《渺小一生》:他太天真了，当他缓步走回饭
“Don’t you think you should ask Jude first if I can confirm his identity?” Kit had asked him when they were deciding what he’d say to the reporter on Willem’s behalf.
“你不认为你应该先问裘德，看我可不可以证实你交往的对象是他？”基特之前曾经问他，当时他们在商量基特要代威廉跟记者说些什么。
“No, it’s fine,” he’d said. “He won’t mind.”
“不，没问题，”他说，“他不会介意的。”
Kit had been quiet. “He might, Willem.”
基特沉默了一会儿。“威廉，他可能会介意。”
But he really hadn’t thought he would. Now, though, he wondered if he had been arrogant. What, he asked himself, just because you’re okay with it, you thought he would be, too?
他原先真的不认为裘德会介意。但现在，他很怀疑自己是否太过傲慢了。他自问，怎么回事，只因为你无所谓，你就以为他也无所谓？
“Willem, I’m sorry,” Jude said, and although he knew that he should reassure Jude, who was probably feeling guilty, and apologize to him as well, he wasn’t in the mood for it, not then.
“威廉，对不起。”裘德说。他知道自己应该好言安抚，裘德大概觉得很内疚，而且自己也该道歉，但当时他实在没有心情。
“I’m going for a run,” he announced, and although he wasn’t looking at him, he could feel Jude nod.
“我要出去跑步。”他宣布。就算没看裘德，他也感觉到裘德点了头。
It was so early that outside, the city was still quiet and still cool, the air a dirtied white, with only a few cars gliding down the streets. The hotel was near the old French opera house, which he ran around, and then back to the hotel and toward the colonial-era district, past vendors squatted near large, flat, woven-bamboo baskets piled with tiny, bright green limes, and stacks of cut herbs that smelled of lemon and roses and peppercorns. As the streets grew threadlike, he slowed to a walk, and turned down an alley that was crowded with stall after stall of small, improvised restaurants, just a woman standing behind a kettle roiling with soup or oil, and four or five plastic stools on which customers sat, eating quickly before hurrying back to the mouth of the alley, where they got on their bikes and pedaled away. He stopped at the far end of the alley, waiting to let a man cycle past him, the basket strapped to the back of his seat loaded with spears of baguettes, their hot, steamed-milk fragrance filling his nostrils, and then headed down another alley, this one busy with vendors crouched over more bundles of herbs, and black hills of mangosteens, and metal trays of silvery-pink fish, so fresh that he could hear them gulping, could see their eyes rolling desperately back in their sockets. Above him, necklaces of cages were strung like lanterns, each containing a vibrant, chirping bird. He had a little cash with him, and he bought Jude one of the herb bouquets; it looked like rosemary but smelled pleasantly soapy, and although he didn’t know what it was, he thought Jude might.
现在还很早，外头的城市依然安静而凉爽，空气是一种脏白色，街道上只有少数几辆汽车掠过。他们住的饭店位于法国区的歌剧院附近，他跑过歌剧院，然后回头朝向饭店所在的殖民时代区域跑去，经过一堆蹲着的小贩，面前摆着许多扁平的大竹篮，上头放着鲜绿色的小青柠，还有一堆堆刚割下来的香草植物，闻起来有柠檬、玫瑰、胡椒的气味。街道变窄时，他放慢脚步，弯进一条巷子，里头挤满了一个个小吃摊，只有一个女人站在一个大锅后头搅拌着浓汤或油，顾客们坐在四五张塑料凳子上赶紧吃完早餐，就走出巷子，骑上自行车离开。他停在巷子的另一端，等着一名男子骑自行车经过，自行车后座绑着的篮子上装着一根根法棍，热腾腾如同蒸牛奶般的香气充满了他的鼻腔。之后，他走进另一条巷子，里面蹲满了小贩，面前摆着香草植物和一堆堆山竹，还有一盘盘装在金属盘子里银粉色的鱼，新鲜得他都能听到鱼的吸气声，看得到鱼的眼珠绝望地游移。在他上方挂着一串串灯笼般的鸟笼，每个笼子里都有一只鸟生气勃勃地鸣叫着。他身上有一点现金，便买了一把香草植物打算给裘德；那把香草看起来像迷迭香，但闻起来有种宜人的肥皂味，他不知道那是什么植物，但他觉得裘德可能知道。
He was so naïve, he thought as he made his slow way back to the hotel: about his career, about Jude. Why did he always think he knew what he was doing? Why did he think he could do whatever he wanted and everything would work out the way he imagined it? Was it a failure of creativity, or arrogance, or (as he assumed) simple stupidity? People, people he trusted and respected, were always warning him—Kit, about his career; Andy, about Jude; Jude, about himself—and yet he always ignored them. For the first time, he wondered if Kit was right, if Jude was right, if he would never work again, or at least not the kind of work he enjoyed. Would he resent Jude? He didn’t think so; he hoped not. But he had never thought he would have to find out, not really.
他太天真了，当他缓步走回饭店时心想：有关他的演员生涯，有关裘德。为什么他总是以为他知道自己在做什么？为什么他总是认为自己可以做任何想做的事，而且一切都能如他想象的那样发展？这次失败是因为创造力、傲慢，或者（一如他的假设）纯粹是因为愚蠢？很多他信赖且尊敬的人一直警告他（基特的警告关乎他的事业；安迪的警告关乎裘德；裘德的警告则是关乎他自己），然而他总是不理会。生平头一次，他纳闷基特是不是说对了，裘德是不是说对了，是不是自己永远都接不到工作了，或至少不会是他喜欢的那类工作。他会怨恨裘德吗？他不认为；他希望不会。但他从没想到，竟然真有这个可能。
But greater than that fear was the one he was rarely able to ask himself: What if the things he was making Jude do weren’t good for him after all? The day before, they had taken a shower together for the first time, and Jude had been so silent afterward, so deep inside one of his fugue states, his eyes so flat and blank, that Willem had been momentarily frightened. He hadn’t wanted to do it, but Willem had coerced him, and in the shower, Jude had been rigid and grim, and Willem had been able to tell from the set of Jude’s mouth that he was enduring it, that he was waiting for it to be over. But he hadn’t let him get out of the shower; he had made him stay. He had behaved (unintentionally, but who cared) like Caleb—he had made Jude do something he didn’t want to, and Jude had done it because he had told him to do it. “It’ll be good for you,” he’d said, and remembering this—although he had believed it—he felt almost nauseated. No one had ever trusted him as unquestioningly as Jude did. But he had no idea what he was doing.
但比这种恐惧更大的问题，是他很少有勇气问自己：如果他逼裘德做的那些事情，根本对裘德没有好处呢？前一天，他们头一次一起冲澡，事后裘德很安静，深深陷入了神游状态里，双眼无神而空荡，让威廉一时间害怕起来。裘德根本不想一起洗澡的，但威廉逼他。在淋浴间里，裘德僵硬而严肃，威廉从裘德紧绷不动的嘴巴看出他在忍受，在等着赶紧结束。但他没让他离开淋浴间，一直逼他留下。他的表现（不是故意的，但是谁管你）就像凯莱布——他逼裘德去做他不想做的事，而裘德去做是因为他要他做。“这样对你有好处的。”他说，想到这里（虽然他当时如此相信）他简直要反胃了。从来没有人像裘德这样毫不怀疑地相信他，他却根本不知道自己在做什么。
“Willem’s not a health-care professional,” he remembered Andy saying. “He’s an actor.” And although both he and Jude had laughed at the time, he wasn’t sure Andy was wrong. Who was he to try to direct Jude’s mental health? “Don’t trust me so much,” he wanted to say to Jude. But how could he? Wasn’t this what he had wanted from Jude, from this relationship? To be so indispensable to another person that that person couldn’t even comprehend his life without him? And now he had it, and the demands of the position terrified him. He had asked for responsibility without understanding completely how much damage he could do. Was he able to do this? He thought of Jude’s horror of sex and knew that behind that horror lay another, one he had always surmised but had never inquired about: So what was he supposed to do? He wished there was someone who could tell him definitively if he was doing a good job or not; he wished he had someone guiding him in this relationship the way Kit guided him in his career, telling him when to take a risk and when to retreat, when to play Willem the Hero and when to be Ragnarsson the Terrible.
“威廉不是专业医疗人员，”他还记得安迪曾这么说，“他是个演员。”尽管当时他和裘德都大笑起来，但他不确定安迪是错的。他凭什么试图指导裘德的心理健康呢？“别这么信赖我。”他想对裘德说。但他怎么能？他不是一直希望裘德信赖他、希望这段恋情由他负责？他不是一直希望自己对另一个人不可或缺，以至于没了他，那个人甚至无法掌握自己的人生？现在他得到了，但这个位置的种种要求吓坏他了。他之前要求负责，却没完全了解自己可能造成多大的伤害。他真的有能力担负这个责任吗？他想到裘德对性爱的恐惧，知道在那恐惧背后还有另一个问题，那是他一直在推测、但从来没有问起的。所以他该怎么做？他真希望有个人可以斩钉截铁地告诉他做得好或不好；他真希望有个人能在这段恋情中指引他，就像基特指引他的事业那般，告诉他什么时候该冒险，什么时候该撤退；什么时候该扮演英雄威廉，什么时候又该扮演恐怖的拉格纳松。
Oh, what am I doing? he chanted to himself as his feet smacked against the road, as he ran past men and women and children readying themselves for the day, past buildings as narrow as closets, past little shops selling stiff, brick-like pillows made of plaited straw, past a small boy cradling an imperious-looking lizard to his chest, What am I doing, oh what am I doing?
啊，我在做什么？他步伐沉重地跑过街道，对自己喃喃念叨着，沿途经过了男人、女人和儿童，正准备开始这一天，也走过窄如橱柜的建筑物，以及一些贩卖形如砖头的硬挺草编枕的小店，还有胸前抱着一只模样傲慢的蜥蜴的小男孩，我在做什么？啊，我在做什么？
By the time he returned to the hotel an hour later, the sky was shading from white to a delicious, minty pale blue. The travel agent had booked them a suite with two beds, as always (he hadn’t remembered to have his assistant correct this), and Jude was lying on the one they had both slept in the night before, dressed for the day, reading, and when Willem came in, he stood and came over and hugged him.
一个小时后他回到饭店，天空已经从白色转为一种可口的、带着薄荷绿的蓝。旅行社如往常一样帮他们订了一间双床套房（他忘了请助理去更改），裘德正躺在前一夜他们睡的那张床上阅读，已经换好了外出服。他进门时，裘德站起身，走过来拥抱他。
“I’m all sweaty,” he mumbled, but Jude didn’t let go.
“我全身是汗。”他咕哝着，但裘德不肯放手。
“It’s okay,” Jude said. He stepped back and looked at him, holding him by the arms. “It’s going to be fine, Willem,” he said, in the same firm, declarative way Willem sometimes heard him speak to clients on the phone. “It really is. I’ll always take care of you, you know that, right?”
“不会有事的。”裘德说。他后退看着他，抓住他的双臂。“一切都会好好的，威廉。”他说，用威廉偶尔听到他跟客户讲电话时那种坚定、宣告的语气，“真的。我永远会照顾你，你知道的，对吧？”
He smiled. “I know,” he said, and what comforted him was not so much the reassurance itself, but that Jude seemed so confident, so competent, so certain that he, too, had something to offer. It reminded Willem that their relationship wasn’t a rescue mission after all, but an extension of their friendship, in which he had saved Jude and, just as often, Jude had saved him. For every time he had gotten to help Jude when he was in pain, or defend him against people asking too many questions, Jude had been there to listen to him worrying about his work, or to talk him out of his misery after he hadn’t gotten a part, or to (for three consecutive months, humiliatingly) pay his college loans when a job had fallen through and he didn’t have enough money to cover them himself. And yet somehow in the past seven months he had decided that he was going to repair Jude, that he was going to fix him, when really, he didn’t need fixing. Jude had always taken him at face value; he needed to try to do the same for him.
他微笑。“我知道。”他说，但让他安心的其实不是保证本身，而是裘德看起来这么自信、这么有能力、这么确定他也有办法付出。这让威廉想到他们的关系毕竟不是一场救援任务，而是他们友谊的延伸；在他们过去的友谊中，他救过裘德很多次，裘德也常常救他。每回他都会帮助疼痛中的裘德，或者帮裘德挡掉问太多问题的人，同样地，裘德也总是耐心地倾听他担心自己的工作，在他没接到角色时，劝慰他走出愁惨的心情，或者在他丢掉一份工作、没有足够的钱养活自己时，出钱帮他支付大学的学生贷款（而且连续三个月，让他觉得好丢脸）。然而在过去七个月，他不知怎地决定要修补裘德，要把他修理好，但其实他根本不需要修理。裘德一直相信他说的话；他也得试着对裘德做同样的事。
“I ordered breakfast,” Jude said. “I thought you might want some privacy. Do you want to take a shower?”
“我点了早餐送到房间来，”裘德说，“我想你可能需要一点隐私。要去冲个澡吗？”
“Thanks,” he said, “but I think I’ll wait until after we eat.” He took a breath. He could feel his anxiety fade; he could feel himself returning to who he was. “But would you sing with me?” Every morning for the past two months, they had been singing with each other in preparation for Duets. In the film, his character and the character’s wife led an annual Christmas pageant, and both he and the actress playing his wife would be performing their own vocals. The director had sent him a list of songs to work on, and Jude had been practicing with him: Jude took the melody, and he took the harmony.
“谢谢你，”他说，“但我想等吃过饭再去洗。”他吸了口气，可以感觉到焦虑退去，自己又恢复到正常的状态。“不过你可以陪我唱歌吗？”过去两个月，为了准备《二重唱》，他们每天早上都一起练唱。在电影里，他的角色和饰演他太太的角色要参加一场年度的圣诞表演，他和那位女演员都必须唱歌。导演给了他一份练习歌单，裘德会陪他一起练：裘德唱主旋律，他唱和声。
“Sure,” Jude said. “Our usual?” For the past week, they’d been working on “Adeste Fideles,” which he would have to sing a cappella, and for the past week, he’d been pitching sharp at the exact same point, at “Venite adoremus,” right in the first stanza. He’d wince every time he did it, hearing the error, and Jude would shake his head at him and keep going, and he’d follow him until the end. “You’re overthinking it,” Jude would say. “When you go sharp, it’s because you’re concentrating too hard on staying on key; just don’t think about it, Willem, and you’ll get it.”
“当然可以，”裘德说，“老样子？”过去一星期，他们都在练习他在电影中必须清唱的《齐来崇拜歌》，而且一整个星期，他都在同一个地方走音、唱得太高，就是第一段的“齐来虔诚同崇拜”。他每回走音，听到自己唱坏了，就皱起脸，而裘德会朝他摇摇头，继续唱下去，他就跟着唱完。“你想太多了，”裘德会说，“你唱得太高，是因为你太专注要把音唱准；不要想就是了，威廉。这样你就能掌握了。”
That morning, though, he felt certain he’d get it right. He gave Jude the bunch of herbs, which he was still holding, and Jude thanked him, pinching its little purple flowers between his fingers to release its perfume. “I think it’s a kind of perilla,” he said, and held his fingers up for Willem to smell.
但是那天早上，他很有把握自己会唱对。他把还拿在手上的那束香草植物递给裘德。裘德谢谢他，摘下几朵紫色小花在指尖揉捻出香气。“我想这是一种紫苏。”他说，伸出手指让威廉闻。
“Nice,” he said, and they smiled at each other.
“好香。”他说，他们相视而笑。
