《渺小一生》:“那就证明给我看。”

　 “Open your mouth,” Willem says, and he feels a pill, bitter as metal, being placed on his tongue. He feels a glass of water being tipped toward his lips. “Swallow,” Willem says, and he does, and soon after, the world ceases to exist.

“嘴巴张开。”威廉说。他感觉一颗苦得像金属的药丸被放在舌头上，接着是一杯水朝着他的嘴唇倾斜。“吞下去。”威廉说。他照做了，没多久，他就失去了意识。

　 When he wakes, he turns and sees Willem in bed with him, staring at him. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, but Willem doesn’t say anything. He reaches over and runs his hand through Willem’s hair. “Willem,” he says, “it wasn’t Harold’s fault. I made him do it.”

醒来时，他转头看到威廉躺在他旁边，凝视着他。“对不起。”他轻声说，但威廉什么都没说。他伸出一只手抚着威廉的头发。“威廉，”他说，“那不是哈罗德的错。是我逼他陪我去的。”

　 Willem snorts. “Obviously,” he says. “But he still shouldn’t have agreed to it.”

威廉冷哼一声。“显然是，”他说，“可是他不该答应。”

　 They are quiet for a long time, and he thinks of what he needs to say, what he has always thought but never articulated. “I know this is going to sound illogical to you,” he tells Willem, who looks back at him. “But even all these years later, I still can’t think of myself as disabled. I mean—I know I am. I know I am. I have been for twice as long as I haven’t been. It’s the only way you’ve known me: as someone who—who needs help. But I remember myself as someone who used to be able to walk whenever he wanted to, as someone who used to be able to run.

他们沉默了好久。他想到自己必须说出来，那是他总是在思索、但从来没法清楚表达的事。“我知道这件事你一定觉得很不合逻辑，”他告诉威廉，威廉也望着他，“但即使过了这么多年，我还是没办法把自己想成残障。我的意思是——我知道我是。我知道我是残障。我残障的时间已经是没残障时的两倍了。你只知道我这个样子：是一个——需要帮忙的人。但是我记得的自己，是随时想走就能走、想跑就能跑的人。

　 “I think every person who becomes disabled thinks they were robbed of something. But I suppose I’ve always felt that—that if I acknowledge that I am disabled, then I’ll have conceded to Dr. Traylor, then I’ll have let Dr. Traylor determine the shape of my life. And so I pretend I’m not; I pretend I am who I was before I met him. And I know it’s not logical or practical. But mostly, I’m sorry because—because I know it’s selfish. I know my pretending has consequences for you. So—I’m going to stop.” He takes a breath, closes and opens his eyes. “I’m disabled,” he says. “I’m handicapped.” And as foolish as it is—he is forty-seven, after all; he has had thirty-two years to admit this to himself—he feels himself about to cry.

“我想每个变成残障的人，都认为自己被夺走了一些东西。但我猜想，我一直觉得，如果我承认自己是个残障，那么我就是向特雷勒医生认输，让特雷勒医生决定我人生是什么样子。于是我假装自己不是残障；假装我还是认识他之前的那个自己。我知道这不合逻辑也不切实际。但最重要的，我很抱歉是因为——因为我知道这样很自私。我知道我的假装连累了你。所以——我不会再假装了。”他吸了口气，闭上眼睛又张开。“我是残障，”他说，“我是残废。”这很愚蠢（毕竟他都47岁了；他有三十二年可以向自己承认，却都没去做），他觉得自己快哭出来了。

　 “Oh, Jude,” says Willem, and pulls him toward him. “I know you’re sorry. I know this is hard. I understand why you’ve never wanted to admit it; I do. I just worry about you; I sometimes think I care more about your being alive than you do.”

“啊，裘德，”威廉说，随即朝他靠过去，“我知道你很抱歉。我知道这很难接受。我了解为什么你从来不想承认；我真的了解。我只是担心你；有时候我觉得我比你还想要保住你这条命。”

　 He shivers, hearing this. “No, Willem,” he says. “I mean—maybe, at one point. But not now.”

听到这里，他打了个冷战。“不要，威廉，”他说，“我的意思是——某些时候，或许是吧。但现在不要。”

　 “Then prove it to me,” Willem says, after a silence.

“那就证明给我看。”威廉沉默了一会儿说。

　 “I will,” he says.

“我会的。”他说。

　 January; February. He is busier than he has ever been. Willem is rehearsing a play. March: Two new wounds open up, both on his right leg. Now the pain is excruciating; now he never leaves his wheelchair except to shower and go to the bathroom and dress and undress. It has been a year, more, since he has had a reprieve from the pain in his feet. And yet every morning when he wakes, he places them on the floor and is, for a second, hopeful. Maybe today he will feel better. Maybe today the pain will have abated. But he never does; it never does. And still he hopes. April: His birthday. The play’s run begins. May: Back come the night sweats, the fever, the shaking, the chills, the delirium. Back he goes to the Hotel Contractor. Back goes the catheter, this time into the left side of his chest. But there is a change this time: this time the bacteria is different; this time, he will need an antibiotic drip every eight hours, not every twenty-four. Back comes Patrizia, now two times a day: at six a.m., at Greene Street; at two p.m. at Rosen Pritchard; and at ten p.m. again at Greene Street, a night nurse, Yasmin. For the first time in their friendship, he sees only one performance of Willem’s play: his days are so segmented, so controlled by his medication, that he is simply unable to go a second time. For the first time since this cycle began a year ago, he feels himself tumbling toward despair; he feels himself giving up. He has to remind himself he must prove to Willem that he wants to remain alive, when all he really wants to do is stop. Not because he is depressed, but because he is exhausted. At the conclusion of one appointment, Andy looks at him with a strange expression and tells him that he’s not sure if he’s realized, but it’s been a month since he last cut himself, and he thinks about this. Andy is right. He has been too tired, too consumed to think about cutting.

一月跟二月：他前所未有地忙碌。威廉在排练一出舞台剧。三月：他又多长出两个疮，都在右腿上。现在那疼痛非常难受，他成天坐在轮椅上，只有冲澡、上厕所和更衣时除外。他两脚的痛楚一年多来都没有减轻。但每天早上醒来，把双脚放在地上时，有那么一秒钟，他都会充满希望。或许今天他会觉得好一点。或许今天疼痛会减轻。但从来没有；一点都没有。不过他还是期望着。四月：他的生日。威廉的舞台剧开始公演了。五月：夜里的冒汗、发烧、颤抖、发冷、谵妄又回来了。他又去了康垂克特酒店，被置入中央静脉导管，改从左胸插入。但这回有个改变：这回的细菌不一样；这回，他每八个小时就得打一次抗生素点滴，不是每二十四小时。帕特里齐亚又回来了，现在一天两次：早上6点在格林街；下午2点在罗森·普理查德；晚上10点在格林街，夜班护士雅思敏会过来。从他和威廉认识以来，这次的舞台剧演出，他破天荒只看了一场。他每天的时间被切割得太破碎、被医疗控制得太严重了，实在没法再去看第二次。自从去年首次开始治疗周期以来，他头一次觉得自己逐渐坠入绝望，他觉得自己开始要放弃了，同时，他还得提醒自己必须证明给威廉看，证明他想活着，但其实他只希望停止。不是因为他很沮丧，而是他筋疲力尽了。有一回去安迪那里看诊，结束时，安迪用一种奇怪的表情看着他，不知道他有没有发现，但他已经一个月没有割自己了。他想了想，发现安迪说得没错。他实在太累了，累得根本没想到要割。

　 “Well,” Andy says. “I’m glad. But I’m sorry this is why you’ve stopped, Jude.”

“好吧，”安迪说，“我很高兴。但也很遗憾这是你停止的原因，裘德。”

　 “I am, too,” he says. They are both quiet, both, he fears, nostalgic for the days when cutting was his most serious problem.

“我也是。”他说。两个人都不说话，他担心，两个人都在怀念割自己是他最严重问题的那些日子。

　 Now it is June, now it is July. The wounds on his legs—the old ones, which he has had for more than a year, and the more recent ones, which he has had since March—have not healed. They have barely diminished. And it is then, just after the Fourth of July weekend, just after Willem’s run ends, that Andy asks if he can come talk to him and Willem. And because he knows what Andy is going to say, he lies and says that Willem is busy, that Willem doesn’t have the time, as if by delaying the conversation, he might delay his future as well, but early one Saturday evening he comes home from the office and there they are in the apartment, waiting for him.

接着是六月，再过来是七月。他腿上的疮都没有愈合——旧的那些已经超过一年了，比较新的则是从三月到现在，而且几乎都没有缩小。此时，就在七月四日国庆节的周末之后，威廉的演出刚结束，安迪问能不能去他们家跟他和威廉谈谈。他知道安迪要谈什么，于是撒谎说威廉很忙、没时间，仿佛借着拖延这次谈话，就可以拖延他的未来。但是一个星期六傍晚，他从办公室回到家里，发现他们两个都在公寓里等着他。

　 The speech is what he expects. Andy recommends—he strongly recommends—amputation. Andy is gentle, very gentle, but he can tell, from how rehearsed his delivery is, from how formal he is, that he is nervous.

安迪要说什么他已经料到了。安迪建议（强烈建议）截肢。安迪很温柔，非常温柔，但从他讲的话那么像排练过、那么正式，他知道他很紧张。

　 “We always knew this day would come,” Andy begins, “but that doesn’t make it any easier. Jude, only you know how much pain, how much inconvenience, you can tolerate. I can’t tell you that. I can tell you that you’ve gone on far longer than most people would. I can tell you you’ve been extraordinarily courageous—don’t make that face: you have been; you are—and I can tell you that I can’t imagine what you’ve been suffering.

“我们一直知道会有这一天，”安迪开始说，“但这件事不会因此变得比较容易。裘德，只有你知道有多痛、多不方便，自己又能忍受到什么程度。这些我没办法告诉你。我可以告诉你的，就是你已经比大部分人撑得都要久了。我可以告诉你，你一直都非常勇敢。别摆出那个表情，你真的很勇敢。而且我可以告诉你，我无法想象你有多煎熬。

　 “But all of that aside—even if you feel you have the wherewithal to keep going—there are some realities to consider here. The treatments aren’t working. The wounds aren’t healing. The fact that you’ve had two bone infections in less than a year is alarming to me. I’m worried you’re going to develop an allergy to one of the antibiotics, and then we’ll be really, really fucked. And even if you don’t, you’re not tolerating the drugs as well as I’d hoped you would: you’ve lost way too much weight, a troubling amount of weight, and every time I see you, you’ve gotten a little weaker.

“这些都先摆在一旁，即使你觉得还有力气撑下去，眼前还是有一些现实要考虑。我们做的治疗没有用。你的伤口一直没有愈合。而且你不到一年内发生两次骨头感染，这让我非常警觉。我担心你接下来会开始对某种抗生素过敏，那我们就真的、真的惨了。即使你没有这种过敏，你对这些药物的耐药性也不如我的期望。你的体重掉得太多，多到会出问题，而且我每次看到你，你就更虚弱一点。

　 “The tissue in your upper legs seems to be healthy enough that I’m pretty certain we’ll be able to spare both knees. And Jude, I promise you that your quality of life will improve instantly if we amputate. There won’t be any more pain in your feet. You’ve never had a wound on your thighs, and I don’t think there’s any immediate fear you will. The prosthetics available now are so infinitely superior than what they were even ten years ago that honestly, your gait will probably be better, more natural, with them than it is with your actual legs. The surgery is very straightforward—just four hours or so—and I’ll do it myself. And the inpatient recovery is brief: less than a week in the hospital, and we’ll fit you with temporary prostheses immediately.”

“你大腿的组织似乎还够健康，我相当确定可以保住你两边的膝盖。另外裘德，我跟你保证，如果截肢的话，你的生活质量会立刻改善。两脚再也不会痛了。你的大腿不曾有过伤口，我不认为你截肢后需要担忧。现在的义肢比起十年前都好太多了，所以老实说，你的步态大概还会比你用现在这两条腿走还要好、还要自然。这个手术很简单，只要大约四小时，而且我会亲自动手术。住院的恢复期也很短：不到一星期就可以出院了，然后我们会立刻帮你装上临时义肢。”

　 Andy stops, placing his hands on his knees, and looks at them. For a long while, none of them speaks, and then Willem begins to ask questions, smart questions, questions he should be asking: How long is the outpatient recovery period? What kind of physical therapy would he be doing? What are the risks associated with the surgery? He half listens to the responses, which he already knows, more or less, having researched these very questions, this very scenario, every year since Andy had first suggested it to him, seventeen years ago.

安迪停下来，双手放在膝盖上看着他。有好一会儿，他们三个人都没说话，然后威廉开始提问，很聪明的问题，都是他自己该问的：接下来，恢复期还要多久？他要做什么样的物理治疗？这个手术有什么风险？他没太认真听那些回答，因为他多多少少知道。自从安迪十七年前第一次跟他提到截肢的可能性，他每年都查过这些问题，演练过这个剧本。

　 Finally, he interrupts them. “What happens if I say no?” he asks, and he can see the dismay move across both of their faces.

最后，他打断他们。“如果我拒绝开刀，那会怎么样？”他问，他看得出威廉和安迪的脸色都沉了下来。

　 “If you say no, we’ll keep pushing forward with everything we’ve been doing and hope it works eventually,” Andy says. “But Jude, it’s always better to have an amputation when you get to decide to have it, not when you’re forced to have it.” He pauses. “If you get a blood infection, if you develop sepsis, then we will have to amputate, and I won’t be able to guarantee that you’ll keep the knees. I won’t be able to guarantee that you won’t lose some other extremity—a finger; a hand—that the infection won’t spread far beyond your lower legs.”

“如果你拒绝开刀，我们就继续做现在的各种治疗，希望最后有效。”安迪说，“但是裘德，当你还可以决定截肢时，总是比较好的，不要等到你被迫非得截肢。”他暂停了一下，“如果你血液感染，变成败血症，那我们就非得截肢不可，到时候我就没办法担保你还能保住膝盖，也没办法担保感染不会扩散得更厉害，让你失去其他部分，例如一根手指，或是一整只手。”