《渺小一生》:我覺得我在這里待很久了

　 His mind grew a little clearer with every day. Every day, he was awake a little longer. Mostly, he felt nothing. People came to see him and cried and he looked at them and could register only the strangeness of their faces, the way everyone looked the same when they cried, their noses hoggy, rarely used muscles pulling their mouths in unnatural directions, into unnatural shapes.

每過去一天，他的腦子就更清醒一點。每一天，他醒來的時間都更長一點。大部分時間，他什么感覺都沒有。人們來看他，在那里哭，而他看著他們，只看到他們臉上那種奇怪之處：每個人哭的時候看起來都一樣，哼著鼻子，臉上不常用的肌肉把嘴巴扯向不自然的方向，成為不自然的形狀。

　 He thought of nothing, his mind was a clean sheet of paper. He learned little pieces of what had happened: how Richard’s studio manager had thought the plumber was coming at nine that night, not nine the following morning (even in his haze, he wondered how anyone could think a plumber would come at nine in the evening); how Richard had found him and called an ambulance and had ridden with him to the hospital; how Richard had called Andy and Harold and Willem; how Willem had flown back from Colombo to be with him. He did feel sorry that it had been Richard who’d had to discover him—that was always the part of the plan that had made him uncomfortable, although at the time he had remembered thinking that Richard had a high tolerance for blood, having once made sculptures with it, and so was the least likely among his friends to be traumatized—and had apologized to Richard, who had stroked the back of his hand and told him it was fine, it was okay.

他什么都沒想，腦子宛如一片白紙。他得知了發(fā)生事情的片段：理查德的工作室主任以為水管工那天晚上9點要過來，而不是次日早晨9點（即使在朦朧的意識中，他還是搞不懂怎么有人以為水管工晚上9點會來）；于是理查德發(fā)現(xiàn)了他，叫了救護車送他到醫(yī)院；然后理查德打電話給安迪、哈羅德跟威廉；威廉從科倫坡飛回來陪他。他很抱歉讓理查德發(fā)現(xiàn)他——計劃的這部分一直讓他很不安，不過當時他還想著理查德對血的容忍度很高，因為他曾用血做雕塑，是朋友中最不可能有心理創(chuàng)傷的。他跟理查德道歉，他摸摸他的手背，跟他說沒事的，沒關(guān)系。

　 Dr. Solomon came every day and tried to talk to him, but he didn’t have much to say. Most of the time, people didn’t talk to him at all. They came and sat and did work of their own, or spoke to him without seeming to expect a reply, which he appreciated. Lucien came often, usually with a gift, once with a large card that everyone in the office had signed—“I’m sure this is just the thing to make you feel better,” he’d said, dryly, “but here it is, anyway”—and Malcolm made him one of his imaginary houses, its windows crisp vellum, which he placed on his bedside table. Willem called him every morning and every night. Harold read The Hobbit to him, which he had never read, and when Harold couldn’t come, Julia came, and picked up where Harold had left off: those were his favorite visits. Andy arrived every evening, after visiting hours had ended, and had dinner with him; he was concerned that he wasn’t eating enough, and brought him a serving of whatever he was having. He brought him a container of beef barley soup, but his hands were still too weak to hold the spoon, and Andy had to feed him, one slow spoonful after the next. Once, this would have embarrassed him, but now he simply didn’t care: he opened his mouth and accepted the food, which was flavorless, and chewed and swallowed.

所羅門醫(yī)生每天都來，試著找他談，但他沒有什么可以說的。大部分時間，大家都不跟他講話，只是來了就坐在那里，做自己的事情，或者兀自對他講話，似乎不期待回應(yīng)，這點他很感激。呂西安常常來，通常帶著禮物，有回帶了一張大卡片，事務(wù)所里每個人都簽了名?！拔液艽_定這玩意兒只會讓你好過一點點，”他不動聲色諷刺地說，“反正我都帶來了?！倍R爾科姆幫他做了一棟想象的房子模型，窗子是薄脆的羊皮紙，放在他床邊的桌上。威廉每天早上和晚上都會打電話來。哈羅德念《霍比特人》給他聽，這本書他從沒看過；哈羅德沒辦法來的時候，朱麗婭就會來，接著哈羅德上回停下的地方繼續(xù)念：那是他最喜歡的訪客時間。安迪則是每天晚上在訪客時間結(jié)束后過來，跟他一起吃晚餐；安迪擔心他吃得不夠多，所以自己吃什么都會多帶一份給他。有回安迪外帶了一盒牛肉大麥濃湯來，但他的手還太虛弱，無法拿湯匙，所以安迪得喂他，慢慢地一匙接一匙。這種事以前會讓他難為情，但現(xiàn)在他不在乎了：他張開嘴巴接受那毫無滋味的食物，嚼一嚼吞下去。

　 “I want to go home,” he told Andy one evening, as he watched Andy eat his turkey club sandwich.

“我想回家。”有天晚上他說，同時看著安迪吃火雞肉總匯三明治。

　 Andy finished his bite and looked at him. “Oh, do you?”

安迪吃掉最后一口看著他：“哦，是嗎？”

　 “Yes,” he said. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. “I want to leave.” He thought Andy would say something sarcastic, but he only nodded, slowly. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. I’ll talk to Solomon.” He grimaced. “Eat your sandwich.”

“是的，”他說。他想不出任何其他的話可說，“我想出院?！彼詾榘驳蠒f些諷刺的話，但他只是緩緩點頭?！昂茫彼f，“好，我會跟所羅門談?！彼櫫艘幌履?，“吃你的三明治吧?！?

　 The next day Dr. Solomon said, “I hear you want to go home.”

次日，所羅門醫(yī)生說：“我聽說你想回家?！?

　 “I feel like I’ve been here a long time,” he said.

“我覺得我在這里待很久了?！彼f。

　 Dr. Solomon was quiet. “You have been here a little while,” he said. “But given your history of self-injury and the seriousness of your attempt, your doctor—Andy—and parents thought it was for the best.”

所羅門醫(yī)生沉默了一會兒?！澳阍谶@里沒待幾天，”他說，“不過以你自殘的歷史和你這回企圖的嚴重性，你的醫(yī)生安迪和你父母認為，繼續(xù)住院是最好的。”

　 He thought about this. “So if my attempt had been less serious, I could have gone home earlier?” It seemed too logical to be an effective policy.

他想了想。“所以如果我的企圖沒那么嚴重，我就可以早點回家了？”這似乎太合邏輯了，不太可能有用。

　 The doctor smiled. “Probably,” he said. “But I’m not completely opposed to letting you go home, Jude, although I think we have to put some protective measures in place.” He stopped. “It troubles me, however, that you’ve been so unwilling to discuss why you made the attempt in the first place. Dr. Contractor—I’m sorry: Andy—tells me that you’ve always resisted therapy, can you tell me why?” He said nothing, and neither did the doctor. “Your father tells me that you were in an abusive relationship last year, and that it’s had long-term reverberations,” said the doctor, and he felt himself go cold. But he willed himself not to answer, and closed his eyes, and finally he could hear Dr. Solomon get up to leave. “I’ll be back tomorrow, Jude,” he said as he left.

醫(yī)生微笑。“大概吧，”他說，“其實我不完全反對讓你回家，裘德，但是我認為我們得準備一些保護措施。”他停了一下?！安贿^讓我煩惱的是，你一直很不愿意跟我討論你當初為什么會有這個企圖?？荡箍颂蒯t(yī)生，對不起，就是安迪，他告訴我，你一直很抗拒做心理咨詢，你能不能告訴我為什么？”他什么都沒說，醫(yī)生也等了一會兒?！澳愀赣H告訴我，你去年有過一段受凌虐的伴侶關(guān)系，對你造成了長期的影響?！贬t(yī)生說。他覺得自己全身發(fā)冷，但他逼自己閉上眼睛，不要回答，最后他聽到所羅門醫(yī)生站起來要離開。“我明天會再過來，裘德。”他走之前說。

　 Eventually, once it was clear that he wasn’t going to speak to any of them and that he was in no state to hurt himself again, they let him go, with stipulations: He was to be released into Julia and Harold’s care. It was strongly recommended that he remain on a milder course of the drugs that he’d been given in the hospital. It was very strongly recommended that he see a therapist twice a week. He was to see Andy once a week. He was to take a sabbatical from work, which had already been arranged. He agreed to everything. He signed his name—the pen wobbly in his grip—on the discharge papers, under Andy’s and Dr. Solomon’s and Harold’s.

最后，顯然他不會接受醫(yī)生的咨詢，也不可能再傷害自己，他們就讓他出院了，但是有一些條件：院方將他交由朱麗婭和哈羅德照顧，并且強烈建議他繼續(xù)服用醫(yī)院開的藥，只是減輕劑量。同時也強烈建議他每周去做兩次心理咨詢。另外他每星期要去安迪那里一次。事務(wù)所那邊則休長假，這個已經(jīng)安排好了。他全部同意，在出院文件上簽了名（手里的筆搖搖晃晃握不穩(wěn)），在安迪、所羅門和哈羅德的簽名下面。

　 Harold and Julia took him to Truro, where Willem was already waiting for him. Every night he slept, extravagantly, and during the day he and Willem walked slowly down the hill to the ocean. It was early October and too cold to get into the water, but they would sit on the sand and look out at the horizon line, and sometimes Willem would talk to him and sometimes he wouldn’t. He dreamed that the sea had turned into a solid block of ice, its waves frozen in mid-crest, and that Willem was at a far shore, beckoning to him, and he was making his way slowly across its wide expanse to him, his hands and face numb from the wind.

哈羅德和朱麗婭帶他去特魯羅，威廉已經(jīng)在那里等他。每天晚上他都貪婪地沉睡，白天他和威廉會從沙丘走到海邊。那是十月初，冷得沒法下水，但他們會坐在沙灘上看著遠方的地平線，有時威廉會跟他談話，有時不會。他夢到過那海洋變?yōu)橐黄瑘怨痰谋?，海浪在上升途中凍結(jié)，威廉在遠方的岸上，呼喚著他，他緩緩跨過冰面走向他，雙手和臉被寒風吹麻。

　 They ate dinner early, because he went to bed so early. The meals were always something simple, easy to digest, and if there was meat, one of the three of them would cut it up for him in advance so he wouldn’t have to try to wield a knife. Harold poured him a glass of milk every dinner, as if he was a child, and he drank it. He wasn’t allowed to leave the table until he had eaten at least half of what was on his plate, and he wasn’t allowed to serve himself, either. He was too tired to fight this; he did the best he could.

他們很早就吃晚餐，好讓他早早就寢。晚餐的菜總是很簡單，容易消化。如果有肉，其他三個人就會幫他先切好，免得他還要拿刀。每次晚餐哈羅德都會倒一杯牛奶給他，好像他是個小孩，而他就喝了。他得吃完盤子里至少一半的食物才能離桌，另外他不能給自己夾菜。他累得沒力氣反抗，盡量配合一切。

　 He was always cold, and sometimes he woke in the middle of the night, shivering despite the covers heaped on top of him, and he would lie there, watching Willem, who was sharing his room, breathing on the couch opposite him, watching clouds drift across the slice of moon he could see between the edge of the window frame and the blind, until he was able to sleep again.

他總是很冷，有時他會在半夜醒來，蓋了好幾層被子還是冷得發(fā)抖。他會躺在那里，看著躺在同一間房對面沙發(fā)上的威廉呼吸著，然后望向窗框一角和窗簾之間，看著天空里一朵朵云飄過弦月，直到他能再入睡為止。

　 Sometimes he thought about what he had done and felt that same sorrow he had felt in the hospital: the sorrow that he had failed, that he was still alive. And sometimes he thought about it and felt dread: now everyone really would treat him differently. Now he really was a freak, a bigger freak than he’d been before. Now he would have to begin anew in his attempts to convince people he was normal. He thought of the office, the one place where what he had been hadn’t mattered. But now there would always be another, competing story about him. Now he wouldn’t just be the youngest equity partner in the firm’s history (as Tremain sometimes introduced him); now he would be the partner who had tried to kill himself. They must be furious with him, he thought. He thought of his work there, and wondered who was handling it. They probably didn’t even need him to come back. Who would want to work with him again? Who would trust him again?

有時他想著自己所做的，感覺到在醫(yī)院時同樣的悲傷：悲傷他失敗了，悲傷他還活著。而有時他想著想著，又擔心極了：現(xiàn)在每個人對他的態(tài)度真的不一樣了。現(xiàn)在他真的是個怪胎了，一個比以前更怪的怪胎?，F(xiàn)在他得開始重新說服人們他很正常。他想到辦公室，本來在那里，他的過去根本不重要。但現(xiàn)在會有另一個關(guān)于他的故事與之相抗衡了。他不光是事務(wù)所有史以來最年輕的股東合伙人（特里梅因有時會這么介紹他），還是那個曾企圖自殺的合伙人。他們一定很生他的氣，他心想。他想到自己在那里的工作，不知道現(xiàn)在誰接手。他們大概根本不需要他回去了。誰會想要再跟他共事？誰有辦法再信任他？

　 And it wasn’t just Rosen Pritchard who would see him differently—it was everyone. All the autonomy he had spent years accumulating, trying to prove to everyone that he deserved: now it was gone. Now he couldn’t even cut his own food. The day before, Willem had had to help him tie his shoes. “It’ll get better, Judy,” he said to him, “it’ll get better. The doctor said it’s just going to take time.” In the mornings, Harold or Willem had to shave him because his hands were still too unsteady; he looked at his unfamiliar face in the mirror as they dragged the razor down his cheeks and under his chin. He had taught himself to shave in Philadelphia when he was living with the Douglasses, but Willem had retaught him their freshman year, alarmed, he later told him, by his tentative, hacking movements, as if he was clearing brush with a scythe. “Good at calculus, bad at shaving,” he’d said then, and had smiled at him so he wouldn’t feel more self-conscious.

而且不光是羅森·普理查德看待他的眼光不一樣——每個人看他的眼光都不同了。他花費多年累積起來的自主權(quán)，設(shè)法跟每個人證明那是他應(yīng)得的，現(xiàn)在全沒了?，F(xiàn)在他連切自己的食物都不行。前一天，威廉還得幫他系鞋帶?！皶棉D(zhuǎn)的，小裘，”威廉跟他說，“慢慢會好轉(zhuǎn)的。醫(yī)生說只是要花點時間。”每天早上，哈羅德或威廉得幫他刮胡子，因為他的手還不穩(wěn)；他看著鏡中那張不熟悉的臉，同時他們抓著刮胡刀從他的臉頰往下刮到下巴。他以前在費城的道格拉斯家時自己學著刮胡子，但大一那年威廉又重新教了他一次。當時威廉告訴他，因為看到他遲疑、亂刮的動作，好像用一把長柄大鐮刀在清除灌木。“微積分很厲害，刮胡子很遜?！蓖敃r說，朝他露出微笑，免得他更難為情。

　 Then he would tell himself, You can always try again, and just thinking that made him feel stronger, although perversely, he was somehow less inclined to try again. He was too exhausted. Trying again meant preparation. It meant finding something sharp, finding some time alone, and he was never alone. Of course, he knew there were other methods, but he remained stubbornly fixated on the one he had chosen, even though it hadn’t worked.

這時他會告訴自己，你總是可以再試一次。光是想到這個，就讓他覺得更堅強，但反常地，他不知怎的就是不想再試了。他太累了。再試一次就表示要準備，表示他得找到夠鋒利的東西，找到獨處的時間，而他一直沒辦法獨處。當然，他知道還有別的辦法，但他還是頑固地只想用他選擇過的那個方式，即使沒成功。

　 Mostly, though, he felt nothing. Harold and Julia and Willem asked him what he wanted for breakfast, but the choices were impossible and overwhelming—pancakes? Waffles? Cereal? Eggs? What kind of eggs? Soft-boiled? Hard? Scrambled? Sunny-side? Fried? Over easy? Poached?—and he’d shake his head, and they eventually stopped asking. They stopped asking his opinion on anything, which he found restful. After lunch (also absurdly early), he napped on the living-room sofa in front of the fire, falling asleep to the sound of their murmurs, the slosh of water as they did the dishes. In the afternoons, Harold read to him; sometimes Willem and Julia stayed to listen as well.

但大部分時間，他什么感覺都沒有。哈羅德、朱麗婭和威廉問他早餐想吃什么，選擇多到令人受不了——煎餅？華夫餅？谷物片？蛋？什么樣的蛋？溏心蛋？全熟的水煮蛋？炒蛋？荷包蛋要煎一面還兩面？要全熟還半生？或者水波蛋？他會搖搖頭，最后他們就不再問了。他們?nèi)魏问露疾辉賳査囊庖姡X得清靜多了。午餐（也是早得荒謬）之后，他會在客廳壁爐前的沙發(fā)小睡一下，聽著他們的說話聲、洗盤子的水聲入眠。傍晚時，哈羅德會念書給他聽；有時威廉和朱麗婭也會留下來一起聽。

　 After ten days or so, he and Willem went home to Greene Street. He had been dreading his return, but when he went to his bathroom, the marble was clean and stainless. “Malcolm,” said Willem, before he had to ask. “He finished last week. It’s all new.” Willem helped him into bed, and gave him a manila envelope with his name on it, which he opened after Willem left. Inside were the letters he had written everyone, still sealed, and the sealed copy of his will, and a note from Richard: “I thought you would want these. Love, R.” He slid them back into the envelope, his hands shaking; the next day he put them in his safe.

大約十天后，他和威廉回到格林街的家。他一直很擔心回來所看到的景象，但進入浴室后，他發(fā)現(xiàn)里頭的大理石干凈無瑕?！榜R爾科姆，”威廉在他開口問之前就說了，“他上星期才完成。全部換新了?！蓖畮椭缮洗玻o了他一個牛皮紙信封袋，上頭寫著他的名字。威廉離開后，他打開來看。里頭是他寫給每個人的信，還沒拆開，他的遺囑也沒拆開。理查德附上一張字條：“我想你會想要這些。愛你的，理查德?！彼涯切┬欧呕卮笮欧獯p手顫抖。隔天他把整袋放進他的保險箱。