《渺小一生》:“我的声音很单薄。”

　 “Of course,” he says. “And you don’t need to worry: you have a beautiful voice, Willem.”

“当然可以，”他说，“你不必担心，你的嗓子很棒，威廉。”

　 “It’s thin.”

“我的声音很单薄。”

　 “It’s sweet.”

“很甜美。”

　 Willem laughs, and squeezes his hand. “Tell Kit that,” he says. “He’s already freaking out.” He sighs. “How was your day?” he asks.

威廉大笑，捏紧他的手。“你去跟基特说，”他说，“他已经抓狂了。”他叹气，“你今天过得怎么样？”他问。

　 “Fine,” he says.

“还好。”他说。

　 They begin to kiss, which he still has to do with his eyes open, to remind himself that it is Willem he is kissing, not Brother Luke, and he is doing well until he remembers the first night he had come back to the apartment with Caleb, and Caleb’s pressing him against the wall, and everything that followed, and he pulls himself abruptly away from Willem, turning his face from him. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry.” He has not taken off his clothes tonight, and now he pulls his sleeves down over his hands. Beside him, Willem waits, and into the silence, he hears himself saying, “Someone I know died yesterday.”

他们开始接吻。他还是得睁着眼睛，提醒自己吻的是威廉，不是卢克修士。他本来表现得很好，直到他想起跟凯莱布回到公寓的第一夜，凯莱布把他压在墙上，以及随之而来的一切，他忽然推开威廉，别过头去。“对不起，”他说，“对不起。”他今天晚上没脱衣服，现在他还把袖子拉下来盖住手。威廉在他旁边默默等着，然后他听到自己说：“我认识的一个人昨天死了。”

　 “Oh, Jude,” says Willem. “I’m so sorry. Who was it?”

“啊，裘德，”威廉说，“真是遗憾。是谁呢？”

　 He is silent for a long time, trying to speak the words. “Someone I was in a relationship with,” he says at last, and his tongue feels clumsy in his mouth. He can feel Willem’s focus intensify, can feel him move an inch or two closer to him.

他沉默了好久，试着说出话来。“我交往过的一个人。”最后他终于说，觉得舌头变得很笨拙。他可以感觉到威廉专心起来，感觉到他凑近了一两英寸。

　 “I didn’t know you were in a relationship,” says Willem, quietly. He clears his throat. “When?”

“我都不知道你有跟谁交往过，”威廉低声说，然后清了清嗓子，“什么时候？”

　 “When you were shooting The Odyssey,” he says, just as quietly, and again, he feels the air change. Something happened while I was away, he remembers Willem saying. Something’s wrong. He knows Willem is remembering the same conversation.

“你在拍《奥德赛》的时候。”他说，同样小声，又一度，他感觉气氛变了。我不在的时候出了一些事，他还记得威廉这么说过，是很糟糕的事。他知道威廉也记得这段对话。

　 “Well,” says Willem, after a long pause. “Tell me. Who was the lucky person?”

“好吧，”威廉沉默了好一会儿说，“告诉我吧。是谁这么幸运？”

　 He can barely breathe now, but he keeps going. “It was a man,” he begins, and although he’s not looking at Willem—he’s concentrating on the chandelier—he can feel him nod, encouragingly, willing him to continue. But he can’t; Willem will have to prompt him, and he does.

这会儿他几乎无法呼吸，但还是说下去。“是一个男人。”他开口。尽管没看威廉，专心盯着枝状吊灯，他仍可以感觉到威廉鼓励地点点头，希望他继续说。但他没办法；威廉必须催促他，也真的催了。

　 “Tell me about him,” Willem says. “How long did you go out for?”

“告诉我他的事吧，”威廉说，“你们交往了多久？”

　 “Four months,” he says.

“四个月。”他说。

　 “And why did it end?”

“那为什么结束？”

　 He thinks of how to answer this. “He didn’t like me very much,” he says at last.

他想着该如何回答。“他不是很喜欢我。”他终于说。

　 He can feel Willem’s anger before he hears it. “So he was a moron,” Willem says, his voice tight.

威廉还没开口，他就感觉到他的怒气。“那他就是笨蛋。”威廉说，声音紧绷。

　 “No,” he says. “He was a very smart guy.” He opens his mouth to say something else—what, he doesn’t know—but he can’t continue, and he shuts it, and the two of them lie there in silence.

“不，”他说，“他非常聪明。”他张开嘴巴还想说别的（要说什么，他也不知道），但就是说不下去。于是他闭上嘴巴，两个人沉默地躺在那里。

　 Finally, Willem prompts him again. “Then what happened?” he asks.

最后，威廉又催促他。“后来发生了什么事？”他问。

　 He waits, and Willem waits with him. He can hear them breathing in tandem, and it is as if they are bringing all the air from the room, from the apartment, from the world, into their lungs and then releasing it, just the two of them, all by themselves. He counts their breaths: five, ten, fifteen. At twenty, he says, “If I tell you, Willem, do you promise you won’t get mad?” and he feels Willem shift again.

他等着，威廉也陪他等。他可以听到两人的呼吸此起彼落，就好像他们把这个房间、这户公寓、这个世界的所有空气都吸进肺里又吐出来，只有他们两个，没有其他人。他数着两人的呼吸：五次，十次，十五次。到了二十次，他说：“威廉，如果我告诉你，你能保证不生气吗？”他感觉威廉又挪动了一下。