《渺小一生》:他下意识地摇摇头。

　 “Obviously, you shouldn’t feel obligated to come,” he added, hastily, after inviting Andy to the court date.

“当然，你不必觉得有义务要来。”他邀请安迪去法院观礼之后，又匆忙补了一句。

　 “I’d love to come,” Andy said. “I was wondering when I’d be invited.”

“我很愿意去。”安迪说，“我还在想，你什么时候才要邀请我呢。”

　 Then he felt bad. “I just didn’t want you to feel you had to spend even more time with your weird patient who already makes your life so difficult,” he said.

他觉得很愧疚：“我只是觉得我已经害你的生活这么麻烦了，不希望你额外花更多时间在这个怪病人身上。”

　 “You’re not just my weird patient, Jude,” Andy said. “You’re also my weird friend.” He paused. “Or at least, I hope you are.”

“裘德，你不光是我的怪病人。”安迪说，“你也是我的怪朋友。”他暂停一下，“至少，我希望你是。”

　 He smiled into the phone. “Of course I am,” he said. “I’m honored to be your weird friend.”

他对着电话微笑，“我当然是。”他说，“我很荣幸能成为你的怪朋友。”

　 And so Andy was coming as well: he’d fly back that afternoon, but Malcolm and JB would spend the night, and they’d all leave together on Saturday.

于是安迪也要来了，他当天下午就会飞回纽约，不过马尔科姆和杰比会留下来过夜，他们四个会在周六一起离开波士顿。

　 Upon arriving, he had been surprised, and then moved, to see how thoroughly Harold and Julia had cleaned the house, and how proud they were of the work they’d done. “Look!” one or the other kept saying, triumphantly pointing at a surface—a table, a chair, a corner of floor—that would normally have been obscured by stacks of books or journals, but which was now clear of all clutter. There were flowers everywhere—winter flowers: bunches of decorative cabbages and white-budded dogwood branches and paperwhite bulbs, with their sweet, faintly fecal fragrance—and the books in their cases had been straightened and even the nap on the sofa had been repaired.

一到哈罗德家，看到哈罗德和朱丽娅把家里打扫得非常彻底，而且一副得意的样子，他很惊讶，也很感动。“你看！”总有一个会说，得意地指着平常堆放书籍或期刊的桌子、椅子或地板的角落，现在所有的凌乱都被清理了。到处都有鲜花——冬天的花：几棵叶牡丹、整枝白蕾山茱萸和白水仙，散发着甜美、微带粪便的芳香——书架上的书也排得整整齐齐，就连沙发上快磨穿的地方都修补好了。

　 “And look at this, Jude,” Julia had said, linking her arm through his, and showing him the celadon-glazed dish on the hallway table, which had been broken for as long as he’d known them, the shards that had snapped off its side permanently nested in the bowl and furred with dust. But now it had been fixed, and washed and polished.

“你看看这个，裘德。”朱丽娅说，挽着他的手臂，带他去看走廊桌上那个青瓷钵。从他认识他们以来，那个钵一直是破的，侧边两块断掉的破片永远放在碗里，积了厚厚的灰尘。但现在修好了，洗得干净发亮。

　 “Wow,” he said when presented with each new thing, grinning idiotically, happy because they were so happy. He didn’t care, he never had, whether their place was clean or not—they could’ve lived surrounded by Ionic columns of old New York Times, with colonies of rats squeaking plumply underfoot for all he cared—but he knew they thought he minded, and had mistaken his incessant, tedious cleaning of everything as a rebuke, as much as he’d tried, and tried, to assure them it wasn’t. He cleaned now to stop himself, to distract himself, from doing other things, but when he was in college, he had cleaned for the others to express his gratitude: it was something he could do and had always done, and they gave him so much and he gave them so little. JB, who enjoyed living in squalor, never noticed. Malcolm, who had grown up with a housekeeper, always noticed and always thanked him. Only Willem hadn’t liked it. “Stop it, Jude,” he’d said one day, grabbing his wrist as he picked JB’s dirty shirts off the floor, “you’re not our maid.” But he hadn’t been able to stop, not then, and not now.

“哇。”他说，他们指什么给他看，他就惊叹，咧嘴傻笑着，因为他们这么开心，他自己也开心极了。他从来不在乎他们家是否干净，就算他们家里的《纽约时报》堆得像一根根柱子，脚下有成群胖嘟嘟的老鼠钻来钻去吱吱叫，他也无所谓。但他知道他们以为他在乎，还误以为他不断勤勉地到处打扫是一种责备，尽管他一而再再而三跟他们保证不是。他现在打扫是为了分心，阻止自己去做别的事情，但他读大学的时候，帮其他人打扫是为了表达感激：那是他可以做的，也做习惯了，而且他们给了他这么多，他给他们的却这么少。杰比向来脏习惯了，从来没注意到。马尔科姆从小家里就有管家，所以他向来会注意到，也会跟他说谢谢。只有威廉不喜欢他这样。“别打扫了，裘德。”有天威廉说，在他捡拾杰比扔在地上的脏衬衫时抓住他的手腕，“你不是我们的佣人。”但他没能停止，当时没有，现在也没有。

　 By the time he wipes off the countertops a final time, it’s almost four thirty, and he staggers to his room, texts Willem not to call him, and falls into a brief, brutal sleep. When he wakes, he makes the bed and showers and dresses and returns to the kitchen, where Harold is standing at the counter, reading the paper and drinking coffee.

等到他最后一次把料理台擦干净时，已经快4点半了。他踉跄走进自己的房间，写短信给威廉叫他别打电话来，就倒下去短暂、狠狠地睡了一觉。起床后，他把床铺好，冲完澡，换好衣服又回到厨房。哈罗德正站在料理台前，喝着咖啡看报。

　 “Well,” Harold says, looking up at him. “Don’t you look handsome.”

“唔，”哈罗德说，抬头看他，“你看起来可真帅啊。”

　 He shakes his head, reflexively, but the truth is that he’d bought a new tie, and had his hair cut the day before, and he feels, if not handsome, then at least neat and presentable, which he always tries to be. He rarely sees Harold in a suit, but he’s wearing one as well, and the solemnity of the occasion makes him suddenly shy.

他下意识地摇摇头。其实，他买了一条新领带，而且前一天才去剪了头发，觉得自己就算不帅，也至少清爽像样，这是他始终努力做到的。他很少看到哈罗德穿西装，但今天他也穿了西装。想到这个场合的郑重程度，他忽然害羞起来。

　 Harold smiles at him. “You were busy last night, clearly. Did you sleep at all?”

哈罗德朝他微笑：“你昨天夜里显然很忙。你有睡觉吗？”

　 He smiles back. “Enough.”

他也微笑：“睡了。”

　 “Julia’s getting ready,” says Harold, “but I have something for you.”

“朱丽娅正在准备。”哈罗德说，“不过我有个东西要给你。”

　 “For me?”

“给我？”

　 “Yes,” says Harold, and picks up a small leather box, about the size of a baseball, from beside his coffee mug and holds it out to him. He opens it and inside is Harold’s watch, with its round white face and sober, forthright numbers. The band has been replaced with a new black crocodile one.

“没错。”哈罗德说，从装咖啡的马克杯旁拿起一个皮革小盒，大约像棒球那么大，然后递给他。他打开来，里头是哈罗德的手表，白色的圆形表面和朴素、清楚的数字，不过换上了一条崭新的鳄鱼皮表带。

　 “My father gave this to me when I turned thirty,” says Harold, when he doesn’t say anything. “It was his. And you are still thirty, so I at least haven’t messed up the symmetry of this.” He takes the box from him and removes the watch and reverses it so he can see the initials engraved on the back of the face: SS/HS/JSF. “Saul Stein,” says Harold. “That was my father. And then HS for me, and JSF for you.” He returns the watch to him.

“这是我30岁的时候，父亲送给我的。”哈罗德看他没说话，便开口说，“现在是你的了。而且你现在正好还是30岁，我至少还没破坏其中的对称性。”他把他手上的盒子拿过来，取出那支表，翻过来让他看背面刻的缩写：SS/HS/JSF。“索尔·斯坦（Saul Stein），”哈罗德说，“是我父亲。HS是我，JSF是你。”他把表递还给他。

　 He runs his thumbtip lightly over the initials. “I can’t accept this, Harold,” he says, finally.

他用拇指指尖轻轻拂过那行缩写。“我不能收，哈罗德。”他总算开了口。

　 “Sure you can,” Harold says. “It’s yours, Jude. I already bought a new one; you can’t give it back.”

“当然可以。”哈罗德说，“裘德，这是你的了。我已经买了新表，你不能再还给我了。”