She stood in the doorway in flannel pajamas, a toddler on her hip and two small girls clinging to her leg. Her son, about six, stood behind her. Audrey stepped aside to let me pass, but her movements were stiff, and she avoided looking directly at me. We’d spent little time together since she’d married.
她穿着法兰绒睡衣站在门口，背着一个蹒跚学步的孩子，一条腿被两个小女孩紧紧抱住，身后还站着她大约六岁的儿子。奥黛丽迈到一边，让我进去，但她动作僵硬，目光避免跟我对视。自从她结婚后，我们很少见面。
I moved into the house, stopping abruptly in the entryway when I saw a three-foot hole in the linoleum that plunged to the basement. I walked past the hole and into the kitchen, which was filled with the scent of our mother’s oils — birch, eucalyptus, ravensara.
我走进房子，在玄关处突然停下，看见油毡布上有个三英尺的大洞，延伸至地下室。我绕过洞走进厨房，里面充满了母亲的精油味——桦木、桉树和罗文沙的气味。
The day before I returned to England, I drove seven miles along the mountain range, then turned onto a narrow dirt road and stopped in front of a powder-blue house. I parked behind an RV that was nearly as large as the house itself. I knocked; my sister answered.
在返回英国的前一天，我开车沿山脉行驶七英里，然后拐到一条狭窄的土路上，来到一座浅灰蓝色的房子跟前。我在一辆几乎和房子一样大的房车后面停了车，敲了敲门。我姐姐来开门。
The conversation was slow, halting. Audrey asked me no questions about England or Cambridge. She had no frame of reference for my life, so we talked about hers — how the public school system was corrupt so she was teaching her children herself, at home. Like me, Audrey had never attended a public school. When she was seventeen, she had made a fleeting effort to get her GED. She had even enlisted the help of our cousin Missy, who had come up from Salt Lake City to tutor her. Missy had worked with Audrey for an entire summer, at the end of which she’d declared that Audrey’s education hovered somewhere between the fourth- and fifth-grade levels, and that a GED was out of the question. I chewed my lip and stared at her daughter, who had brought me a drawing, wondering what education she could hope to receive from a mother who had none herself.
我们的谈话慢条斯理，时断时续。奥黛丽没有问我关于英国和剑桥大学的问题。她对我的生活一无所知，于是我们谈论她的生活——公立学校如何腐败透顶，所以她自己在家教孩子。和我一样，奥黛丽从未上过公立学校。她十七岁时曾有一段时间努力想拿到普通同等学力证书，甚至还将盐湖城的表妹米茜请来教她。米茜帮奥黛丽辅导了一整个暑假，最后宣布，奥黛丽的教育停留在四五年级水平，想取得普通同等学力证书根本不可能。她的女儿拿来一张画给我看，我咬着嘴唇，盯着这个女孩，心想她能指望从一个没有受过教育的母亲那里学到什么呢。
I don’t know why I said it; I suppose Shawn was on my mind. I regretted the words even as they left my lips, hated myself for saying them. I turned to pass the tea set to my sister, so she could administer justice however she saw fit, but when I saw her expression I nearly dropped it. Her mouth hung open in a perfect circle.
我不知道为什么这么说，我脑子里想的是肖恩。话一出口，我就后悔了，恨自己说了这样的话。我转身将茶具递给姐姐，好让她为孩子们主持公正，但看到她的表情时，我差点儿把茶具扔在地上。她的嘴张成了一个圆圈。
I had brought a small porcelain tea set for her children, and when they began to quarrel over the teapot, I gathered up the pieces. The oldest girl reminded me that she was five now, which she said was too old to have a toy taken away. “If you act like a child,” I said, “I’ll treat you like one.”
我给她的孩子们带了一套瓷制小茶具，当他们开始为茶壶争吵，我便将茶具收了起来。最大的女孩提醒我，她现在五岁了，已经是大孩子了，不能再把她的玩具拿走。“如果你表现得像个孩子，”我说，“我就把你当孩子对待。”
We made breakfast for the children, then played with them in the snow. We baked, we watched crime dramas and designed beaded bracelets. It was as if I had stepped through a mirror and was living a day in the life I might have had, if I’d stayed on the mountain. But I hadn’t stayed. My life had diverged from my sister’s, and it felt as though there was no common ground between us. The hours passed; it was late afternoon; and still she felt distant from me, still she refused to meet my gaze.
我们给孩子们做早餐，然后和他们到雪地里玩耍。我们烘焙，看犯罪片，设计串珠手镯。那感觉就像穿过一面镜子，体验了一天假如我留在山上很可能会过的人生。但是我没有留下来。我与姐姐的人生有着天壤之别，我们之间似乎毫无共同点。几个小时过去了，到了傍晚时分，她仍然跟我很生分，不愿与我对视。
That moment would stay with me. I would remember it the next day, when I boarded a plane in Salt Lake City, and it would still be on my mind when I landed in London. It was the shock of it that I couldn’t shake. Somehow, it had never occurred to me that my sister might have lived my life before I did.
那一刻将永远伴随着我。第二天在盐湖城登机时，我会忆起它；飞机在伦敦着陆时，我心里仍会想着它。那一刻带来的震撼，我无法摆脱。不知何故，我竟从未意识到，我所经历的一切，姐姐可能在我之前就经历过。
In April I began to do well. I wrote an essay on John Stuart Mill’s concept of self-sovereignty, and my supervisor, Dr. David Runciman, said that if my dissertation was of the same quality, I might be accepted to Cambridge for a PhD. I was stunned: I, who had sneaked into this grand place as an impostor, might now enter through the front door. I set to work on my dissertation, again choosing Mill as the topic.
四月，我开始步入正轨。我写了一篇关于约翰·斯图亚特·穆勒自我主权概念的文章。我的导师大卫·朗西曼博士说，如果我的论文保持同一水准，我就有可能获得在剑桥读博士的资格。我惊呆了：我像一个冒名顶替者，偷偷溜进这座宏伟的殿堂，现在终于可以光明正大地从前门进来了。我开始撰写论文，再次选择穆勒作为主题。
That term, I presented myself to the university like resin to a sculptor. I believed I could be remade, my mind recast. I forced myself to befriend other students, clumsily introducing myself again and again until I had a small circle of friends. Then I set out to obliterate the barriers that separated me from them. I tasted red wine for the first time, and my new friends laughed at my pinched face. I discarded my high-necked blouses and began to wear more fashionable cuts — fitted, often sleeveless, with less restrictive necklines. In photos from this period I’m struck by the symmetry: I look like everyone else.
那个学期，我把自己交给大学，就像把树脂交给雕塑家。我相信自己可以被重塑，思想彻底改变。我强迫自己和其他同学交往，一次又一次向别人笨拙地介绍自己，直到我有了一个小小的朋友圈子。接着我着手清除挡在我和他们之间的障碍。我第一次品尝了红酒，我的新朋友们嘲笑我喝酒时紧绷的脸。我扔掉高领衫，开始穿剪裁更时尚的衣服——修身、通常是无袖的、领口不那么规矩的衣服。在这段时期的照片中，我为这种平衡感到震惊：我和其他人看起来并无两样。
“Shawn used to say that,” she said, fixing her eyes on mine.
“肖恩过去常这么说。”她说道，眼睛紧盯着我的眼睛。
We handed in our final essays for the term, then boarded a plane. On our first evening in Rome, we climbed one of the seven hills and looked out over the metropolis. Byzantine domes hovered over the city like rising balloons. It was nearly dusk; the streets were bathed in amber. It wasn’t the color of a modern city, of steel, glass and concrete. It was the color of sunset. It didn’t look real. Nic asked me what I thought of his home, and that was all I could say: it didn’t look real.
我们提交了最后几篇期末论文，便登上了飞机。在罗马的第一晚，我们爬上了七座山丘中的一座，俯瞰着这座大都市。拜占庭式的圆顶像腾空的气球一样盘旋在城市上空。那时天色已近黄昏，街道沐浴在琥珀色的光辉中。那不是钢、玻璃和混凝土构成的现代城市的颜色，而是夕阳的颜色，看上去如此不真实。尼克问我对他的家乡有何看法，而我只能说：它看上去很不真实。
One afternoon near the end of term, when I was eating lunch in the library cafeteria, I recognized a group of students from my program. They were seated together at a small table. I asked if I could join them, and a tall Italian named Nic nodded. From the conversation I gathered that Nic had invited the others to visit him in Rome during the spring holiday. “You can come, too,” he said.
学期末的一天下午，在图书馆自助餐厅吃午饭时，我认出了与我同一项目的一群学生。他们坐在一张小桌子旁。我问能否加入他们，一个名叫尼克的高个子意大利人点点头。从谈话中我得知尼克邀请其他人在春假期间去罗马找他玩。“你也可以来。”他说。
At breakfast the next morning, the others talked about their families. Someone’s father was a diplomat; another’s was an Oxford don. I was asked about my parents. I said my father owned a junkyard.
第二天早餐时，其他人都在谈论他们的家庭。一个人的父亲是外交官；另一个人的父亲是牛津大学的教授。有人问起我的父母，我说我的父亲有一个废料场。
Nic took us to the conservatory where he’d studied violin. It was in the heart of Rome and was richly furnished, with a grand staircase and resonant halls. I tried to imagine what it would have been like to study in such a place, to walk across marble floors each morning and, day after day, come to associate learning with beauty. But my imagination failed me. I could only imagine the school as I was experiencing it now, as a kind of museum, a relic from someone else’s life.
尼克带我们去了他过去学习小提琴的音乐学院。它坐落在罗马的中心地带，装饰富丽堂皇，有宏伟的楼梯和敞亮的大厅。我试着想象在这样一个地方学习会是怎样的感觉：每天清晨踏过大理石地板，日复一日，将学习与美相联系。但我想象不出来。我只能将我置身的这所学校想象成一座博物馆，目之所见皆是别人生活的遗迹。
For two days we explored Rome, a city that is both a living organism and a fossil. Bleached structures from antiquity lay like dried bones, embedded in pulsating cables and thrumming traffic, the arteries of modern life. We visited the Pantheon, the Roman Forum, the Sistine Chapel. My instinct was to worship, to venerate. That was how I felt toward the whole city: that it should be behind glass, adored from a distance, never touched, never altered. My companions moved through the city differently, aware of its significance but not subdued by it. They were not hushed by the Trevi Fountain; they were not silenced by the Colosseum. Instead, as we moved from one relic to the next, they debated philosophy — Hobbes and Descartes, Aquinas and Machiavelli. There was a kind of symbiosis in their relationship to these grand places: they gave life to the ancient architecture by making it the backdrop of their discourse, by refusing to worship at its altar as if it were a dead thing.
我们在罗马游览了两天。这座城市既生机勃勃，又犹如化石。褪色的古老建筑仿佛风干的骨头，嵌在现代生活的动脉——搏动的电缆和繁忙的交通中。我们参观了万神殿、古罗马广场和西斯廷教堂。我本能地产生了膜拜敬仰之情。这就是我对整座城市的感受：它应该被放置在玻璃后面，让世人从远处瞻仰，不可触摸，亘古不变。我的同伴们不一样，他们在这座城市中穿梭，意识到它的重要性，但并未被它征服。他们没有在许愿池边安静下来，也没有在罗马斗兽场保持沉默。相反，在我们参观一个个历史遗迹的路上，他们讨论起哲学——霍布斯和笛卡尔，阿奎那和马基雅维利。他们与这些宏伟的建筑之间存在一种共生关系：他们将古老的建筑作为他们谈话的背景，给予它们生命；他们拒绝将它们视为死物，在它们的祭坛前顶礼膜拜。
For the rest of the week, I experienced Rome as they did: as a place of history, but also as a place of life, of food and traffic and conflict and thunder. The city was no longer a museum; it was as vivid to me as Buck’s Peak. The Piazza del Popolo. The Baths of Caracalla. Castel Sant’Angelo. These became as real to my mind as the Princess, the red railway car, the Shear. The world they represented, of philosophy, science, literature — an entire civilization — took on a life that was distinct from the life I had known. At the Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Antica, I stood before Caravaggio’s Judith Beheading Holofernes and did not once think about chickens.
接下来的一周里，我像他们一样体验了罗马：一个历史圣地，也是一个充满生活气息、美食、交通、冲突和雷声的地方。这座城市不再是一座博物馆，对我而言它像巴克峰一样鲜活。罗马人民广场。卡拉卡拉浴场。圣天使堡。在我脑海中，这些就像印第安公主、红色火车车厢和大剪刀一样真实。它们所代表的世界——包含哲学、科学和文学的整个文明——与我熟知的生活截然不同。在国立古代艺术美术馆，我站在卡拉瓦乔《朱迪斯砍下霍洛芬斯的头颅》面前，丝毫没有联想到杀鸡。
On the third night there was a rainstorm. I stood on Nic’s balcony and watched streaks of lightning race across the sky, claps of thunder chasing them. It was like being on Buck’s Peak, to feel such power in the earth and sky.
第三晚来了一场暴风雨。我站在尼克家的阳台上，看着闪电划破长空，听着隆隆雷声。那一刻我恍若回到了巴克峰，感受到天地间如此巨大的威力。
The next morning was cloudless. We took a picnic of wine and pastries to the grounds of the Villa Borghese. The sun was hot, the pastries ambrosial. I could not remember ever feeling more present. Someone said something about Hobbes, and without thinking I recited a line from Mill. It seemed the natural thing, to bring this voice from the past into a moment so saturated with the past already, even if the voice was mixed with my own. There was a pause while everyone checked to see who had spoken, then someone asked which text the line was from, and the conversation moved forward.
第二天一早，万里无云。我们在博尔盖塞别墅的庭院里野餐，喝红酒，吃点心。阳光灿烂，糕点美味。当时那种感觉超越一切。有人提到霍布斯，我不假思索地背出穆勒的一句名言。将这个声音从过去带到一个浸淫了历史的时刻，似乎再自然不过，即使这个声音与我自己的声音交织在一起。大家停顿了一下，看看是谁说的，然后有人问起这句话的出处，于是谈话继续。
I was still breathing in the fustiness of ancient stone when I arrived in Cambridge. I rushed up the staircase, anxious to check my email, knowing there would be a message from Drew. When I opened my laptop, I saw that Drew had written, but so had someone else: my sister.
回到剑桥，我还在呼吸着古老砖石的历史气息。我知道会有德鲁的来信，冲上楼，急着查看电子邮件。我打开笔记本电脑，看见的确有德鲁的来信，还有一封信来自另一个人：我姐姐。
I don’t know what caused the transformation, why suddenly I could engage with the great thinkers of the past, rather than revere them to the point of muteness. But there was something about that city, with its white marble and black asphalt, crusted with history, ablaze in traffic lights, that showed me I could admire the past without being silenced by it.
我不知道是什么引起了这种转变，为什么突然间我可以与过去伟大的思想家们交流，而不再单纯对他们肃然起敬。这座城市中，陈年的白色大理石和黑色沥青在红绿灯的照耀下熠熠生辉，让我看到一种东西，指引我可以欣赏过去，却不再沉默不语。
Audrey said she should have stopped Shawn many years ago, before he could do to me what he’d done to her. She said that when she was young, she’d wanted to tell Mother, to ask for help, but she’d thought Mother wouldn’t believe her. She’d been right. Before her wedding, she’d experienced nightmares and flashbacks, and she’d told Mother about them. Mother had said the memories were false, impossible. I should have helped you, Audrey wrote. But when my own mother didn’t believe me, I stopped believing myself.
奥黛丽说，多年前她就该阻止肖恩，这样在她之后我就不会受到同样的伤害。她说小时候，她想告诉母亲，寻求母亲的帮助，但她觉得母亲不会相信她。她说得没错。结婚前，她噩梦连连，记忆闪回，于是她告诉了母亲。母亲说那些回忆都是假的、不可能的。我本该帮你，奥黛丽写道，但是连我自己的母亲都不相信我，我也就不再相信自己了。[3]【注：[3]根据原书注释，此处及下文中的楷体字均表示由邮件或信息转述而来，保留其大意，而非直接引用。】
I opened Audrey’s message. It was written in one long paragraph, with little punctuation and many spelling errors, and at first I fixated on these grammatical irregularities as a way to mute the text. But the words would not be hushed; they shouted at me from the screen.
我打开奥黛丽的消息。长长的一整段，没有多少标点符号，有很多拼写错误。起初，我的注意力集中在这些不规范的语法上，以为它们会削弱文本的声音。然而那些文字非但没有被掩盖，反而像是从屏幕上对我大喊大叫。
It was a mistake she was going to correct. I believe God will hold me accountable if I don’t stop Shawn from hurting anyone else, she wrote. She was going to confront him, and our parents, and she was asking me to stand with her. I am doing this with or without you. But without you, I will probably lose.
她说她要纠正这个错误。她写道：我相信，如果我不去阻止肖恩伤害他人，上帝会追究我的责任。她要和他以及我们的父母当面对质，她问我能否和她站在一起。不管有没有你，我都会这么做。但是没有你，我可能会输。
I sat in the dark for a long time. I resented her for writing me. I felt she had torn me from one world, one life, where I was happy, and dragged me back into another.
我在黑暗中坐了许久。我恨她给我写了这么一封信。感觉她把我从一个生活快乐的世界里拽了出来，重新拉回另一个世界。
I typed a response. I told her she was right, that of course we should stop Shawn, but I asked her to do nothing until I could return to Idaho. I don’t know why I asked her to wait, what benefit I thought time would yield. I don’t know what I thought would happen when we talked to our parents, but I understood instinctively what was at stake. As long as we had never asked, it was possible to believe that they would help. To tell them was to risk the unthinkable: it was to risk learning that they already knew.
我写了回信。我告诉她，她说得对，我们当然应该阻止肖恩，但我让她先按兵不动，等我回爱达荷州再说。我不知道我为何让她先等等，等一段时间会有什么好处。我不知道与父母交谈会有何结果，但直觉告诉我情况不妙。只要我们还没有问，就有可能相信他们不会放任不管。告诉他们这些是在冒难以想象的风险，意味着我们心里明白他们早就知道此事。
Audrey did not wait, not even a day. The next morning she showed my email to Mother. I cannot imagine the details of that conversation, but I know that for Audrey it must have been a tremendous relief, laying my words before our mother, finally able to say, I’m not crazy. It happened to Tara, too.
奥黛丽没有等待，甚至一天也没等。第二天早上，她给母亲看了我的电子邮件。我无法想象那次谈话的细节，但我知道对奥黛丽来说，把我的话摆在母亲面前，一定是一种巨大的解脱。她终于可以说：我没有疯，这事也发生在塔拉身上。
It is painful to face reality, she wrote. To realize there was something ugly, and I refused to see it.
面对现实是痛苦的，她写道，意识到有丑恶的东西存在，而我对此视而不见。
Don’t blame yourself, I told her. Your mind was never the same after the accident.
别自责，我告诉她，自从那次车祸后，你的思想就和以前不一样了。
For all of that day, Mother pondered it. Then she decided she had to hear the words from me. It was late afternoon in Idaho, nearly midnight in England, when my mother, unsure how to place an international call, found me online. The words on the screen were small, confined to a tiny text box in the corner of the browser, but somehow they seemed to swallow the room. She told me she had read my letter. I braced myself for her rage.
那一整天，母亲都在思考这件事，然后她决定听我亲口说出这些话。那是爱达荷州的傍晚时分，英国已近午夜，母亲不确定如何拨打国际长途，便上网联系我。屏幕上的文字很小，局限在浏览器角落的一个小文本框里，但不知怎的，它们似乎吞噬了整个房间。她告诉我她已经读了我的信。我鼓起勇气，做好了她发火的准备。
I had to read those lines a number of times before I understood them. Before I realized that she was not angry, not blaming me, or trying to convince me I had only imagined. She believed me.
这些话我读了很多遍才明白。我意识到她没有生气，没有责备我，也没有试图说服我那不过是我的想象。她相信了我。
Maybe, she said. But sometimes I think we choose our illnesses, because they benefit us in some way.
也许吧，她说，但有时我觉得是我们选择了疾病，因为它们在某种程度上对我们有益。
Shawn always said you picked the fights, and I guess I wanted to believe that, because it was easier. Because you were strong and rational, and anyone could see that Shawn was not.
肖恩总说是你找的茬，我猜我宁愿意相信是这样，因为这更容易。因为你坚强又理智，而任何人都能看出来肖恩不是这样。
I asked Mother why she’d never stopped Shawn from hurting me.
我问母亲为什么她从来不去阻止肖恩伤害我。
That didn’t make sense. If I had seemed rational, why had Mother believed Shawn when he’d told her I was picking fights? That I needed to be subdued, disciplined.
这个说不通。如果我看上去很理智，那么肖恩告诉母亲是我找茬打架时，她为什么相信他呢？怎么我成了需要被制服、被管教的那个？
Because you were so bullied by Dad, I said. You were not powerful in the house. Dad ran things, and he was not going to help us.
因为你太受爸爸的欺负，我说，你在家里没有实权。一切都是爸爸说了算，而他是不会帮助我们的。
I’m a mother, she said. Mothers protect. And Shawn was so damaged.
我是个母亲，她说，母亲要保护自己的孩子。肖恩承受了太多伤痛。
I had never heard Mother admit that Dad might be mentally ill. Years before, I had told her what I’d learned in my psychology class about bipolar disorder and schizophrenia, but she had shrugged it off. Hearing her say it now felt liberating. The illness gave me something to attack besides my father, so when Mother asked why I hadn’t come to her sooner, why I hadn’t asked for help, I answered honestly.
我从未听母亲亲口承认过爸爸可能患有精神疾病。几年前，我告诉她我在心理学课上学到的关于躁郁症和精神分裂症的知识，但她对此不屑一顾。听到她现在这么说，我感到无比轻松。这种疾病也给了我一些反击父亲的勇气，所以当母亲问我为什么不早点儿找她，为什么不寻求帮助时，我如实作答。
I am stronger now, she said. I no longer run scared.
我现在更强大了，她说，我不再因害怕而逃避了。
He will, she wrote. But it’s hard for him. It reminds him of the damage his bipolar has caused to our family.
他会的，她写道，但这对他来说很难。这会让他想起自己的躁郁症给我们家造成的伤害。
I wanted to say that she was also my mother but I didn’t. I don’t think Dad will believe any of this, I typed.
我想说她也是我的母亲，但我没有说。我输入：我觉得爸爸不会相信这些。
When I read this, I imagined my mother as a young woman, brilliant and energetic, but also anxious and complying. Then the image changed, her body thinning, elongating, her hair flowing, long and silver.
读到这些文字，我脑海中又浮现出年轻时的母亲，她头脑聪颖、活力四射，但同时又忧心忡忡、顺从听话。接着她的形象变了，她的身体变得又瘦又长，一头长长的银发随风飘动。
She is you, I said.
她就是你，我写道。
She is, Mother said. Like I was.
是的，母亲说，就像我以前一样。
Emily is being bullied, I wrote.
埃米莉正受欺负，我写道。
She is me. But we know better now. We can rewrite the story.
她就是我。但现在我们更明白了，我们可以重写故事。
I asked about a memory. It was from the weeks before I’d left for BYU, after Shawn had had a particularly bad night. He’d brought Mother to tears, then plopped onto the sofa and turned on the TV. I’d found her sobbing at the kitchen table, and she’d asked me not to go to BYU. “You’re the only one strong enough to handle him,” she’d said. “I can’t, and your father can’t. It has to be you.”
我问起她记忆中的一件事。那是在我去杨百翰大学上学的前几周，肖恩经历了特别糟糕的夜晚。他把母亲惹哭了，然后坐到沙发上，打开电视。我发现母亲在厨房餐桌旁抽泣，她叫我不要去杨百翰大学。“你是唯一足够强大，能对付他的人，”她当时说，“我对付不了他，你父亲也不行，只有你可以。”
Yes, I remember that.
是的，我记得。
I typed slowly, reluctantly: Do you remember telling me not to go to school, that I was the only one who could handle Shawn?
我慢慢地、极不情愿地敲出下面的文字：你不让我去上学，说我是唯一一个能对付肖恩的人，你还记得这些吗？
There was a pause, then more words appeared — words I hadn’t known I needed to hear, but once I saw them, I realized I’d been searching my whole life for them.
停顿了一下，接着出现了更多的文字——我本不知道自己需要听到这些话，但当我看到它们，我才意识到我毕生都在寻找它们。
I lived a lifetime in the moment I read those lines, a life that was not the one I had actually lived. I became a different person, who remembered a different childhood. I didn’t understand the magic of those words then, and I don’t understand it now. I know only this: that when my mother told me she had not been the mother to me that she wished she’d been, she became that mother for the first time.
读到这句话的那一刻，我似乎度过了漫长的一生，但那并非我真实的生活。我变成了另一个人，记忆中有不一样的童年。当时我不明白这些文字的魔力，现在也不明白。我只知道一点：当母亲告诉我，说她没有像自己所希望的那样做一个好母亲时，她才第一次成了我的母亲。
You were my child. I should have protected you.
你是我的孩子，我本该好好保护你。
Mother and I spoke only once about that conversation, on the phone, a week later. “It’s being dealt with,” she said. “I told your father what you and your sister said. Shawn will get help.”
那次谈话我和母亲只提过一次，是在一星期后的电话里。“我们正在处理这件事，”她说，“我把你和姐姐的话都转告了你父亲。肖恩会得到帮助。”
I love you, I wrote, and closed my laptop.
我爱你。写下这句话后，我合上了笔记本电脑。
I put the issue from my mind. My mother had taken up the cause. She was strong. She had built that business, with all those people working for her, and it dwarfed my father’s business, and all the other businesses in the whole town; she, that docile woman, had a power in her the rest of us couldn’t contemplate. And Dad. He had changed. He was softer, more prone to laugh. The future could be different from the past. Even the past could be different from the past, because my memories could change: I no longer remembered Mother listening in the kitchen while Shawn pinned me to the floor, pressing my windpipe. I no longer remembered her looking away.
我将这个问题抛在脑后。母亲已经着手处理这件事。她很强大。她已建立了那么大的事业，有那么多人为她干活，让父亲的生意和全镇其他人的生意都相形见绌。她，一个看似温顺的女人，有着一股他人无法想象的力量。还有爸爸。他也变了，变得更平和，更爱笑。未来可能会和过去不同。甚至过去也可能与过去不同，因为我的记忆可能会变：当肖恩把我按倒在地板上，掐着我的喉咙时，我不再记得母亲在厨房里听着，也不再记得她移开了目光。
I told them I’d been poor, I told them I’d been ignorant, and in telling them this I felt not the slightest prick of shame. Only then did I understand where the shame had come from: it wasn’t that I hadn’t studied in a marble conservatory, or that my father wasn’t a diplomat. It wasn’t that Dad was half out of his mind, or that Mother followed him. It had come from having a father who shoved me toward the chomping blades of the Shear, instead of pulling me away from them. It had come from those moments on the floor, from knowing that Mother was in the next room, closing her eyes and ears to me, and choosing, for that moment, not to be my mother at all.
我告诉他们，我曾经贫穷而无知。当我告诉他们这些时，我丝毫不感到羞耻。那时我才明白羞耻感的来源：不是因为我不曾在铺着大理石的音乐学院学习，也不是因为我没有当外交官的父亲；不是因为父亲是半个疯子，也不是因为母亲跟着他亦步亦趋。我的羞耻感源自我有一个将我朝吱嘎作响的大剪刀刀刃推去，而不是将我拉走远离它们的父亲；我的羞耻感源自我躺在地上的那些时刻，源自知道母亲就在隔壁房间闭目塞听，那一刻完全没有选择去尽一个母亲的责任。
My life in Cambridge was transformed — or rather, I was transformed into someone who believed she belonged in Cambridge. The shame I’d long felt about my family leaked out of me almost overnight. For the first time in my life I talked openly about where I’d come from. I admitted to my friends that I’d never been to school. I described Buck’s Peak, with its many junkyards, barns, corrals. I even told them about the root cellar full of supplies in the wheat field, and the gasoline buried near the old barn.
我在剑桥的生活也发生了改变——或者说，我变成了一个相信自己属于剑桥的人。我对家庭长久以来的羞耻感几乎在一夜之间蒸发了。平生第一次我公开谈论自己的家乡。我向朋友们坦承，我从未上过学。我向他们描述巴克峰，描述那里众多的废料场、谷仓和畜栏。我甚至告诉他们，麦田地窖里装满了补给品，旧谷仓附近埋着汽油。
I fashioned a new history for myself. I became a popular dinner guest, with my stories of hunting and horses, of scrapping and fighting mountain fires. Of my brilliant mother, midwife and entrepreneur; of my eccentric father, junkman and zealot. I thought I was finally being honest about the life I’d had before. It wasn’t the truth exactly, but it was true in a larger sense: true to what would be, in the future, now that everything had changed for the better. Now that Mother had found her strength.
我为自己创造了一段新历史。我成了晚餐上备受欢迎的客人，讲述着各种趣闻轶事：打猎骑马、拆解废料、扑灭山火。我说起自己才华横溢的母亲——助产士和企业家，又谈及性情古怪的父亲——废品商和狂热分子。我想我终于可以坦然地面对过去的生活了。那并不完全是事实，但从更广泛的意义上讲，的确如此：未来真的会更好。现在一切都已变得更好。现在母亲也已找到了她的力量。
The past was a ghost, insubstantial, unaffecting. Only the future had weight.
过去是一个幽灵，虚无缥缈，没什么影响力。只有未来才有分量。
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