激情丨PASSION （下）

星期天上午，等莫里把格雷斯带到湖滨这边来时，火鸡已经在烤炉里烤上了。因为有小小孩，晚餐得早些开，大约在五点钟吧。馅饼已摆放在厨房的料理台上了——南瓜馅的、苹果馅的、蓝莓馅的都有。主厨的是格蕾琴，她在厨房里的动作灵活协调得跟个运动员似的。特拉弗斯太太坐在厨房桌子旁，和格蕾琴的小女儿达娜一起玩拼图游戏。

By the time Maury brought Grace down to the lake on Sunday morning, the turkey was already in the oven. Because of the children, dinner would be early, around five o’clock. The pies were on the kitchen counter—pumpkin, apple, wild blueberry. Gretchen was in charge of the kitchen—as coordinated a cook as she was an athlete. Mrs. Travers sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and working at a jigsaw puzzle with Gretchen’s younger daughter, Dana.

“啊，格雷斯。”她喊道，一边跳起身来要跟格雷斯拥抱——她这样做还是第一次——由于动作不灵活，她的一只手弄乱了拼装的小木片。

“Ah, Grace,” she said, jumping up for an embrace—the first time she had ever done this—and with a clumsy motion of her hand scattering the jigsaw pieces.

达娜不高兴了。“外婆。”她哭哭叽叽地喊道，然后一直在边上挑剔性地瞧着她的姐姐詹妮去把小木片收集拢来。

Dana wailed, “Grandma,” and her older sister, Janey, who had been watching critically, scooped up the pieces.

“可以重新摆好的嘛，”詹妮说，“外婆也不是存心想弄乱的。”

“We can put them back together,” she said. “Grandma didn’t mean to.”

“越橘沙司你放哪儿了？”格蕾琴问。

“Where do you keep the cranberry sauce?” said Gretchen.

“在食品柜里。”特拉弗斯太太说，仍然紧捏着格雷斯的胳臂，也没有去管弄乱了的游戏。

“In the cupboard,” said Mrs. Travers, still squeezing Grace’s arms and ignoring the destroyed puzzle.

“食品柜里的哪儿呀？”

“Where in the cupboard?”

“哦。越橘沙司呀，”特拉弗斯太太说，“呃——我自己做的。我先让越橘浸入少量的水，然后在文火上慢慢加热——不，我想是先用水把它们泡透了——”

“Oh. Cranberry sauce,” Mrs. Travers said. “Well—I make it. First I put the cranberries in a little water. Then I keep it on low heat—no, I think I soak them first—”

“唉，我没时间听你从头说起了，”格蕾琴说，“你的意思是说你根本没有沙司罐头？”

“Well, I haven’t got time for all that,” Gretchen said. “You mean you don’t have any canned?”

“我想是没有。我一定是没有的，因为我是自己做的。”

“I guess not. I must not have, because I make it.”

“那我得派谁去买几罐来了。”

“I’ll have to send somebody to get some.”

“你要不要去问问伍兹太太她那儿有没有？”

“Maybe you could ask Mrs. Woods?”

“不了。我都没怎么跟她说过话。我没这个心思。得让谁往商店跑一趟。”

“No. I’ve hardly even spoken to her. I haven’t got the nerve. Somebody’ll have to go to the store.”

“亲爱的——现在是感恩节，”特拉弗斯太太柔声柔气地说道，“哪家铺子都不会开门的。”

“Dear—it’s Thanksgiving,” said Mrs. Travers gently. “Nowhere will be open.”

“顺着公路下去的那家，任何日子都是营业的。”格蕾琴的声音变得响起来了，“沃特在哪儿？”

“That place down the highway, it’s always open.” Gretchen raised her voice. “Where’s Wat?”

“他下湖划船去了。”梅维斯从后卧室里喊道。她让自己的声音里带有一些警告的意思，因为她正在哄她的小宝宝入睡，“他把米基也带上船了。”

“He’s out in the rowboat,” called Mavis from the back bedroom. She made it sound like a warning, because she was trying to get her baby to sleep. “He took Mikey out in the boat.”

梅维斯是驾自己的车带了米基和小宝宝来的。尼尔得稍晚一些才来——他有几个电话要打。

Mavis had driven over in her own car with Mikey and the baby. Neil was coming later—he had some phone calls to make.

而特拉弗斯先生又是打高尔夫球去了。

And Mr. Travers had gone golfing.

“我只是想让谁去商店跑一趟。”格蕾琴说。她等着，可是后卧室那边没有传来愿意帮忙的回应。她朝格雷斯扬了扬眉毛。

“It’s just that I need somebody to go to the store,” Gretchen said. She waited, but no offer came from the bedroom. She raised her eyebrows at Grace.

“你不会开车吧，你能开吗？”

“You can’t drive, can you?”

格雷斯说她不会。

Grace said no.

特拉弗斯太太朝四下里看了看，找她的那把椅子，在她坐下来之后，便舒心地叹了一口气。

Mrs. Travers looked around to see where her chair was, and sat down, with a grateful sigh.

“对了，”格蕾琴说，“莫里能开车。莫里在哪儿呢？”

“Well,” said Gretchen. “Maury can drive. Where’s Maury?”

莫里在前卧室里找他的游泳裤，虽然每一个人都告诉他水太冷，不宜游泳。他也说商店不会开门的。

Maury was in the front bedroom looking for his swimming trunks, though everybody had told him that the water would be too cold for swimming. He said the store would not be open.

“会开的，”格蕾琴说，“他们卖汽油。就算那一家不开，快到珀斯那里还有一家，知道吧，就是卖蛋卷冰激凌的那家——”

“It will be,” said Gretchen. “They sell gas. And if it isn’t there’s that one just coming into Perth, you know, with the ice-cream cones—”

莫里想让格雷斯和他一起去，可是那两个小姑娘，詹妮和达娜，正拉着她一块儿去看外公在屋子旁边挪威枫树上安装的那架秋千。

Maury wanted Grace to come with him, but the two little girls, Janey and Dana, were pulling her to come with them to see the swing their grandfather had put up under the Norway maple at the side of the house.

在走下台阶时，格雷斯发觉她一只凉鞋的带子断了。她干脆把两只鞋子都脱了——在沙土地上走得挺惬意的，那里长有小草的地压得挺瓷实，上面还落了一层干枯起卷的叶子。

Going down the steps, she felt the strap of one of her sandals break. She took both shoes off and walked without difficulty on the sandy soil, the flat-pressed plantain, and the many curled leaves that had already fallen.

她先推两个坐上了秋千的孩子，接着又由她们来推她。在她光着脚从那上面跳下来时，一条腿蜷了起来，她疼得“哎哟”了一声，不知道什么地方出了毛病。

First she pushed the children in the swing, then they pushed her. It was when she jumped off, barefoot, that one leg crumpled and she let out a yelp of pain, not knowing what had happened.

不是腿的事，是她的脚。疼痛是从她左脚底部那里发出来的，那儿让蛤壳锋利的侧边划破了。

It was her foot, not her leg. The pain had shot up from the sole of her left foot, which had been cut by the sharp edge of a clamshell.

“蛤壳是达娜找来的，”詹妮说，“她要给她的蜗牛搭一所小房子。”

“Dana brought those shells,” Janey said. “She was going to make a house for her snail.”

“蜗牛跑掉了。”达娜说。

“He got away,” said Dana.

格蕾琴、特拉弗斯太太，甚至是梅维斯都匆匆跑出了屋子，以为叫疼的是哪个孩子。

Gretchen and Mrs. Travers and even Mavis had come hurrying out of the house, thinking the cry came from one of the children.

“她的脚流血了，”达娜说，“都流了一地。”

“She’s got a bloody foot,” said Dana. “There’s blood all over the ground.”

詹妮说：“她是让贝壳划伤的。贝壳是达娜捡来的，她想给伊凡盖座房子。伊凡是她的蜗牛。”

Janey said, “She cut it on a shell. Dana left those shells here, she was going to build a house for Ivan. Ivan her snail.”

于是有人端来了一盆水，用水冲干净伤口，毛巾也拿来了，大家七嘴八舌地问伤得厉害不厉害。

Then there was a basin brought out, water to wash the cut, a towel, and everyone was asking how much it hurt.

“还行吧。”格雷斯说，一瘸一拐地走向台阶，两个小姑娘争着要搀扶她，结果却绊住了她，真是越帮越忙。

“Not too bad,” said Grace, limping to the steps, with both little girls competing to hold her up and generally getting in her way.

“哎呀，挺严重的，”格蕾琴说，“不过你怎么不穿鞋呢？”

“Oh, that’s nasty,” Gretchen said. “But why weren’t you wearing your shoes?”

“她的鞋带断了，”达娜和詹妮异口同声地说，就在此时，一辆酒红色的敞篷汽车几乎不出声音地拐进停车空地。

“Broke her strap,” said Dana and Janey together, as a wine-colored convertible, making very little sound, swerved neatly round in the parking space.

“哟，这真是不能再巧了，”特拉弗斯太太说，“来的正好是我们所需要的人。一位大夫。”

“Now, that is what I call opportune,” said Mrs. Travers. “Here ’s the very man we need. The doctor.”

这就是尼尔，格雷斯还是头一次见到他。他高高瘦瘦的，动作很灵活。

This was Neil, the first time Grace had ever seen him. He was tall, spare, quick-moving.

“你的药箱呢，”特拉弗斯太太开心地喊起来，“已经有一个病人在等你了。”

“Your bag,” cried Mrs. Travers gaily. “We’ve already got a case for you.”

“你那辆车挺不错呀，”格蕾琴说，“新买的？”

“Nice piece of junk you’ve got there,” said Gretchen. “New?”

尼尔说：“华而不实罢了。”

Neil said, “Piece of folly.”

“小宝宝这会儿肯定醒了。”梅维斯像是发着无名火似的，一扭身便朝屋子走回去。

“Now the baby’s wakened.” Mavis gave a sigh of unspecific accusation and she went back into the house.

詹妮一本正经地说：“你一来气儿，便会说小宝宝要醒了。”

Janey said severely, “You can’t do anything without that baby waking up.”

“你给我闭上嘴。”格蕾琴说。

“You better be quiet,” said Gretchen.

“可别告诉我们你没有带药箱哟。”特拉弗斯太太说。不过尼尔倒是手一挥，从后备厢里把只药箱提了出来，于是她又说：“啊，你带了的，那太好了，总是要以防万一的呀。”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t got it with you,” said Mrs. Travers. But Neil swung a doctor’s bag out of the backseat, and she said, “Oh, yes you have, that’s good, you never know.”

“你就是那病人？”尼尔向达娜说，“怎么回事？咽下了一只癞蛤蟆？”

“You the patient?” Neil said to Dana. “What’s the matter? Swallow a toad?”

“是她，”达娜很要面子地说，“是格雷斯。”

“It’s her,” said Dana with dignity. “It’s Grace.”

“我明白了。她吞了一只癞蛤蟆。”

“I see. She swallowed the toad.”

“她划破脚了。血流呀流，流呀流。”

“She cut her foot. It’s bleeding and bleeding.”

“是让蛤壳划的。”詹妮说。

“On a clamshell,” said Janey.

这时尼尔对那两个外甥女说了声“闪开点儿”，就在比格雷斯低一级的台阶上坐下，他轻轻抬起她的一只脚，说：“把那块布还是什么的递给我。”接下去便小心翼翼地吸干净血，好检查伤口。他现在离她那么近，格雷斯便闻出了她在小旅馆干了一夏季活儿学会辨别的气味——带点薄荷味儿的酒精气味。

Now Neil said “Move over” to his nieces, and sat on the step below Grace, and carefully lifted the foot and said, “Give me that cloth or whatever,” then carefully blotted away the blood to get a look at the cut. Now that he was so close to her, Grace noticed a smell she had learned to identify this summer working at the inn—the smell of liquor edged with mint.

“一点儿不错，”他说，“血流个不停。洗干净了，这做得挺好。疼吧？”

“It sure is,” he said. “It’s bleeding and bleeding. That’s a good thing, clean it out. Hurts?”

格雷斯说：“有点儿。”

Grace said, “Some.”

他探索性地正视她的脸，虽然那只是迅速的一瞥。也许是在探究她有没有闻出那股气味，她又会作何感想。

He looked searchingly, though briefly, into her face. Perhaps wondering if she had caught the smell, and what she thought about it.

“肯定是疼得不轻。瞧见搭下来的那块皮了吗？我们还得探到那底下去，确定没受到污染，然后在上面缝上几针。我这儿有些药，抹上后你就不会觉得太疼了。”他抬起头看着格蕾琴，“嘿。把这些观众弄开去好不好。”

“I bet. See that flap? We have to get under there and make sure it’s clean, then I’ll put a stitch or two in it. I’ve got some stuff I can rub on so that won’t hurt as bad as you might think.” He looked up at Gretchen. “Hey. Let’s get the audience out of the way here.”

直到此时他还没有跟他母亲说过一句话呢，而她却还在不断地说他来得倒真是时候。

He had not spoken a word, as yet, to his mother, who now repeated that it was such a good thing that he had come along just when he did.

“时刻准备着。”他说，“童子军不是经常这么说的吗？”

“Boy Scout,” he said. “Always at the ready.”

他的手很稳，一点不像喝醉的样子，他的眼神也一点儿不像。他也不像他跟孩子们说话时想装出的那副快乐叔叔的模样，或是想在格雷斯面前充当的、安慰话说得比唱得都好听的大哥哥的角色。他那苍白的脑门高高的，有一头密密实实的灰黑鬈发，灰色眼睛挺亮，大嘴巴的嘴唇皮薄薄的，一扭曲时，便显出一副挺不耐烦、消化不良或是挺痛苦的模样。

His hands didn’t feel drunk, and his eyes didn’t look it. Neither did he look like the jolly uncle he had impersonated when he talked to the children, or the purveyor of reassuring patter he had chosen to be with Grace. He had a high pale forehead, a crest of tight curly gray-black hair, bright gray eyes, a wide thin-lipped mouth that seemed to curl in on some vigorous impatience, or appetite, or pain.

就在台阶上把伤口包扎好了之后——这时格蕾琴已经回进厨房，把孩子们也一并带走了，可是特拉弗斯太太仍然没有走，她仔细地观察着，嘴唇抿得紧紧的，似乎要保证她是不会插一句嘴打扰他们似的——尼尔说他认为最好还是把格雷斯带到镇上的医院去。

When the cut had been bandaged, out on the steps— Gretchen having gone back to the kitchen and made the children come with her, but Mrs. Travers remaining, watching intently, with her lips pressed together as if promising that she would not make any interruptions—Neil said that he thought it would be a good idea to run Grace into town, to the hospital.

“要打一支破伤风针。”

“For an anti-tetanus shot.”

“不至于这么严重吧。”格雷斯说。

“It doesn’t feel too bad,” said Grace.

尼尔说：“关键不在这儿。”

Neil said, “That’s not the point.”

“我看还是去的好，”特拉弗斯太太说，“真得了破伤风——那可不是闹着玩的。”

“I agree,” said Mrs. Travers. “Tetanus—that’s terrible.”

“用不了多长时间的，”他说，“好吗，格雷斯？格雷斯，让我扶你上车。”他撑着她的一只胳膊。她穿上那只没坏的凉鞋，把受伤那只脚的脚趾套在另一只鞋子里，以便拖着脚往前走。绷带打得既整齐又紧密。

“We shouldn’t be long,” he said. “Here. Grace? Grace, I’ll get you to the car.” He held her under one arm. She had strapped on the one sandal, and managed to get her toes into the other so that she could drag it along. The bandage was very neat and tight.

“我一会儿就回来，”他说，这时她已经在座位上坐好了，“跟大家说一声抱歉。”

“I’ll just run in,” he said, when she was sitting in the car. “Make my apologies.”

向格蕾琴吗？是向梅维斯吧。

To Gretchen? To Mavis.

特拉弗斯太太从游廊上走下来，脸上一副迷迷蒙蒙很热情的样子，那在她身上显得很自然，而且真的很真诚，尤其是在今天。她把手按在车门上。

Mrs. Travers came down from the verandah, wearing the look of hazy enthusiasm that seemed natural to her, and indeed irrepressible, on this day. She put her hand on the car door.

“这很好，”她说，“这太好了。格雷斯，你简直是上天派下来的。你会注意不让他今天喝酒的，对吧？你当然是知道应该怎么做的。”

“This is good,” she said. “This is very good. Grace, you are a godsend. You’ll try to keep him away from drinking today, won’t you? You’ll know how to do it.”

格雷斯听着这些话，却几乎没有用心去想上一想。特拉弗斯太太身上所起的变化使她感到非常不安，她的躯体显得比以前笨重了，所有的动作也变得僵滞了，表现出的慈爱似乎很偶然很冲动，眼角透露出一种带泪的微笑。她嘴角那里像是沾了一层稀薄的壳，有点像是糖浆造成的。

Grace heard these words, but gave them hardly any thought. She was too dismayed by the change in Mrs. Travers, by what looked like an increase in bulk, a stiffness in all her movements, a random and rather frantic air of benevolence, a weepy gladness leaking out of her eyes. And a faint crust showing at the corners of her mouth, like sugar.

医院是在三英里外的卡尔顿屯。铁路上方有一条高架路，他们开在那条路上速度快得惊人，格雷斯觉得开得最快时，车子真的是离开了路面，他们是在飞。路上几乎没有别的汽车，所以她倒不怎么害怕，再说这事也不是她管得了的。

The hospital was in Carleton Place, three miles away. There was a highway overpass above the railway tracks, and they took this at such speed that Grace had the impression that at its crest the car had lifted off the pavement, they were flying. There was hardly any traffic about, she was not frightened, and anyway there was nothing she could do.

尼尔认识急诊室的当班护士，他填完表格，让护士顺带看了看格雷斯的脚。（“活儿干得漂亮。”她不咸不淡地说了一句。）于是他可以亲自去干下面的活儿——给格雷斯打针了。（“当时不觉得疼，但过一会儿会的。”）他打完针，护士回进那小隔间，说：“候诊室里有个人要接她回去。”

Neil knew the nurse who was on duty in Emergency, and after he had filled out a form and let her take a passing look at Grace’s foot (“Nice job,” she said without interest), he was able to go ahead and give the tetanus shot himself. (“It won’t hurt now, but it could later.”) Just as he finished, the nurse came back into the cubicle and said, “There’s a guy in the waiting room to take her home.”

她对格雷斯说：“他说他是你的未婚夫。”

She said to Grace, “He says he’s your fiancé.”

“告诉他这儿的事还没完。”尼尔说，“不，跟他说我们已经走了。”

“Tell him she’s not ready yet,” Neil said. “No. Tell him we’ve already gone.”

“我已经说了你们在这儿呢。”

“I said you were in here.”

“不过等你回来一看，”尼尔说，“我们已经走了。”

“But when you came back,” said Neil, “we were gone.”

“他说您是他哥哥。他会认不出停车场上您车子的吗？”

“He said you were his brother. Won’t he see your car in the lot?”

“我停在后院，在医生停车区那边呢。”

“I parked out back. I parked in the doctors’ lot.”

“脑子就是好使呀。”护士走时甩回来这么一句。

“Pret-ty tric-ky,” said the nurse, over her shoulder.

这时候尼尔问格雷斯：“你现在还不想回去，是吧？”

And Neil said to Grace, “You didn’t want to go home yet, did you?”

“不想。”格雷斯说，就像是检测视力时回答别人问她前面墙上是什么字似的。

“No,” said Grace, as if she’d seen the word written in front of her, on the wall. As if she was having her eyes tested.

她又一次被扶上车，只挂住前半部的凉鞋耷拉着，一屁股在奶油色的垫子上坐了下来。他们从停车场开上一条偏僻的后街，不走大路出了镇子。她知道他们是不会碰见莫里的。她用不着去想他。想梅维斯就更加用不着了。

Once more she was helped to the car, sandal flopping from the toe strap, and settled on the creamy upholstery. They took a back street out of the lot, an unfamiliar way out of the town. She knew they wouldn’t see Maury. She did not have to think of him. Still less of Mavis.

后来，在叙述这段经历，她生命中的这一变化时，格雷斯会说——她的确就那么说——仿佛有一扇门在她身后哐地关上。可是在当时可没有哐的一声——有的只是从她那里发出的一波又一波的默许，至于其他那些人的权利，那就干脆被毫不踌躇地置于脑后了。

Describing this passage, this change in her life, later on, Grace might say—she did say—that it was as if a gate had clanged shut behind her. But at the time there was no clang— acquiescence simply rippled through her, the rights of those left behind were smoothly cancelled.

她对于那一天的记忆一直都是清清楚楚、历历在目的，虽然与她有关的那些部分有着不同的版本。

Her memory of this day remained clear and detailed, though there was a variation in the parts of it she dwelt on.

但即使是在那样的一部分细节里，必定有一些是她没有记准确的。一开始，他们顺着七号公路往西开。在格雷斯的记忆里，公路上再没有第二辆车子，他们的速度与在高架路上飞行时可称不相上下。这一点不可能是真实的——路上必定是有人的，那个星期天早上回家的人，以及赶回家去与家人一起过感恩节的人，去教堂的人与从教堂回家的人。尼尔必定是会把车速减下来的，在他穿过村子或是绕过小镇的时候，以及在走上有许多弯道的老公路之后。她不习惯坐在车顶敞开的敞篷车里。风灌满了她的眼睛，控制着她的头发。那就给了她一种幻觉，似乎一直都是用同一种速度在迅疾飞行——并不疯狂，反而奇迹似的十分安详。

And even in some of those details she must have been wrong. First they drove west on Highway 7. In Grace’s recollection, there is not another car on the highway, and their speed approaches the flight on the highway overpass. This cannot have been true—there must have been people on the road, people on their way home that Sunday morning, on their way to spend Thanksgiving with their families. On their way to church or coming home from church. Neil must have slowed down when driving through villages or the edges of towns, and for the many curves on the old highway. She was not used to driving in a convertible with the top down, wind in her eyes, wind taking charge of her hair. That gave her the illusion of constant speed, perfect flight—not frantic but miraculous, serene.

虽然她脑子里没有了莫里、梅维斯和家里别的人的丝毫痕迹，但是特拉弗斯太太的一些破碎影子却仍然留了下来，在盘桓，在用耳语说着些什么，发出了诡异的、使人羞愧的轻笑，在作出她最后的那句交代。

And though Maury and Mavis and the rest of the family were wiped from her mind, some scrap of Mrs. Travers did remain, hovering, delivering in a whisper and with a strange, shamed giggle, her last message.

你当然知道是应该怎么做的。

You’ll know how to do it.

格雷斯和尼尔没有说话，这是不消说的。就她所记得的，在当时的情况下，你必须高声尖叫才能让人听清你在说些什么。老实说，她所记得的，与她当时认为“性”应该是怎么一回事的想法与幻觉，全都混淆在了一起。这样的偶然邂逅，这样的无声却强有力的信号，这样的几乎是一语不发的飞行，在这里，她或多或少把自己设想为一名女俘。一名无忧无虑的降臣，体内除了涌流着欲念以外别的什么都没有。

Grace and Neil did not talk, of course. As she remembers it, you would have had to scream to be heard. And what she remembers is, to tell the truth, hardly distinguishable from her idea, her fantasies at that time, of what sex should be like. The fortuitous meeting, the muted but powerful signals, the nearly silent flight in which she herself would figure more or less as a captive. An airy surrender, flesh nothing now but a stream of desire.

最后，他们在卡拉达停了下来，走进了一家旅馆——这家老旅馆现在还开在那里。尼尔握住她的手，手指相互交叉在一起，并放慢自己的脚步以与她一拖一拖的步子相协调。尼尔带她走进酒吧。她认出那是一家酒吧，虽然以前她从未进过酒吧。（伯莱瀑布的小旅店没有领到执照——客人要喝酒只能在自己房间里喝，或是到路对面一个自称是夜总会的破棚子里去喝。）这跟她想象中的完全一样——一间挺大的密不通风的黑屋子，匆匆打扫后胡乱摆回去的桌子椅子，一股消毒剂的气味，却去不掉啤酒、威士忌、雪茄、板烟和男人的气味。

They stopped, finally, at Kaladar, and went into the hotel— the old hotel which is still there. Taking her hand, kneading his fingers between hers, slowing his pace to match her uneven steps. Neil led her into the bar. She recognized it as a bar, though she had never been in one before. (Bailey’s Falls Inn did not yet have a license—drinking was done in people’s rooms, or in a rather ramshackle so-called nightclub across the road.) This was just as she would have expected—an airless darkened big room, with the chairs and tables put back in a careless way after a hasty cleanup, a smell of Lysol not erasing the smell of beer, whisky, cigars, pipes, men.

这儿一个人也没有——也许是下午开业的时间还未到。不过这会儿真的已经是下午了吗？她的时间观念似乎都不准了。

There was nobody there—perhaps it wasn’t open till afternoon. But might it not now be afternoon? Her idea of time seemed faulty.

这时候从另一个房间走进来一个男人，跟尼尔说起话来。他说：“你好，大夫。”接着便走到吧台的后面。

Now a man came in from another room, and spoke to Neil. He said, “Hello there, Doc,” and went behind the bar.

格雷斯相信情况总是这样的——不管他们去到哪里，总有尼尔早就认得的人。

Grace believed that it would be like this—everywhere they went, there would be somebody Neil knew already.

“你知道，今天是星期天啊。”那人用提高了的、严厉的、几乎是在大叫的声音说，好像是想让停车场那边都能听见似的，“星期天我这儿什么都不能卖给你。也没法卖给她。她甚至都不应该进到这儿来的。你明白吗？”

“You know it’s Sunday,” the man said in a raised, stern, almost shouting voice, as if he wanted to be heard out in the parking lot. “I can’t sell you anything in here on a Sunday. And I can’t sell anything to her, ever. She shouldn’t even be in here. You understand that?”

“哦，是的，先生。的确不错，先生。”尼尔说，“我完全同意，先生。”

“Oh yes, sir. Yes indeed, sir,” said Neil. “I heartily agree, sir.”

两个男人说着话，酒吧后面的那人从一个隐藏的架子上取出一瓶威士忌，往一只玻璃杯里倒了一些，朝柜台对面的尼尔跟前推去。

While both men were talking, the man behind the bar had taken a bottle of whisky from a hidden shelf and poured some into a glass and shoved it to Neil across the counter.

“你渴了吧？”他对格雷斯说，已经在打开一瓶可口可乐了。他递给她，干脆连杯子都不提供了。

“You thirsty?” he said to Grace. He was already opening a Coke. He gave it to her without a glass.

尼尔在柜台上放了张钞票，那人把钱推到一边去。

Neil put a bill on the counter and the man shoved it away.

“跟你说过了，”他说，“不能卖。”

“I told you,” he said. “Can’t sell.”

“可口可乐呢？”

“What about the Coke?” said Neil.

“也不能卖的。”

“Can’t sell.”

那人把酒瓶收好，尼尔非常快就把杯子里剩下的喝空。“你是好人哪，”他说，“遵纪守法的模范呀。”

The man put the bottle away, Neil drank what was in the glass very quickly. “You’re a good man,” he said. “Spirit of the law.”

“把可乐带走。她越快离开这里我心里越是踏实。”

“Take the Coke along with you. Sooner she’s out of here the happier I’ll be.”

“那是，”尼尔说，“她是个好姑娘。我的弟妹，未来的。据我所知。”

“You bet,” Neil said. “She’s a good girl. My sister-in-law. Future sister-in-law. So I understand.”

“这是真话？”

“Is that the truth?”

他们没有重上七号公路，相反却上了往北去的路。这儿连路面都没有铺，不过却是够宽阔的，相当平坦。酒喝下去对尼尔的驾驶却似乎起了相反的作用。他降低了速度，以与路况相配称，甚至到了小心翼翼的地步。

They didn’t go back to Highway 7. Instead they took the road north, which was not paved, but wide enough and decently graded. The drink seemed to have had the opposite effect to what drinks were supposed to have on Neil’s driving. He had slowed down to the seemly, even cautious, rate this road required.

“你不在乎吗？”

“You don’t mind?” he said.

格雷斯说：“在乎什么？”

Grace said, “Mind what?”

“把你拉到某个破破烂烂的地方。”

“Being dragged into any old place.”

“不在乎。”

“No.”

“我需要你做伴。你的脚怎么样？”

“I need your company. How’s your foot?”

“没什么事了。”

“It’s fine.”

“还是有点儿疼的吧。”

“It must hurt some.”

“不厉害。没事了。”

“Not really. It’s okay.”

他握起她没拿可乐瓶的那只手，将掌心压在自己的嘴唇上，舔了舔，然后又松开。

He picked up the hand that was not holding the Coke bottle, pressed the palm of it to his mouth, gave it a lick, and let it drop.

“你是不是认为我是出于堕落的目的而诱拐你？”

“Did you think I was abducting you for fell purposes?”

“没有啊。”格雷斯违心地说，她想他用词怎么都跟他母亲一个路子的呢。堕落。

“No,” lied Grace, thinking how like his mother that word was. Fell.

“你这样说用在别的时候也许会是对的，”他说，仿佛她方才是回答了“是的”，“不过今天却不对。我觉得不对。今天你安全得跟座教堂似的。”

“There was a time when you would have been right,” he said, just as if she had answered yes. “But not today. I don’t think so. You’re safe as a church today.”

他的声调起了变化，现在成了亲切、坦诚和轻声轻气的了，方才他的嘴唇压在、接着他的舌头舔在她皮肤上的感觉，在相当程度上撼动着格雷斯，使得她听到的不是他在说着的那个内容，而是他的声音本身。她能觉出他的舌头一百次、几百次地在她全身的皮肤上移动，在那里跳着祈求之舞。可是她光是回答了一句：“教堂也并不总是安全的。”

The changed tone of his voice, which had become intimate, frank, and quiet, and the memory of his lips pressed to, then his tongue flicked across, her skin, affected Grace to such an extent that she was hearing the words, but not the sense, of what he was telling her. She could feel a hundred, hundreds of flicks of his tongue, a dance of supplication, all over her skin. But she thought to say, “Churches aren’t always safe.”

“不错。不错。”

“True. True.”

“而且我也不是你的弟妹。”

“And I’m not your sister-in-law.”

“未来的。我没说是未来的吗？”

“Future. Didn’t I say future?”

“我连那也不是的。”

“I’m not that either.”

“哦。是吧。我想我也觉得不一定是的。是的。什么都是有可能的。”

“Oh. Well. I guess I’m not surprised. No. Not surprised.”

此时，他的声调又变了，变得公事公办了。

Then his voice changed again, became businesslike.

“我在找一个需要拐弯的地方，是往右拐。这儿有一条路我想我是应该认识的。这一带你不熟悉吗？”

“I’m looking for a turnoff up here, to the right. There’s a road I ought to recognize. Do you know this country at all?”

“不，这一带不熟。”

“Not around here, no.”

“那你知道弗劳尔车站吗？翁帕、波兰呢？斯诺路认得不？”

“Don’t know Flower Station? Oompah, Poland? Snow Road?”

这些地方她连听都没有听说过。

She had not heard of them.

“我想去找一个人。”

“There’s somebody I want to see.”

车子往右拐了一下，他嘴里嘟哝了几句，仿佛有点拿不定主意。见不到有什么路牌。路更窄也更难走了，有座桥竟是只能开过去一辆车的木板桥。阔叶树林的浓叶在他们头顶上织成了网。今年天气不正常，凉得迟，叶子还未变色，树枝都仍然是翠绿翠绿的，只除了这儿那儿偶尔有片红色黄色在一闪一闪，像面旗子似的。周围有一种身处圣殿的气氛。走了好几里路尼尔和格雷斯都没有说话，而树林也未曾显出要中断的迹象，简直是无穷无尽了。不过此时尼尔打破了沉寂。

A turn was made, to the right, with some dubious mutterings on his part. There were no signs. This road was narrower and rougher, with a one-lane plank-floored bridge. The trees of the hardwood forest laced their branches overhead. The leaves were late to turn this year because of the strangely warm weather, so these branches were still green, except for the odd one here and there that flashed out like a banner. There was a feeling of sanctuary. For miles Neil and Grace were quiet, and there was still no break in the trees, no end to the forest. But then Neil broke the peace.

他说：“你会开车吗？”格雷斯说她不会。他便说：“那你应该学学。”

He said, “Can you drive?” and when Grace said no, he said, “I think you should learn.”

他的意思是，当下就学。他停下车，走出来，绕到她的身边，于是她只好移身到方向盘后面去了。

He meant, right then. He stopped the car, got out and came around to her side, and she had to move behind the wheel.

“学车再没有比这更好的地方了。”

“No better place than this.”

“有车呀什么的来了怎么办？”

“What if something comes?”

“不会有的。来了也总有办法的。所以我才选了这段直路。你不用发愁，只要会用右脚控制就行了。”

“Nothing will. We can manage if it does. That’s why I picked a straight stretch. And don’t worry, you do all the work with your right foot.”

他们正处在一条树枝交拱的长隧道的开端处，地面上散落着一片片的阳光。他根本没费心去讲解汽车开动的原理——他只是简单地指示她的脚应该放在何处，让她练了练怎样换挡，接着便说：“现在往前开吧，照我说的去做就行了。”

They were at the beginning of a long tunnel under the trees, the ground splashed with sunlight. He did not bother explaining anything about how cars ran—he simply showed her where to put her foot, and made her practice shifting the gears, then said, “Now go, and do what I tell you.”

汽车的初次往前一冲让她吓了一跳。她练了练换挡，以为他的授课到此应该告一结束了吧，可是他只是笑笑。他说：“不错，放松些。放松些。继续往前开呀。”她也真的照着做了。他没指斥她操纵得不好，也没怪她光顾转方向盘忘了踩油门，仅仅是说：“继续往前，往前走，别离开路，别让引擎熄火。”

The first leap of the car terrified her. She ground the gears, and she thought he would put an end to the lesson immediately, but he laughed. He said, “Whoa, easy. Easy. Keep going,” and she did. He did not comment on her steering, or the way the steering made her forget about the accelerator, except to say, “Keep going, keep going, keep on the road, don’t let the engine die.”

“我什么时候可以停下来呀？”她说。

“When can I stop?” she said.

“还没教你怎么停，你就先别停。”

“Not till I tell you how.”

他让她一直往前开直到走出隧道，这才教她怎样刹车。车子一停，她就打开车门好与他对换位置，可是他说：“不。这不过是让你歇口气。你很快就会喜欢上开车的。”他们重新启动时，她开始发现他说得还真对。而就是这一瞬间的得意，差点儿没把他们带进沟里。不过，他在不得不抓过方向盘时还在不停地笑着，他们的课程在继续往下进行。

He made her keep driving until they came out of the tunnel, and then instructed her about the brake. As soon as she had stopped she opened the door so that they could trade sides, but he said, “No. This is just a breather. Soon you’ll be getting to like it.” And when they started again she began to see that he might be right. Her momentary surge of confidence almost took them into the ditch. Still, he laughed when he had to grab the wheel, and the lesson continued.

他们像是都走了有好几英里了，他仍然不让她撒手，虽然这过程中还走了——当然是速度极慢——好几个弯道。这时候他说他们还是换过来吧，因为不是自己开车他便失去了方向感。

He did not let her stop until they had driven for what seemed miles, and even gone—slowly—around several curves. Then he said they had better switch, because he could not get a feeling of direction unless he was driving.

他问她感觉如何，她虽然全身都在发抖，却仍然说：“挺好。”

He asked how she felt now, and though she was shaking all over, she said, “Okay.”

他帮她揉搓，从肩膀一直搓到肘弯，说了句：“撒谎。”但是除此以外，再也没有抚触她，也没有再让她身上的任何一个部分感觉到他嘴唇的接触。

He rubbed her arm from shoulder to elbow and said, “What a liar.” But he did not touch her, beyond that, did not let any part of her feel his mouth again.

又开了几英里之后，他必定是找回他的方向感了，因为来到一个十字路口时他往左拐了，这儿的树木逐渐变稀，他们顺着一条烂路爬上一个长长的土坡，又走了几英里来到一个村庄——至少可以说是路边的一小组房子吧。一座教堂和一家店铺，看来都已经改变了原来的功能，没准都住进人家了——从周围停的车子和窗上挂的寒酸相的布帘可以看出来。另外几所房屋的情况也大致相似，其中一所后面的一座谷仓自行坍塌了，发黑的干草从断裂的桁梁之间伸出来，像是肿胀的内脏。

He must have got the feeling of direction back some miles on when they came to a crossroads, for he turned left, and the trees thinned out and they climbed a rough road up a long hill, and after a few miles they came to a village, or at least a roadside collection of buildings. A church and a store, neither of them open to serve their original purposes, but probably lived in, to judge by vehicles around them and the sorry-looking curtains in the windows. A couple of houses in the same state and behind one of them a barn that had fallen in on itself, with old dark hay bulging out between its cracked beams like swollen innards.

看到这片景色，尼尔欢呼了起来，不过却没在这里停下车。

Neil exclaimed in celebration at the sight of this place, but did not stop there.

“真舒心啊，”他说，“真——让人——感到——舒心呀。现在我算是明白了。还得谢谢你呀。”

“What a relief,” he said. “What—a—relief. Now I know. Thank you.”

“谢谢我？”

“Me?”

“因为你让我教你开车。这让我神经松弛了下来。”

“For letting me teach you to drive. It calmed me down.”

“让你神经松弛？”格雷斯说，“真的吗？”

“Calmed you down?” said Grace. “Really?”

“真得不能再真了。”尼尔微笑了，不过却没有看她。他正忙着左左右右地张望出村之后的路边田野。他在自言自语。

“True as I live.” Neil was smiling, but did not look at her. He was busy looking from side to side across the fields that lay along the road after it had passed through the village. He was talking as if to himself.

“就是这儿了。不会错的。现在我们清楚了。”

“This is it. Got to be it. Now we know.”

就这么地嘟哝着，直到他拐上了一条巷子。这巷子不是直直的，而是扭来扭去绕过了一片田地，躲开了岩石和一片刺柏，巷子尽头处有一座房屋，样子比村里的那些好不到哪里去。

And so on, till he turned onto a lane that didn’t go straight but wound around through a field, avoiding rocks and patches of juniper. At the end of the lane was a house in no better shape than the houses in the village.

“好了，就是这儿，”他说，“这地方我就不带你进去了。五分钟不到我就出来。”

“Now, this place,” he said, “this place I am not going to take you in. I won’t be five minutes.”

他待的时间可远远不止五分钟。

He was longer than that.

她坐在车子里，倒是有屋子挡着太阳。屋门大开，只有纱门关着。纱门上打了补丁，新些的铁纱和旧的编在一起。没有人出来看她，连条狗都没来探头探脑。现在汽车熄了火，长日里充斥着一种异乎寻常的寂静。说它异乎寻常，是因为你总觉得在炎热的下午应该是不缺在草丛里、刺柏丛里发出的各种昆虫的嗡嗡唧唧声的。即使你在任何地方都见不到它们，它们的喧闹声也总会从远到天边的任何草木丛间发出来。不过也许是时节已经太迟，说不定迟得连大雁南飞引吭高鸣的声音都已无法听到了。至少她什么都没有听到。

She sat in the car, in the house’s shade. The door to the house was open, just the screen door closed. The screen had mended patches in it, newer wire woven in with the old. Nobody came to look at her, not even a dog. And now that the car had stopped, the day filled up with an unnatural silence. Unnatural because you would expect such a hot afternoon to be full of the buzzing and humming and chirping of insects in the grass, in the juniper bushes. Even if you couldn’t see them anywhere, their noise would seem to rise out of everything growing on the earth, as far as the horizon. But it was too late in the year, maybe too late even to hear geese honking as they flew south. At any rate, she didn’t hear any.

在这儿，他们像是处在世界的巅峰，至少是巅峰之一吧。四边的田野都向低处倾斜，树木只能看到上端，因为它们都长在比较低洼之处。

It seemed they were up on top of the world here, or on one of the tops. The field fell away on all sides, the trees around being only partly visible because they grew on lower ground.

他认识这里的什么人呢，住在里面的又能是谁呢？一个女人吗？他需要的女人似乎不大可能住在这样一个地方，可是今天格雷斯遇到的怪事就是层出不穷，简直是没完没了。

Who did he know here, who lived in this house? A woman? It didn’t seem possible that the sort of woman he would want could live in a place like this, but there was no end to the strangeness Grace could encounter today. No end to it.

这儿原来是座砖房，可是不知是谁把外面那层砖拆掉了，里面的木板墙露了出来。拆下的砖头胡乱堆在院子里，像是等着出让似的。房子墙上还留着两道砖没拆，形成了一道对角线，像个楼梯，格雷斯无事可做，便把椅背放低，身子往后靠，好数清楼梯有多少级。这事她做得挺傻的，却还很认真，就跟一个人在从一朵花上揪下花瓣似的，就剩下没有公然这样喃喃自语了：他爱我，他不爱我。

Once this had been a brick house, but someone had begun to take the brick walls down. Plain wooden walls had been bared, underneath, and the bricks that had covered them were roughly piled in the yard, maybe waiting to be sold. The bricks left on this wall of the house formed a diagonal line, stairsteps, and Grace, with nothing to do, leaned back, pushed her seat back, in order to count them. She did this both foolishly and seriously, the way you could pull petals off a flower, but not with any words so blatant as He loves me, he loves me not.

走运。背运。走运。背运。其实这才是她想猜度的。

Lucky. Not. Lucky. Not. That was all she dared.

她发现很难辨清这行成锯齿形的砖头到底有多少排，因为来到门的上方那儿，线条就变平了。

She found that it was hard to keep track of bricks arranged in this zigzag fashion, especially since the line flattened out above the door.

她想通了。这儿还能是什么地方？一个私酒贩子的窝呗。她想起了老家的那个私酒贩子——一个颤颤巍巍、瘦得只剩皮包骨的老头，脾气阴郁而且多疑。万圣节的晚上，他竟会手持一把霰弹枪坐在自家门口台阶上。而且还会在堆在门口的柴火垛上做上记号，好察知有没有被偷。她想象着他——或者是此处的这一个——坐着打盹，在自己肮脏的却什么物件搁在哪儿全一清二楚的房间里（她知道情况必然是这样的，从纱门的修补上就可以判定）。想象着他从他那张嘎吱作响的小床或躺椅上爬起来，翻开那条脏兮兮的被子，那还是多年前某个女亲戚帮他绗的，那女的死了都有很久了。

She knew. What else could this be? A bootlegger’s place. She thought of the bootlegger at home—a raddled, skinny old man, morose and suspicious. He sat on his front step with a shotgun on Halloween night. And he painted numbers on the sticks of firewood stacked by his door so he’d know if any were stolen. She thought of him—or this one—dozing in the heat in his dirty but tidy room (she knew it would be that way by the mended patches in the screen). Getting up from his creaky cot or couch, with the stained quilt on it that some woman relative of his, some woman now dead, had made long ago.

她倒是没进过走私贩子的家，可是在老家那边，日子过得紧巴巴但受人尊敬的门户，和声名不怎么好的人家，彼此的生活状况也就是隔着层薄薄的板吧。因此她是想象得出的。

Not that she had ever been inside a bootlegger’s house, but the partitions were thin, at home, between some threadbare ways of living that were respectable, and some that were not. She knew how things were.

她竟会想到要跟莫里结婚，这不是莫名其妙吗。这简直就是一种背叛。一种对自己的背叛。可是和尼尔一起坐车出游却并不是背叛，因为对于她熟悉的一些事，他也是有所了解的。而随着时间的过去，她对于他，也是了解得越来越透彻了。

How strange that she’d thought of marrying Maury. A kind of treachery it would be. A treachery to herself. But not a treachery to be riding with Neil, because he knew some of the same things she did. And she knew more and more, all the time, about him.

现在，在门口那里，她似乎都能见到是她的舅公在那里站着，弓着背，一脸的迷茫，在对着她看，好像她出门都有好多年了。似乎她答应过要回去的但是又把这事忘了，在这段时间里他早就该故去了，可是却并没有死。

And now in the doorway it seemed that she could see her uncle, stooped and baffled, looking out at her, as if she had been away for years and years. As if she had promised to go home and then she had forgotten about it, and in all this time he should have died but he hadn’t.

她挣扎着要跟他说话，可是他不见了。她一点点醒了，移动了一下身子。她是和尼尔一起坐在车子里，他们又上路了。她睡着时是张着嘴的，口里干得很。他转过头来看了她片刻，她注意到，虽然身边车风阵阵，却新添了一股威士忌的气味。

She struggled to speak to him, but he was lost. She was waking up, moving. She was in the car with Neil, on the road again. She had been asleep with her mouth open and she was thirsty. He turned to her for a moment, and she noticed, even with the wind that they made blowing round them, a fresh smell of whisky.

不出所料。

It was true.

“你醒了吧？我从屋子里出来时你睡得可香了，”他说，“真对不起——都是熟人，我不好意思马上就离开。你膀胱那里胀不胀？”

“You awake? You were fast asleep when I came out of there,” he said. “Sorry—I had to be sociable for a while. How’s your bladder?”

事实上，这个问题她早就想解决了，在车子刚在房子前面停下来的时候。她当时瞥见左近有一处户外的茅房，但是不好意思下车往那边走去。

That was a problem she had been thinking about, in fact, when they were stopped at the house. She had seen a toilet back there, beyond the house, but had felt shy about getting out and walking to it.

他说：“这地方看来挺合适。”他把车子停了下来。她走出车子，朝一些盛开的野花和乱草窠里走去，蹲了下来。他站在路那边的野花丛里，背对着她。她走回来爬上车时，看了看她脚边地板上的那只瓶子，发现里面盛的液体已经少了三分之一。

He said, “This looks like a possible place,” and stopped the car. She got out and walked in amongst some blooming golden-rod and Queen Anne’s lace and wild aster, to squat down. He stood in such flowers on the other side of the road, with his back to her. When she got back into the car she saw the bottle on the floor beside her feet. More than a third of its contents seemed already to be gone.

他注意到了她的眼光。

He saw her looking.

“哦，不必担心，”他说，“我只是把里面的一些倒到这儿罢了。”他举起一只扁瓶，“边开车边喝方便些。”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said. “I just poured some in here.” He held up a flask. “Easier when I’m driving.”

地板上还有另一瓶可口可乐。他告诉她储物箱里就有开瓶器。

On the floor there was also another Coca-Cola. He told her to look in the glove compartment and find the bottle opener.

“挺凉的嘛。”她惊讶地说。

“It’s cold,” she said in surprise.

“有冰箱。他们冬天把湖里的冰锯开，起出来，贮藏在锯木屑里。这个人是存在屋子下面的地窖里的。”

“Icebox. They cut ice off the lakes in the winter and store it in sawdust. He keeps it under the house.”

“我还以为在那座房子的门口见到我舅公了呢，”她说，“不过是做了一场梦。”

“I thought I saw my uncle in the doorway of that house,” she said. “But I was dreaming.”

“你可以跟我说说你舅公的吧。说说你老家的事儿。干什么活儿的。什么都可以谈。我就是喜欢听你说话。”

“You could tell me about your uncle. Tell me about where you live. Your job. Anything. I just like to hear you talk.”

他声音里有一种新的力量，脸上也不一样了，不过那完全不是酒醉后的奇异光彩。那只不过是：他方才好像是身体不舒服——不是说病得有多厉害，只不过是打不起精神来，在这样的天气状况下——而现在则是想让你确信他已经好得多了。他拧上小扁瓶的盖子，放下扁瓶，把手伸出去抓住她的手。他轻轻地握着，那是一种伙伴式的感情。

There was a new strength in his voice, and a change in his face, but it wasn’t any manic glow of drunkenness. It was just as if he’d been sick—not terribly sick, just down, under the weather—and was now wanting to assure you he was better. He capped the flask and laid it down and reached for her hand. He held it lightly, a comrade’s clasp.

“他很老了，”格雷斯说，“是我妈妈的舅父。他是个编织工——就是说能用藤编成椅子。我说不清楚，不过你要是有椅子要编，我可以做给你看——”

“He’s quite old,” said Grace. “He’s really my great-uncle. He’s a caner—that means he canes chairs. I can’t explain that to you, but I could show you if we had a chair to cane—”

“我可没有这样的椅子。”

“I don’t see one.”

她笑起来，说道：“这活儿挺单调的，真的。”

She laughed, and said, “It’s boring, really.”

“那告诉我你对什么感兴趣。对什么呢？”

“Tell me about what interests you, then. What interests you?”

她说：“对你呀。”

She said, “You do.”

“哦。我又有什么事让你感兴趣呢？”他挪开了手。

“Oh. What interests you about me?” His hand slid away.

“你这会儿正在做着的事，”格雷斯决断地说，“是为了什么。”

“What you’re doing now,” said Grace determinedly. “Why.”

“你指的是喝酒？我为什么要喝酒？”扁瓶的盖子又拧开了，“你为什么不问我呢？”

“You mean drinking? Why I’m drinking?” The cap came off the flask again. “Why don’t you ask me?”

“因为我知道你会说什么的。”

“Because I know what you’d say.”

“说什么？我会说什么？”

“What’s that? What would I say?”

“你会说，那还有什么别的可干呢？反正是这一类的话。”

“You’d say, what else is there to do? Or something like that.”

“这倒不假，”他说，“我的确是会这样说的。接下去你就会使劲儿劝我别这么干，这样又有什么不好。”

“That’s true,” he said. “That’s about what I’d say. Well, then you’d try to tell me why I was wrong.”

“不，”格雷斯说，“不。我不会的。”

“No,” said Grace. “No. I wouldn’t.”

这话她一说出口，就觉得身上发冷。她原来以为自己是很严肃的，现在她明白了，自己其实是想用这些回答来打动他，使他觉得她跟自己一样，也是个大俗人。可是在对话的过程中，她接触到了本质性的真实。这样缺乏希望——真正彻底、并非没有道理、永远也不会有所改变地缺乏希望。

When she’d said that, she felt cold. She had thought she was serious, but now she saw that she’d been trying to impress him with these answers, trying to show herself as worldly as he was, and in the middle of that she had come on this rock-bottom truth. This lack of hope—genuine, reasonable, and everlasting.

尼尔说：“你不会吗？是啊。你不会。这倒是让人感到轻松的事。你让人感到轻松，格雷斯。”

Neil said, “You wouldn’t? No. You wouldn’t. That’s a relief. You are a relief, Grace.”

过了一会儿，他说：“你知道吧——我困了。很快我们就能找到一个好地方，我打算停车打个瞌睡。就眯一小会儿。你不介意吧？”

In a while, he said, “You know—I’m sleepy. Soon as we find a good spot I’m going to pull over and go to sleep. Just for a little while. You don’t mind that?”

“不介意。我想你也应该睡会儿了。”

“No. I think you should.”

“你照看我一会儿？”

“You’ll watch over me?”

“可以啊。”

“Yes.”

“那好。”

“Good.”

他挑中的地方是一个叫福郡的小镇。镇郊河边有个公园，还有片砾石地的停车场。他把椅背放低，立刻就睡着了。夜晚随着也来到了，差不多是吃晚饭的时候了，天凉下来了，说明季节毕竟不再是夏天。不多久之前还有人在这里举行过感恩节野餐会——野营篝火处仍然缭绕着一丝青烟呢，空气里还飘有烤汉堡包的气味呢。这气味并没有真的让格雷斯感到肚子饿了——倒是让她记起了别的环境下挨饿的情况。

The spot he found was in a little town called Fortune. There was a park on the outskirts, beside a river, and a gravelled space for cars. He settled the seat back, and at once fell asleep. Evening had come on as it did now, around suppertime, proving that this wasn’t a summer day after all. A short while ago people had been having a Thanksgiving picnic here—there was still some smoke rising from the outdoor fireplace, and a smell of hamburgers in the air. The smell did not make Grace hungry, exactly—it made her remember being hungry in other circumstances.

他立刻就睡着了。她下了车。方才学车时，车子开开停停，使她身上落了不少土。她在一处野营水管前尽可能地洗了洗她的胳膊、双手和脸。接着，为了保护自己受伤的脚，她慢慢地拖着步子走到河边，看到水并不深，还有芦苇冒出水面。水边立着一个警告牌，说是此处不得使用亵渎、污猥或是粗俗的语言，否则定当严惩不贷。

He went to sleep immediately, and she got out. Some dust had settled on her with all the stopping and starting of her driving lesson. She washed her arms and hands and her face as well as she could at an outdoor tap. Then, favoring her cut foot, she walked slowly to the edge of the river, saw how shallow it was, with reeds breaking the surface. A sign there warned that profanity, obscenity, or vulgar language was forbidden in this place and would be punished.

她试着玩朝向西边的秋千。在把自己荡得高高的时候，她遥看那清澈的天空——变暗的绿色、变淡的金色，以及天边那一抹粉红色的晚霞。空气已经变得越来越凉了。

She tried the swings, which faced west. Pumping herself high, she looked into the clear sky—faint green, fading gold, a fierce pink rim at the horizon. Already the air was getting cold.

她原以为那是接触的关系。嘴唇、舌头、皮肤、身体，还有骨骼上的碰撞。是燃烧。是激情。可是对于他们来说却完全不是这么一回事。就她此刻对他的所知，对他所了解的深度而言，那根本就是一场儿戏。

She’d thought it was touch. Mouths, tongues, skin, bodies, banging bone on bone. Inflammation. Passion. But that wasn’t what had been meant for them at all. That was child’s play, compared to how she knew him, how far she’d seen into him, now.

她所见到的是一个终结。就如同她是站在伸向远处——以及更远处的一片深黑死水的边缘似的。冰冷、毫无波澜的水。望着这样冰冷死寂发黑的水，她知道所有的一切也就是这么一回事了。

What she had seen was final. As if she was at the edge of a flat dark body of water that stretched on and on. Cold, level water. Looking out at such dark, cold, level water, and knowing it was all there was.

该责怪的并不是喝酒的事。那同样的结果是在等待着，不论情况如何，不管是什么时候。喝酒，有瘾想喝酒——那不过是分散注意力的某种方法罢了，跟别的方法没有什么两样。

It wasn’t the drinking that was responsible. The same thing was waiting, no matter what, and all the time. Drinking, needing to drink—that was just some sort of distraction, like everything else.

她走回到汽车跟前，想叫醒他。他动了一下，但是却醒不过来。她只好再在近处走走，好让自己暖和一些，而且还用脚做了些最简单的练习动作——此刻她想起来，明天早上自己还得再去上班，再去给别人端早餐。

She went back to the car and tried to wake him up. He stirred but wouldn’t waken. So she walked around again to keep warm, and to practice the easiest way with her foot—she understood now that she would be working again, serving breakfast, in the morning.

她又作了次努力，急急地跟他说话。他嘟嘟哝哝应答说好的好的，可接着又睡着了。到此时，天已经完全黑下来了，她也放弃希望了。此刻，夜寒使她意识到必须另外打主意了。他们不能留在这里，他们毕竟还活在这个世界上。她必须得回到伯莱瀑布去。

She tried once more, talking to him urgently. He answered with various promises and mutters, and once more he fell asleep. By the time it was really dark she had given up. Now with the cold of night settled in some other facts became clear to her. That they could not remain here, that they were still in the world after all. That she had to get back to Bailey’s Falls.

她费了好大的劲儿又是推又是拽，才把他弄到旁边的座位上去。就这样都没能弄醒他，很明显他一时半刻醒不过来了。她花了好一会儿才弄明白怎样才能开亮车前的灯，接着她发动车子，一颠一跳地，慢腾腾地，回到了路上。

With some difficulty she got him over into the passenger seat. If that did not wake him, it was clear nothing could. She took a while to figure out how the headlights went on, and then she began to move the car, jerkily, slowly, back onto the road.

她一点都不知道该往哪个方向开，街上也无人可问。她仅仅是不断地朝镇的另一头开过去，到了那边，总算是谢天谢地见到了一块路牌，除了标明别的一些地方之外，也指明了伯莱瀑布的方向。只有九英里远。

She had no idea of directions, and there was not a soul on the street to ask. She just kept driving to the other side of the town, and there, most blessedly, there was a sign pointing the way to Bailey’s Falls, among other places. Only nine miles.

她用从未超过三十英里的时速开在一条两车道的公路上。来往的车子不多。有一两回，后面的车子按响着喇叭超越了她，迎面而来为数不多的几辆也按响了喇叭。前者是因为她速度太慢，后者则是因为她不懂应该变暗灯光。不过这不重要。她开在半路上反正也不能停下来给自己打气。因此她只能继续往前开，像他对她说过的那样。只管往前开。

She drove along the two-lane highway at never more than thirty miles an hour. There was little traffic. Once or twice a car passed her, honking, and the few she met honked also. In one case it was probably because she was going so slowly, and in the other, because she did not know how to dim the lights. Never mind. She couldn’t stop to get her courage up again in the middle of the road. She could just keep going, as he had said. Keep going.

起先，她没认出来已经到了伯莱瀑布，因为走的是一条她不熟悉的路。等她明白过来了，她比开全部九英里路程时还要紧张。在陌生的地方开车是一回事，可是拐到小旅馆大门里去又是另外的一回事。

At first she did not recognize Bailey’s Falls, coming upon it in this unfamiliar way. When she did, she became more frightened than she had been in all the nine miles. It was one thing to drive in unknown territory, another to turn in at the inn gates.

她在停车场停下时他倒醒过来了。对于他们来到什么地方，她又是怎么做成的，他一点都没显得吃惊。他告诉她，事实上，是几英里以前的喇叭声把他吵醒的，不过他仍然假装睡着，因为重要的是千万别吓着了她。他知道她是能行的。

He was awake when she got stopped in the parking lot. He didn’t show any surprise at where they were, or at what she had done. In fact, he told her, the honking had wakened him, miles back, but he had pretended to be still asleep, because the important thing was not to startle her. He hadn’t been worried, though. He knew she would make it.

她问，他现在是不是足够清醒，可以开车了。

She asked if he was awake enough to drive now.

“清醒得很，倍儿清楚，就跟一枚崭新的一元硬币一样。”

“Wide-awake. Bright as a dollar.”

他让她甩脱凉鞋把脚伸出来，这儿那儿地摸了摸，捏了捏，说：“很好。没有发热，也没有肿。你的胳膊也不酸疼吧？大概不至于吧。”他送她走到门口，感谢她的陪伴。她仍然不敢相信能够安全返回。昏昏然都忘了该说声再会了。

He told her to slip her foot out of its sandal, and he felt and pressed it here and there before saying, “Nice. No heat. No swelling. Your arm hurt? Maybe it won’t.” He walked her to the door, and thanked her for her company. She was still amazed to be safely back. She hardly realized it was time to say good-bye.

事实上，她直到今天仍然记不起来她说了再见的话没有，还是他只是抱住了她，将她拥在双臂里——抱得那么紧，那么持久，转换着压紧着她的部位，似乎只有两只胳膊已经不够用了，她为他围裹着，他的身体既强壮又很灵巧，同一时间里既是在索求又是在施予，仿佛是在告诉她，她放弃他是错误的，一切都是可能的，可是接着又说她没有错，他不过是想要在她身上留下自己的印记，然后就要走开的。

As a matter of fact she does not know to this day if those words were spoken, or if he only caught her, wound his arms around her, held her so tightly, with such continual, changing pressures that it seemed more than two arms were needed, that she was surrounded by him, his body strong and light, demanding and renouncing all at once, as if he was telling her she was wrong to give up on him, everything was possible, but then again that she was not wrong, he meant to stamp himself on her and go.

早上天还没怎么亮，经理就来敲单身宿舍的门，喊叫格雷斯。

Early in the morning, the manager knocked on the dormitory door, calling for Grace.

“有人打来电话，”他说，“你不用起来，他们只想知道你在这儿不在。我说我上来看看。就这么件事。”

“Somebody on the phone,” he said. “Don’t bother, they just wanted to know if you were here. I said I’d go and check. Okay now.”

必定是莫里，她想。至少是他们家里的什么人。不过最有可能的还是莫里。现在她得想法子去跟莫里解释了。

It would be Maury, she thought. One of them, anyway. But probably Maury. Now she’d have to deal with Maury.

在她下楼去负责端早餐时——她只能穿帆布跑鞋了——她听说了那场事故。一辆汽车在去小塞博湖的半路上撞上了桥墩。是对直了撞上去的，车全毁了而且烧了起来。跟别的车子无关，里面显然没有别的乘客。只好根据医治牙齿的档案来辨认开车者了。没准到这时候已经弄清楚了。

When she went down to serve breakfast—wearing her canvas shoes—she heard about the accident. A car had gone into a bridge abutment halfway down the road to Little Sabot Lake. It had been rammed right in, it was totally smashed and burned up. There were no other cars involved, and apparently no passengers. The driver would have to be identified by dental records. Or probably had been, by this time.

“这方式真够惨烈的，”经理说，“还不如割喉自尽呢。”

“One hell of a way,” the manager said. “Better to go and cut your throat.”

“没准就仅仅是一次交通事故，”那厨子说，他生性乐观，“也许是正好眯着了吧。”

“It could’ve been an accident,” said the cook, who had an optimistic nature. “Could’ve just fell asleep.”

“是啊。当然是可能的。”

“Yeah. Sure.”

她的胳臂一下子疼了起来，像是挨了次猛击似的。她手里的盘子几乎失去平衡，不得不用双手将它抱在胸前。

Her arm hurt now as if it had taken a wicked blow. She couldn’t balance her tray but had to carry it in front of her, using both hands.

她无须面对面跟莫里打交道了。他给她写来了一封信。

She did not have to deal with Maury face-to-face. He wrote her a letter.

只须告诉我是他让你这样做的。只须说你是不想去的。

Just say he made you do it. Just say you didn’t want to go.

她回了五个字。我自愿去的。她本想再加上一句我很抱歉，可是最终还是没有加。

She wrote back five words. I did want to go. She was going to add I’m sorry, but stopped herself.

特拉弗斯先生到小旅馆来看她了。他礼貌客套，严肃并且冷冰冰的，不过并没有表现出不友好。她看到他处在目前这样的景况下，倒更显出自己的本色了。显出他是个能负责处理问题而且能把问题解决得干净利落的人。他说他感到很悲哀，全家人都非常悲哀，认为酗酒真是件可怕的事。等特拉弗斯太太身体好一些时，他会带她出去旅行，度一次假，上暖和些的地方去。

Mr. Travers came to the inn to see her. He was polite and businesslike, firm, cool, not unkind. She saw him now in circumstances that let him come into his own. A man who could take charge, who could tidy things up. He said that it was very sad, they were all very sad, but that alcoholism was a terrible thing. When Mrs. Travers was a little better he was going to take her on a trip, a vacation, somewhere warm.

接着，他说他得走了，还有许多事情要处理呢。他和她握手告别时将一只信封放在她的手里。

Then he said that he had to be going, many things to do. As he shook her hand good-bye he put an envelope into it.

“我们都希望你能好好利用这点东西。”他说。

“We both hope you’ll make good use of this,” he said.

那是一张一千元的支票。她当时的第一反应是把它退回去或是把它撕了，即使时至今日，她有时候还会想，那样做必定很了不起。不过，她自然最终还是无法这样做。在那些日子里，这么一笔钱确实能保证她的生活可以有一个新的开端。

The cheque was for one thousand dollars. Immediately she thought of sending it back or tearing it up, and sometimes even now she thinks that would have been a grand thing to do. But in the end, of course, she was not able to do it. In those days, it was enough money to insure her a start in life.