《渺小一生》:原谅我。

　 He leaned against the sofa and closed his eyes; he could hear Jude and Malcolm talking to each other, quietly, and then Malcolm walking toward the other end of the apartment, where his bedroom was, and the plank of wood being lifted and then dropped back into place, and the flush of the toilet.

他往后靠在沙发上，闭上眼睛。他可以听到裘德和马尔科姆很小声地交谈，接着马尔科姆走到公寓另一头他卧室那里。他听到那块木板被拿起来，又放回去，然后是马桶冲水声。

　 “We’re ready,” he heard Jude say, and he stood, and Willem stood with him, and Malcolm came over to him and put his arm across his back and they shuffled as a group toward the door, where he was gripped by a terror: if he went outside, he knew he would see Jackson, appearing as suddenly as he had that day in the café.

“准备好了。”他听到裘德说，于是他站起来，威廉也跟着起身。马尔科姆走过来，一手揽着他的背部，他们一群人拖着脚步走向前门。此时他忽然被一股恐惧攫住：如果他走出去，他知道自己会看到杰克逊，就像那天在小餐馆那样忽然出现。

　 “I can’t go,” he said, stopping. “I don’t want to go, don’t make me go.”

“我不能离开。”他说，站住了，“我不想离开。别逼我。”

　 “JB,” Willem began, and something about Willem’s voice, about his very presence, made him in that moment irrationally furious, and he shook Malcolm’s arm off of him and turned to face them, energy flooding his body. “You don’t get a say in what I do, Willem,” he said. “You’re never here and you’ve never supported me and you never called me, and you don’t get to come in making fun of me—poor, stupid, fucked-up JB, I’m Willem the Hero, I’m coming in to save the day—just because you want to, okay? So leave me the fuck alone.”

“杰比。”威廉开口。威廉的声音、威廉整个人的存在，其中有个什么让他在那一刻无名火起，于是他甩开马尔科姆的手臂，转身面对他们，忽然浑身是劲。“你没资格叫我做什么，威廉，”他说，“你从来没站在我这边，从来没支持我，也从来不打电话给我，所以你别想跑来这里看我笑话——可怜、愚蠢、完蛋的杰比，我是英雄威廉，我要来救你了——只因为你高兴，好吗？他妈的别烦我了。”

　 “JB, I know you’re upset,” Willem said, “but no one’s making fun of you, least of all me,” but before he’d begun speaking, JB had seen Willem look over, quickly, and, it seemed, conspiratorially, at Jude, and for some reason this had made him even more livid. What had happened to the days when they all understood one another, when he and Willem had gone out every weekend, when they had returned the next day to share the night’s stories with Malcolm and Jude, Jude who never went anywhere, who never shared stories of his own? How had it happened that he was the one who was all alone? Why had they left him for Jackson to pick over and destroy? Why hadn’t they fought harder for him? Why had he ruined it all for himself? Why had they let him? He wanted to devastate them; he wanted them to feel as inhuman as he did.

“杰比，我知道你很生气，”威廉说，“但是没有人要看你笑话，尤其是我。”但杰比还没回话，就看到威廉很快看了裘德一眼，仿佛两个人在密谋什么，因为某些原因，这个举动搞得他更加愤怒。以前他们四个彼此了解，他和威廉每个周末都会出去玩，次日回来就把前一晚的故事跟马尔科姆和裘德分享，而裘德从来不出去玩，从来不分享他的故事。那样的日子都到哪里去了？为什么到最后他是落单的那一个？为什么他们要留下他，让杰克逊玩弄他、摧毁他？为什么他们不更努力地把他抢回去？为什么他要毁了自己的一切？为什么他们要让他这样？他想毁掉他们，他要他们体会到他所经历的那种非人的可怕感觉。

　 “And you,” he said, turning to Jude. “You like knowing how fucked up I am? You like always being the person who gets to learn everyone else’s secrets, without ever telling us a single fucking thing? What do you think this is, Jude? You think you get to be a part of the club and you never have to say anything, you never have to tell us anything? Well, it doesn’t fucking work like that, and we’re all fucking sick of you.”

“还有你，”他说，转向裘德，“你喜欢看到我有多完蛋吗？你喜欢总是当那个知道其他所有人的秘密、自己却一件事都不肯说的人吗？你觉得这算什么，裘德？你以为你可以成为这个群体的一分子，但是自己什么都不必说，什么都不告诉我们吗？唔，你他妈的这样是不行的，我们他妈的全都受够了。”

　 “That’s enough, JB,” Willem said sharply, grabbing his shoulder, but he was strong suddenly, and he wrenched out of Willem’s grasp, his feet unexpectedly nimble, dancing toward the bookcase like a boxer. He looked at Jude, who was standing in silence, his face very still and his eyes very large, almost as if he was waiting for him to continue, waiting for JB to hurt him further. The first time he had painted Jude’s eyes, he had gone to a pet store to take photographs of a rough green snake because the colors were so similar. But in that moment they were darker, almost like a grass snake’s, and he wished, ridiculously, that he had his paints, because he knew that if he had them, he’d be able to get the shade exactly right without even having to try.

“够了，杰比。”威廉厉声说，抓住他的一边肩膀，但他忽然变得很壮，挣脱了威廉，双脚出奇的灵活，像个拳师般朝书架舞动。他看着裘德，裘德沉默地站在那里，非常平静，眼睛睁得很大，像要等着他继续说下去，等着杰比进一步伤害他。他第一次画裘德的眼睛时，还跑去一家宠物店拍下一条糙鳞绿树蛇的照片，因为两种翠绿色很相似。但那一刻，裘德的双眼颜色变暗了，几乎成了水游蛇那样的灰褐色，而他很荒谬地希望自己的颜料在手边，因为他知道只要有颜料，他就可以当场准确地画出那个颜色，连试色都不必。

　 “It doesn’t work like that,” he said to Jude again. And then, before he knew it, he was doing Jackson’s imitation of Jude, the hideous parody, his mouth open as Jackson had done it, making an imbecile’s moan, dragging his right leg behind him as if it were made of stone. “I’m Jude,” he slurred. “I’m Jude St. Francis.” For a few seconds, his was the only voice in the room, his movements the only movements, and in those seconds, he wanted to stop, but he couldn’t stop. And then Willem had run at him, and the last thing he had seen was Willem drawing his fist back, and the last thing he had heard was the cracking of bone.

“这样是不行的。”他又对着裘德说。然后，在他意识到之前，就不知不觉地学起杰克逊对裘德那种丑恶的模仿，嘴巴像杰克逊之前那样张开，发出一种低能的呜咽，然后右脚故意拖在身后，好像是石头做的一样。“我是裘德。”他口齿不清地说，“我是裘德·圣弗朗西斯。”有几秒钟，他的声音是房间里唯一的声音，他的动作是房间里唯一的动作。在那几秒钟，他想停止，却停不下来。然后威廉冲向他，他看到的最后一个景象就是威廉的拳头往后挥，听到的最后一个声音就是骨头裂开的脆响。

　 He woke and didn’t know where he was. It was difficult to breathe. Something was on his nose, he realized. But when he tried to lift his hand to feel what it was, he couldn’t. And then he had looked down and seen that his wrists were in restraints, and he knew he was in the hospital. He closed his eyes and remembered: Willem had hit him. Then he remembered why, and he shut his eyes very tightly, howling but not making a noise.

他醒来时不知道自己身在何处。他觉得呼吸困难，发现鼻子上有东西。当他想抬起手摸摸看时，却做不到。他一低头，看到自己的手腕都被带子缚在床沿，才知道自己在医院。他闭上眼睛回想：威廉揍了他。然后他想起是为什么，于是把眼睛闭得很紧，无声地痛哭起来。

　 The moment passed and he opened his eyes again. He turned his head to the left, where an ugly blue curtain blocked his view of the door. And then he turned his head to the right, toward the early-morning light, and saw Jude, asleep in the chair next to his bed. The chair was too small for him to sleep in, and he had folded himself into a terrible-looking position: his knees drawn up to his chest, his cheek resting atop them, his arms wrapped around his calves.

那一刻过去了，他再度睁开眼睛，把头转向左边，那里有一面丑陋的蓝色帘子挡住了门。接着他又转向右边，朝着清晨的光线，他看到了裘德，在他床边的椅子上睡着了。那椅子小得实在不适合睡在上头，他蜷缩成一个很可怕的姿势：膝盖缩到胸口，一边脸颊靠在膝盖上，双臂环抱着小腿。

　 You know you shouldn’t sleep like that, Jude, he told him in his head. Your back is going to hurt when you wake up. But even if he could have reached his arm over to wake him, he wouldn’t have.

你明知道你不该这样睡觉的，裘德，他在心里这样告诉他，你醒来时会背痛的。但即使他可以伸手摇醒他，他也不会这么做。

　 Oh god, he thought. Oh god. What have I done?

啊老天，他心想。啊老天，我做了什么？

　 I’m sorry, Jude, he said in his head, and this time he was able to cry properly, the tears running into his mouth, the mucus that he was unable to clean away bubbling over as well. But he was silent; he didn’t make any noise. I’m sorry, Jude, I’m so sorry, he repeated to himself, and then he whispered the words aloud, but quietly, so quietly that he could hear only his lips opening and closing, nothing more. Forgive me, Jude. Forgive me.

对不起，裘德，他在脑袋里说。这回他可以好好哭了，眼泪滑进嘴里，他没法擦掉的鼻涕也流下来。但他保持安静，没发出任何声音。对不起，裘德，对不起。他在脑袋里兀自重复着，然后用气音说出来，但是很小声，小声到他只能听见自己的嘴唇打开又合上，如此而已。原谅我，裘德。原谅我。

　 Forgive me.

原谅我。

　 Forgive me.

原谅我。

　 Forgive me.

原谅我。

　 [ IV ]

第四部分

　 The Axiom of Equality

相等公理

　 1

1

　 THE NIGHT BEFORE he leaves for Boston for their friend Lionel’s wedding, he gets a message from Dr. Li telling him that Dr. Kashen has died. “It was a heart attack; very fast,” Dr. Li writes. The funeral is Friday afternoon.

要去波士顿参加老友莱诺婚礼的前一夜，他收到李博士的短信，说他以前的指导教授卡申博士过世了。“是心脏病发，非常快。”李博士写道。葬礼安排在星期五下午。