《渺小一生》:萊納斯沒有什么不好

　 And so, another Friday. He goes to Andy’s. The scale: Andy sighing. The questions: his replies, a series of yeses and nos. Yes, he feels fine. No, no more pain than usual. No, no sign of wounds. Yes, an episode every ten days to two weeks. Yes, he’s been sleeping. Yes, he’s been seeing people. Yes, he’s been eating. Yes, three meals a day. Yes, every day. No, he doesn’t know why he then keeps losing weight. No, he doesn’t want to consider seeing Dr. Loehmann again. The inspection of his arms: Andy turning them in his hands, looking for new cuts, not finding any. The week after he returned from Beijing, the week after he had lost control, Andy had looked at them and gasped, and he had looked down, too, and had remembered how bad it had been at times, how insane it had gotten. But Andy hadn’t said anything, just cleaned him up, and after he had finished, he had held both of his hands in both of his.

又來到一個(gè)星期五。他去安迪的診所。量體重：安迪嘆氣。問問題：他回答，都是一連串的是和不。是的，他覺得很好。不，沒有異常的疼痛。不，沒有出現(xiàn)那些瘡的跡象。是的，每十天或兩星期背部的疼痛會(huì)發(fā)作。是的，他都有睡覺。是的，他有跟朋友碰面。是的，他有吃東西。是的，一天三餐。是的，每天都是。不，他不知道為什么他還是越來越瘦。不，他不考慮再去看婁曼醫(yī)生了。然后，安迪檢查他的兩只手臂，在手中轉(zhuǎn)來轉(zhuǎn)去，尋找新割傷，都沒找到。他從北京回來的那個(gè)星期，他失控的那個(gè)星期，安迪看到那些割傷，猛吸了一口氣。他也低下頭，想起有時(shí)他的感覺有多糟糕，自己變得多么瘋狂。但安迪什么都沒說，只是幫他清潔傷口，弄完之后，他握住他的雙手。

　 “A year,” Andy had said.

“一年了。”安迪當(dāng)時(shí)說。

　 “A year,” he had echoed. And they had both been silent.

“一年了?！彼舱f。然后兩個(gè)人沉默下來。

　 After the appointment, they go around the corner to a small Italian restaurant that they like. Andy is always watching him at these dinners, and if he thinks he’s not ordering enough food, he orders an additional dish for him and then badgers him until he eats it. But at this dinner he can tell Andy is anxious about something: as they wait for their food, Andy drinks, quickly, and talks to him about football, which he knows he doesn’t care about and never discusses with him. Andy had talked about sports with Willem, sometimes, and he would listen to them argue over one team or another as they sat at the dining table eating pistachios and he prepared dessert.

看完診，他們走過街角到他們很喜歡的一間意大利小餐廳。安迪總是在這些晚餐時(shí)刻觀察他，如果覺得他點(diǎn)的菜不夠多，就會(huì)幫他多點(diǎn)一道，一直逼他吃。但是這一天的晚餐，他看得出來安迪心事重重。他們等著上菜時(shí)，安迪喝酒喝得很快，還跟他聊美式橄欖球，他明知道他不迷橄欖球，以前從不跟他聊的。安迪以前有時(shí)會(huì)跟威廉聊運(yùn)動(dòng)，兩人坐在餐廳里邊吃開心果，邊為了某支球隊(duì)爭(zhēng)辯。同時(shí)，他會(huì)在旁邊準(zhǔn)備甜點(diǎn)。

　 “Sorry,” Andy says, at last. “I’m babbling.” Their appetizers arrive, and they eat, quietly, before Andy takes a breath.

“對(duì)不起，”安迪最后終于說，“我在碎碎念個(gè)不停。”他們的開胃菜上來了，兩個(gè)人安靜吃著，然后安迪吸了口氣。

　 “Jude,” he says, “I’m giving up the practice.”

“裘德，”他說，“我準(zhǔn)備要退休了?！?

　 He has been cutting into his eggplant, but now he stops, puts down his fork. “Not anytime soon,” Andy adds, quickly. “Not for another three years or so. But I’m bringing in a partner this year so the transition process will be as smooth as possible: for the staff, but especially for my patients. He’ll take over more and more of the patient load with each year.” He pauses. “I think you’ll like him. I know you will. I’m going to stay your doctor until the day I leave, and I’ll give you lots of notice before I do. But I want you to meet him, to see if there’s any sort of chemistry between you two”—Andy smiles a bit, but he can’t bring himself to smile back—“and if there’s not, for whatever reason, then we’ll have plenty of time to find you someone else. I have a couple of other people in mind who I know would be amenable to giving you the full-service treatment. And I won’t leave until we get you settled somewhere.”

他正在切他的茄子，這會(huì)兒停下來，放下叉子。“現(xiàn)在還早，”安迪趕緊補(bǔ)充，“大概還要三年。不過我今年會(huì)找個(gè)搭檔進(jìn)來，讓過渡期盡可能順利：對(duì)員工，尤其對(duì)我的病人。他會(huì)逐步接收我的病人?！彼麜和Ａ艘幌?，“我想你會(huì)喜歡他，一定會(huì)的。在我離開之前，我照樣是你的醫(yī)生，會(huì)照樣關(guān)心你。但是我希望你認(rèn)識(shí)他一下，看你們兩個(gè)是不是合得來。”安迪微笑一下，但他沒辦法微笑以對(duì)。“如果合不來，無論原因是什么，我們還有很多時(shí)間幫你找別人。我心里還有兩個(gè)人選，可以給你全方位的照顧。而且?guī)湍阏业叫氯诉x之前，我不會(huì)退休的。”

　 He still can’t say anything, can’t even lift his head to look at Andy. “Jude,” he hears Andy say, softly, pleadingly. “I wish I could stay forever, for your sake. You’re the only one I wish I could stay for. But I’m tired. I’m almost sixty-two, and I always swore to myself I’d retire before I turned sixty-five. I—”

他還是說不出話來，連抬頭看著安迪都沒辦法。“裘德，”他聽到安迪輕聲地懇求，“為了你，我真希望我能永遠(yuǎn)不退休。你是我唯一放不下的人。但是我累了。我快62歲了，我老發(fā)誓說我要在65歲前退休。我……”

　 But he stops him. “Andy,” he says, “of course you should retire when you want to. You don’t owe me an explanation. I’m happy for you. I am. I’m just. I’m just going to miss you. You’ve been so good to me.” He pauses. “I’m so dependent on you,” he admits at last.

但他阻止他講下去?！鞍驳?，”他說，“你想退休的時(shí)候，當(dāng)然就該退休。你沒有義務(wù)跟我解釋。我很替你開心。真的。我只是，我只是會(huì)很想念你的。”他最后終于承認(rèn)。

　 “Jude,” Andy begins, and then is silent. “Jude, I’ll always be your friend. I’ll always be here to help you, medically or otherwise. But you need someone who can grow old with you. This guy I’m bringing in is forty-six; he’ll be around to treat you for the rest of your life, if you want him.”

“裘德，”安迪開口又停下，“裘德，我永遠(yuǎn)會(huì)是你的朋友。我永遠(yuǎn)會(huì)陪著你，無論是醫(yī)療或其他方面。但你需要一個(gè)可以跟你一起變老的人。我找來的這個(gè)人46歲；如果你愿意，他會(huì)一直幫你看診的?！?

　 “As long as I die in the next nineteen years,” he hears himself saying. There’s another silence. “I’m sorry, Andy,” he says, appalled by how wretched he feels, how pettily he is behaving. He has always known, after all, that Andy would retire at some point. But he realizes now that he had never thought he would be alive to see it. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. “Don’t listen to me.”

“只要我在接下來的十九年內(nèi)死掉，”他聽到自己脫口而出。兩人又沉默了一會(huì)兒，“對(duì)不起，安迪。”他說，很受不了自己這么難過，還有自己表現(xiàn)得這么小氣，畢竟他一直知道安迪有一天會(huì)退休的。但現(xiàn)在他才明白，他從來沒想到自己能活著看到這一天?！皩?duì)不起，”他又說了一次，“別把我的話當(dāng)真?！?

　 “Jude,” Andy says, quietly. “I’ll always be here for you, in one way or another. I promised you way back when, and I still mean it now.

“裘德，”安迪低聲說，“我永遠(yuǎn)都會(huì)陪著你的，不論退不退休。我很早就跟你承諾過了，現(xiàn)在這個(gè)話還是不變。

　 “Look, Jude,” he continues, after a pause. “I know this isn’t going to be easy. I know that no one else is going to be able to re-create our history. I’m not being arrogant; I just don’t think anyone else is going to totally understand, necessarily. But we’ll get as close as we can. And who couldn’t love you?” Andy smiles again, but once more, he can’t smile back. “Either way, I want you to come meet this new guy: Linus. He’s a good doctor, and just as important, a good person. I won’t tell him any of your specifics; I just want you to meet him, all right?”

“聽我說，裘德，”安迪暫停一下又繼續(xù)說，“我知道這對(duì)你來說不容易。我知道沒有其他人能復(fù)制我們的歷史。不是我狂妄，我只是不認(rèn)為其他人能完全了解。但我們會(huì)盡量想辦法。何況誰能不愛你呢？”安迪又笑了。再一次，他沒辦法微笑以對(duì)?！翱傊?，我希望你來認(rèn)識(shí)這位新醫(yī)生萊納斯。他是個(gè)好醫(yī)生，而且同樣重要的，他是個(gè)好人。我不會(huì)把你所有的細(xì)節(jié)狀況告訴他；我只是希望你跟他認(rèn)識(shí)一下，好嗎？”

　 So the next Friday he goes uptown, and in Andy’s office is another man, short and handsome and with a smile that reminds him of Willem’s. Andy introduces them and they shake hands. “I’ve heard so much about you, Jude,” Linus says. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, finally.”

于是下一個(gè)星期五，他去了上城安迪的診所，診間里有另一個(gè)男人，個(gè)子矮而英俊，微笑時(shí)讓他想起威廉。安迪介紹他們認(rèn)識(shí)，兩人握手。“裘德，我聽過好多你的事?！比R納斯說，“很高興終于認(rèn)識(shí)你了。”

　 “You too,” he says. “Congratulations.”

“我也是，”他說，“恭喜了?！?

　 Andy leaves them to talk, and they do, a little awkwardly, joking about how this meeting seems like a blind date. Linus has been told only about his amputations, and they discuss them briefly, and the osteomyelitis that had preceded them. “Those treatments can be a killer,” Linus says, but he doesn’t offer his sympathy for his lost legs, which he appreciates. Linus had been a doctor at a group practice that he’d heard Andy mention before; he seems genuinely admiring of Andy and excited to be working with him.

安迪離開讓他們聊一下。他們聊著，有點(diǎn)尷尬，打趣說這有點(diǎn)像在相親。安迪只跟萊納斯說了他截肢的事，他們簡(jiǎn)短聊了兩腿的狀況，還有之前的骨髓炎?！澳切┲委熡锌赡茉斐缮ｋU(xiǎn)?！比R納斯說，不過他沒對(duì)他失去雙腿表示同情，這點(diǎn)他很感激。他之前聽安迪說，萊納斯原先跟別的醫(yī)生聯(lián)合開業(yè)；而他似乎真的很欣賞安迪，也很興奮兩人能共事。

　 There is nothing wrong with Linus. He can tell, by the questions he asks, and the respect with which he asks them, that he is indeed a good doctor, and probably a good person. But he also knows he will never be able to undress in front of Linus. He can’t imagine having the discussions he has with Andy with anyone else. He can’t imagine allowing anyone else such access to his body, to his fears. When he thinks of someone seeing his body anew he quails: ever since the amputation, he has only looked at himself once. He watches Linus’s face, his unsettlingly Willem-like smile, and although he is only five years older than Linus, he feels centuries older, something broken and desiccated, something that anyone would look at and quickly throw the tarpaulin over once more. “Take this one away,” they’d say. “It’s junked.”

萊納斯沒有什么不好。從萊納斯問的問題，還有提問時(shí)尊重的態(tài)度，看得出他是個(gè)好醫(yī)生，大概也是個(gè)好人。但他也知道自己永遠(yuǎn)沒辦法在萊納斯面前脫掉衣服。他無法想象自己能像跟安迪那樣跟其他人討論。他無法想象讓其他人像安迪那樣接觸他的身體，接觸他的恐懼。光是想到又有個(gè)人要看到他的身體，他就膽怯起來：自從截肢以來，他只看過自己一次。他看著萊納斯的臉，看著那令人不安、神似威廉的微笑。盡管他只比萊納斯年長(zhǎng)五歲，卻感覺像老了幾百歲，像個(gè)破爛、干燥的尸骸，任何人看一眼就會(huì)把外頭的防水布蓋回去?！斑@個(gè)拿走?！彼麄儠?huì)說，“這是垃圾。”

　 He thinks of the conversations he will need to have, the explanations he will need to give: about his back, his arms, his legs, his diseases. He is so sick of his own fears, his own trepidations, but as tired as he is of them, he also cannot stop himself from indulging them. He thinks of Linus paging slowly through his chart, of seeing the years, the decades, of notes Andy has made about him: lists of his cuts, of his wounds, of the medications he has been on, of the flare-ups of his infections. Notes on his suicide attempt, on Andy’s pleas to get him to see Dr. Loehmann. He knows Andy has chronicled all of this; he knows how meticulous he is.

他想著往后必須談的，想著他得解釋的事情：有關(guān)他的背部、他的手臂、他的雙腿、他的疾病。他受不了自己的害怕和驚惶，但盡管他這么厭倦這些情緒，還是忍不住縱容它們。他想到萊納斯緩緩翻閱他的病歷，看到這二三十年來安迪寫下的紀(jì)錄：列出他的割傷、他無法愈合的瘡、他接受的藥物治療、他復(fù)發(fā)的感染，還有他自殺未遂、安迪懇求他去看婁曼醫(yī)生的事情。他知道安迪把這些全部記錄下來了；他知道安迪有多么一絲不茍。

　 “You have to tell someone,” Ana used to say, and as he had grown older, he had decided to interpret this sentence literally: Some One. Someday, he thought, somehow, he would find a way to tell some one, one person. And then he had, someone he had trusted, and that person had died, and he didn’t have the fortitude to tell his story ever again. But then, didn’t everyone only tell their lives—truly tell their lives—to one person? How often could he really be expected to repeat himself, when with each telling he was stripping the clothes from his skin and the flesh from his bones, until he was as vulnerable as a small pink mouse? He knows, then, that he will never be able to go to another doctor. He will go to Andy for as long as he can, for as long as Andy will let him. And after that, he doesn’t know—he will figure out what to do then. For now, his privacy, his life, is still his. For now, no one else needs to know. His thoughts are so occupied with Willem—trying to re-create him, to hold his face and voice in his head, to keep him present—that his past is as far away as it has ever been: he is in the middle of a lake, trying to stay afloat; he can’t think of returning to shore and having to live among his memories again.

“你得找個(gè)人說出來?！币郧鞍材瓤偸沁@么說。等到他年紀(jì)大一些，就決定把這句話照字面解釋：告訴某個(gè)人就好。有一天，他心想，他會(huì)找到方法告訴某個(gè)人的，一個(gè)人就好。他也找到一個(gè)可以信賴的人說出來，但現(xiàn)在這個(gè)人死了，他再也沒有那個(gè)勇氣把自己的故事再說一次了。但說到底，每個(gè)人不都是這樣？只會(huì)對(duì)一個(gè)人真正說出自己的人生？大家怎能期待他一再重復(fù)，讓他每說一次就像被剝掉衣服、皮肉從骨頭上脫離，直到他脆弱無助得像只小小的粉紅色老鼠？他知道，他絕對(duì)沒辦法看另一個(gè)醫(yī)生。他會(huì)繼續(xù)找安迪，越久越好，拖到安迪拒絕為止。之后，他就不知道了，到時(shí)候再來想辦法吧。眼前，他的隱私、他的人生，還是他自己的。眼前，沒必要讓其他人知道。他的思緒幾乎完全被威廉占據(jù)了——設(shè)法重新創(chuàng)造他，在腦袋里留住他的臉和聲音，設(shè)法把他留在當(dāng)下。他的過去離得好遠(yuǎn)好遠(yuǎn)：他像在湖中央，設(shè)法不要沉沒；他無法想象回到岸上，不得不再度活在那些記憶中。

　 He doesn’t want to go to dinner with Andy that night, but they do, telling Linus goodbye as they leave. They walk to the sushi restaurant in silence, sit in silence, order, and wait in silence.

那天晚上，他不想跟安迪去吃晚餐，但還是去了。臨走時(shí)他們跟萊納斯說了再見。他們默默走向那間壽司餐廳，沉默地坐下來，點(diǎn)了菜，然后沉默地等著上菜。