《渺小一生》:“我想问你一个问题。”

　 “See! See, see?!” That would be Malcolm, jumping up and down and pointing at JB, while Willem laughed. On weed, Malcolm grew both sillier and more pedantic, and the three of them liked getting into silly and pedantic philosophical arguments with him, the contents of which Malcolm could never recall in the morning.

“看吧！看吧，看吧！”那应该是马尔科姆，跳起来指着杰比，同时威廉大笑。一抽了大麻，马尔科姆就会变得更傻气，也更像书呆子。这时，三个人就很喜欢争辩一些傻气且和书呆子有关的哲学话题，到了明天早上，马尔科姆什么都不会记得。

　 Then there was an interlude of Willem and JB talking about something—he was too sleepy to really listen, just awake enough to distinguish their voices—and then JB’s voice, ringing through his fug: “Jude!”

接下来，威廉和杰比聊了一下。他太困了，没真正听进去，只是半醒着，听得出是他们的声音，然后杰比的声音在闷热的空气中传来：“裘德！”

　 “What?” he answered, his eyes still closed.

“什么事？”他应了一声，眼睛还是没张开。

　 “I want to ask you a question.”

“我想问你一个问题。”

　 He could instantly feel something inside him come alert. When high, JB had the uncanny ability to ask questions or make observations that both devastated and discomfited. He didn’t think there was any malice behind it, but it made you wonder what went on in JB’s subconscious. Was this the real JB, the one who had asked their hallmate, Tricia Park, what it was like growing up as the ugly twin (poor Tricia had gotten up and run out of the room), or was it the one who, after JB had witnessed him in the grip of a terrible episode, one in which he could feel himself falling in and out of consciousness, the sensation as sickening as tumbling off a roller coaster in mid-incline, had snuck out that night with his stoner boyfriend and returned just before daybreak with a bundle of bud-furred magnolia branches, sawn off illegally from the quadrangle’s trees?

他本能地感到心底有个什么警觉起来。每次杰比抽多了大麻，就会产生一种不可思议的能力，问出或说出一些让人震惊又尴尬的话。他不认为这些话的背后有任何恶意，只不过会让你很想知道杰比的潜意识里到底藏了什么。有回他跑去问同宿舍的特里西娅·帕克，从小身为双胞胎里面比较丑的是什么样的滋味（可怜的特里西娅，听了就站起来跑出房间），这个是真正的杰比吗？或者有一回，看到他一次严重的疼痛发作之后（那回他可以感觉到自己断断续续地失去意识，整个人反胃得像从云霄飞车回旋的半途被甩下来一样），当天夜里杰比和他男朋友溜出去，在天亮前带着一把偷偷从宿舍外头方院的树上锯下来、蓓蕾还是毛茸茸的木兰树枝回来给他，这个才是真正的杰比？

　 “What?” he asked again, warily.

“什么？”他又问，小心翼翼。

　 “Well,” said JB, pausing and taking another inhalation, “we’ve all known each other a while now—”

“噢，”杰比说，又停下来吸了口大麻，“到现在，我们也认识好一段时间了……”

　 “We have?” Willem asked in fake surprise.

“是吗？”威廉假装很惊讶地问。

　 “Shut up, Willem,” JB continued. “And all of us want to know why you’ve never told us what happened to your legs.”

“闭嘴，威廉。”杰比继续说，“我们都很想知道，为什么你从不说你的腿是出了什么事。”

　 “Oh, JB, we do not—” Willem began, but Malcolm, who had the habit of vociferously taking JB’s side when stoned, interrupted him: “It really hurts our feelings, Jude. Do you not trust us?”

“啊，杰比，我们不……”威廉说，但是被马尔科姆（他总是一抽大麻就跟着杰比瞎起哄）打断，“裘德，这真的让我们很伤心。你难道不信任我们？”

　 “Jesus, Malcolm,” Willem said, and then, mimicking Malcolm in a shrieky falsetto, “ ‘It really hurts our feelings.’ You sound like a girl. It’s Jude’s business.”

“天啊，马尔科姆。”威廉说，然后尖着嗓子模仿马尔科姆，“‘这真的让我们很伤心’，你听起来活像个娘儿们。拜托，这不关我们的事。”

　 And this was worse, somehow, having to have Willem, always Willem, defend him. Against Malcolm and JB! At that moment, he hated all of them, but of course he was in no position to hate them. They were his friends, his first friends, and he understood that friendship was a series of exchanges: of affections, of time, sometimes of money, always of information. And he had no money. He had nothing to give them, he had nothing to offer. He couldn’t loan Willem a sweater, the way Willem let him borrow his, or repay Malcolm the hundred dollars he’d pressed upon him once, or even help JB on move-out day, as JB helped him.

但这样不知怎的更糟，每次总是要威廉出来保护他，对抗马尔科姆和杰比！那一刻，他恨他们三个。当然，他这样没道理。他们是他的朋友，他有生以来第一批朋友，而他了解友谊就是一连串的交换：交换关爱，交换时间，有时还会交换钱，而且总是要交换信息。他没有钱。他没有东西可以给他们，没有什么可以回报。他没有毛衣可以借给威廉，就像威廉总是借他那样；他也没办法把马尔科姆有回硬塞给他的一百元还给他；甚至在暑假前搬出宿舍时，他也没有办法帮杰比搬，就像杰比总是帮他那样。

　 “Well,” he began, and was aware of all of their perked silences, even Willem’s. “It’s not very interesting.” He kept his eyes closed, both because it made it easier to tell the story when he didn’t have to look at them, and also because he simply didn’t think he could stand it at the moment. “It was a car injury. I was fifteen. It was the year before I came here.”

“哦，”他开口了，感觉到他们三个都刻意安静下来，连威廉也不例外，“其实不是很有趣。”他眼睛仍闭着，一方面，不看他们会比较容易说出这件事；另一方面，他不认为那一刻自己有办法看他们，“那是车祸受伤。我当时15岁，就是来这里上大学的前一年。”

　 “Oh,” said JB. There was a pause; he could feel something in the room deflate, could feel how his revelation had shifted the others back into a sort of somber sobriety. “I’m sorry, bro. That sucks.”

“啊。”杰比说。大家沉默了一下，他可以感觉到整个房间像是泄了气一般，可以感觉到，他坦白了这件事之后，其他人又回到了某种黯淡的清醒之中。“我很遗憾。太糟了。”

　 “You could walk before?” asked Malcolm, as if he could not walk now. And this made him sad and embarrassed: what he considered walking, they apparently did not.

“你之前能走路？”马尔科姆问，好像他现在不能走似的。这让他觉得悲哀又难堪：他以为自己是在走路，但他们显然不这么认为。

　 “Yes,” he said, and then, because it was true, even if not the way they’d interpret it, he added, “I used to run cross-country.”

“是啊。”他说，然后补充，“我以前经常去越野赛跑的。”因为这是实话，即使他们的理解不同[3]。

　 “Oh, wow,” said Malcolm. JB made a sympathetic grunting noise.

“喔，哇。”马尔科姆说，杰比则发出同情的咕哝声。

　 Only Willem, he noticed, said nothing. But he didn’t dare open his eyes to look at his expression.

他注意到，只有威廉什么都没说。但他不敢睁开眼睛看他的表情。

　 Eventually the word got out, as he knew it would. (Perhaps people really did wonder about his legs. Tricia Park later came up to him and told him she’d always assumed he had cerebral palsy. What was he supposed to say to that?) Somehow, though, over the tellings and retellings, the explanation was changed to a car accident, and then to a drunken driving accident.

最后一如他的预料，那些话传开来了（或许人们对他的腿真的很好奇。特里西娅·帕克之后还跑来找他，说她一直以为他是脑性麻痹。他听了真不知道该说什么）。但总之，透过种种转述和再转述，他的解释变成了车祸意外，然后演变成醉酒驾驶的意外。

　 “The easiest explanations are often the right ones,” his math professor, Dr. Li, always said, and maybe the same principle applied here. Except he knew it didn’t. Math was one thing. Nothing else was that reductive.

“最简单的解释往往是正确的。”他的数学教授李博士总是这么说，或许同样的准则在这里也适用。只不过他知道不是。数学是这么一回事，但其他的事情都没办法这么简化。