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《渺小一生》:來到戶外,他的幸福感增強(qiáng)了

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2020年07月16日

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  In early November he goes back into the hospital with another fever, but only stays for two nights before he’s released again. Patrizia draws his blood every week, but Andy has told him that he’ll have to be patient; bone infections take a long time to eradicate, and he probably won’t have a sense of whether he’s been healed for good or not until the end of the twelve-week cycle. But otherwise, everything trudges on: He goes to work. He goes to have his treatments in the hyperbaric chamber. He goes to have his wounds vacuum-treated. He goes to have them debrided. One of the side effects from the antibiotics is diarrhea; another is nausea. He is losing weight at a rate even he can tell is problematic; he has eight of his shirts and two of his suits retailored. Andy prescribes him high-calorie drinks meant for malnourished children, and he swallows them five times a day, gulping water afterward to erase their chalky, tongue-coating flavor. Except for the hours he keeps at the office, he is conscious of being more obedient than he ever has been, of heeding every one of Andy’s warnings, of following his every piece of advice. He is still trying not to think of how this episode might end, trying not to worry himself, but in dark, quiet moments, he replays what Andy said to him on one of his recent checkups: “Heart: perfect. Lungs: perfect. Vision, hearing, cholesterol, prostate, blood sugar, blood pressure, lipids, kidney function, liver function, thyroid function: all perfect. Your body’s equipped to work as hard as it can for you, Jude; make sure you let it.” He knows that isn’t the complete measure of who he is—circulation, for example: not perfect; reflexes: not perfect; anything south of his groin: compromised—but he tries to take comfort in Andy’s reassurances, to remind himself that things could be worse, that he is, essentially, still a healthy person, still a lucky person.

十一月初,他因?yàn)榘l(fā)燒再度住院,不過只住了兩晚就出院了。帕特里齊亞每周幫他抽血,但安迪跟他說他得耐心點(diǎn);骨頭感染要花很長的時間才能根除,而且在十二周的療程結(jié)束前,他大概不會感覺到自己是否痊愈。但除此之外,一切都繼續(xù)緩慢向前:他去上班,去醫(yī)院躺在高壓艙內(nèi)治療,做負(fù)壓傷口治療,做清創(chuàng)??股卦斐傻母弊饔弥皇歉篂a,另一個是惡心。他體重減輕的程度連自己都知道有問題;他重新定做了兩套西裝和八件襯衫。安迪專門給他開了給營養(yǎng)不良的兒童服用的高熱量飲品,他每天服用五次,然后喝一大堆水去除像粉筆黏著舌頭的味道。除了在辦公室的時間,他感覺自己前所未有地聽話,順從安迪的每一個警告。他試圖不要去想這回發(fā)病會怎么結(jié)束,試著不要擔(dān)心自己。但是在夜里安靜的時刻,他腦袋里會回放最近一次安迪幫他檢查時所講的話:“心臟:完全正常。肺臟:完全正常。視力、聽力、膽固醇、前列腺、血糖、血壓、血脂肪、腎功能、肝臟功能、甲狀腺功能:完全正常。裘德,你的身體盡力為你服務(wù)了,你也一定要好好照顧身體才行?!彼浪纳眢w狀況不光只有這些而已——比如,循環(huán):不完全正常;反射:不完全正常;腹股溝以下的所有部位:功能不全。但他設(shè)法從安迪的保證中得到安慰,提醒自己狀況有可能更糟;提醒自己:基本上,他依然是個健康的人,依然是個幸運(yùn)兒。

  Late November. Willem finishes Desperate Characters. They have Thanksgiving at Harold and Julia’s uptown, and although they have been coming into the city every other weekend to see him, he can sense them both trying very hard not to say anything about his appearance, not to bother him about how little he’s eating at dinner. Thanksgiving week also marks his final week of antibiotic treatments, and he submits to another round of blood work and X-rays before Andy tells him he can stop. He says goodbye to Patrizia for what he hopes is the last time; he gives her a gift to thank her for her care.

十一月下旬,威廉拍完了《絕望的性格》。他們到哈羅德和朱麗婭在紐約的公寓過感恩節(jié)。他們夫婦隔周的周末就會來紐約看他,但他可以感覺到他們兩個都很努力不說他瘦了,不說他晚餐吃得好少。感恩節(jié)這星期剛好也是他抗生素療程的最后一星期,他又做了另一輪血液檢驗(yàn)和X光檢查,然后安迪跟他說療程結(jié)束了。他跟帕特里齊亞說再見,希望是最后一次;他還送她一個禮物,感謝她的照顧。

  Although his wounds have shrunk, they haven’t shrunk as much as Andy had hoped, and on his recommendation, they stay in Garrison for Christmas. They promise Andy it will be a quiet week; everyone else will be out of town anyway, so it will be only the two of them and Harold and Julia.

他腿上的瘡縮小了,但還是不如安迪的預(yù)期。于是依照安迪的建議,他們留在加里森村的房子里過圣誕節(jié)。他們保證那個星期會過得很安靜;反正其他人都會離開紐約,只剩他們兩個加上哈羅德和朱麗婭。

  “Your two goals are: sleeping and eating,” says Andy, who is going to visit Beckett in San Francisco for the holidays. “I want to see you five pounds heavier by the first Friday in January.”

“你們兩個的目標(biāo)就是睡覺和吃東西?!卑驳险f,他打算利用圣誕假期去舊金山拜訪貝基特,“一月的第一個星期五,我希望看到你增加五磅。”

  “Five pounds is a lot,” he says.

“五磅很多。”他說。

  “Five,” Andy repeats. “And then ideally, fifteen more after that.”

“五磅?!卑驳嫌终f一次,“之后,最好再增加十五磅。”

  On Christmas itself, a year to the day he and Willem had walked along the spine of a low, wavy mountainside in Punakha, one that took them behind the king’s hunting lodge, a simple wooden structure that looked like it might be full of Chaucerian pilgrims, not the royal family, he tells Harold he wants to take a walk. Julia and Willem have gone horseback riding at an acquaintance’s nearby ranch, and he is feeling stronger than he has in a long time.

圣誕節(jié)當(dāng)天,他想到一年前的今天,他和威廉在不丹首都普那卡一片低矮起伏的山坡上,沿著山脊而行。他們走過國王打獵的小屋后方,那是一棟簡單的木造建筑物,看起來像住滿了喬叟筆下的朝圣者,而非皇室家族。朱麗婭和威廉去附近他們熟悉的農(nóng)場騎馬了;他告訴哈羅德他想散步,覺得自己很久沒那么強(qiáng)壯了。

  “I don’t know, Jude,” says Harold, warily.

“不知道,裘德。”哈羅德謹(jǐn)慎地說。

  “Come on, Harold,” he says. “Just to the first bench.” Malcolm has placed three benches along the path he has hacked through the forest to the house’s rear; one is located about a third of a way around the lake; the second at the halfway point; and the third at the two-thirds point. “We’ll go slowly, and I’ll take my cane.” It has been years since he has had to use a cane—not since he was a teenager—but now he needs it for any distance longer than fifty yards or so. Finally, Harold agrees, and he grabs his scarf and coat before Harold can change his mind.

“別這樣嘛,哈羅德,”他說,“走到第一張石凳就好?!瘪R爾科姆在房子后方的森林辟出一條小徑,沿途設(shè)置了三張石凳。第一張在大約全程三分之一處的湖畔;第二張在中間點(diǎn);第三張在三分之二處。“我們慢慢走就好,而且我會帶著拐杖?!彼呀?jīng)好多年沒用拐杖了,上一次是他還不滿20歲的時候,但現(xiàn)在他只要走超過五十碼,就得使用。最后,哈羅德終于同意了,他趁著哈羅德改變心意之前,趕緊抓了圍巾和大衣出門。

  Once they are outdoors, his euphoria increases. He loves this house: he loves how it looks, he loves its quiet, and most of all, he loves that it is his and Willem’s, as far from Lispenard Street as imaginable, but as much theirs as that place was, something they made together and share. The house, which faces a second, different forest, is a series of glass cubes, and preceding it is a long driveway that switchbacks through the woods, so at certain angles you can see only swatches of it, and at other angles it disappears completely. At night, when it is lit, it glows like a lantern, which was what Malcolm had named it in his monograph: Lantern House. The back of the house looks out onto a wide lawn and beyond it, a lake. At the bottom of the lawn is a pool, which is lined with slabs of slate so that the water is always cold and clear, even on the hottest days, and in the barn there is an indoor pool and a living room; every wall of the barn can be lifted up and away from the structure, so that the entire interior is exposed to the outdoors, to the tree peonies and lilac bushes that bloom around it in the early spring; to the panicles of wisteria that drip from its roof in the early summer. To the right of the house is a field that paints itself red with poppies in July; to the left is another through which he and Willem scattered thousands of wildflower seeds: cosmos and daisies and foxglove and Queen Anne’s lace. One weekend shortly after they had moved in, they spent two days making their way through the forests before and behind the house, planting lilies of the valley near the mossy hillocks around the oak and elm trees, and sowing mint seeds throughout. They knew Malcolm didn’t approve of their landscaping efforts—he thought them sentimental and trite—and although they knew Malcolm was probably right, they also didn’t really care. In spring and summer, when the air was fragrant, they often thought of Lispenard Street, its aggressive ugliness, and of how then they wouldn’t even have had the visual imagination to conjure a place like this, where the beauty was so uncomplicated, so undeniable that it seemed at times an illusion.

來到戶外,他的幸福感增強(qiáng)了。他喜歡這棟房子:他喜歡它的外觀、它的安靜,最重要的是,他喜歡它是他和威廉的,盡管跟利斯本納街那間公寓差太多了,但同樣是他們兩個共有的,是他們一起布置并共享的。這棟房子的正面是一連串玻璃立方體,面對另一片森林。屋前有一條漫長的之字形車道穿過森林,所以在某些角度只能看到房子的一部分,另一個角度又完全看不到。到了夜晚,亮燈之后,整棟房子就像發(fā)光的燈籠,因此馬爾科姆在他的專題文章里將這里命名為“燈籠屋”。房子背面的外頭是一片寬闊的草坪,再過去是一片湖。草坪盡頭有一個游泳池,里頭鋪著石板,因此即使在最熱的天氣里,池水依然冰涼清澈。另外,谷倉里還有室內(nèi)游泳池和起居室;谷倉的每一面墻都可以掀開并拆下,所以整個室內(nèi)可以跟戶外相連,早春有牡丹和紫丁香盛開,初夏時屋頂垂下成串的紫藤花。七月時,房子右邊的原野被盛開的罌粟花染紅;房子左邊的原野上,他和威廉撒了幾千顆野花的種子,有波斯菊、雛菊、洋地黃和雪珠花。他們剛搬進(jìn)來不久的一個周末,曾花了兩天在屋前和屋后的森林里,在櫟樹和榆樹周圍長滿青苔的小丘旁種下鈴蘭,還到處撒了薄荷種子。他們知道馬爾科姆并不贊同他們的造景方式,他覺得他們太感情用事又老套。他們知道馬爾科姆的想法大概沒錯,但同時他們也不太在乎。春天和夏天,當(dāng)空氣充滿芬芳時,他們常常想起利斯本納街那間丑得嚇人的公寓,才又想到他們當(dāng)時無論如何都想象不出眼前這樣的地方,美得這么單純而無可否認(rèn),有時簡直像是幻覺。

  He and Harold set off toward the forest, where the rough walkway means that it is easier for him to navigate than it had been when construction began. Even so, he has to concentrate, for the path is only cleared once a season, and in the months between it becomes cluttered with saplings and ferns and twigs and tree matter.

他和哈羅德朝著森林走去,崎嶇不平的小徑比當(dāng)初蓋房子時要好走。即使如此,他還是必須專心,因?yàn)樾矫恳患局磺謇硪淮危虚g那幾個月就凌亂地散布著小樹、蕨類、樹枝和落葉。

  They aren’t quite halfway to the first bench when he knows he has made a mistake. His legs began throbbing as soon as they finished walking down the lawn, and now his feet are throbbing as well, and each step is agonizing. But he doesn’t say anything, just grips his cane more tightly, trying to re-center the discomfort, and pushes forward, clenching his teeth and squaring his jaw. By the time they reach the bench—really, a dark-gray limestone boulder—he is dizzy, and they sit for a long time, talking and looking out onto the lake, which is silvery in the cold air.

他們還沒走到通往第一張石凳的一半,他就知道自己犯了錯。才走下草坪,他的雙腿就開始抽痛,現(xiàn)在連兩腳也在抽痛,每走一步都是酷刑。但他什么都沒說,只是把拐杖抓得更緊,設(shè)法轉(zhuǎn)移不適,咬緊牙關(guān)繼續(xù)向前走。等他們走到第一張石凳(其實(shí)只是一塊暗灰色的石灰?guī)r巨石),他已經(jīng)頭暈?zāi)垦?,兩人在那里坐了好久,看著冷天里的一片銀色湖面聊天。

  “It’s chilly,” Harold says eventually, and it is; he can feel the cool of the stone through his pants. “We should get you back to the house.”

“好冷,”最后哈羅德終于說,的確很冷;他可以感覺到長褲下的巖石傳來寒意?!拔覀冊摶厝チ恕!?

  “Okay,” he swallows, and stands, and immediately, he feels a hot stake of pain being thrust upward through his feet and gasps, but Harold doesn’t notice.

“好吧?!彼氏驴谒?,站起來,幾乎立刻感到有一道熱辣的劇痛從雙腳往上躥。他猛吸一口氣,但哈羅德沒注意。

  They are only thirty steps into the forest when he stops Harold. “Harold,” he says, “I need—I need—” But he can’t finish.

他們才走進(jìn)森林三十步,他就叫住哈羅德。“哈羅德,”他說,“我得……我得……”但是他沒法講完。

  “Jude,” Harold says, and he can tell Harold is worried. He takes his left arm, slings it around his neck, and holds his hand in his own. “Lean on me as much as you can,” Harold says, putting his other arm around his waist, and he nods. “Ready?” He nods again.

“裘德,”哈羅德說。他看得出哈羅德很擔(dān)心。他走過來抓住他的胳膊,繞到自己的脖子后方,然后握住他的手,“盡量靠在我身上?!惫_德說,另一只手臂則環(huán)繞他的腰部。他點(diǎn)點(diǎn)頭?!皽?zhǔn)備好了?”他又點(diǎn)頭。

  He’s able to take twenty more steps—such slow steps, his feet tangling in the mulch—before he simply can’t move any more. “I can’t, Harold,” he says, and by this time he can barely speak, the pain is so extreme, so unlike anything he has felt in such a long time. Not since he was in the hospital in Philadelphia have his legs, his back, his feet hurt so profoundly, and he lets go of Harold and falls to the forest floor.

他設(shè)法再走二十步,走得很慢,雙腳糾纏在枯葉間,之后就再也走不下去了?!肮_德,我沒辦法了。”他說。此時,他幾乎說不出話來了,那疼痛太劇烈,完全不像他長久以來的任何痛法。打從他離開費(fèi)城那家醫(yī)院以來,他的兩腿、背部和雙腳就沒有這么痛過了。他放開哈羅德,倒在森林里的地上。

  “Oh god, Jude,” Harold says, and bends over him, helping him to sit up against a tree, and he thinks how stupid, how selfish, he is. Harold is seventy-two. He should not be asking a seventy-two-year-old man, even an admirably healthy seventy-two-year-old man, for physical assistance. He cannot open his eyes because the world is torquing itself around him, but he hears Harold take out his phone, hears him try to call Willem, but the forest is so dense that the reception is poor, and Harold curses. “Jude,” he hears Harold say, but his voice is very faint, “I’m going to have to go back to the house and get your wheelchair. I’m so sorry. I’m going to be right back.” He nods, barely, and feels Harold button his coat closed, feels him push his hands into his coat’s pockets, feels him wrap something around his legs—Harold’s own coat, he realizes. “I’ll be right back,” Harold says. “I’ll be right back.” He hears Harold’s feet running away from him, the crunch of the sticks and leaves as they snap and crumple beneath him.

“啊,天啊,裘德?!惫_德說,彎腰查看他,把他扶起來靠坐在一棵樹干。他心想自己怎么會這么愚蠢、這么自私。哈羅德都72歲了。他不該要求一個72歲的老人做這么費(fèi)力的事,即使是個健康得令人佩服的72歲老人。他無法張開眼睛,因?yàn)檎麄€世界在繞著他旋轉(zhuǎn),但他聽到哈羅德掏出手機(jī),打電話給威廉,只是森林太濃密了,信號很差,哈羅德詛咒著。“裘德,”他聽到哈羅德說,但聲音很模糊,“我得回屋拿你的輪椅。對不起。我馬上就回來。”他勉強(qiáng)點(diǎn)了頭,感覺到哈羅德把他的大衣扣子扣好,將他的雙手塞進(jìn)大衣口袋里,還用某個東西包著他的雙腿,他隨即明白那是哈羅德自己的大衣?!拔荫R上就回來。”他聽到哈羅德的雙腿奔跑著離開,一路踩過樹枝和樹葉,發(fā)出嘎吱聲。

  He turns his head to the side and the ground beneath him shifts, dangerously, and he vomits, coughing up everything he has eaten that day, feels it slide off of his lips and drool down his cheek. Then he feels a bit better, and he leans his head against the tree again. He is reminded of his time in the forest when he was running away from the home, how he had hoped the trees might protect him, and now he hopes for it again. He takes his hand out of his pocket, feels for his cane, and squeezes it as hard as he can. Behind his eyelids, bright spangled drops of light burst into confetti, and then blink out into oily smears. He concentrates on the sound of his breath, and on his legs, which he imagines as large lumpen shards of wood into which have been drilled dozens of long metal screws, each as thick as a thumb. He pictures the screws being drawn out in reverse, each one rotating slowly out of him and landing with a ringing clang on a cement floor. He vomits again. He is so cold. He can feel himself begin to spasm.

他把頭轉(zhuǎn)向一側(cè),覺得下方的土地在危險地移動著,于是他吐了,把那天吃下的東西都吐了出來。他覺得那些東西滑出嘴唇,沿著一邊臉頰流下。之后他覺得好一點(diǎn)了,又把頭往后靠著樹干。他想起自己逃離少年之家后在森林待過的那段時間,想起他當(dāng)時多么希望那些樹能保護(hù)他,現(xiàn)在他又生起同樣的希望了。他一手從口袋里伸出來,摸索著他的拐杖,然后盡力握緊。在他眼皮后面,一片明亮的光點(diǎn)爆成滿天的彩色碎紙,又閃爍成為一抹抹多油的污痕。他專注于自己的呼吸聲和雙腿,把那兩條腿想象成兩根笨重的木塊,里頭鉆入了幾十根長長的金屬螺絲,每根都粗得像大拇指。他想象此時那些螺絲被反向轉(zhuǎn)出來,每一根都緩緩脫離他的腿,“?!币宦暵湓谝黄嗟厣?。他又吐了。他好冷。他可以感覺到自己開始抽搐。

  And then he hears someone running toward him, and he can smell it is Willem—his sweet sandalwood scent—before he hears his voice. Willem gathers him, and when he lifts him, everything sways again, and he thinks he is going to be sick, but he isn’t, and he puts his right arm around Willem’s neck and turns his vomity face into his shoulder and lets himself be carried. He can hear Willem panting—he may weigh less than Willem, but they are still the same height, and he knows how unwieldy he must be, his cane, still in his hand, banging against Willem’s thighs, his calves knocking against Willem’s rib cage—and is grateful when he feels himself being lowered into his chair, hears Willem’s and Harold’s voices above him. He bends over, resting his forehead on his knees, and is pushed back out of the forest and up the hill to the house, and once inside, he is lifted into bed. Someone takes off his shoes, and he screams out and is apologized to; someones wipes his face; someone wraps his hands around a hot-water bottle; someone wraps his legs with blankets. Above him, he can hear Willem being angry—“Why did you fucking go along with this? You know he can’t fucking do this!”—and Harold’s apologetic, miserable replies: “I know, Willem. I’m so sorry. It was moronic. But he wanted to go so badly.” He tries to speak, to defend Harold, to tell Willem it was his fault, that he made Harold come with him, but he can’t.

這時,他聽到有人跑向他,還沒聽到那人開口,他就聞出威廉身上那股甜甜的檀香味。威廉來到他面前,抱起他時,整個世界又開始搖晃。他想自己又要吐了,但結(jié)果沒有。他的右手臂繞著威廉的頸背,吐過的那邊臉靠在威廉的肩膀上,讓自己被抱起來。他可以聽到威廉在喘氣。他的體重不如威廉,但兩人身高一樣。他知道自己一定很重,仍握在手里的拐杖撞擊著威廉的大腿,他的小腿則敲著威廉的肋骨。他很慶幸地感覺到自己被放低到輪椅上,聽到上方傳來威廉和哈羅德的聲音。他彎腰,前額靠在膝蓋上,被推出森林,經(jīng)過上坡來到屋里,一進(jìn)門,就被搬上床。有人脫掉他的鞋子,他痛得尖叫又道歉;有人擦了他的臉,有人抓著他的雙手,讓他抱住一個裝了熱水的瓶子;有人用毯子裹住他的雙腿。在他上方,他聽得到威廉很生氣——“你為什么要答應(yīng)他去那么遠(yuǎn)?你明知道他媽的他根本做不到!”然后,哈羅德充滿歉意又悲慘地回答:“我知道,威廉。對不起。我太白癡了。但他是那么想出去。”他想講話,幫哈羅德辯護(hù),跟威廉說這是他的錯,說是他逼哈羅德跟他去的,但他沒辦法。


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