《渺小一生》:他從來沒有過生日蛋糕，但他

　 But later, I would recognize how that incident had taken something large from him, how it had changed him: into someone else, or maybe into someone he had once been. I would see the months before Caleb as a period in which he was healthier than he’d been: he had allowed me to hug him when I saw him, and when I touched him—putting an arm around him as I passed him in the kitchen—he would let me; his hand would go on chopping the carrots before him in the same steady rhythm. It had taken twenty years for that to happen. But after Caleb, he regressed. At Thanksgiving, I had gone toward him to embrace him, but he had quickly stepped to the left—just a bit, just enough so that my arms closed around air, and there had been a second in which we looked at each other, and I knew that whatever I had been allowed just a few months ago I would be no longer: I knew I would have to start all over. I knew that he had decided that Caleb was right, that he was disgusting, that he had, somehow, deserved what had happened to him. And that was the worst thing, the most reprehensible thing. He had decided to believe Caleb, to believe him over us, because Caleb confirmed what he had always thought and always been taught, and it is always easier to believe what you already think than to try to change your mind.

但后來，我會明白那個事件是如何把他很大的一塊拿掉、如何改變了他：把他變成另一個人，或者是把他變回了以前的模樣。我會把他認(rèn)識凱萊布之前的那幾個月，視為他多年來最健康的時期：見面時，他會讓我擁抱他，也會讓我碰觸他，比如，在廚房里從他身邊經(jīng)過時，我若伸出一只手?jǐn)堉?，他會繼續(xù)以同樣的穩(wěn)定節(jié)奏切著面前的胡蘿卜。這樣的事情，我們花了二十年才達(dá)成。但凱萊布事件之后，他倒退了。感恩節(jié)時，我走過去要擁抱他，他很快就往左閃，只是一點點，剛好讓我雙手撲空。接下來有一秒鐘，我們看著彼此，我知道幾個月前他允許我做的那些事情，全都一筆勾銷了，我得從頭開始。我知道他已經(jīng)判定凱萊布是對的，判定他自己很令人反感，判定他身上發(fā)生的事情都是活該。而那是最糟糕、最可惡的事情。他決定相信凱萊布，而不是我們，因為凱萊布確認(rèn)了他以前一貫的想法，他一直被教導(dǎo)的事情。而相信既有的想法，總比改變心意要來得容易。

　 Later, when things got bad, I would wonder what I could have said or done. Sometimes I would think that there was nothing I could have said—there was something that might have helped, but none of us saying it could have convinced him. I still had those fantasies: the gun, the posse, Fifty West Twenty-ninth Street, apartment 17J. But this time we wouldn’t shoot. We would take Caleb Porter by each arm, lead him down to the car, drive him to Greene Street, drag him upstairs. We would tell him what to say, and warn him that we would be just outside the door, waiting in the elevator, the pistol cocked and pointed at his back. And from behind the door, we’d listen to what he said: I didn’t mean any of it. I was completely wrong. The things I did, but more than that, the things I said, they were meant for someone else. Believe me, because you believed me before: you are beautiful and perfect, and I never meant what I said. I was wrong, I was mistaken, no one could ever have been more wrong than I was.

后來，當(dāng)事情惡化時，我會一直想著當(dāng)初要是能多說什么或多做什么會怎么樣。有時我會想著自己說什么都沒用，因為有些話或許有幫助，但從我們嘴里說出來都無法讓他相信。我還是會幻想那些事：槍、民兵隊、西29街50號17J公寓。但這回我們不會開槍，我們會一人抓住他一只手，把他押進(jìn)車?yán)?，開到格林街，把他拖上樓。我們會告訴他要說什么，然后警告他我們就在門外的電梯里等著，手槍已經(jīng)上膛，瞄準(zhǔn)他的背部。隔著門，我們會聽到他說的話：我講的那些都不是真心的，我完全錯了，我做的那些事錯了，但更重要的是，我說的那些話，其實是針對另一個人。相信我，因為你以前相信過我：你漂亮又完美，我講的那些話從來不是真心的。我錯了，我誤解了，沒有人會比我錯得更離譜。

　 3

3

　 EVERY AFTERNOON AT four, after the last of his classes and before the first of his chores, he had a free period of an hour, but on Wednesdays, he was given two hours. Once, he had spent those afternoons reading or exploring the grounds, but recently, ever since Brother Luke had told him he could, he had spent them all at the greenhouse. If Luke was there, he would help the brother water the plants, memorizing their names—Miltonia spectabilis, Alocasia amazonica, Asystasia gangetica—so he could repeat them back to the brother and be praised. “I think the Heliconia vellerigera’s grown,” he’d say, petting its furred bracts, and Brother Luke would look at him and shake his head. “Unbelievable,” he’d say. “My goodness, what a great memory you have,” and he’d smile to himself, proud to have impressed the brother.

每天下午4點，最后一堂課結(jié)束之后、第一項例行雜務(wù)開始之前，他有一個小時的自由時間，但是星期三有兩小時。有一陣子，他會利用這些時間閱讀或在修道院周圍探險，但最近，自從盧克修士跟他說可以之后，他把時間都花在溫室里。如果盧克修士也在里面，他會幫他澆水，同時記住這些植物的拉丁語學(xué)名——Miltonia spectabilis（堇色蘭）、Alocasia amazonica（觀音蓮）、Asystasia gangetica（寬葉十萬錯），這樣下回他就可以跟修士說出來，得到贊美?！拔矣X得Heliconia vellerigera（金剛蝎尾蕉）長大了?！彼麜敲兹椎陌f，盧克修士會看著他搖頭?！罢媸请y以置信，”他會說，“老天，你的記憶力太好了?！比缓笏麜@自微笑，很得意自己能讓修士刮目相看。

　 If Brother Luke wasn’t there, he instead passed the time playing with his things. The brother had shown him how if he moved aside a stack of plastic planters in the far corner of the room, there was a small grate, and if you removed the grate, there was a small hole beneath, big enough to hold a plastic garbage bag of his possessions. So he had unearthed his twigs and stones from under the tree and moved his haul to the greenhouse, where it was warm and humid, and where he could examine his objects without losing feeling in his hands. Over the months, Luke had added to his collection: he gave him a wafer of sea glass that the brother said was the color of his eyes, and a metal whistle that had a round little ball within it that jangled like a bell when you shook it, and a small cloth doll of a man wearing a woolen burgundy top and a belt trimmed with tiny turquoise-colored beads that the brother said had been made by a Navajo Indian, and had been his when he was a boy. Two months ago, he had opened his bag and discovered that Luke had left him a candy cane, and although it had been February, he had been thrilled: he had always wanted to taste a candy cane, and he broke it into sections, sucking each into a spear point before biting down on it, gnashing the sugar into his molars.

如果盧克修士不在溫室里，他就會玩他的東西打發(fā)時間。修士跟他示范過，如果他把溫室遠(yuǎn)處角落的一疊塑料花盆搬開，會看到一塊小小的鐵柵欄，把鐵柵欄拿開，就會發(fā)現(xiàn)底下有個小洞，放得下一個塑料垃圾袋，可以把東西藏在里面。于是他把自己收集的小樹枝和石頭從樹底下挖出來，改放到溫室的小洞里。溫室長年溫暖又潮濕，他可以在那里檢視自己的收藏，不會凍得雙手發(fā)麻。那幾個月，盧克替他增加了一些收藏品：給了他一片海玻璃，說是他眼睛的顏色；還有一個金屬哨子，里面有個小圓球，搖晃時會像個鈴鐺般叮當(dāng)響；還有個小玩偶，是一個男人穿著酒紅色的羊毛上衣，系的腰帶邊緣鑲著松石綠的小珠子，修士說這是一個納瓦霍印第安人做的，他小時候就有了。兩個月前，他打開他的塑料袋，發(fā)現(xiàn)盧克留給他了一根圣誕節(jié)常見的紅白紋拐杖糖，盡管當(dāng)時已經(jīng)是二月份了，但他還是興奮極了：他從沒吃過拐杖糖，一直想嘗嘗看，他把那根糖折成好幾段，吸到每一段的頭上都尖尖的，才放進(jìn)嘴里，用臼齒碾磨。

　 The brother had told him that the next day he had to make sure to come right away, as soon as classes ended, because he had a surprise for him. All day he had been antsy and distracted, and although two of the brothers had hit him—Michael, across the face; Peter, across the backside—he had barely noticed. Only Brother David’s warning, that he would be made to do extra chores instead of having his free hours if he didn’t start concentrating, made him focus, and somehow, he finished the day.

盧克修士要他次日一下課就過來，有個驚喜要給他。這讓他一整天都煩躁不安、魂不守舍，就算有兩位修士打了他（邁克修士給了他一記耳光；彼得修士打了他屁股），他也幾乎沒多留心。直到戴維修士警告他，說他如果不專心上課，就要罰他多做其他雜務(wù)，也沒有自由時間了，他這才專注起來，終于度過了這一天。

　 As soon as he was outside, out of view of the monastery building, he ran. It was spring, and he couldn’t help but feel happy: he loved the cherry trees, with their froth of pink blossoms, and the tulips, their glossed, improbable colors, and the new grass, soft and tender beneath him. Sometimes, when he was alone, he would take the Navajo doll and a twig he had found that was shaped like a person outside and sit on the grass and play with them. He made up voices for them both, whispering to himself, because Brother Michael had said that boys didn’t play with dolls, and that he was getting too old to play, anyway.

一等到他走出修道院外，看不見里頭的人了，他就開始跑。這是春天，他忍不住快樂起來：他喜歡櫻樹，上頭開滿了泡沫般的粉紅色花朵；也喜歡郁金香那發(fā)亮、不可思議的顏色；還有新長出來的青草，踩在腳下又軟又柔。有時他會獨自拿著納瓦霍玩偶和一根形狀像人的小樹枝到戶外，坐在草地上跟它們玩。他會出聲假裝它們在講話，聲音小得只有自己聽得到，因為邁克修士說男生不可以玩娃娃，而且他太大了也不該玩。

　 He wondered if Brother Luke was watching him run. One Wednesday, Brother Luke had said, “I saw you running up here today,” and as he was opening his mouth to apologize, the brother had continued, “Boy, what a great runner you are! You’re so fast!” and he had been literally speechless, until the brother, laughing, told him he should close his mouth.

他很好奇這一刻盧克修士是不是看到他在跑。有個星期三，盧克修士跟他說：“我今天看到你跑來這里?！彼麖堊煺狼笗r，盧克修士又說：“小子，你真能跑！跑得好快！”他說不出話來，直到修士笑著說他應(yīng)該把嘴巴閉上。

　 When he stepped inside the greenhouse, there was no one there. “Hello?” he called out. “Brother Luke?”

他走進(jìn)溫室時，里面沒有人。“哈嘍？”他喊道，“盧克修士？”

　 “In here,” he heard, and he turned toward the little room that was appended to the greenhouse, the one stocked with the supplies of fertilizer and bottles of ionized water and a hanging rack of clippers and shears and gardening scissors and the floor stacked with bags of mulch. He liked this room, with its woodsy, mossy smell, and he went toward it eagerly and knocked.

“在這里。”他聽到他的聲音，便轉(zhuǎn)向了溫室旁邊的小屋。里面堆著肥料、一瓶瓶離子水和掛滿大小剪刀和園藝剪的架子，地上堆著一袋袋護(hù)根層。他喜歡這個小屋，喜歡里面森林、苔蘚的氣味。他趕緊走過去敲門。

　 When he walked in, he was at first disoriented. The room was dark and still, but for a small flame that Brother Luke was bent over on the floor. “Come closer,” said the brother, and he did.

剛走進(jìn)去時，他感到茫然不知所措。那房間昏暗寂靜，盧克修士正彎腰對著地板上小小的火焰?！斑^來一點?！毙奘空f。他照做了。

　 “Closer,” the brother said, and laughed. “Jude, it’s okay.”

“再過來一點，”修士說，然后大笑，“裘德，沒關(guān)系的?！?

　 So he went closer, and the brother held something up and said “Surprise!” and he saw it was a muffin, a muffin with a lit wooden match thrust into its center.

于是他湊得更近了，修士拿起一個東西說：“驚喜！”他看到一個小松糕，中央插著一小根點燃的火柴棒。

　 “What is it?” he asked.

“這是什么？”他問。

　 “It’s your birthday, right?” asked the brother. “And this is your birthday cake. Go on, make a wish; blow out the candle.”

“今天是你生日，對吧？”修士說，“這是你的生日蛋糕。來吧，許個愿，吹熄蠟燭。”

　 “It’s for me?” he asked, as the flame guttered.

“是給我的？”他問，看著那火焰搖曳不定。

　 “Yes, it’s for you,” said the brother. “Hurry, make a wish.”

“對，是給你的，”修士說，“快點，許個愿?！?

　 He had never had a birthday cake before, but he had read about them and he knew what to do. He shut his eyes and wished, and then opened them and blew out the match, and the room went completely dark.

他從來沒有過生日蛋糕，但他在書上讀過，知道該怎么做。他閉上眼睛許愿，再睜開眼睛吹熄火柴，小屋里全黑了。

　 “Congratulations,” Luke said, and turned on the light. He handed him the muffin, and when he tried to offer the brother some of it, Luke shook his head: “It’s yours.” He ate the muffin, which had little blueberries and which he thought was the best thing he had ever tasted, so sweet and cakey, and the brother watched him and smiled.

“恭喜你！”盧克說，然后打開燈。他把松糕遞給他。他想分給修士一點，但盧克搖搖頭：“這是你的了。”他吃了那夾了小顆藍(lán)莓的松糕，覺得是他這輩子吃過最好吃的東西，很甜又很松軟。修士看著他露出微笑。

　 “And I have something else for you,” said Luke, and reached behind him, and handed him a package, a large flat box wrapped in newspaper and tied with string. “Go on, open it,” Luke said, and he did, removing the newspaper carefully so it could be reused. The box was plain faded cardboard, and when he opened it, he found it contained an assortment of round pieces of wood. Each piece was notched on both ends, and Brother Luke showed him how the pieces could be slotted within one another to build boxes, and then how he could lay twigs across the top to make a sort of roof. Many years later, when he was in college, he would see a box of these logs in the window of a toy store, and would realize that his gift had been missing parts: a red-peaked triangular structure to build a roof, and the flat green planks that lay across it. But in the moment, it had left him mute with joy, until he had remembered his manners and thanked the brother again and again.

“我還有一個東西要給你?！北R克說，伸手從背后拿出一個包裹給他。那是一個大大的扁盒子，用報紙包著，上頭系了繩子?！皝戆?，打開它。”盧克說，于是他解開繩子，把報紙小心翼翼地拆掉以便今后好再利用。那是個普通的褪色硬紙盒，他打開來，發(fā)現(xiàn)里面裝了各式各樣的原木。每一根兩端都有凹口，盧克修士教他把凹槽互嵌，構(gòu)成一個方盒子，然后把樹枝排在頂端，成為某種屋頂。多年以后，他上大學(xué)時，看到一家玩具店的櫥窗里有一盒這種原木，這才明白當(dāng)年他那份禮物缺了某些部分：一個可當(dāng)屋頂?shù)募t色三角形尖頂結(jié)構(gòu)，還有鋪在上頭的綠色木板。但他小時候收到它的那一刻，已經(jīng)開心得說不出話來，直到他想起要有禮貌，才對修士謝了又謝。