《渺小一生》:“慢跑怎么样？”

　 “It’s such a strange sensation; they feel like they’re encased in cement coffins. I can’t feel where they are in space—I can’t control them. I lift one leg up and when I put it back down, I can feel in my calf that I’ve placed the foot, but I can’t feel it in the foot itself.”

“那种感觉很奇怪：好像两脚封在水泥棺材里。我感觉不到它们的位置，也控制不了。我抬腿放下时，小腿可以感觉到我把脚放下了，但脚本身感觉不到。”

　 “Oh, Jude,” Andy said. “It’s a sign of nerve damage.” He sighed. “The good news, besides the fact that you’ve been spared it all this time, is that it’s not going to be a permanent condition. The bad news is that I can’t tell you when it’ll end, or when it might start again. And the other bad news is that the only thing we can do—besides wait—is treat it with pain medication, which I know you won’t take.” He paused. “Jude, I know you don’t like the way they make you feel,” Andy said, “but there are some better ones on the market now than when you were twenty, or even thirty. Do you want to try? At least let me give you something mild for your face: Isn’t it killing you?”

“啊，裘德，”安迪说，“这是神经损伤的征兆。”他叹了口气，“除了你多年来都没有这样过以外，好消息是，这种状况不是永久性的。坏消息是，我没办法告诉你什么时候会停止，或什么时候又会开始。另一个坏消息是，除了等待，唯一的治疗方式就是止痛药，但我知道你不想吃。”他暂停一下，“裘德，我知道你不喜欢止痛药带来的感觉，但现在已经有更好的止痛药，比三十年前、甚至二十年前都要好。你愿意试试看吗？至少让我给你开一点轻微的止痛药，让你的脸好过一点。那样不是很痛吗？”

　 “It’s not so bad,” he lied. But he did accept a prescription from Andy in the end.

“其实没那么糟。”他撒谎，但最后他还是接受了安迪开的处方。

　 “And stay off your feet,” Andy said, after he had examined his face. “And stay off the courts, too, for god’s sake.” And, as he was leaving, “And don’t think we’re not going to discuss your cutting!” because he was cutting himself more since he had begun seeing Caleb.

“另外少用脚。”安迪检查过他的脸后说，“还有老天在上，别去打网球了。”接着在他离开之前又说，“别以为我会不提你的割伤！”自从跟凯莱布交往以来，他割自己割得更凶了。

　 Back on Greene Street, he parked in the short driveway preceding the building’s garage and was fitting his key into the front door when he heard someone call his name, and then saw Caleb climbing out of his car. He was in his wheelchair, and he tried to get inside quickly. But Caleb was faster than he, and grabbed the door as it was closing, and then the two of them were in the lobby again, alone.

回到格林街，他把车停在楼下车库前的车道上，准备把钥匙插入前门时，听到后头有人喊他，回头只见凯莱布正要下车。他此时坐在轮椅上，只想赶紧进去。但凯莱布的动作比他快，趁门关上前先卡住了它，于是两个人又单独在大厅里。

　 “You shouldn’t be here,” he said to Caleb, at whom he couldn’t look.

“你不该来的。”他对凯莱布说，不肯看他。

　 “Jude, listen,” Caleb said. “I’m so sorry. I really am. I was just—it’s been a terrible time at work, everything’s such shit there—I’d have come over earlier this week, but it’s been so bad that I couldn’t even get away—and I completely took it out on you. I’m really sorry.” He crouched beside him. “Jude. Look at me.” He sighed. “I’m so sorry.” He took his face in his hands and turned it toward him. “Your poor face,” he said quietly.

“裘德，听我解释。”凯莱布说，“我很抱歉，真的。我那天实在……工作正好很不顺，一切都烂透了，就把气发在你身上。我本来想早点过来的，可是公司的状况糟到实在走不开。我真的很抱歉。”他蹲在他旁边，“裘德，看着我。”他叹气，“我真的很抱歉。”他用双手捧着他的脸，转向自己，“你可怜的脸。”他轻声说。

　 He still can’t quite understand why he let Caleb come up that night. If he is to admit it to himself, he feels there was something inevitable, even, in a small way, a relief, about Caleb’s hitting him: all along, he had been waiting for some sort of punishment for his arrogance, for thinking he could have what everyone else has, and here—at last—it was. This is what you get, said the voice inside his head. This is what you get for pretending to be someone you know you’re not, for thinking you’re as good as other people. He remembers how JB had been so terrified of Jackson, and how he had understood his fear, how he had understood how you could get trapped by another human being, how what seemed so easy—the act of walking away from them—could feel so difficult. He feels about Caleb the way he once felt about Brother Luke: someone in whom he had, rashly, entrusted himself, someone in whom he had placed such hopes, someone he hoped could save him. But even when it became clear that they would not, even when his hopes turned rancid, he was unable to disentangle himself from them, he was unable to leave. There is a sort of symmetry to his pairing with Caleb that makes sense: they are the damaged and the damager, the sliding heap of garbage and the jackal sniffing through it. They exist only to themselves—he has met no one in Caleb’s life, and he has not introduced Caleb to anyone in his. They both know that something about what they are doing is shameful. They are bound to each other by their mutual disgust and discomfort: Caleb tolerates his body, and he tolerates Caleb’s revulsion.

他还是不太明白自己那天晚上为什么让凯莱布上楼。或许他愿意向自己承认，他感觉凯莱布打他有种不可避免的成分，甚至让他小小松了一口气：他一直在等，因为他的自大、因为他居然以为自己可以拥有其他人所拥有的，他知道自己会得到某种惩罚。然后，终于来了。这就是你得到的，他脑袋里的那个声音说，谁叫你要装成你明知道自己不是的那种人，还想着你跟其他人一样好。他回想起之前杰比有多怕杰克逊，想起他当时了解杰比的恐惧，了解你可以被另一个人困住，离开那个人这么简单的动作却让你感觉非常难。他对凯莱布的感觉就跟当初对卢克修士的一样：他轻率地把自己托付给这个人，在这个人身上寄托了那么多希望，以为这个人可以救自己。即使后来他们显然救不了他，即使他的希望破灭，他还是没办法脱离他们，他就是没有办法离开。他和凯莱布在一起有种合理的对称性：他们两个是毁坏品和摧毁者，是一山垃圾和嗅着垃圾的胡狼。他们的关系只有彼此知道——他没见过凯莱布生活中的任何人，也没把凯莱布介绍给自己生活里的任何人。他们都明白彼此的关系有种可耻的成分，他们因为彼此的反感和不安而结合：凯莱布忍受他的身体，他忍受凯莱布的嫌恶。

　 He has always known that if he wanted to be with someone, he would have to make an exchange. And Caleb, he knows, is the best he will ever be able to find. At least Caleb isn’t misshapen, isn’t a sadist. Nothing being done to him now is something that hasn’t been done to him before—he reminds himself of this again and again.

他一直知道，如果自己想跟某个人在一起，就得做出某种交换。而凯莱布，他知道，是他能找到最好的对象了。至少凯莱布并不畸形，不是施虐狂。凯莱布对他所做过的事情，没有一样是他以前没碰到过的。他一再这么提醒自己，一遍又一遍。

　 One weekend at the end of September, he drives out to Caleb’s friend’s house in Bridgehampton, which Caleb is now occupying until early October. Rothko’s presentation went well, and Caleb has been more relaxed, affectionate, even. He has only hit him once more, a punch to the sternum that sent him skidding across the floor, but had apologized directly afterward. But other than that, things have been unremarkable: Caleb spends Wednesday and Thursday nights at Greene Street and then drives out to the beach on Fridays. He goes to the office early and stays late. After his success with Malpractice and Bastard, he had thought he might have a respite, even a short one, but he hasn’t—a new client, an investment firm being investigated for securities fraud, has come in, and even now, he feels guilty about skipping a Saturday at work.

九月底的一个周末，他开车到凯莱布的朋友在汉普顿桥的别墅，凯莱布会在那里待到十月初。罗思科的春装发布会非常顺利，凯莱布比较轻松了，甚至会表示关爱。他后来只打过他一次，对着他胸口打了一拳，打得他踉跄后退，但凯莱布当场就道歉了。除此之外，两人的状况好极了：周三和周四夜晚，凯莱布会在格林街过夜，然后在周五开车去汉普顿桥。他则很早去上班，工作到很晚。“弊端加混蛋”的案子结束之后，他以为自己可以松一口气，即使只是短暂的。结果没有，公司又派了一个新客户给他，是一家投资公司涉嫌证券诈欺遭到调查。即使现在，他还是会因为星期六不工作而感到罪恶。

　 His guilt aside, that Saturday is perfect, and they spend most of the day outdoors, both of them working. In the evening, Caleb grills them steaks. As he does, he sings, and he stops working to listen to him, and knows that they are both happy, and that for a moment, all of their ambivalence about each other is dust, something impermanent and weightless. That night, they go to bed early, and Caleb doesn’t make him have sex, and he sleeps deeply, better than he has in weeks.

除了他的罪恶感，那个星期六很完美，他们白天大部分时间都待在室外，两个人都在工作。傍晚凯莱布烤了牛排，边烤边唱歌，他停下来倾听，知道两人都很快乐，一时间，他们对彼此的矛盾心理都化为烟尘，短暂而毫无重量。那一夜，他们很早就去睡觉，凯莱布没要求做爱，他睡得很沉，是这几个星期来睡得最好的一夜。

　 But the next morning, he can tell even before he is fully conscious that the pain in his feet is back. It had vanished, completely and unpredictably, two weeks ago, but now it’s returned, and as he stands, he can also tell it’s gotten worse: it is as if his legs end at his ankles, and his feet are simultaneously inanimate and vividly painful. To walk, he must look down at them; he needs visual confirmation that he is lifting one, and visual confirmation that he is placing it down again.

但次日早晨，还没完全醒来，他就感觉到脚痛又回来了。两个月前，他的脚痛忽然完全消失，但现在又开始了。他站起来时，还感觉到这回的状况更糟：好像两腿只到脚踝为止，以下的两只脚底板无力而感到剧痛。走路时，他得低着头看着，确定自己抬起了一只脚，而且确实落地了。

　 He takes ten steps, but each one takes a greater and greater effort—the movement is so difficult, takes so much mental energy, that he is nauseated, and sits down again on the edge of the bed. Don’t let Caleb see you like this, he warns himself, before remembering: Caleb is out running, as he does every morning. He is alone in the house.

他走了十步，但越走越辛苦——太困难，太花心力了，他想吐，于是他又在床沿坐下。别让凯莱布看到你这样，他警告自己，然后才想到凯莱布出去慢跑了，这是他每天早上的习惯。现在屋里只有他一个人。

　 He has some time, then. He drags himself to the bathroom on his arms and into the shower. He thinks of the spare wheelchair in his car. Surely Caleb will have no objections to him getting it, especially if he can present himself as basically healthy, and this as just a small setback, a day-long inconvenience. He was planning on driving back to the city very early the next morning, but he could leave earlier if he needs to, although he would rather not—yesterday had been so nice. Maybe today can be as well.

所以他还有一点时间。他用手臂把自己拖到浴室里冲澡。他想到他放在车上备用的轮椅。凯莱布一定不会反对他坐轮椅吧，尤其是如果他可以摆出很健康的模样，这只是一个小小的倒退、只有一天的不便而已。他计划次日清晨再开车回市区，但如果必要的话，也可以提早离开。他希望不要——昨天太美好了，或许今天也会很美好。

　 He is dressed and waiting on the sofa in the living room, pretending to read a brief, when Caleb returns. He can’t tell what kind of mood he’s in, but he’s generally mild after his runs, even indulgent.

凯莱布回来时，他已经换好衣服，坐在客厅的沙发上等着，假装在读一份案情摘要。他看不出凯莱布心情如何，不过他慢跑完通常心情还不错，甚至特别宽容。

　 “I sliced some of the leftover steak,” he tells him. “Do you want me to make you eggs?”

“我切了一些剩下的牛排。”他告诉他，“要不要我帮你煎个蛋？”

　 “No, I can do it,” Caleb says.

“不必了，我自己来。”凯莱布说。

　 “How was your run?”

“慢跑怎么样？”

　 “Good. Great.”

“很好，很棒。”

　 “Caleb,” he says, trying to keep his tone light, “listen—I’ve been having this problem with my feet; it’s just some side effects from nerve damage that comes and goes, but it makes it really difficult for me to walk. Do you mind if I get the wheelchair from my car?”

“凯莱布，”他说，设法保持声音轻快，“听我说，我两只脚有点问题，只是神经受损的副作用，偶尔才会出现，不过会让我走路很困难。你介意我去拿车上的轮椅吗？”