《渺小一生》:裘德，就只剩我們兩個了

　 Two years ago, when he was healing from his surgery and so tired, so tired that Willem had to lift him in and out of bed, he and Willem had been talking one morning. It must have been cold outside, because he remembers feeling warm and safe, and hearing himself say, “I wish I could just lie here forever.”

兩年前，他正在截肢手術后的復原期，成天都很疲倦，上下床得靠威廉抱他。有天早上他和威廉在談話，那時外頭一定很冷，因為他記得當時自己覺得溫暖而安全，不自覺地說：“真希望我可以永遠躺在這里。”

　 “Then do,” Willem had said. (This was one of their regular exchanges: his alarm would sound and he would get up. “Don’t go,” Willem would always say. “Why do you need to get up anyway? Where are you always rushing off to?”)

“那就躺啊。”威廉說。（這是他們的例行對話之一：他那邊的鬧鐘響了，他會起床。“別走。”威廉總是說，“你為什么要起來？你總是忙著出門去哪里?。?rdquo;）

　 “I can’t,” he said, smiling.

“我沒辦法。”他微笑著說。

　 “Listen,” Willem had said, “why don’t you just quit your job?”

“聽我說，”威廉當時說，“你為什么不干脆辭職呢？”

　 He had laughed. “I can’t quit my job,” he said.

他大笑。“我不能辭職啦。”他說。

　 “Why not?” Willem had asked. “Besides total lack of intellectual stimulation and the prospect of having me as your sole company, give me one good reason.”

“為什么不行？”威廉問他，“除了缺乏知識的刺激，還有每天只有我一個人給你做伴，再給我一個好理由吧。”

　 He had smiled again. “Then there is no good reason,” he said. “Because I think I’d like having you as my sole company. But what would I do all day, as a kept man?”

他又微笑。“那就沒有好理由了，”他說，“因為我想我愿意只有你做伴。這樣的話，我成天要做什么？當你包養(yǎng)的小白臉？”

　 “Cook,” Willem said. “Read. Play the piano. Volunteer. Travel around with me. Listen to me complain about other actors I hate. Get facials. Sing to me. Feed me a constant stream of approbations.”

“做菜。”威廉說，“閱讀。彈鋼琴。當義工。跟我一起去拍片。聽我抱怨其他我討厭的演員。保養(yǎng)臉部。唱歌給我聽。成天不斷附和我。”

　 He had laughed, and Willem had laughed with him. But now he thinks: Why didn’t I quit? Why did I let Willem go away from me for all those months, for all those years, when I could have been traveling with him? Why have I spent more hours at Rosen Pritchard than I spent with Willem? But now the choice has been made for him, and Rosen Pritchard is all he has.

他當時又大笑起來，威廉也跟著一起笑。但現(xiàn)在他心想：為什么當時我沒有辭職？為什么這些年來，我要讓威廉離開我那么多個月，而我明明可以陪他一起去拍戲的？為什么我花在羅森·普理查德的時間比花在威廉身上的還要多？但現(xiàn)在他沒得選擇了，他唯一有的只剩羅森·普理查德了。

　 Then he thinks: Why did I never give Willem what I should have? Why did I make him go elsewhere for sex? Why couldn’t I have been braver? Why couldn’t I have done my duty? Why did he stay with me anyway?

然后他心想：為什么我從來不給威廉我該給的？為什么我要他去找別人上床？為什么我不能更勇敢一點？為什么我不能盡我的責任？為什么他無論如何還是要跟我在一起？

　 He goes back to Greene Street to shower and sleep for a few hours; he will return to the office that afternoon. As he rides home, his eyes lowered against the Life After Death posters, he looks at his messages: Andy, Richard, Harold, Black Henry Young.

他打算回格林街沖個澡，睡上幾小時，下午再回辦公室。開車回家的路上，他的目光一路躲著《死后的生活》的海報，另外也查了他收到的信息，分別是安迪、理查德、哈羅德、黑亨利·楊發(fā)的。

　 The last message is from JB, who calls or texts him at least twice a week. He does not know why, but he cannot tolerate seeing JB. He in fact hates him, hates him more purely than he has hated anyone in a long time. He is fully aware of how irrational this is. He is fully aware that JB is not to blame, not in the slightest. The hatred makes no sense. JB wasn’t even in the car that day; in no way, even in the most deformed logic, does he bear any responsibility. And yet the first time he saw JB in his conscious state, he heard a voice in his head say, clearly and calmly, It should have been you, JB. He didn’t say it, but his face must have betrayed something, because JB had been stepping forward to hug him when suddenly, he stopped. He has seen JB only twice since then, both times in Richard’s company, and both times, he has had to keep himself from saying something malignant, something unforgivable. And still JB calls him, and always leaves messages, and his messages are always the same: “Hey Judy, it’s me. I’m just checking in on you. I’ve been thinking about you a lot. I’d like to see you. Okay. Love you. Bye.” And as he always does, he will write back to JB the same message: “Hi JB, thanks for your message. I’m sorry I’ve been so out of touch; it’s been really busy at work. I’ll talk to you soon. Love, J.” But despite this message, he has no intention of talking to JB, perhaps not ever again. There is something very wrong with this world, he thinks, a world in which of the four of them—him, JB, Willem, and Malcolm—the two best people, the two kindest and most thoughtful, have died, and the two poorer examples of humanity have survived. At least JB is talented; he deserves to live. But he can think of no reason why he might.

最后一則訊息是杰比發(fā)的。杰比每星期至少會打電話或發(fā)短信給他兩次。他不知道為什么，但他受不了看到杰比。事實上他痛恨看到他，他好久沒對任何人有過那種絕對的恨意了。他完全知道這有多么不理性。他完全知道不能怪杰比，一丁點都不能。他的恨意毫無道理。那天杰比根本就不在車上；無論是怎么扭曲的邏輯，事故的責任半點都不能算在杰比的頭上。然而，他回到清醒狀態(tài)后第一次看到杰比，腦袋里就聽到一個聲音冷靜、清晰地跟他說，應該是你的，杰比。他沒說出來，但他的臉一定泄漏了什么，因為杰比本來走上前來要擁抱他，卻忽然停下。此后他只見過杰比兩次，兩次都有理查德在場，而且兩次他都得忍著不要說出什么惡毒、不可原諒的話。但杰比還是繼續(xù)打電話給他，總是會留話，而且內(nèi)容都一樣：“嘿，小裘，是我。我只是打電話來看你是不是還好。我常常想到你，很想跟你碰個面。好吧。愛你，再見。”而他一如往常，會寫同樣的短信回復杰比：“嗨，杰比，謝謝你的留言。很抱歉最近都沒接電話；工作太忙了。再聯(lián)絡。愛你的裘德。”寫是這樣寫，其實他并不打算跟杰比談話，或許永遠都不會了。這個世界實在錯得太離譜了，他心想，他、杰比、威廉、馬爾科姆四個人里頭，其中最好的兩個人，最善良、最體貼的兩個人，死了；另外兩個性格比較差的卻還活著。至少杰比還有才華，應該要活著。但他想不出任何理由讓自己幸存下來。

　 “We’re all we have left, Jude,” JB had said to him at some point, “at least we have each other,” and he had thought, in another of those statements that leapt quickly to mind but that he successfully prevented himself from voicing: I would trade you for him. He would have traded any of them for Willem. JB, instantly. Richard and Andy—poor Richard and Andy, who did everything for him!—instantly. Julia, even. Harold. He would have exchanged any of them, all of them, to have Willem back. He thinks of Hades, with his shiny Italian brawn, swooning E. around the underworld. I have a proposition for you, he says to Hades. Five souls for one. How can you refuse?

“裘德，就只剩我們兩個了。”中間有一度杰比跟他說，“至少我們還有彼此。”而他心里立刻冒出種種想法，只是設法不要說出來：我愿意拿你換他回來。他會愿意拿任何人換威廉。杰比，他毫不猶豫。理查德和安迪（可憐的理查德和安迪，他們?yōu)樗隽艘磺校。?，他也毫不猶豫。甚至朱麗婭，甚至哈羅德。他愿意拿任何一個人，拿所有的人，去換威廉回來。他想到冥界之神哈迪斯，一身發(fā)亮的意大利人肌肉，在陰間被歐律狄刻迷得神魂顛倒。我想跟你做個交易，他對哈迪斯說。五個人換一個。你怎么有辦法拒絕？

　 One Sunday in April he is sleeping when he hears a banging, loud and insistent, and he wakes, groggily, and then turns onto his side, holding the pillow over his head and keeping his eyes closed, and eventually the banging stops. So when he feels someone touch him, gently, on his arm, he shouts and flops over and sees it is Richard, sitting next to him.

四月的一個星期天，他正在睡覺，忽然聽到敲門聲，響亮又堅決。他迷迷糊糊醒來，翻身抱著枕頭蓋住頭，不肯睜開眼睛，最后敲門聲停止了。所以當他感覺有人輕輕碰他的手臂時，他大叫著翻過身來。原來是理查德，坐在他旁邊。

　 “I’m sorry, Jude,” says Richard. And then, “Have you been sleeping all day?”

“對不起，裘德，”理查德問，“你睡了一整天嗎？”

　 He swallows, sits up halfway. On Sundays he keeps all the shades lowered, all the curtains drawn; he can never tell, really, whether it is night or day. “Yes,” he says. “I’m tired.”

他咽下口水，半坐起身。星期天他會把所有遮光簾拉下、把所有窗簾拉上；所以他搞不太清楚現(xiàn)在是白天還是晚上。“是的，”他說，“我很累。”

　 “Well,” says Richard after a silence. “I’m sorry to barge in like this. But you weren’t answering your phone, and I wanted you to come downstairs and have dinner with me.”

“唔，”理查德沉默了一會兒，說，“很抱歉這樣闖進來。不過你沒接電話，我想找你到樓下跟我一起吃晚餐。”

　 “Oh, Richard, I don’t know,” he says, trying to think of an excuse. Richard is right: he turns off his phone, all phones, for his Sunday cocooning, so nothing will interrupt his slumber, his attempts to find Willem in his dreams. “I’m not feeling that great. I’m not going to be good company.”

“啊，理查德，我不知道，”他說，設法找借口推辭。理查德說得沒錯：每個星期天在家里睡一整天時，他都會關掉手機和所有的電話，免得有人打擾他去夢中找威廉，“我不太舒服，不會是個好同伴。”

　 “I’m not expecting entertainment, Jude,” Richard says, and smiles at him a bit. “Come on. You have to eat something. It’s just going to be you and me; India’s upstate at her friend’s this weekend.”

“裘德，我不期待有人娛樂我，”理查德說，然后朝他微微一笑，“來吧，你得吃點東西。只有你跟我兩個人；印蒂亞這個周末去紐約州北邊的朋友家了。”

　 They are both quiet for a long time. He looks about the room, his messy bed. The air smells close, of sandalwood and steam heat from the radiator. “Come on, Jude,” Richard says, in a low voice. “Come have dinner with me.”

兩個人都沉默許久。他看著房間，看著他亂糟糟的床?？諝夂軔?，有檀香和散熱器發(fā)出的蒸汽味。“來吧，裘德，”理查德低聲說，“來陪我吃晚餐吧。”