《渺小一生》:“所以這是我的錯(cuò)嘍？”

　 “I think you should eat more,” he says. He had to gain weight to play Turing, and although he’s lost some of it, he feels massive beside Jude, something puffed and expansive. “Andy’s going to think I’m not doing a good job taking care of you and he’s going to yell at me,” he adds, and Jude makes a sound he thinks is a laugh.

“我覺(jué)得你應(yīng)該多吃一點(diǎn)?！彼f(shuō)。他之前為了扮演圖靈增重，雖然已經(jīng)瘦回來(lái)一點(diǎn)，但在裘德旁邊他還是覺(jué)得自己巨大，腫脹又龐然。“安迪會(huì)覺(jué)得我沒(méi)有好好照顧你，他會(huì)罵我的?！彼f(shuō)。裘德發(fā)出一個(gè)聲音，他覺(jué)得是笑聲。

　 The next morning, the day before Thanksgiving, they are both cheery—they both like driving—and load their bag and the boxes of cookies and pies and breads that Jude has baked for Harold and Julia into the car and set off early, the car bouncing east over the cobble-stoned streets of SoHo, and then whooshing up the FDR Drive, singing along to the Duets soundtrack. Outside Worcester they stop at a gas station and Jude goes in to buy them mints and water. He waits in the car, leafing through the paper, and when Jude’s phone rings, he reaches over and sees who it is and answers it.

次日早晨，感恩節(jié)前一天，兩個(gè)人都興高采烈（他們兩個(gè)都很喜歡開(kāi)車），把行李袋和裘德幫哈羅德及朱麗婭烤的一盒盒餅干、派和面包放進(jìn)車?yán)铮茉缇统霭l(fā)上路。車子顛簸往東駛過(guò)蘇荷區(qū)的卵石街道，然后加速上了羅斯福東河大道，兩人跟著《二重唱》的電影原聲帶一起唱著歌。到了麻州伍斯特市外，他們?cè)谝粋€(gè)加油站停下來(lái)，裘德進(jìn)入站里的商店買薄荷糖和水。他在車?yán)锏群?，翻著?bào)紙。裘德的手機(jī)響了，他伸手去拿，看到來(lái)電顯示的人，就接了。

　 “Have you told Willem yet?” he hears Andy’s voice saying even before he can say hello. “You have three more days after today, Jude, and then I’m telling him myself. I mean it.”

“你跟威廉說(shuō)了嗎？”他還沒(méi)來(lái)得及出聲，就聽(tīng)到安迪的聲音說(shuō)，“過(guò)了今天以后，你就只剩三天了，裘德，然后我會(huì)自己告訴他。我說(shuō)真的?！?

　 “Andy?” he says, and there is a sudden, sharp silence.

“安迪？”他說(shuō)，接下來(lái)是一段驟然、鮮明的寂靜。

　 “Willem,” Andy says. “Fuck.” In the background, he can hear a small child’s delighted voice trill out—“Uncle Andy said a bad word!”—and then Andy swears again, and he can hear a door sliding shut. “Why’re you answering Jude’s phone?” Andy asks. “Where is he?”

“威廉，”安迪說(shuō)，“媽的?！北尘袄铮?tīng)得到一個(gè)小孩興奮地尖叫“安迪叔叔講臟話！”安迪又罵了一聲，他聽(tīng)得到門甩上的聲音。“你干嗎接裘德的手機(jī)？”安迪問(wèn)，“他人呢？”

　 “We’re driving up to Harold and Julia’s,” he says. “He’s getting water.” On the other end, there is silence. “Tell me what, Andy?” he asks.

“我們正開(kāi)車要去哈羅德和朱麗婭家?！彼f(shuō)，“他去買水了。”電話的另一頭還是沉默?！鞍驳希嬖V我什么？”他問(wèn)。

　 “Willem,” Andy says, and stops. “I can’t. I told him I’d let him do it.”

“威廉，”安迪說(shuō)，又停住，“我不能說(shuō)。我告訴過(guò)他我會(huì)讓他自己說(shuō)的。”

　 “Well, he hasn’t said anything to me,” he says, and he can feel himself fill with strata of emotions: fear layered upon irritation layered upon fear layered upon curiosity layered upon fear. “Andy, you’d better tell me,” he says. Something in him starts to panic. “Is it bad?” he asks. And then he begins to plead: “Andy, don’t do this to me.”

“唔，他什么都沒(méi)跟我說(shuō)?！彼f(shuō)，然后可以感覺(jué)到心里充滿好多層情緒：恐懼疊上惱怒再疊上恐懼再疊上好奇再疊上恐懼。“安迪，你最好告訴我。”他說(shuō)，心里恐慌起來(lái)，“是很糟的事嗎？”他問(wèn)，然后開(kāi)始懇求，“安迪，別瞞著我?！?

　 He hears Andy breathing, slowly. “Willem,” he says, quietly. “Ask him how he really got the burn on his arm. I have to go.”

他聽(tīng)到安迪緩緩呼吸?！巴?，”他低聲說(shuō)，“問(wèn)他手臂上的燒傷到底是怎么來(lái)的。我得掛電話了?！?

　 “Andy!” he yells. “Andy!” But he’s gone.

“安迪！”他大喊，“安迪！”但安迪掛斷了。

　 He twists his head and looks out the window and sees Jude walking toward him. The burn, he thinks: What about the burn? Jude had gotten it when he tried to make the fried plantains JB likes. “Fucking JB,” he’d said, seeing the bandage wrapped around Jude’s arm. “Always fucking everything up,” and Jude had laughed. “Seriously, though,” he’d said, “are you okay, Judy?” And Jude had said he was: he had gone to Andy’s, and they had done a graft with some artificial skin-like material. They’d had an argument, then, that Jude hadn’t told him how serious the burn was—from Jude’s e-mail, he had assumed it was a singe, certainly not something worthy of a skin graft—and another one this morning when Jude insisted on driving, even though his arm was still clearly hurting him, but: What about the burn? And then, suddenly, he realizes that there is only one way to interpret Andy’s words, and he has to quickly lower his head because he is as dizzy as if someone had just hit him.

他轉(zhuǎn)向窗外，看到裘德走向他。燒傷，他心想：那個(gè)燒傷怎么了？裘德說(shuō)是因?yàn)橄胱鼋鼙葠?ài)吃的炸芭蕉而燒傷的?！八麐尩慕鼙?，”之前他說(shuō)，看著裘德手臂上纏繞的繃帶，“總是把一切搞砸。”裘德大笑。“不過(guò)說(shuō)真的，”他說(shuō)，“你還好嗎，小裘？”裘德說(shuō)他很好；他去安迪那里看過(guò)了，他們用某種人工皮幫他做了植皮。然后他們又爭(zhēng)執(zhí)了幾句，裘德之前都沒(méi)跟他說(shuō)那個(gè)燒傷有多嚴(yán)重（從裘德的電子郵件，他以為只是輕微灼傷，沒(méi)想到還要植皮）。另外今天早上他們又爭(zhēng)執(zhí)了一番，因?yàn)轸玫聢?jiān)持要開(kāi)車，雖然他的手臂還是很痛，但是：那個(gè)燒傷怎么了？忽然間，他知道安迪的話只有一個(gè)解釋，他不得不趕緊低下頭，因?yàn)樗X(jué)得腦袋發(fā)暈，仿佛剛剛有人狠狠打了他。

　 “Sorry,” Jude says, easing back into the car. “The line took forever.” He shakes the mints out of the bag, and then turns and sees him. “Willem?” he asks. “What’s wrong? You look terrible.”

“對(duì)不起，”裘德回到車上說(shuō)，“排隊(duì)好長(zhǎng)?！彼麖拇永锬贸霰『商牵缓筠D(zhuǎn)頭看他?！巴彼麊?wèn)，“怎么了？你臉色好差。”

　 “Andy called,” he says, and he watches Jude’s face, watches it become stony and scared. “Jude,” he says, and his own voice sounds far away, as if he’s speaking from the depths of a gulch, “how did you get the burn on your arm?” But Jude won’t answer him, just stares at him. This isn’t happening, he tells himself.

“安迪剛剛打電話來(lái)了。”他說(shuō)，然后看著裘德的臉，看著那張臉變得僵硬而恐懼?！棒玫?，”他說(shuō)，覺(jué)得自己的聲音聽(tīng)起來(lái)很遙遠(yuǎn)，好像從峽谷深處傳來(lái)，“你手臂上的燒傷是怎么來(lái)的？”但裘德沒(méi)回答，只是瞪著他。這沒(méi)有發(fā)生過(guò)，他告訴自己。

　 But of course it is. “Jude,” he repeats, “how did you get the burn on your arm?” But Jude only keeps staring at him, his lips closed, and he asks again, and again. Finally, “Jude!” he shouts, astonished by his own fury, and Jude ducks his head. “Jude! Tell me! Tell me right now!”

但是當(dāng)然發(fā)生了?！棒玫拢彼终f(shuō)了一次，“你手臂上的燒傷是怎么來(lái)的？”裘德只是繼續(xù)瞪著他，雙唇緊閉，然后他又問(wèn)了一次，再問(wèn)一次。最后，“裘德！”他大吼，被自己的怒氣嚇壞了，而裘德突然腦袋往下一縮?！棒玫?！告訴我！現(xiàn)在就告訴我！”

　 And then Jude says something so quietly he can’t hear him. “Louder,” he shouts at him. “I can’t hear you.”

于是裘德說(shuō)了些話，聲音小到他根本聽(tīng)不見(jiàn)?！按舐朁c(diǎn)，”他又朝他吼，“我聽(tīng)不見(jiàn)?！?

　 “I burned myself,” Jude says at last, very softly.

“我自己燒的。”裘德最后終于說(shuō)了，還是很小聲。

　 “How?” he asks, wildly, and once again, Jude’s answer is delivered in such a low voice that he misses most of it, but he can still distinguish certain words: olive oil—match—fire.

“怎么燒的？”他失控地大聲問(wèn)。再一次，裘德的回答很小聲，他大部分都聽(tīng)不見(jiàn)，但還是聽(tīng)出某些字眼︰橄欖油、火柴、火。

　 “Why?” he yells, desperately. “Why did you do this, Jude?” He is so angry—at himself, at Jude—that for the first time since he has known him, he wants to hit him, he can see his fist smashing into Jude’s nose, into his cheek. He wants to see his face shattered, and he wants to be the one to do it.

“為什么？”他竭力吼道，“裘德，你為什么要這么做？”他很生氣，氣自己，也氣裘德，氣到兩人認(rèn)識(shí)以來(lái)頭一回，他想打他，他可以想象自己的拳頭擊中裘德的鼻子、他的臉頰。他想看到他的臉被打爛，他想當(dāng)那個(gè)打爛他臉的人。

　 “I was trying not to cut myself,” Jude says, tinily, and this makes him newly livid.

“我那時(shí)試著不要割自己。”裘德說(shuō)，很小聲。這句話又讓威廉涌上滿肚子火。

　 “So it’s my fault?” he asks. “You’re doing this to punish me?”

“所以這是我的錯(cuò)嘍？”他問(wèn)，“你這么做是為了要懲罰我？”