彼f。仿佛裘德又成了陌生人，他這才發(fā)現(xiàn)裘德有多瘦，搞不懂自己之前為什么沒注意到，“你病了。你得去住院。你得……”

　 “Stop trying to fix me, Willem,” Jude spits back at him. “What am I to you? Why are you with me anyway? I’m not your goddamned charity project. I was doing just fine without you.”

“別再試著治好我了，威廉，”裘德氣沖沖地回嘴，“我對你來說是什么？你為什么要跟我在一起？我不是你該死的慈善計劃。我沒有你也過得很好?！?

　 “Oh yeah?” he asks. “Sorry if I’m not living up to being the ideal boyfriend, Jude. I know you prefer your relationships heavy on the sadism, right? Maybe if I kicked you down the stairs a few times I’d be living up to your standards?” He sees Jude move back from him then, pressing himself hard against the tub, sees something in his eyes flatten and close.

“是嗎？”他問，“抱歉，我不夠格當(dāng)個理想的男朋友，裘德。我知道你比較喜歡你的伴侶跟你玩性虐待，對吧？或許我把你踢下樓梯幾次，就符合你的標(biāo)準(zhǔn)了？”他看到裘德聽了往后退，身體往后緊緊靠著浴缸，看到他的眼睛變得無神，然后閉上。

　 “I’m not Hemming, Willem,” Jude hisses at him. “I’m not going to be the cripple you get to save for the one you couldn’t.”

“我不是亨明，威廉。”裘德氣呼呼地低聲說，“我可不想當(dāng)那個讓你拯救的殘廢，只因?yàn)槟憔炔涣怂！?

　 He rocks back on his heels then, stands, backs away, scooping up the razor as he does and then throwing it as hard as he can at Jude’s face, Jude bringing his arms up to shield himself, the razor bouncing off his palm. “Fine,” he pants. “Fucking cut yourself to ribbons for all I care. You love the cutting more than you love me, anyway.” He leaves, wishing he could slam the door behind him, banging off the light switch as he goes.

他起身站起來，往后退，撿起刮胡刀片，用盡全力丟向裘德的臉，裘德舉起雙臂擋住自己，那刮胡刀片擊中他的手掌后彈開。“很好。”他喘著氣說，“他媽的把你自己割爛好了，我才不在乎。反正你愛割自己勝過愛我?！彼x開了，真希望能把門甩上，用力把電燈開關(guān)按熄。

　 Back in the bedroom, he grabs his pillows and one of the blankets from the bed and flings himself down on the sofa. If he could leave altogether, he would, but Harold and Julia’s presence stops him, so he doesn’t. He turns facedown and screams, really screams, into the pillow, hitting his fists and kicking his legs against the cushions like a child having a tantrum, his rage mingling with a regret so complete that he is breathless. He is thinking many things, but he cannot articulate or distinguish any of them, and three successive fantasies spool quickly through his mind: he will get in the car and escape and never talk to Jude again; he will go back into the bathroom and hold him until he acquiesces, until he can heal him; he will call Andy now, right now, and have Jude committed first thing in the morning. But he does none of those things, just beats and kicks uselessly, as if he is swimming in place.

回到臥室，他從床上抓起自己的枕頭和一條毯子，整個人倒在沙發(fā)上。如果他能離開，他會的，但哈羅德和朱麗婭就在樓上，所以他沒離開。他轉(zhuǎn)身面朝下，埋在枕頭里大叫，真正地大叫，然后對著靠枕握拳亂打、雙腳亂踢，像個小孩在鬧脾氣，他的怒氣中混合了一種全然的悔恨，嚴(yán)重到他喘不過氣來。他同時想著很多事情，但無法清楚表達(dá)或區(qū)分任何一件，三段連續(xù)的幻想劇情迅速掠過他的心頭：他要上車逃掉，再也不要跟裘德講話了；他要回到浴室抱住他，直到他順從，直到他可以治愈他；他要打電話給安迪，現(xiàn)在就打，然后明天一早送裘德去住院。但他什么都沒做，只是徒勞地拳打腳踢，像在原地游泳似的。

　 At last, he stops, and lies still, and finally, after what feels like a very long time, he hears Jude creep into the room, as soft and slow as something beaten, a dog perhaps, some unloved creature who lives only to be abused, and then the creak of the bed as he climbs into it.

最后，他停下來，躺著不動，感覺過了非常久之后，他終于聽到裘德躡手躡腳地走進(jìn)房間，又輕又慢，像某種挨過揍的，或許是狗吧，某種不被喜愛的生物，活著只為了被凌虐，然后他聽到他爬上床的吱呀聲。

　 The long ugly night lurches on, and he sleeps, a shallow, furtive slumber, and when he wakes, it isn’t quite daylight, but he pulls on his clothes and running shoes and goes outside, wrung dry with exhaustion, trying not to think of anything. As he runs, tears, whether from the cold or from everything, intermittently cloud his vision, and he rubs his eyes angrily, keeps going, making himself go faster, inhaling the wind in large, punishing gulps, feeling its ache in his lungs. When he returns, he goes back to their room, where Jude is still lying on his side, curled into himself, and for a second he imagines, with a jolt of horror, that he is dead, and is about to speak his name when Jude shifts a bit in his sleep, and he instead goes to the bathroom and showers, packs his running clothes into their bag, dresses for the day, and goes to the kitchen, shutting the bedroom door quietly behind him. There in the kitchen is Harold, who offers him a cup of coffee as he always does, and as always since he began his relationship with Jude, he shakes his head, although right now just the smell of coffee—its woody, barky warmth—makes him almost ravenous. Harold doesn’t know why he’s stopped drinking it, only that he has, and is always, as he says, trying to lead him back down the road to temptation, and although normally he would joke around with him, this morning he doesn’t. He can’t even look at Harold, he is so ashamed. And he is resentful as well: of Harold’s unspoken but, he senses, unshakable expectation that he will always know what to do about Jude; the disappointment, the disdain he knows Harold would feel for him if he knew what he had said and done in the nighttime.

漫長而險惡的夜晚緩緩前進(jìn)，他睡了，一種鬼鬼祟祟的淺眠。醒來時，天還沒完全亮，但他穿上衣服和慢跑鞋出門，整個人精疲力竭，設(shè)法什么都不想。他跑步時，眼淚（不管是因?yàn)樘浠蚴且驗(yàn)槠渌囊磺校╅g歇地模糊他的視線，他憤怒地擦干眼睛，繼續(xù)往前跑，逼自己跑得更快，懲罰性地大口吸著氣，感覺到冰冷的空氣刺痛他的肺。他回來后，進(jìn)入臥室，裘德還躺在床上蜷縮著身子，他忽然恐慌起來，一時間想象他已經(jīng)死了，正打算喊他名字時，裘德在睡夢中動了一下。于是他到浴室沖澡，把運(yùn)動服塞進(jìn)他們的袋子里，換上今天的衣服，走出房間，悄悄關(guān)上門。他來到廚房，哈羅德已經(jīng)在里面了，一如往常地想倒杯咖啡給他，他也一如往常（自從他和裘德在一起之后）搖搖頭，不過眼前光是咖啡的氣味（那種帶著木頭、樹皮的暖意）就讓他渴望極了。哈羅德不知道他戒掉咖啡的原因，只知道他就是不喝了。哈羅德總是說要設(shè)法把他拐回這條誘惑之路，平常他都會順勢開玩笑聊個幾句，但今天早上他沒有。他甚至羞愧得不敢看哈羅德。他也很生氣：氣哈羅德雖然沒有說出口，但他感覺到那種堅定不動搖的期望，期望他總是懂得該怎么處理裘德；要是哈羅德知道他昨天夜里說了什么、做了什么，一定會對他很失望、很鄙視他。

　 “You don’t look great,” Harold tells him.

“你看起來氣色不太好。”哈羅德告訴他。

　 “I’m not,” he says. “Harold, I’m really sorry. Kit texted late last night, and this director I thought I was going to meet up with this week is leaving town tonight; I have to get back to the city today.”

“我的確不太好?！彼f，“哈羅德，真的很抱歉?；刈蛱焐钜箓鞫绦艁恚袀€我本以為這個星期會碰面的導(dǎo)演今天晚上就要離開紐約了，我今天就得趕回去?！?

　 “Oh no, Willem, really?” Harold begins, and then Jude walks in, and Harold says, “Willem says you guys have to go back to the city this morning.”

“啊不，威廉，真的？”哈羅德說。然后裘德走進(jìn)來，哈羅德說：“威廉說你們今天早上得趕回紐約?！?

　 “You can stay,” he says to Jude, but doesn’t lift his eyes from the toast he’s buttering. “Keep the car. But I need to get back.”

“你可以留下來?！彼麑︳玫抡f，眼睛還是看著他正在涂奶油的吐司面包，“車子留給你。不過我得趕回去。”