我躺在塵土之中,陽光籠罩周身,回憶如潮水洶涌而來。這個只有一萬五千人口的小鎮(zhèn)顯得愈發(fā)逼仄。而將近一千公里以外,斯坦福大學,我的新宿舍,似乎充滿了閃閃發(fā)光的希望。
I lay there in the dirt, awash in sunlight and memory, feeling the shrinking size of this town of fifteen thousand, six hundred miles from my new college dormitory at Stanford and all its promise.
我對醫(yī)學的了解,大概就是“缺席”,確切地說,是從小到大父親的缺席。他每天天不亮就去上班,天黑才回家,把盤子里已經(jīng)冷了的飯菜熱一熱吃掉。之前我家住在紐約的布朗士區(qū),就在曼哈頓北邊,一個人多熱鬧、富裕優(yōu)越的郊區(qū)。我十歲的時候,和十四歲的哥哥、八歲的弟弟,一起跟著父親搬到了亞利桑那州的金曼,這個位于兩道山脈之間的沙漠谷地。外界對這個小鎮(zhèn),所知最多的,也就是開車經(jīng)過時,順道停下來加油的地方。吸引父親的,是這里燦爛的陽光,當然還有很低的生活成本。不然,他如何實現(xiàn)夙愿,把三個兒子都送到夢寐以求的大學呢?這里還有個好機會,可以親手創(chuàng)建一個他自己的地區(qū)性心臟??圃\所。對病人的盡心盡力與對醫(yī)學事業(yè)的執(zhí)著,很快讓他成為備受尊重的社區(qū)成員。有時我們還是能見到他的,一般是深夜或者周末。他總是對我們滿含關切的父愛,同時又有嚴苛的要求。擁抱我們,親吻我們,又總是語氣嚴厲地對我們進行教育:“做第一很容易:找到那個第一名,然后比他多得一分?!彼赡茉趦?nèi)心對自己有所妥協(xié),做父親,可以做得“短小精悍”,和孩子們相處時間雖然短,但高強度(又真誠)的爆發(fā)完全比得上……比得上其他父親做的所有事情。而我滿腦子想的都是,如果這就是當醫(yī)生的代價,那簡直太高了。
I knew medicine only by its absence—specifically, the absence of a father growing up, one who went to work before dawn and returned in the dark to a plate of re-heated dinner. When I was ten, my father had moved us—three boys, ages fourteen, ten, and eight—from Bronxville, New York, a compact, affluent suburb just north of Manhattan, to Kingman, Arizona, in a desert valley ringed by two mountain ranges, known primarily to the outside world as a place to get gas en route to somewhere else. He was drawn by the sun, by the cost of living—how else would he pay for his sons to attend the colleges he aspired to?—and by the opportunity to establish a regional cardiology practice of his own. His unyielding dedication to his patients soon made him a respected member of the community. When we did see him, late at night or on weekends, he was an amalgam of sweet affections and austere diktats, hugs and kisses mixed with stony pronouncements: “It’s very easy to be number one: find the guy who is number one, and score one point higher than he does.” He had reached some compromise in his mind that fatherhood could be distilled; short, concentrated (but sincere) bursts of high intensity could equal. . . whatever it was that other fathers did. All I knew was, if that was the price of medicine, it was simply too high.
從這個荒涼的高原,我能看到家里的房子,就在市區(qū)邊緣,瑟巴特山脈腳下,周圍是綿延的紅巖沙漠,零星點綴著一些豆科灌木、風滾草和船槳一樣的仙人掌。在這個地方,塵土如惡魔,不知來處,騰旋而起,模糊視線,繼而又不知所終。綿延的曠野消失在無窮無盡之處。我家的兩條寵物狗,曼克斯和尼普,對這廣闊天地的自由自在從未厭倦過。每天,它們都會勇敢地出發(fā),把沙漠新的“饋贈”帶回家,比如一條鹿腿,沒吃完的長耳野兔的殘尸,這些都是存著以后吃的,還有被陽光曬得發(fā)白的馬頭蓋骨,以及野狼的顎骨。
From my desert plateau, I could see our house, just beyond the city limits, at the base of the Cerbat Moun-tains, amid red-rock desert speckled with mesquite, tumbleweeds, and paddle-shaped cacti. Out here, dust devils swirled up from nothing, blurring your vision, then disappeared. Spaces stretched on, then fell away into the distance. Our two dogs, Max and Nip, never grew tired of the freedom. Every day, they’d venture forth and bring home some new desert treasure: the leg of a deer, unfinished bits of jackrabbit to eat later, the sunbleached skull of a horse, the jawbone of a coyote.