《渺小一生》:“我一直為了這件事折磨自己

　 The next day, Andy calls him at his office. “I need to talk to you in person,” he says. “It’s important. Can you meet me somewhere?”

次日，安迪打電話到他辦公室。“我得私下跟你談?wù)?，”他說，“有很重要的事情。能不能找個(gè)地方碰面？”

　 He’s alarmed. “Is everything okay?” he asks. “Are you all right, Andy?”

他警覺起來?！耙磺卸紱]事吧？”他問，“你還好吧，安迪？”

　 “I’m fine,” Andy says. “But I need to see you.”

“我很好?！卑驳险f，“但是我得跟你碰面談?wù)??！?

　 He takes an early dinner break and they meet near his office, at a bar whose regular customers are the Japanese bankers who work in the tower next to Rosen Pritchard’s. Andy is already there when he arrives, and he places his palm, gently, on the unmarked side of his face.

他把晚餐休息的時(shí)間提早，兩人約在他辦公室附近的一家酒吧，里面的?？褪橇_普克事務(wù)所旁邊那棟大樓里的日本銀行職員。他到的時(shí)候，安迪已經(jīng)在了，他將手掌輕輕地放在沒受傷的那半邊臉上。

　 “I ordered you a beer,” Andy says.

“我?guī)湍泓c(diǎn)了啤酒。”安迪說。

　 They drink in silence and then Andy says, “Jude, I wanted to see your face when I asked you this. But are you—are you hurting yourself?”

他們沉默地喝著，然后安迪說：“裘德，我問你這個(gè)問題的時(shí)候，我要你抬頭看著我。你——你是不是在傷害自己？”

　 “What?” he asks, surprised.

“什么？”他驚訝地問。

　 “These tennis accidents,” Andy says, “are they actually—something else? Are you throwing yourself down stairs or against walls, or something?” He takes a breath. “I know you used to do that when you were a kid. Are you doing it again?”

“這些打網(wǎng)球的意外，”安迪說，“會(huì)不會(huì)其實(shí)是——是別的？你是不是故意摔下樓梯、去撞墻，或什么的？”他吸了口氣，“我知道你小時(shí)候常常這樣?，F(xiàn)在又開始了嗎？”

　 “No, Andy,” he says. “No. I’m not doing this to myself. I swear to you. I swear on—on Harold and Julia. I swear on Willem.”

“沒有，安迪?！彼f，“我沒有，這些傷不是我自己弄的。我跟你發(fā)誓，我以——以哈羅德和朱麗婭發(fā)誓，我以威廉發(fā)誓?！?

　 “Okay,” Andy says, exhaling. “I mean, that’s a relief. It’s a relief to know you’re just being a bonehead and not following doctor’s orders, which, of course, is nothing new. And, apparently, that you’re a terrible tennis player.” He smiles, and he makes himself smile back.

“好吧?！卑驳险f，吐了一口氣，“我的意思是，我真的松了口氣。知道你只是個(gè)笨蛋，不聽醫(yī)生的指示，但這也不是新聞了。而且很明顯，你網(wǎng)球打得很爛?！卑驳衔⑿ΑＫ谱约何⑿σ詫?duì)。

　 Andy orders them more beers, and for a while, they are quiet. “Do you know, Jude,” Andy says, slowly, “that over the years I have wondered and wondered what to do about you? No, don’t say anything—let me finish. I would—I do—lie awake at night asking myself if I’m making the right decisions about you: there’ve been so many times when I was so close to having you committed, to calling Harold or Willem and telling them that we needed to get together and have you taken to a hospital. I’ve talked to classmates of mine who are shrinks and told them about you, about this patient I’m very close to, and asked them what they would do in my position. I’ve listened to all their advice. I’ve listened to my shrink’s advice. But no one can ever tell me for certain what the right answer is.

安迪又幫兩人點(diǎn)了一輪啤酒，有一會(huì)兒，兩個(gè)人沉默無言。“裘德，你知道嗎，”安迪緩緩地說，“這幾年來，我想了又想，不知道該拿你怎么辦。不，什么都別說，先讓我講完。我常常夜里睡不著，問自己對(duì)你的處理對(duì)不對(duì)：有好多次，我差點(diǎn)要把你強(qiáng)制送醫(yī)，準(zhǔn)備打電話給哈羅德或威廉，跟他們說我們得合力把你送去住院。我跟一些當(dāng)心理醫(yī)生的老同學(xué)談過，把你的事情告訴他們，說這個(gè)病人我很熟，問他們?nèi)绻驹谖业牧?chǎng)該怎么做。我認(rèn)真聽了所有人的建議，還聽了我的心理醫(yī)生的建議，但沒有一個(gè)人能肯定地告訴我正確的答案是什么。

　 “I’ve tortured myself about this. But I’ve always felt—you’re so high-functioning in so many ways, and you’ve achieved this weird but undeniably successful equilibrium in your life, that I felt that, I don’t know, I just shouldn’t upset it. You know? So I’ve let you go on cutting yourself year after year, and every year, every time I see you, I wonder if I’m doing the right thing by letting you do so, and how and if I should be pushing harder to get you help, to make you stop doing this to yourself.”

“我一直為了這件事折磨自己。但我始終覺得——你在很多方面都這么正常，而且生活達(dá)到這么詭異、但不可否認(rèn)成功的平衡，所以我想，我不知道，我實(shí)在不應(yīng)該打亂這個(gè)平衡。你知道嗎？所以我就讓你一年接著一年地繼續(xù)割自己，而每一年，每一次我看到你，就會(huì)想到自己讓你繼續(xù)這樣是不是對(duì)的，是不是應(yīng)該更努力地逼你去尋求專業(yè)協(xié)助，讓你停止傷害自己。”

　 “I’m sorry, Andy,” he whispers.

“對(duì)不起，安迪?！彼吐曊f。

　 “No, Jude,” Andy says. “It’s not your fault. You’re the patient. I’m supposed to figure out what’s best for you, and I feel—I don’t know if I have. So when you came in with bruises, the first thing I thought was that I had made the wrong decision after all. You know?” Andy looks at him, and he is surprised once more to see Andy swipe, quickly, at his eyes. “All these years,” says Andy, after a pause, and they are both quiet again.

“不，裘德，”安迪說，“這不是你的錯(cuò)。你是病人。我本來就該搞清楚什么是對(duì)你最好的，但是我覺得——我不知道自己有沒有辦到。所以你帶著那些瘀青來找我的時(shí)候，我第一個(gè)想到的就是我的決定還是錯(cuò)了。你知道嗎？”安迪看著他，再度看到安迪迅速擦了一下眼睛，他很驚訝?！斑@么多年都是這樣?！卑驳蠒和Ｒ幌抡f，兩人又陷入沉默。

　 “Andy,” he says, wanting to cry himself. “I swear to you I’m not doing anything else to myself. Just the cutting.”

“安迪，”他終于說，自己也很想哭，“我跟你發(fā)誓，我沒有用別的方式自殘，只有割傷而已?！?

　 “Just the cutting!” Andy repeats, and makes a strange squawk of laughter. “Well, I suppose—given the context—I have to be grateful for that. ‘Just the cutting.’ You know how messed up that is, right, that that should be such a relief to me?”

“只有割傷而已！”安迪說，然后發(fā)出一個(gè)刺耳的笑聲，“好吧，我想，就你這幾年的狀況來說，我應(yīng)該很慶幸，‘只有割傷而已?！阒肋@樣有多慘吧，我居然應(yīng)該松一口氣？”

　 “I know,” he says.

“我知道?！彼f。

　 Tuesday turns to Wednesday, and then to Thursday; his face feels worse, and then better, and then worse again. He had worried that Caleb might call him or, worse, materialize at his apartment, but the days pass and he doesn’t: maybe he has stayed out in Bridgehampton. Maybe he has gotten run over by a car. He finds, oddly, that he feels nothing—not fear, not hate, not anything. The worst has happened, and now he is free. He has had a relationship, and it was awful, and now he will never need to have one again, because he has proven himself incapable of being in one. His time with Caleb has confirmed everything he feared people would think of him, of his body, and his next task is to learn to accept that, and to do so without sorrow. He knows he will still probably feel lonely in the future, but now he has something to answer that loneliness; now he knows for certain that loneliness is the preferable state to whatever it was—terror, shame, disgust, dismay, giddiness, excitement, yearning, loathing—he felt with Caleb.

星期二、星期三過去了，然后是星期四；他感覺臉上的傷惡化，接著又好轉(zhuǎn)，然后又惡化了。他一直擔(dān)心凱萊布可能會(huì)打電話給他，或是更糟，去他公寓，但幾天過去了，都沒有消息?；蛟S他一直待在漢普頓橋?；蛟S他被車子撞了。說來奇怪，他發(fā)現(xiàn)自己竟然沒有任何感覺——沒有害怕，沒有恨意，什么都沒有。最壞的狀況已經(jīng)發(fā)生了，現(xiàn)在他自由了。他有過一段伴侶關(guān)系，結(jié)果很糟糕，現(xiàn)在他再也不必去試了，因?yàn)樗呀?jīng)向自己證明他沒有那個(gè)能力。以前他老擔(dān)心人們會(huì)怎么想他、想他的身體，跟凱萊布在一起的那段日子證實(shí)了他害怕的種種都是對(duì)的。他的下一個(gè)任務(wù)就是學(xué)會(huì)接受這件事，而且不要悲傷。他知道自己以后大概還是會(huì)覺得孤單，但現(xiàn)在他知道如何回應(yīng)那種孤單了?，F(xiàn)在他很確定那種孤單還是比較好的狀態(tài)，好過他跟凱萊布在一起體會(huì)到的恐懼、羞愧、厭惡、沮喪、眩暈、興奮、渴望、勉強(qiáng)。

　 That Friday he sees Harold, who is in town for a conference at Columbia. He had already written Harold to warn him of his injury, but it doesn’t stop Harold from overreacting, exclaiming and fussing over him and asking him dozens of times if he is actually all right.

那個(gè)星期五，哈羅德來紐約參加哥倫比亞大學(xué)的一場(chǎng)學(xué)術(shù)會(huì)議，他們碰了面。他已經(jīng)事先寫信警告哈羅德自己受了傷，但哈羅德還是大驚小怪，操心了半天，問他是不是真的還好，問了好幾十次。

　 They have met at one of Harold’s favorite restaurants, where the beef comes from cows that the chef has named and raised himself on a farm upstate, and the vegetables are grown on the roof of the building, and they are talking and eating their entrées—he is careful to only chew on the right side of his mouth, and to avoid letting any food come in contact with his new tooth—when he senses someone standing near their table, and when he looks up, it is Caleb, and although he had convinced himself he feels nothing, he is immediately, overwhelmingly terrified.

他們?cè)诠_德最喜歡的餐廳之一碰面，那里的牛肉來自主廚自己在紐約州北部農(nóng)場(chǎng)里飼養(yǎng)的牛，每只都取了名字；蔬菜則種在大樓屋頂。他們邊聊天邊吃著主菜時(shí)（他很小心地只用右邊牙齒咀嚼，而且小心不要讓新裝的那顆牙齒碰到食物），忽然感覺到有個(gè)人站在桌子旁，他抬頭看，是凱萊布。他已經(jīng)說服自己別有任何感覺，但那一刻，他立刻被排山倒海而來的恐懼淹沒。