The summer Lydia fell in the lake, the summer Marilyn went missing: all of them had tried to forget it. They did not talk about it; they never mentioned it. But it lingered, like a bad smell. It had suffused them so deeply it could never wash out.
莉迪亚小时候掉进湖里的那年夏天，正是玛丽琳失踪的时候。大家都想忘记这两件事，他们从不讨论，从不提起，但这两件事的阴影犹如难闻的味道，始终徘徊不去，时间一长，就再也无法冲刷干净。
Every morning, James called the police. Did they need more photographs of Marilyn? Was there any more information he could give? Were there any more people he could call? By mid-May, when Marilyn had been gone for two weeks, the officer in charge of the case told him, gently, “Mr. Lee, we appreciate all the help you’ve provided. And we’re keeping an eye out for the car. I can’t promise we’ll find anything, though. Your wife took clothes with her. She packed suitcases. She took her keys.” Officer Fiske, even then, hated to give out false hopes. “This kind of thing happens sometimes. Sometimes people are just too different.” He did not say mixed, or interracial, or mismatched, but he didn’t have to. James heard it anyway, and he would remember Officer Fiske very clearly, even a decade later.
每天早晨，詹姆斯都会打电话询问警察，是否需要更多玛丽琳的照片？他还可以提供哪些信息？还需要给谁打电话？五月中旬，玛丽琳已经失踪了两个星期，负责此案的警官礼貌地告诉詹姆斯：“李先生，感谢你提供的所有帮助。我们一直在寻找你妻子的汽车，但我无法保证我们一定能有所发现。你的妻子带走了她的衣服，打包在手提箱里，她还拿走了钥匙。”即便在那时，菲斯克警官也不愿给人虚假的希望，“这种事情时有发生，有的人就是这么特立独行。”他没说“不合群”，更没有断言这是“种族差异”或者“婚姻不合”的结果，而且，他也没有必要提及这些。不过，詹姆斯还是听出了他的言外之意，所以，即使过了十年，他依然对菲斯克警官印象深刻。
Lydia and Nath remembered it this way: weeks passed and their mother was still gone. At recess the other children whispered and teachers gave them pitying looks and it was a relief when school finally ended. After that their father stayed in his study and let them watch television all day, from Mighty Mouse and Underdog in the morning to I’ve Got a Secret late at night. When Lydia asked, once, what he did in the study, he sighed and said, “Oh, I just putter around.” She thought of her father wearing soft rubber shoes and taking small steps on the smooth floor: putter putter putter. “It means reading books and things, stupid,” Nath said, and the soft rubber shoes turned into her father’s plain brown ones with the fraying laces.
莉迪亚和内斯的记忆是这样的：几周过去了，母亲依旧杳无音讯。课间休息时，别的孩子在一旁窃窃私语，老师们向他俩投去同情的目光，直到暑假来临，他们才得以放松。暑假期间，父亲自己每天待在书房，让他们在外面看电视，从早晨的《太空飞鼠》和《超狗任务》一直看到深夜播出的《我有一个秘密》，一看就是一整天。有一次，莉迪亚问父亲在书房干什么。他叹息一声，说：“噢，闲荡。”她仿佛听到父亲穿着软橡胶底鞋在光滑的地板上溜达的声音，啪嗒、啪嗒、啪嗒。“闲荡的意思是读读书什么的，蠢货。”内斯说。于是，莉迪亚想象中的软橡胶底鞋变成了父亲的棕色平纹鞋，配着灰色的鞋带。
To the children, he said, “The police are looking. They’ll find her. She’ll come home soon.”
他对孩子们说：“警察正在找。他们会找到她的，她很快就能回家。”
What James actually did, each morning, was take a small envelope from his breast pocket. After the police had gone that first night with a snapshot of Marilyn and assurances they’d do all they could, after he had scooped the children up and tucked them in bed with their clothes still on, he had noticed the shredded scraps of paper in the bedroom wastebasket. One by one he plucked them from the cotton balls, the old newspapers, the tissues smudged with his wife’s lipsticked kiss. He had pieced them together on the kitchen table, matching torn edge to torn edge. I always had one kind of life in mind and things have turned out very differently. The bottom half of the sheet was blank, but he hadn’t stopped until every fragment was placed. She had not even signed it.
那么，詹姆斯到底在做什么呢？每天早晨，他都要从前胸口袋里拿出一个小信封。玛丽琳失踪当晚，警察拿走了她的一张照片，承诺说他们会尽力寻找，然后，詹姆斯把孩子们赶上楼去睡觉——连衣服都忘了让他们脱。接着，他发现卧室的废纸篓里有一些撕碎的纸片，他从棉花球、旧报纸和玛丽琳擦拭唇膏的纸巾里面，把碎纸片全都挑拣出来，拼在一起。我头脑里总是憧憬着另一种生活，但实际情况却事与愿违。那张字条的下半部分是空白的，但詹姆斯也把这部分拼好了，他发现她甚至都没有署名。
He read the note over and over, staring at the tiny cracks of wood grain snaking between the patches of white, until the sky outside shifted from navy to gray. Then he slipped the scraps of paper into an envelope. Every day — though he promised himself this time would be the last time — he settled Nath and Lydia in front of the television, locked the door to his study, and pulled out the shreds of note again. He read it while the children moved from cartoons to soap operas to game shows, while they sprawled, unsmiling, in front of Bewitched and Let’s Make a Deal and To Tell the Truth, while — despite Johnny Carson’s best zingers — they sank into sleep.
他把字条读了一遍又一遍，对着纸片拼缝间露出的桌面木纹发呆，直到天色从藏蓝变为深灰。然后，他把这堆纸片塞进一个信封。每天——虽然他总是向自己保证说，这是最后一次了——他都会把内斯和莉迪亚放在电视机前，关上书房的门，拿出那堆纸片。孩子们看动画片、肥皂剧和竞技节目的时候，他就闷在那里读字条。内斯和莉迪亚无精打采、面无表情地看着《家有仙妻》《交易》和《真相》——妙语如珠的约翰尼·卡森也没法让他们振作——逐渐陷入沉睡。
When they had married, he and Marilyn had agreed to forget about the past. They would start a new life together, the two of them, with no looking back. With Marilyn gone, James broke that pact again and again. Each time he read the note, he thought of her mother, who had never referred to him by name, only indirectly — to Marilyn — as your fiancé. Whose voice he had heard on their wedding day, echoing out into the marble lobby of the courthouse like an announcement on the P. A. system, so loud heads had turned: It’s not right, Marilyn. You know it’s not right. Who had wanted Marilyn to marry someone more like her. Who had never called them again after their wedding. All this must have come back to Marilyn as she ate at her mother’s table and slept in her mother’s bed: what a mistake she’d made, marrying him. How her mother had been right all along. I have kept all these feelings inside me for a long time, but now, after being in my mother’s house again, I think of her and realize I cannot put them aside any longer. In kindergarten, he had learned how to make a bruise stop hurting: you pressed it over and over with your thumb. The first time it hurt so much your eyes watered. The second time it hurt a little less. The tenth time, it was barely an ache. So he read the note again and again. He remembered everything he could: Marilyn kneeling to lace Nath’s sneaker; Marilyn lifting his collar to slide in the stays. Marilyn as she was that first day in his office: slender and serious and so focused that he didn’t dare look at those eyes directly.
结婚的时候，詹姆斯和玛丽琳曾经约定，忘记过去，共同开启新的生活，别再回头看。而玛丽琳离家出走期间，詹姆斯却一再毁约。每当他拿起字条，就会想起玛丽琳的母亲——她从没叫过他的名字，只是间接地对玛丽琳称呼他“你的未婚夫”。婚礼那天，她母亲的声音在法院大楼的大理石前厅回响，如公众广播一样清晰可闻：“这样不对，玛丽琳。你知道这样不对。”她希望玛丽琳和一个“更像她”的人结婚。婚礼之后，她母亲就再没有给他们打过电话。詹姆斯想，当玛丽琳回到母亲家，在她的桌边吃饭、在她的床上睡觉时，她一定觉得后悔了：她犯了多么大的一个错误，嫁给了他，而她母亲一直是对的。我的这些感受在心底压抑了很久，但是现在，重新造访我母亲的屋子之后，我想到了她，意识到我再也不能继续压抑下去了。上幼儿园的时候，他就学会了如何让挫伤的地方不再疼痛：用拇指不断按压。第一次按下去，你能疼出眼泪。第二次，疼痛略有减轻。第十次，就几乎感觉不到疼了。因此，他不停地读这张字条，竭力回想过往的种种：玛丽琳跪在地上给内斯系鞋带；玛丽琳翻起他的衣领，插入领撑；玛丽琳第一次走进他的办公室，柔弱，严肃，神情专注，当时的他甚至不敢直视她的眼睛。
When he heard the station’s late-night sign-off and the national anthem begin to play, he would slip the scraps of Marilyn’s note into the envelope and tuck it back into his shirt pocket. Then he tiptoed into the living room, where the children lay curled up together on the floor by the sofa, illuminated by the test pattern on the television. The Indian at the top of the screen glared as James carried first Lydia, then Nath, to bed. Then — because, without Marilyn, the bed felt too empty, like a barren plateau — he returned to the living room, swaddling himself in an old crocheted afghan on the sofa and studying the circles on the screen until the signal cut off. In the morning, it all began again.
深夜，当他听到电台播音结束，开始放送国歌的时候，就会把玛丽琳的字条碎片塞回信封，放进衬衫口袋，然后蹑手蹑脚走进客厅。孩子们蜷缩在沙发旁的地板上熟睡，他们的身体被电视屏幕上的测试图案照亮。在屏幕上方的印第安人的凝视下，詹姆斯先后把莉迪亚和内斯抱到床上。然后——因为玛丽琳不在，床显得很空，犹如一片荒原——他返回客厅，裹着一件旧羊皮大衣躺在沙发上，盯着电视上的圆形图案直到信号切断为止。第二天早晨，一切又重新开始。
It didn’t stop hurting. His eyes didn’t stop watering.
然而，疼痛并没有消失，他的眼睛也没有停止流泪。
Each morning Lydia and Nath, finding themselves back in their beds, wondered for just a moment if the universe had righted itself: perhaps they might enter the kitchen and find their mother at the stove, waiting for them with love and kisses and hard-boiled eggs. Neither ever mentioned this most tender hope, but each morning, when they met in the kitchen and found no one there but their father, in rumpled pajamas, setting out two empty bowls, they looked at each other and knew. Still gone.
每天清早，莉迪亚和内斯都会发现他们回到了自己的床上，恍然觉得世界被扶正了，重归正轨。好像只要走进厨房，就能看到母亲站在炉子旁边，用爱、亲吻和煮鸡蛋欢迎他们。然而每天早晨，厨房里只有他们的父亲，他穿着皱巴巴的睡衣，在桌上摆下两只空碗。两个孩子面面相觑——她还是没有回来。
They tried to keep busy, trading the marshmallows from their cereal to make breakfast last as long as they could: a pink for an orange, two yellows for a green. At lunchtime, their father made sandwiches, but he never got it right — not enough peanut butter, or not enough jelly, or cut crosswise instead of in triangles like their mother would have. Lydia and Nath, suddenly tactful, said nothing, even at dinner, when there would be peanut butter and jelly again.
他们试图逃避到游戏之中，尽可能地延长早餐的时间——比如交换麦片里掺的棉花糖，一颗粉色的换一颗橙色的，两颗黄色的换一颗绿色的。吃午饭时，他们的父亲会做三明治，但永远做得不好——要么是花生酱没有抹足，要么是果酱不够，或者切成四个方形，而不是像他们的母亲那样切成三角形。虽然如此，莉迪亚和内斯却一下子变得狡猾起来，他们什么都不说，甚至当晚餐桌上再次出现花生酱和果酱时，也听不到他们的抱怨。
Across the street, Mrs. Allen was weeding her garden, and when the car doors opened, she waved them over. “James,” she said. “James, I haven’t seen you in a while.” She held a sharp little rake and wore pink and purple gloves, but when she leaned on the inside of the garden gate and peeled them off, Lydia spotted half-moons of dirt under her fingernails.
街对面，艾伦夫人正在给花园除草，车门一开，她就向他们招手。“詹姆斯，”她说，“詹姆斯，有段时间没见到你了。”她拿着一把小耙子，戴着粉紫相间的手套，然而，当她靠在花园门内侧摘下手套时，眼尖的莉迪亚还是发现了她指甲缝里的半月形污渍。
“Baby,” he hissed. “We can’t swim because of you.”
“宝贝儿，”他低声说，“因为你，我们不能游泳了。”
The only time they left the house was for the grocery store. “Please,” Nath begged one day on the way home, as the lake glided past the car windows. “Please can we swim. Just an hour. Just five minutes. Just ten seconds.” James, his eyes on the rearview mirror, did not slow the car. “You know Lydia doesn’t know how,” he said. “I’m not ready to play lifeguard today.” He turned onto their street, and Nath slid across the backseat and pinched Lydia’s arm.
他们出门的唯一目的是去杂货店。“求你了，”某天回家路上，看到波光粼粼的湖水在车窗外闪过，内斯哀求道，“我们能去游泳吗，就游一个小时……就五分钟……就十秒钟。”詹姆斯望着后视镜，并没有减慢车速。“你知道，莉迪亚还不会游泳，”他说，“而且我今天也没有心情做救生员。”他转弯进了小街，内斯蹭到座位另一头，掐掐莉迪亚的胳膊。
“How is Marilyn?” Mrs. Allen asked. “She’s been away quite a while, hasn’t she? I do hope everything is all right.” Her eyes were excited and bright, as if — Nath thought — she might get a present.
“玛丽琳怎么样了？”艾伦夫人问，“她离开好几天了，对吗？我希望一切还好。”她眼中闪耀着兴奋的光芒，好像——内斯想——有人要送她礼物似的。
“We’re holding down the fort,” James said.
“我们能挺得住。”詹姆斯说。
“How long will she be away?”
“她要离开多久？”
Mrs. Allen peered down at them, but the children, in unison, looked away. Her lips were too thin, her teeth too white. Under the heel of Lydia’s shoe, a wad of bubble gum stuck her to the concrete like glue. Even if she were allowed, she thought, she could not run away.
艾伦夫人凝视着他们，但两个孩子不约而同地扭过头，不去看她。她的嘴唇太薄，牙齿太白。莉迪亚的鞋后跟上粘着一块泡泡糖，像胶水一样把鞋底牢牢黏在地面上。就算得到允许，她想，自己也跑不了。
“You two be good now, and your mother will be home soon, isn’t that right?” Mrs. Allen said. She shifted her thin-lipped smile to James, who didn’t meet her eye. “Our groceries must be melting,” James said, though he and Lydia and Nath knew there was nothing in the bag but a quart of milk, two jars of Jif, and a loaf of bread. “It’s nice seeing you, Vivian.” He tucked the paper sack under his arm and took each of the children by a hand and turned away, and the gum under Lydia’s shoe stretched and snapped, leaving a long, dried-out worm on the sidewalk.
“你们两个要听话，妈妈很快就回家了，不是吗？”艾伦夫人说。她张着薄薄的嘴唇，微笑着看向詹姆斯，詹姆斯没有迎接她的目光。“我们买的吃的一定化冻了。”詹姆斯说。但他和两个孩子都知道，他们的购物袋里，除了一夸脱牛奶、两瓶花生酱和一条面包之外，别无他物。“很高兴见到你，薇薇安。”他把袋子夹在胳膊底下，拉着孩子们的手转身走开，莉迪亚鞋底的口香糖被扯了起来，又猛然断掉，在人行道上留下一条又长又干的印痕。
James glanced down at the children and hesitated. “Indefinitely,” he said. Beside him, Nath kicked Mrs. Allen’s gate with the toe of his sneaker. “Don’t do that, Nath. You’re leaving a scuff.”
詹姆斯瞥了一眼孩子们，迟疑片刻。“不确定。”他说。站在他旁边的内斯用帆布鞋的鞋尖对准艾伦夫人的花园门踢了一脚。“别这样，内斯。会把鞋踢坏的。”
At dinner, Nath asked, “What does indefinitely mean?”
晚饭时，内斯问：“‘不确定’是什么意思？”
Their father looked suddenly at the ceiling, as if Nath had pointed out a bug and he wanted to find it before it ran away. Lydia’s eyes went hot, as if she were staring into the oven. Nath, remorseful, prodded his sandwich with his knuckle, squeezing peanut butter onto the tablecloth, but their father didn’t notice.
他们的父亲突然望向天花板，似乎内斯说的是“天花板上有虫子”，而他要在虫子逃走之前找到它。莉迪亚觉得眼睛一热，仿佛面前有座火炉。内斯懊悔地屈起指头，戳戳他的三明治，结果把里面的花生酱挤到了桌布上，但他们的父亲并未察觉。
Lydia and Nath both knew he was lying, and they understood that this was how things would be for a long time.
莉迪亚和内斯都知道他在说谎，但他们理解，一直以来，事情都是这样的。
“I want you to forget everything Mrs. Allen said,” James said finally. “She’s a silly woman and she doesn’t know your mother at all. I want you to pretend we never even talked to her.” He patted their hands and tried to smile. “This isn’t anyone’s fault. Especially not yours.”
“我希望你们忘记艾伦夫人说的每一句话。”詹姆斯最后说，“她是个傻女人，她根本不了解你们的母亲。我希望你们假装我们根本没有和她说过话。”他拍拍孩子们的手，挤出一个微笑，“这不是任何人的错，尤其与你们无关。”
The weather grew warm and sticky. Every morning Nath counted up the number of days his mother had been gone: Twenty-seven. Twenty-eight. Twenty-nine. He was tired of staying inside in the stale air, tired of the television, tired of his sister, who more and more stared glassy-eyed at the screen in silence. What was there to say? Their mother’s absence gnawed at them quietly, a dull and spreading hurt. One morning in early June, when Lydia nodded off during a commercial break, he tiptoed toward the front door. Their father had told them not to leave the house, but the porch steps, he decided, were still the house.
天气变得温暖而潮湿。每天早晨，内斯都会数数母亲离家后又过了多少天。二十七。二十八。二十九。他厌倦了待在空气污浊的室内，厌倦了电视，厌倦了他的妹妹——她沉默地盯着电视的眼神越来越呆滞。还有什么可说的呢？母亲的失踪无声地噬咬着他们的心，那是一种四处蔓延的钝痛。六月初的一个早晨，莉迪亚正在电视广告的间隙打盹，内斯踮着脚朝前门走去。虽然父亲告诉他们不要离开家，但他认为前廊下的台阶仍然属于家的范围。
At the far end of the street, Jack perched on his own porch railing, chin propped on bent-up knees. Ever since that day at the pool, Nath had not spoken to Jack, not even hi. When they got off the school bus together, Nath tugged at the straps of his bookbag, walking home as fast as he could. At recess, if he saw Jack coming toward him, he ran to the other side of the playground. It was starting to be a habit, disliking Jack. Now, though, as Jack turned his head and spotted him and bounded down the street, Nath stayed put. Talking to anyone — even Jack — was better than more silence.
在小街的那一头，杰克坐在自己家的门廊上，蜷起膝盖支着下巴。自从在游泳池遭到取笑那天开始，内斯就没和杰克说过话，连招呼都没打过。如果他们恰好一同走下校车，内斯会抓紧书包带子，以最快的速度走回家。课间休息时，如果看到杰克朝自己走来，他会跑到操场的另一头。对杰克的厌恶已经开始形成习惯。然而现在，当看到杰克先是跑到街上，接着又转过头来发现自己的时候，内斯却留在了原地。他想，无论是和谁聊聊天——甚至杰克——都比沉默好得多。
“Want one?” Jack asked when he reached the steps. Nestled in his outstretched palm: a half-dozen red candies, fish-shaped, the size of his thumb. Head to tail, tail to head, they glistened like jewels. Jack grinned, and even the tips of his ears perked up. “Got them at the five-and-dime. Ten cents a scoop.”
“来一块？”杰克走过来问。他摊开的掌心里有五六块红色的糖果，鱼的形状，像他的拇指那么大，它们首尾相衔，仿佛一串闪闪发光的手链。杰克咧开嘴笑起来，连他的耳朵尖似乎都在动：“在小卖部买的，十美分一大把。”
Instantly Nath was flooded with intense longing: for the shelves of scissors and paste and crayons, the bins of bouncy balls and wax lips and rubber rats, the foil-wrapped chocolate bars lined up at the front counter, and, by the register, the big glass jar of ruby-colored candy, the cherry scent wafting out the moment you lifted the lid.
内斯瞬间对小卖部充满了强烈的向往，那里的货架上摆着剪刀、胶水和蜡笔，罐子里装着弹力球、“蜡唇”牌糖果和橡皮老鼠，前台上排列着锡纸包装的巧克力条，收银台旁边的大玻璃罐里盛满了红宝石色的糖果，掀起盖子就会飘出樱桃的味道。
“You’ll be okay,” Jack said suddenly. He leaned closer to Nath, as if he were telling a secret. “My mom says kids only need one parent. She says if my dad doesn’t care enough to see me, it’s his loss, not mine.”
“你们会没事的。”杰克突然说。他朝内斯斜靠过来，摆出讲述秘密一样的姿势，“我妈说，小孩只需要一个父母。她说，要是我爸不愿意见我，那是他的损失，不是我的。”
Jack bit the head off one of the fish and held out his hand again. “They’re good.” Close up, Jack’s eyelashes were the same sandy color as his hair, the tips golden where they caught the sunlight. Nath slipped one of the candies into his mouth and let the sweetness seep into him and counted the freckles on Jack’s cheek: nine.
内斯咬掉一块鱼形糖果的头部，再次向杰克伸出手，顺便评价道：“这种糖很好吃。”他发现，靠近了看，杰克的睫毛和他的头发一样都是浅棕色，发梢一接触阳光，就变成了金色。内斯把一块糖塞进嘴巴，让甜味渗进舌面。他数了数杰克脸上的雀斑：九颗。
Nath’s tongue went stiff and thick, like a piece of meat. Suddenly he could not swallow. A trickle of syrupy spit nearly choked him, and he spat the half-chewed candy into the grass.
内斯的舌头一僵，变得像一块肉那样厚重笨拙，他突然无法吞咽了，差点被嘴里的糖浆呛到，他连忙把融化了一半的糖果吐在草丛中。
“Shut up,” he hissed. “You — you shut up.” He spat again, for good measure, trying to expel the taste of cherry. Then he stumbled to his feet and back inside, slamming the door so hard that the screen shook. Behind him, Jack lingered at the bottom of the steps, looking down at the fish trapped inside his fist. Later on, Nath would forget exactly what Jack had said to make him so angry. He would remember only the anger itself, which smoldered as if it had always been there.
“闭嘴，”他咬牙切齿地说，“你——你闭嘴。”他又使劲啐了一口，试图清除口腔里的樱桃味。然后，他跌跌撞撞地跑回家，用力甩上门，连门上的隔板都跟着震动起来。杰克站在台阶下面，怅然地看着困在他手中的“小鱼”。后来，内斯忘记了当时杰克说了什么令他火冒三丈的话，他只记得那种愤怒本身——不疾不徐却余温犹在。
Then, a few days later, the most wonderful distraction arrived — for Nath, at least. One morning Nath turned on the television, but there were no cartoons. There was Walter Cronkite, serene at his desk just as if he were doing the evening news — but it was barely eight A. M., and his desk stood outside, the Cape Kennedy wind ruffling his papers and his hair. A rocket stood poised on the launchpad behind him; at the bottom of the screen, a countdown clock ticked. It was the launch of Gemini 9. Had Nath known the word, he would have thought: surreal. When the rocket shot upward in a billow of sulfur-colored smoke, he crept so close to the television that his nose smudged the glass. The counters on the bottom of the screen showed impossible numbers: seven thousand miles an hour, nine thousand, ten. He had not known anything could fly so high.
几天后，电视观众们迎来了一项奇妙的消遣——至少对内斯而言是这样。一天上午，内斯打开电视，发现没播动画片。这时，沃尔特·克朗凯特出现在屏幕上，他沉静地坐在桌边，像是在主持晚间新闻——然而当时还不到上午八点，而且，他的桌子摆在室外，肯尼迪角的风吹乱了桌上的文件和他的头发。他身后的发射架上竖立着一枚火箭，电视屏幕的顶端，有一只倒计时的钟表。等待发射的是“双子座九号”。如果当时内斯知道“超现实”这个词，肯定会用它来形容这些电视画面给他的感觉。看到火箭向上发射时喷出的硫黄色巨大烟尘，他缓缓爬到电视旁，鼻子几乎贴在了屏幕上。屏幕底部的计数器变换跳跃，显示出一串匪夷所思的数字：七千英里每小时、九千英里每小时、一万英里每小时。他根本想象不出什么东西会飞得如此之高。
All morning Nath absorbed the news reports, savoring each new term like a fancy bonbon: Rendezvous. Orbital map. Lydia curled up on the sofa and went to sleep while, all afternoon, Nath repeated Gemini. Gemini. GEM-in-i. Like a magic spell. Long after the rocket faded into blue, the camera stayed trained on the sky, on the fading plume of white it left behind. For the first time in a month, he forgot, for a moment, about his mother. Up there — eighty-five miles high, ninety, ninety-five, the counter said — everything on earth would be invisible. Mothers who disappeared, fathers who didn’t love you, kids who mocked you — everything would shrink to pinpoints and vanish. Up there: nothing but stars.
整个上午，内斯全神贯注在火箭发射的新闻报道上，犹如吸吮糖果一般品味着每一个新名词：会合对接、轨道图。下午，莉迪亚蜷在沙发上睡觉，内斯则不停地念叨着“双子座”、“双子座”、“双——子——座”。好像这是一句魔咒。火箭在蓝天中消失了很久之后，摄像镜头依然对着天空深处——那里有火箭留下的白色航迹。一个月来，内斯第一次暂时忘记了他的母亲。在上面——高度八十五英里、九十英里、九十五英里，计数器上显示——地球上的一切都会隐去，包括那些离家出走的母亲、不爱你的父亲和嘲笑你的小孩——所有东西都会收缩成针尖大小，然后完全消失。在上面，除却星辰之外，别无他物。
At lunch, while they ate their peanut butter sandwiches, Nath said, “The astronauts eat shrimp cocktail and beef stew and pineapple cake.” At dinner, he said, “Gene is the youngest man ever to go into space, and they’re going to do the longest spacewalk ever.” In the morning, as his father poured cereal that Nath was too excited to eat, he said, “The astronauts wear iron pants to protect their legs from the boosters.”
午饭时，他们吃的是花生酱三明治。内斯在餐桌前说：“宇航员吃的是鲜虾蛊和炖牛肉，还有菠萝蛋糕。”晚饭时，他说：“吉恩是有史以来进入太空的最年轻的宇航员，他们准备完成距离最长的一次太空行走。”翌日早晨，他父亲冲麦片时，内斯激动得顾不上吃，他说：“宇航员穿着铁皮裤子，保护他们的腿不被助推器伤害。”
For the next day and a half, despite Lydia’s complaints, Nath refused to switch to I Love Lucy reruns or Father Knows Best. He began to refer to the astronauts — Tom Stafford and Gene Cernan — by first name, as if they were friends. As the first transmission from the astronauts was patched through, Lydia heard only garbled, scratchy gibberish, as if the voices had been pressed through a grinder. Nath, however, had no trouble making out the words: Gene, breathless, whispering, “Boy, it sure is beautiful out here.” NASA had no television feed of the men in orbit, so the station aired a simulation: an actor on wires, a prop set on a soundstage in Missouri. But when the space-suited figure lumbered out of the capsule and floated gracefully, effortlessly upward — feet to the sky, tethered by nothing — Nath forgot it wasn’t real. He forgot everything. He forgot to breathe.
接下来的一天半里，无视莉迪亚的抱怨，内斯拒绝换台，不许她看《我爱露西》的重播或者《爸爸最明白》。他开始直呼宇航员们的名字，汤姆·斯塔福德、吉恩·塞尔南，把他们当成多年好友。宇航员对地球的第一次通话开启后，莉迪亚觉得她听到的只是一串混乱、沙哑的胡言乱语，宇航员的声音像是在研磨机里粉碎过一样难听。然而内斯却毫不费力地听懂了。吉恩激动地小声说：“伙计，外面真美。”NASA没有传回在轨人员的电视信号，所以，电视台播出的是太空舱的模拟场景：由一位吊着钢丝的演员在密苏里州的摄影棚里对着专业仪器进行表演。当那个身穿宇航服的家伙步出舱室，优雅地飘浮，毫不费力地升高——两脚朝上，根本看不出他身上拴着的钢丝——的时候，内斯忘记了这不是真的。他忘记了一切，甚至忘记了呼吸。
James, who should have loved astronauts — what were they but modern cowboys, after all, venturing into the newest frontier? — did not know any of these things. Tangled in his thoughts, Marilyn’s torn-up note pressed to his heart, he saw his son’s new obsession through the other end of the telescope. The astronauts, far off in the sky, were mere specks. Two little men in a sardine can, tinkering with nuts and bolts, while here on earth people were disappearing, even dying, and others were struggling just to stay alive one more day. So frivolous, so ridiculous: actors playing dress-up, strung on wires, pretending to be brave. Dancing with their feet above their heads. Nath, mesmerized, stared at the screen all day with a serene smile, and James felt a hot resentful flare in his gullet.
理应热爱宇航员的詹姆斯——因为，除了在太空这片全新的领地开疆拓土的宇航员，还有什么人当得起“现代牛仔”的称号呢？——却对航天知识一无所知。他正纠缠在纷乱的思绪之中，玛丽琳的字条碎片压在心头，他仿佛端着一台望远镜，冷眼旁观儿子的痴迷。他想，天穹深处的宇航员不过是些微尘，两个小人，挤在沙丁鱼罐头大小的空间里，鼓捣着各种螺母螺栓。在那里，看不到地球上的人，那些艰难挣扎的灵魂对他们来说与死者无异。这些宇航员毫无价值，荒谬可笑，是些盛装打扮的演员，吊着钢丝，故作勇敢，四脚朝天地跳舞。而内斯被他们施了催眠术，他终日凝视屏幕，嘴角挂着平和安宁的微笑，见此情景，詹姆斯只觉胸中涌起一股狂暴的厌憎之火。
On Sunday evening, Nath said, “Daddy, can you believe people can go practically to the moon and still come back?” and James slapped him, so hard Nath’s teeth rattled. “Shut up about that nonsense,” he said. “How can you think about things like that when –“
星期天早晨，内斯说：“爸爸，你相信吗，人类能登上月球，然后再回来？”詹姆斯用力扇了儿子一巴掌，把他打得牙齿都咯咯作响。“不准胡说八道。”他说，“你怎么能琢磨这些事，现在这个时……”
He had never hit Nath before, and he never would again. But something between them had already broken. Nath, clutching his cheek, darted out of the room, as did Lydia, and James, left alone in the living room with the image of his son’s shocked, reddening eyes, kicked the television to the floor in a burst of glass and sparks. And although he took the children on a special trip to Decker’s Department Store on Monday to buy another, he would never again think of astronauts, of space, without recoiling, as if shielding his eyes from shards of glass.
他以前从未打过内斯，以后也不会打。但是，他们之间的某种纽带已经破裂了。内斯捂着腮帮子，箭一般冲出房间，莉迪亚紧随其后。詹姆斯独自留在客厅，脑子里印着儿子因震惊和愤怒而泛红的双眼，他一脚把电视机踢倒在地，顿时，玻璃碴儿和火花四溅。虽然他星期一就带着孩子们特地到德克尔百货商店买了一台新电视，但詹姆斯再也没有想起什么宇航员和太空，那些尖锐的玻璃碴儿似乎永远地蒙住了他的眼睛。
Nath, on the other hand, took down the Encyclopaedia Britannica and began to read: Gravity. Rocket. Propulsion. He began to scan the newspapers for articles about the astronauts, about their next mission. Surreptitiously he clipped them and saved them in a folder, poring over them when he woke up in the night dreaming of his mother. Tented by his blanket, he pulled a flashlight from under his pillow and reread the articles in order, memorizing every detail. He learned the name of each launch: Freedom. Aurora. Sigma. He recited the names of the astronauts: Carpenter. Cooper. Grissom. Glenn. By the time he reached the end of the list, he was able to sleep again.
内斯则拾起《大不列颠百科全书》读了起来：引力、火箭、推进。他研究着报纸上各种关于宇航员和航天任务的文章，偷偷把它们剪下来，藏进文件夹。晚上因为梦到母亲而惊醒后，他就把文件夹里面的剪报倒出来，蒙着毯子，从枕头下拿出手电筒，按照顺序重读那些文章，记住每一个细节。他知道了每一次发射任务的代号：自由、极光、西格玛。他吟诵着每位宇航员的名字：卡朋特、库珀、格里索姆、格伦。读完最后一篇文章后，他便又获得了沉入睡眠的能力。
Lydia had nothing to keep her mind off the mother-shaped hole in her world, and with Nath distracted by docking adaptors and splashdowns and apogees, she noticed something: the house smelled different without her mother in it. Once she noticed this, she could not stop noticing. At night she dreamed terrible things: she was crawling with spiders, she was tied up with snakes, she was drowning in a teacup. Sometimes, when she woke in the dark, she could hear the creak of the sofa springs downstairs as their father turned over, then turned again. Those nights, she never fell back asleep again, and the days grew sticky and thick, like syrup.
莉迪亚却没有任何消遣来帮助自己忽视她的世界中那个“母亲”形状的黑洞，内斯与“对接适配器”“溅落”“远地点”等等术语做伴时，她注意到了一些事，这个没有母亲的家，发出了异样的味道。一旦发觉到这一点，就再也无法忽略。莉迪亚开始做噩梦，梦见她和蜘蛛一起爬行，她和蛇绑在一起，她淹死在茶杯里。有时，当她在黑暗中醒来，能听到楼下的沙发咯吱作响——那是她父亲在辗转反侧。在这样的夜晚，她永远无法再次睡着，日子变得粘稠沉闷，犹如糖浆。
Only one thing in the house still reminded Lydia of her mother: the big red cookbook. While her father locked himself in his office and Nath bent his head over the encyclopedia, she would go into the kitchen and take it down from the counter. At five, she could already read some — though not nearly as well as Nath — and she sounded out the recipes: Chocolate Joy Cake. Olive Loaf. Onion Slim-Dip. Each time she opened the cookbook, the woman on the front looked a little more like her mother — the smile, the folded-back collar, the way she looked not right at you but over your shoulder, just past you. After her mother had come back from Virginia, she had read this book every day: in the afternoon, when Lydia came home from school; in the evening, before Lydia went to bed. In the mornings, sometimes, it was still on the table, as if her mother had been reading it all night. This cookbook, Lydia knew, was her mother’s favorite book, and she leafed through it with the adoration of a devotee touching a Bible.
家里只有一样东西能让莉迪亚想起母亲：那本红色封面的大烹饪书。她父亲把自己锁在书房里，内斯埋首于百科全书的时候，她就钻进厨房，从柜台上把书取下。虽然只有五岁，她已经认得一些字了——当然不像内斯读得那么流畅——她念叨着食品的名字：巧克力欢乐蛋糕、橄榄面包、洋葱奶酪羹。每次打开这本烹饪书，扉页上的女人都更像一点她的母亲——微笑的样子，向后翻的衣领，不直接看你而是望着你身后的眼神。她母亲从弗吉尼亚回来以后，每天都会读这本书，下午莉迪亚放学回家的时候，晚上莉迪亚睡觉之前。有时候，到了早晨这本书还搁在桌上，似乎她母亲通宵都在读它。这本烹饪书，莉迪亚知道，是母亲最喜欢的读物，她会像信徒抚摩《圣经》一样翻阅它。
The third day of July, when her mother had been gone for two months, she curled up in her favorite spot under the dining table with the cookbook once again. That morning, when she and Nath had asked their father about hot dogs and sparklers and s’mores, he had said only, “We’ll see,” and they all knew this meant no. Without their mother, there would be no barbeques, no lemonade, no walking down to the lake to watch the fireworks. There would be nothing but peanut butter and jelly and the house with the curtains pulled shut. She flipped the pages, looking at the photos of cream pies and cookie houses and standing rib roasts. And, there, on one page: a line drawn down the side. She sounded out the words.
七月的第三天，她母亲已经失踪两个月了。莉迪亚窝在餐桌底下她最喜欢的角落，再次捧起烹饪书。那天早晨，她和内斯要父亲买热狗和国庆焰火。詹姆斯只说了一句：“再说吧。”他们知道，这话的意思是“不”。母亲不在，这个国庆日不再有烧烤和柠檬汁，他们也不会去湖边看烟花了。只有花生酱和果酱，而家里的窗帘依旧紧闭。她翻动书页，看着上面的奶油派、姜饼屋和牛排大餐的照片，发现其中一页的侧面画着一条线。她念出画线的字句：
Beneath that:
下面一句是：
What mother doesn’t love to cook with her little girl?
什么样的母亲不喜欢和女儿一起做菜呢？
Little bumps pocked the page all over, as if it had been out in the rain, and Lydia stroked them like Braille with her fingertip. She did not understand what they were until a tear splashed against the page. When she wiped it away, a tiny goose bump remained.
整页纸坑坑洼洼，似乎被雨水打湿过。莉迪亚像读盲文那样用指尖抚摸着纸面上的凸起。起先，她不明白这一页为什么会变成这样，直到一滴泪水溅落在纸面上，她用手一擦，书页上留下一个凸起的斑点。
And what little girl doesn’t love learning with Mom?
什么样的女儿不愿意和妈妈一起学做菜呢？
Another formed, then another. Her mother must have cried over this page, too.
这样的痕迹比比皆是，她母亲一定也是边哭边读这一页的。
If her mother ever came home and told her to finish her milk, she thought, the page wavering to a blur, she would finish her milk. She would brush her teeth without being asked and stop crying when the doctor gave her shots. She would go to sleep the second her mother turned out the light. She would never get sick again. She would do everything her mother told her. Everything her mother wanted.
如果她母亲能回家，让她喝完自己的牛奶——莉迪亚想，书页模糊起来——她一定会喝完。她会自觉刷牙，医生给她打针的时候也不哭。母亲一关灯，她就睡觉。她再也不会生病。母亲说什么，她就做什么。她要实现母亲的每一个意愿。
Far off in Toledo, Marilyn did not hear the silent promise her young daughter was making. On the third of July, while Lydia huddled beneath the dining table, Marilyn bent over a new book: Advanced Organic Chemistry. Her midterm was in two days, and she had been studying all morning. With her notebook in hand, Marilyn felt like an undergraduate again; even her signature had gone soft and round, like it had been before she married, before her handwriting stiffened and tightened. All the other students in her course were college kids, some diligently trying to get ahead, some reluctantly trying to catch up from failed classes and bad semesters. To her surprise, they treated her no differently than they treated each other: quiet, polite, focused. In the cool lecture hall, they all sketched molecules, labeling them ethyl, methyl, propyl, butyl; at the end of the class, they compared notes and hers were exactly the same: beautiful little hieroglyphs of hexagons and lines. Proof, she told herself, that I’m just as smart as the others. That I belong.
远在托莱多的玛丽琳并没有听到她幼小的女儿无声的许诺。七月份的第三天，莉迪亚蜷在餐桌底下的时候，玛丽琳正趴在一本新书上，《高等有机化学》。期中考试就在两天后，她已经复习了一上午。玛丽琳捧着笔记本，觉得自己又回到了本科时代，连签名也恢复了结婚以前的柔和圆润——结婚后，她写出的字都变得刚硬紧绷。她的同学都是些大学生，有的勤恳用功，盼望拔得头筹，有的勉力维持，以及格为最高目标。出乎她意料的是，他们并没有视她为异类，而是像对待别人一样，表现得安静、礼貌、专注。在凉爽的讲堂里，他们共同观察分子结构，打上“乙基、甲基、丙基、丁基”等一干标签；课程结束时，他们切磋笔记，交流心得，她依然能像从前那样画出优美简洁的分子链。她告诉自己，这证明我和其他人一样聪明。我属于这里。
It’s not your fault, her father had said, but Lydia knew it was. They’d done something wrong, she and Nath; they’d made her angry somehow. They hadn’t been what she wanted.
这不是你们的错，她父亲说过，然而，莉迪亚知道，这是他们的错。他们做错了事，她和内斯。不知怎么，他们惹她生气了。他们没有满足她的期待。
Yet often, when she opened her books, Marilyn’s mind whirled. Equations jumbled and rejumbled, hidden messages jumping out at her. NaOH became Nath, his small face wide-eyed and reproachful. One morning, consulting the periodic table, instead of helium she thought He and James’s face floated up in her mind. Other days, the messages were more subtle: a typo in the textbook –“the common acids, egg. nitric, acetic…”– left her in tears, thinking of hard-boiled, sunny-side up, scrambled. At these times she slipped her fingertips into her pocket for the barrette, the marble, the button. She turned them over and over until again her mind was smooth.
然而，当玛丽琳打开书本，她时常会觉得头晕眼花。各种反应式上蹿下跳，最枯燥的字眼也会让她浮想联翩：氢氧化钠（NaOH）变成了内斯（Nath），让她想起他的小脸、睁大的眼睛和哀怨的表情。一天早晨，查阅元素周期表的时候，她把“氦”（helium）看成了“他”（he），眼前立刻出现了詹姆斯的脸。有时候，她还会捕捉到更加敏感的信息，比如，看到课本上的这种印刷错误——“常见的酸，蛋，硝酸、醋酸……”，都能让她泪流满面，想起煮鸡蛋、单面煎的荷包蛋和炒鸡蛋。每逢这些时候，玛丽琳会把手伸进口袋，抚摸里面的纪念物——发夹、弹珠和纽扣，一遍又一遍地翻动它们，直到心绪平静下来为止。
Some days, though, even these talismans lost their power. Two weeks after she left home, she woke in her rented twin bed, her body one sharp ache. Suddenly she felt drowned in the incredible wrongness of the moment, that she should be here, so far away from them. At last, caped in a blanket, she tiptoed to the telephone in the kitchen. It was six forty-one in the morning, but it took only two rings. “Hello?” James had said. A long pause. “Hello?” She said nothing, not daring to speak, just letting that voice soak into her heart. He had sounded hoarse — just static, she told herself, though she did not truly believe this. At last, she pressed the hook down with one finger and held it there, a long time, before replacing the receiver again. All day she listened to that voice in her head, like a familiar and loved lullaby.
然而有的时候，连这些护身符都会失去魔力。离家两周后，她在自己租赁的双人间中醒来，感到体内有一种尖锐的疼痛。她突然觉得自己犯了天大的错误，不应该远离家人跑到这里来。终于，她披着毯子挪到厨房的电话旁。当时是早晨六点四十一分，但电话只响了两声就通了。“喂？”詹姆斯说。长时间的静默。“喂？”她什么都没说，她不敢说，只能让声音淹没在心里。他的嗓子似乎哑了——可能是电话线路的干扰，她告诉自己，但并不真的相信这个理由。最后，她伸出一根手指按下叉簧，停在那里，过了很长时间才把听筒放回原位。詹姆斯沙哑的声音一整天都在她的脑中回响，仿佛一首熟悉可爱的催眠曲。
From then on, she called every few days, when the yearning for home became too much. No matter what time it was, James picked up the phone, and she worried, imagining him sleeping at the kitchen table, or in his study beside the extension. Yet the one time she received no answer — James and the children, out of food, had been forced to the grocery store at last — she had panicked, imagining house fires or earthquakes or meteor strikes, and called again and again, every five minutes, then every two, until James’s voice had come across the line at last. Another time, when she called in the middle of the morning, James, exhausted, had fallen asleep at his desk, and Nath had picked up instead. “Lee residence,” he had answered dutifully, just as she’d trained him, and Marilyn wanted to say, Are you all right? Are you being good? but found her throat swollen shut with longing. Nath, to her surprise, didn’t hang up at the silence. He had knelt on the kitchen chair, which he’d climbed to reach the phone, listening. After a moment, Lydia had tiptoed in from the doorway and crouched beside him, the handset sandwiched between their ears, for two minutes, three minutes, four, as if they could hear everything their mother was feeling and wishing in the gentle hiss on the line. They had been the ones to hang up first, and after the click, Marilyn had cradled the phone for a long time, hands trembling.
从那时开始，每隔几天，想家想得厉害时，她就会打个电话。无论当时是几点钟，詹姆斯都会及时接起电话，所以，她觉得他晚上可能是趴在厨房的桌子上睡觉，或者是在书房里的分机旁边过夜。然而有一次，电话没有打通——詹姆斯和孩子们出门采购食物了，如果不去杂货店，就有断粮的危险——她惊慌起来，担心家里着了火，或者遇到了地震，甚至陨石袭击。于是她无数次拨打电话，先是每隔五分钟，后来每隔两分钟，直到听筒中终于传来詹姆斯的声音。还有一次，她大清早就打了电话，疲累不堪的詹姆斯在办公桌上睡着了，电话是内斯接的。“这里是李的家。”他一本正经地说，和她教得一字不差。玛丽琳想说“你还好吗，听没听话”，却发现自己激动得根本发不出声音。出乎她意料的是，内斯没有因为她的沉默挂掉电话。当时，他正跪在厨房椅子上听话筒里的动静——为了够到电话，他是爬上去的。过了一会，莉迪亚从过道里轻轻走进来，趴在内斯身边，两个人用各自的耳朵把听筒夹在中间。两分钟过去了，三分钟，四分钟，透过线路中低沉的嘶嘶声，他们似乎听到了母亲的所思所想。最后，两个孩子率先挂掉电话，玛丽琳捧着话筒愣了很久，手一直在抖。
She told herself that everything was possible now, in this new life. She subsisted on cereal and sandwiches and spaghetti from the pizza joint down the street; she had not known it was possible to live without owning a single pot. Eight more credits, she calculated, and she would finish her degree. She tried to forget everything else. She rolled Nath’s marble between her fingers as she wrote away for medical school brochures. She snapped the clip of Lydia’s barrette — one-two, one-two — as she penned tiny notes in the margins of her textbook. She concentrated so hard that her head ached.
她告诉自己，在眼下的新生活中，一切皆有可能。现在，她主要靠大街那头的比萨餐厅里出售的麦片粥、三明治和意大利面充饥；她原本不知道一个人可以在没有炊具的情况下生活。她计算着，还有八个学分自己就能完成学位。她想要忘记所有与此无关的事情。她一面研究医学院的考题，一面转动着内斯的弹珠。她一只手扳动莉迪亚的发夹——打开、合拢，打开、合拢——另一只手在课本的空白处写下密密麻麻的笔记。她拼命集中精力，以至于头都疼了起来。
Nath and Lydia never mentioned this to their father, and James never reported the calls to the police. He had already begun to suspect that they were not much interested in helping him, and deep inside, where his old fears lay coiled, he thought he understood their reasoning: it had only been a matter of time before a wife like Marilyn left a husband like him. Officer Fiske continued to be very kind, but James resented this even more; the politeness made it even harder to bear. For her part, Marilyn told herself each time she put down the receiver that it was the last time, that she would not call again, that this was proof her family was fine, that she had begun a new life. She told herself this so firmly that she believed it completely, until the next time she found herself dialing their number.
内斯和莉迪亚从来没跟父亲提起过这事，詹姆斯也没把这些奇怪的电话报告给警方。他已经开始怀疑——对于帮助自己，警察并不热心，而且，他的内心深处仍然盘踞着旧时的恐惧，他认为自己理解警察的逻辑——玛丽琳这样的妻子抛弃他这样的丈夫，是早晚的事。菲斯克警官的态度一直温和有礼，然而这让詹姆斯更加厌烦，礼貌令他更难忍受。至于玛丽琳，每当放下话筒，她都会对自己说，这是最后一次，她再也不会往家里打电话，刚才的电话已经证明家人过得还不错，而她已经开始了新的生活。她坚定地告诫自己——她对此深信不疑，直到下一次不由自主地拿起话筒，她的信心才又开始动摇。
That third day of July, Marilyn flipped a page in her textbook and black cotton clouded her view. Her head went heavy as a melon, pulling her off balance, buckling her knees, dragging her toward the floor. In a moment, her vision cleared, then her mind. She discovered a spilled glass of water trickling off the tabletop, her notes scattered across the tiles, her blouse clammy and damp. Only when her own handwriting came back into focus did she stand again.
七月份的第三天，玛丽琳翻开课本，眼睛却被一层黑云遮挡，只觉得头重脚轻、双腿发软，身体有瘫到地板上的趋势。然而，转瞬之间，她的视野就恢复了清明，意识也清晰起来。她发现桌上倒掉一杯水，几本笔记散落在地，她的衬衫湿乎乎的。她盯着笔记上的字迹，慢慢地站了起来。
She had never fainted before, never even come close, even during the hottest days of summer. Now she was tired, almost too tired to stand up. Easing herself onto the sofa cushions, Marilyn thought, Maybe I’m sick, maybe I caught a bug from someone. Then another thought arrived and her whole body went cold. It was the third; she was sure of this; she had been counting down the days to this exam. That meant she was nearly — she counted on her fingers, alert now, as if she’d been doused with icy water — three weeks late. No. She thought back. Since before she left home almost nine weeks ago. She hadn’t realized it had been so long.
她以前没有晕倒过，连接近晕倒的时候都没有，即使在最炎热的夏天也从未中过暑。现在，她累了，几乎累到无法站立。躺在沙发垫上，玛丽琳想，也许我病了，也许别人传染给了我。接着，另一个念头冒了出来，令她全身发冷——她怀上了第三个孩子。关于这点，她确信无疑；为了这次考试，她一直倒数着日子。她掰了掰手指，顿时呆若木鸡，仿佛被冰水兜头浇过：这意味着她的经期推迟了三个星期。不。她回想着，离家已经近九个星期了。她没有意识到过去了这么长时间。
She wiped her hands on her jeans and tried to stay calm. After all, she had been late before. When she’d been stressed, or sick, as if her body hadn’t enough attention to keep everything running, as if something had to be put on hold. Working as hard as she was, perhaps her body could not keep up. You’re just hungry, Marilyn told herself. She hadn’t eaten all day and it was nearly two o’clock. There was nothing in the cupboard, but she would go to the store. She would get food and eat it and then she would feel much better. Then she would get back to studying.
她在牛仔裤上擦干手，试图保持冷静。毕竟，她的经期以前也曾推迟过，尤其是在遇到压力或者生病的时候，身体似乎无法保持各项机能的正常运转，而以她现在拼命努力的程度，她的身体可能再次没能跟上紧张的节奏。“你只是饿了。”玛丽琳告诉自己。她一天没吃东西，现在已经快两点了，碗橱里什么都没有，但她可以去商店买些食物然后吃掉，那样感觉就会好多了，然后她就能接着用功。
In the end, Marilyn would never take that exam. At the store, she put cheese and bologna and mustard and soda into her cart. She lifted a loaf of bread from the shelf. It’s nothing, she told herself again. You’re fine. With the grocery sack under her arm and the six-pack of bottles in her hand, she headed to her car, and without warning the parking lot spiraled around her. Knees, then elbows, slammed into asphalt. The paper sack tumbled to the ground. Soda bottles shattered on the pavement, exploding in a spray of fizz and glass.
但最后，她还是没有参加考试。她在商店里选了奶酪、腊肠、芥末酱和汽水放进购物车，又从架子上拿起面包。“没关系，”她又告诉自己，“你很好。”腋下夹着杂货店的袋子，手里提着六瓶汽水，她朝自己的汽车走去，突然觉得一阵天旋地转，膝盖、手肘先后磕在了柏油地面上，纸袋也滚了出去，汽水瓶砸在人行道上，变成一摊嘶叫着的液体和碎玻璃。
She dug in her purse for a handkerchief and touched its corner to her palm and suddenly the cut was drained dry, the handkerchief blotched scarlet. The beauty of her hand amazed her: the pureness of the colors, the clarity of the white flecks and the thin lines on the muscle. She wanted to touch it, to lick it. To taste herself. Then the cut began to sting, and blood began to pool in her cupped palm, and she realized she would have to go to the hospital.
她从皮包里掏出一条手绢，用手绢的一个角擦了擦伤口，血瞬间被吸干了，布料上出现大片红色的污渍。她惊异于这只手的美，颜色纯粹，清晰透明，肌肉上纹理纵横。她想触碰它，舔它，尝尝自己是什么味道。这时，伤口开始刺痛，血又涌出来，在掌心形成一个水潭。她意识到自己必须去医院了。
The emergency room was almost empty. The next day it would be full of Fourth of July accidents: food poisoning from bad egg salad, burned hands from grill fires, singed eyebrows from rogue fireworks. That afternoon, though, Marilyn walked up to the front desk and held out her hand, and in a few minutes she found herself on a cot, a petite young blonde in white taking her pulse and examining her palm. And when the young blonde said, “Let’s get you stitched up,” and took a bottle of anesthetic from a cupboard, Marilyn blurted out, “Shouldn’t the doctor do that?”
急诊室几乎空无一人。等到第二天，这里将忙于处理国庆日的各种事故，食用变质鸡蛋色拉导致的食物中毒、烧烤引起的手部灼伤、被烟花烧糊的眉毛。那个下午，玛丽琳走到前台伸出她的手。几分钟后，她来到一间诊室，一位穿白衣服的金发年轻女人检查了她的脉搏和手掌，说：“你需要缝针。”随后从柜子里拿出一瓶麻醉剂。玛丽琳不假思索地问：“难道不应该医生来做吗？”
Marilyn sat up slowly. Her groceries lay scattered around her, the loaf of bread in a puddle, the jar of mustard slowly rolling away toward a green VW van. Cola dripped down her shins. She had cut herself on the glass: a deep gash right across the center of her palm, straight as a ruler’s edge. It did not hurt at all. She turned her hand from side to side, letting the light play on the layers of skin like sandstone strata: clearish pink, like watermelon, with flecks of snowy white. At the bottom, a river of rich red welled up.
玛丽琳缓缓坐起来，周身围着一圈食物，面包泡在一个水坑里，芥末酱的瓶子正朝着不远处的一辆绿色大众货车慢慢滚去。她的小腿上奔流着可乐。她把一只手举起来看了看，灯光照射下，皮肤的层次如同砂岩，现出西瓜一般的暗粉色，手掌底部，一股鲜红色的液体正汩汩流淌。
The blond woman laughed. “I’m Dr. Greene,” she said. Then, as Marilyn stared, she added, “Would you like to see my hospital badge?”
金发女人笑了。“我是格林医生。”她说。发现玛丽琳盯着她看，她补充道，“你想看我的工作证吗？”
After that everything happened very fast. There were tests to be run, vials of blood to be drawn. Marilyn didn’t remember exactly how it worked but knew it involved rabbits. “Oh, we don’t use rabbits anymore,” the pretty young doctor laughed, slipping the needle into the soft crook of Marilyn’s arm. “We use frogs now. Much faster and easier. Isn’t modern science wonderful?” Someone got Marilyn a cushioned chair and a blanket to drape over her shoulders; someone asked for her husband’s phone number, which Marilyn, in a daze, recited. Someone brought her a glass of water. The cut on her hand was closed and mute now, black sutures binding the raw flesh shut. Hours passed, but it seemed only a few minutes before James was there, radiant with amazement, holding her good hand while the young doctor said, “We’ll call you with the results on Tuesday, Mr. and Mrs. Lee, but it looks like you’ll be due in January.” Then, before Marilyn could speak, she stepped into the long white hallway and disappeared.
接下来，就是她身不由己的开端。先是一系列的检查和抽血化验，玛丽琳不太确定这些检查化验的原理，但她记得，这样的检查需要在兔子身上做实验。但年轻美丽的女医生笑了，她把针头推进玛丽琳柔软的肘窝：“我们现在用青蛙，比兔子更快，更简单。现代科学是多么的奇妙呀。”有人给玛丽琳拿来一只靠垫和一张毛毯，让她披在身上；有人询问她丈夫的电话号码，玛丽琳茫然地背了出来；有人给她端来一杯水。她手上的伤口已经没了感觉，黑色的缝线合拢了外翻的皮肉。几个小时过去了，等詹姆斯赶来，却像是只过了几分钟。他惊愕地握着玛丽琳的另一只手。年轻的医生说：“我们星期二会打电话告知你们检查结果，李先生和李太太，不过，我想你的预产期应该在一月份。”然后，没等玛丽琳开口，她就步入长长的白色走廊，消失了。
As the young woman closed the gash with neat black stitches, Marilyn’s hands began to ache. She clenched her teeth, but the ache spread into her wrists, up to her shoulders, down her spine. It wasn’t the surgery. It was disappointment: that like everyone else, she heard doctor and still thought — would forever think — man. The rims of her eyes started to burn, and when Dr. Greene tied off the last stitch and smiled and said, “How are you feeling?” Marilyn blurted out, “I think I’m pregnant,” and burst into tears.
年轻女人用黑线整齐地缝合了伤口。玛丽琳的手疼了起来，她咬紧牙关，但是疼痛蔓延到手腕，一直上升到肩膀，又沿着脊柱下降。疼痛并非手术引起，而是因为失望，跟其他人一样，当她听到“医生”这个称呼，仍然会想到——永远会想到——男人。她的眼眶开始发热。缝完最后一针，格林医生打了个结，微笑道：“你感觉怎么样？”玛丽琳再次脱口而出：“我觉得我怀孕了。”然后就哭了起来。
This is it, Marilyn told herself. Let it go. This is what you have. Accept it.
就这样吧，玛丽琳告诉自己。放弃吧。你只能接受现实。
Marilyn touched her unwounded hand to her belly for a long time. She could not take classes pregnant. She could not start medical school. All she could do was go home. And once she was home, she would see her children’s faces, and there would be a new baby, and — she admitted it to herself slowly, with an ache more painful than her hand — she would never have the strength to leave them again. There was James, kneeling on the floor beside her chair as if in prayer. There was her old life, soft and warm and smothering, pulling her into its lap. Nine weeks. Her grand plan had lasted nine weeks. Everything she had dreamed for herself faded away, like fine mist on a breeze. She could not remember now why she thought it had all been possible.
玛丽琳把没受伤的那只手放在肚子上，犹豫了很长时间。她没法怀着孕去上课，没法进入医学院，能做的只有回家。一旦回了家，她就能看到孩子们，还会迎来新生命，而且——她终于承认，自己没有勇气再撇下他们不管。詹姆斯跪在她椅子旁边的地板上，那姿势像是在祷告。她的旧生活——舒适温暖，但压抑憋闷——正试图把她重新拉回它的怀抱。九个星期。她的宏伟计划只持续了九个星期。她的毕生追求黯然消散，犹如微风吹拂下的薄雾。她现在甚至不记得自己当初为什么会觉得这个计划有可能实现。
“Marilyn,” James whispered when the doctor had gone. His tone made her name a question that she could not yet bring herself to answer. “We’ve missed you so much.”
“玛丽琳，”医生走后，詹姆斯对她耳语道，他的语气让她无言以对，“我们非常想你。”
“I was so foolish,” she said. “I made such a terrible mistake.” She leaned into James, breathing in the heavy sweet smell of his neck. It smelled like home. “Forgive me,” she whispered.
“我太傻了，”她说，“我犯下如此可怕的错误。”她靠在詹姆斯身上，呼吸着他脖颈周围甜美的空气，那是家的味道，“原谅我。”她小声说。
James guided Marilyn to the car — his car — with his arm around her waist and helped her into the front seat as if she were a child. The next day, he would take a taxi from Middlewood back to Toledo and make the hour-long drive again in Marilyn’s car, warm and aglow at knowing his wife would be there when he got home. For now, though, he drove carefully, scrupulously obeying the speed limit, reaching over every few miles to pat Marilyn’s knee, as if reassuring himself that she was still there. “Are you too cold? Are you too warm? Are you thirsty?” he asked again and again. I’m not an invalid, Marilyn wanted to say, but her mind and tongue seemed to move in slow motion: they were already home, he had already gone to get her a cold drink and a pillow for the small of her back. He was so happy, she thought; look at that little bounce at the end of each step, look at how he tucked the blanket so carefully around her feet. When he came back, she said only, “Where are the children?” and James said he had left them across the street with Vivian Allen, not to worry, he would take care of everything.
詹姆斯领着玛丽琳来到汽车——他的车——旁边，一只胳膊搂着她的腰，协助她在前排坐好，仿佛她是个小孩。第二天，他需要从米德伍德乘出租车返回托莱多，把玛丽琳的车开回米德伍德。他到家时，他的妻子会容光焕发地迎接他。但是现在，他开车时必须小心谨慎，严格遵守限速规定，每隔几英里都要拍拍玛丽琳的膝盖，好像在确认她没有消失。“你冷吗？你热吗？你渴吗？”他问了一遍又一遍。“我又不是残废。”玛丽琳想说，但她的思维和舌头仿佛进入了慢动作模式。他们回到家里，他给她端来冷饮，还拿来一个枕头给她垫腰。他很高兴，她想。看看他那轻快的步子，他用毯子给她裹脚的时候是多么的小心翼翼。等他回来，她只说了一句：“孩子们呢？”詹姆斯说，他把孩子们放在街对面的薇薇安·艾伦家了，别担心，他会处理每一件事。
Marilyn leaned back against the couch cushions and woke to the sound of the doorbell. It was almost dinnertime; James had retrieved the children from Mrs. Allen’s and a pizza deliveryman stood at the door with a stack of boxes. By the time Marilyn wiped the sleep from her eyes, James had already counted out the tip and taken the boxes and shut the door. She followed him, dozily, into the kitchen, where he put the pizza down right in the center of the table, between Lydia and Nath.
倚着沙发靠垫的玛丽琳被门铃声惊醒。现在差不多到了晚餐时间，詹姆斯去艾伦夫人家接孩子了；一个送比萨的站在门口，托着一叠纸盒。玛丽琳揉着眼睛，发现詹姆斯已经付过小费，他端着盒子走进来，关上了门。她头晕眼花地跟在丈夫身后进了厨房，他把比萨放在桌子中央——莉迪亚和内斯的中间。
“Your mother’s home,” he said, as if they couldn’t see her standing there in the doorway behind him. Marilyn touched a hand to her hair and felt frizz. Her braid had come undone; her feet were bare; the kitchen was overly warm, overly bright. She felt like a child who’d overslept, wandering downstairs, late to everything. Lydia and Nath stared at her warily across the table, as if she might suddenly do something unexpected, like scream, or explode. Nath’s mouth puckered, as if he were sucking something sour, and Marilyn wanted to stroke his hair and tell him that she hadn’t planned any of this, hadn’t meant for this to happen. She could see the question in their eyes.
“你们的妈妈回来了。”他说。好像他们看不到她站在他身后的走廊里似的。玛丽琳一只手摸着头发上卷曲的地方——她没扎辫子，赤着脚。厨房里过于暖和，过于明亮，她就像个睡过了头的孩子，等到晃晃悠悠地下了楼，才发现错过了一切。莉迪亚和内斯小心地越过桌子看着她，好像她会做出什么出其不意的举动，比如尖叫或者发火。内斯瘪着嘴巴，似乎在咀嚼某种非常酸的东西。玛丽琳很想摸摸他的头发，告诉他，对于眼前的这一幕，她完全没有准备。她看得出他们眼神里的疑问。
“Were you good while I was away?” she asked, crouching on the linoleum beside them. “Did you behave?”
“我不在家的时候，你们表现得好不好？”她蹲在地毡上问，“听没听话？”
“I’m home,” she repeated, nodding, and they ran to hug her then, warm and solid, slamming into her legs, burying their faces in her skirt. One tear trickled down Nath’s cheek, one ran along Lydia’s nose, catching in her lips. Marilyn’s hand burned and throbbed, as if she were holding a hot little heart in her palm.
“我回家了。”她重复道，点点头。然后，他们就跑过去拥抱她，温暖而坚实的拥抱，身体撞在她的腿上，脸埋进她的裙子。内斯流下一行眼泪，莉迪亚的泪水挂在鼻子上，淌进嘴里。玛丽琳的手又热又疼，犹如捧着一颗炙热的小心脏。
To Lydia, her mother’s return was nothing short of a miracle. She had made a promise and her mother had heard it and come home. She would keep her word. That afternoon, when her father had hung up the phone and said those astonishing words — Your mother is coming home — she had made a decision: her mother would never have to see that sad cookbook again. At Mrs. Allen’s, she had made a plan, and after her father had picked them up — Shh, not a peep, your mother is sleeping — she had taken it away. “Mama,” she said into her mother’s hip now. “While you were gone. Your cookbook.” She swallowed. “I — lost it.”
在莉迪亚看来，母亲的回归无异于奇迹。她许了一个愿，她母亲听到了，就回家了。她会遵守诺言。那天下午，父亲放下电话，说了一句惊人的话：你们的妈妈要回家了。那时，她就做了一个决定，她母亲不必再去读那本令人伤怀的烹饪书。在艾伦夫人家的时候，她就定下计划，等父亲把他们接回家之后——“嘘，别出声，妈妈在睡觉”——她就悄悄过去，把它拿走。“妈妈，”她对着母亲的腰说，“你不在家的时候，你的烹饪书，”她硬下心，“我——我给扔了。”
“You did?” To her astonishment, Marilyn felt no anger. No: she felt pride. She pictured her daughter tossing the cookbook onto the grass and stomping it into the mud with her shiny Mary Janes and walking away. Tossing it into the lake. Setting it ablaze. To her own surprise, she smiled. “Did you do that,” she said, curling her arm around her small daughter, and Lydia hesitated, then nodded.
“你扔了？”令玛丽琳惊奇的是，她竟然没有生气。不，她反而觉得骄傲。她仿佛看到女儿把书丢在草地上，抬起穿着亮闪闪的玛丽珍皮鞋的脚，把它踩进泥里，然后扬长而去。无论是把书扔进湖里，还是火堆，她都无所谓。她惊讶地发现，自己笑了。“是你干的吗？”她伸出胳膊搂着幼小的女儿，莉迪亚先是犹豫了一下，然后点点头。
It was a sign, Marilyn decided. For her it was too late. But it wasn’t too late for Lydia. Marilyn would not be like her own mother, shunting her daughter toward husband and house, a life spent safely behind a deadbolt. She would help Lydia do everything she was capable of. She would spend the rest of her years guiding Lydia, sheltering her, the way you tended a prize rose: helping it grow, propping it with stakes, arching each stem toward perfection. In Marilyn’s belly, Hannah began to fidget and kick, but her mother could not yet feel it. She buried her nose in Lydia’s hair and made silent promises. Never to tell her to sit up straight, to find a husband, to keep a house. Never to suggest that there were jobs or lives or worlds not meant for her; never to let her hear doctor and think only man. To encourage her, for the rest of her life, to do more than her mother had.
这是一个征兆，玛丽琳认为。她虽然赶不上了，但莉迪亚还来得及。玛丽琳不会与她的母亲一样，把女儿限制在丈夫和家庭的禁锢之内，过一辈子平淡麻木的生活。她会帮助莉迪亚实现她力所能及的目标，她将倾尽余生指引莉迪亚，庇护她，像培育观赏玫瑰一样，帮助它成长，用木棍支撑它，把它的茎秆塑造成完美的形状。玛丽琳的肚子里，汉娜已经开始烦躁地踢打，但她母亲还感觉不到。她把鼻子埋进莉迪亚的头发间，暗自许诺，决不过分纠正她的坐姿、逼她寻找丈夫、打理家务；决不建议女儿从事不适合她的工作，过不属于她的生活；决不让她在听到“医生”的称呼时，只想到男人。她要在余生中一直鼓励女儿，让她做出超越母亲的成就。
James was already taking plates from the cupboard, distributing napkins, lifting the lid of the top box in a whiff of meat-scented steam. Marilyn put a slice of pepperoni pizza on each of their plates, and Nath, with a deep, contented sigh, began to eat. His mother was home, and tomorrow there would be hard-boiled eggs for breakfast, hamburgers and hot dogs for supper, strawberry shortcake for dessert. Across the table, Lydia stared down at her portion in silence, at the red circles dotting the surface, at the long thin threads of cheese tying it back to the box.
詹姆斯已经从碗橱里拿出盘子，开始分配餐巾，他掀起比萨饼盒的盖子，肉香飘溢。玛丽琳在每一个盘子里都放了一块意大利辣香肠比萨，内斯心满意足地深深叹了一口气，吃了起来。他母亲回来了，明天早晨又有煮鸡蛋吃了，晚饭桌上又会出现汉堡和热狗，还有草莓脆饼做甜点。饭桌对面，莉迪亚沉默地注视着自己的那一份食物，研究上面的香肠切片和那些极力想要缩回盒子里的粘连的奶酪丝。
Nath was only half-right: the next day there were hot dogs and hamburgers, but no eggs, no shortcake. James grilled the meat himself, charring it slightly, but the family, determined to celebrate, ate it anyway. In fact, Marilyn would refuse to cook at all after her return, each morning popping frozen waffles into the toaster, each evening heating a frozen potpie or opening a can of SpaghettiOs. She had other things on her mind. Math, she thought that Fourth of July; she will need math, this daughter of mine. “How many buns inside the bag?” she asked, and Lydia tapped each with her finger, counting up. “How many hot dogs are on the grill? How many won’t have buns?” At each right answer, her mother smoothed her hair and cuddled her against her thigh.
内斯只猜对了一半。第二天，他确实吃到了热狗和汉堡，然而没有鸡蛋，也没有脆饼。詹姆斯亲自烤了肉，虽然烤得稍微有点焦，但大家还是怀着庆祝节日的心情吃掉了。玛丽琳回家之后，其实想要拒绝做饭的，她准备每天早晨用烤箱把冷冻的华夫饼翻热，每天晚上热一热冷冻肉馅饼，或者开一罐圆形意面——因为她有别的事情要忙。数学，七月四日那天，她想到了这门课程；我的女儿需要数学。“袋子里有多少个小面包？”她问。莉迪亚伸出手指数了一下。“烤炉上有几根香肠？有多少是没有夹在面包里的？”女儿每答对一次，母亲就摸一下她的头发，让她靠在自己大腿上。
“All right,” she said, releasing her daughter at last. “Who’s hungry?”
“好了，”她终于松开女儿，“都有谁饿了？”
All day Lydia added up. If everybody ate one hot dog, how many would be left over for tomorrow? If she and Nath got five sparklers each, how many would they have all together? By the time dark fell and fireworks blossomed in the sky, she counted ten kisses from her mother, five caresses, three times her mother called her my smart girl. Every time she answered a question, a dimple appeared in her mother’s cheek like a little fingerprint. “Another,” she begged, every time her mother stopped. “Mama, ask me another.”
莉迪亚一整天都在做算术。如果今天每人吃一只热狗，明天还剩几只？如果她和内斯每人得到五支焰火，加起来一共有多少支？天黑之后，当烟花在空中绽放时，莉迪亚算了算，今天母亲一共给了她十个吻、五个拥抱，叫了她三次“我的聪明女儿”。每当她答对一个问题，母亲的脸上就会出现一个酒窝，像一只小小的指纹。“再问一个，”母亲的提问一停，她就这样恳求，“妈妈，再问我一个问题。”
Instead of just one book, Marilyn bought a stack: The Science of Air. Why There Is Weather. Fun with Chemistry. At night, after she tucked Nath in, she perched on the edge of Lydia’s bed and lifted one from the top. Lydia huddled against her, listening to the deep, underground drum of her mother’s heartbeat. When her mother breathed in, she breathed in. When her mother breathed out, she breathed out. Her mother’s voice seemed to come from within her own head. “Air is everywhere,” her mother read. “Air hovers all around you. Though you can’t see it, it is still there. Everywhere you go, air is there.” Lydia snuggled deeper into her mother’s arms, and by the time they reached the last page, she was almost asleep. “Read me another,” she murmured, and when Marilyn, thrilled, whispered, “Tomorrow, all right?” Lydia nodded so hard her ears rang.
不止一本书，玛丽琳买了一摞书：《空气的科学》《天气的成因》和《趣味化学》。晚上，把内斯塞进被窝之后，她就坐在莉迪亚的床边，从最上面捡起一本书。莉迪亚挤在她身边，倾听母亲深沉如鼓的心跳，跟随她一同呼吸，母亲的声音似乎来自她自己的脑袋。“空气无所不在，”她母亲读道，“盘旋萦绕在你的周围。尽管你看不见它，它还是在那里。无论你去哪里，都有空气。”莉迪亚又往母亲怀里钻了钻，等她读完最后一页，她几乎都要睡着了。“再给我读一本。”她咕哝道。玛丽琳高兴极了，她小声说：“明天，好吗？”莉迪亚使劲点头，连耳朵都跟着响了起来。
“Tomorrow,” Marilyn said, “I’ll buy you a book and we’ll read it together.”
“明天吧，”玛丽琳说，“我会给你买一本书，我们一起读。”
“If that’s really what you want,” her mother said, and Lydia nodded.
“如果你真的愿意回答的话。”她母亲说，莉迪亚连忙点头。
And in return, Lydia kept her own promise: she did everything her mother asked. She learned to write the plus sign, like a little stunted t. She counted on her fingers every morning, adding up over the cereal bowl. Four plus two. Three plus three. Seven plus ten. Whenever her mother stopped, she asked for more, which made her mother glow, as if Lydia had flicked on a light. She stood on the step stool over the sink, aproned from neck to ankle, and pinched baking soda into a jar of vinegar. “That’s a chemical reaction,” her mother said, and Lydia nodded as the foam gurgled down the drain. She played store with her mother, making change with pennies and nickels: two cents for a hug, four cents for a kiss. When Nath plunked down a quarter and said, “Bet you can’t do that one,” their mother shooed him away.
作为报答，莉迪亚也许下自己的承诺：做到母亲吩咐的每一件事。她学会了写加号，写得有点像矮小的字母“t”。她每天早晨都会数指头，计算粥碗的数量，四加二、三加三、七加十。每当母亲停止提问，她就会要求她继续，这让玛丽琳激动不已——莉迪亚仿佛启动了她身上的电源。莉迪亚踩着小凳趴在水池边，过大的围裙从脖颈一直拖到脚踝，看着玛丽琳把一些小苏打放进一杯醋里面。“这是一种化学反应。”她母亲说。看到杯子里溢出的泡沫流进下水道，莉迪亚点点头。她和母亲一起玩模拟商店的游戏，用一美分和五美分的硬币练习算术：两美分换一个拥抱，四美分换一个亲吻。这时，内斯扔下一个二十五美分硬币，说：“你肯定算不出这个能换什么。”他们的母亲立刻把他撵走了。
That most important word: tomorrow. Every day Lydia cherished it. Tomorrow I’ll take you to the museum to look at the dinosaur bones. Tomorrow we’ll learn about trees. Tomorrow we’ll study the moon. Every night a small promise extracted from her mother: that she would be there in the morning.
那个最重要的词——明天，每天都得到了莉迪亚的珍惜。明天，我带你去博物馆看恐龙化石。明天，我们学习树木的知识。明天，我们研究月亮。每天晚上，母亲都会给她一个小承诺：明天，她会陪在她身边。
Inside Lydia could feel it: everything that was to come. One day the books would have no pictures. The problems would grow longer and harder. There would be fractions, decimals, exponents. The games would get trickier. Over meat loaf her mother would say, “Lydia, I’m thinking of a number. If you multiply by two and add one, you get seven.” She would count her way back until she got the right answer, and her mother would smile and bring in the dessert. One day her mother would give her a real stethoscope. She would undo the top two buttons of her blouse and press the chestpiece to her skin and Lydia would hear her mother’s heart directly. “Doctors use these,” her mother would say. It was far away then, tiny in the distance, but Lydia already knew it would happen. The knowledge hovered all around her, clinging to her, every day getting thicker. Everywhere she went, it was there. But every time her mother asked, she said yes, yes, yes.
内心深处，莉迪亚感觉得到，一切该来的都会来。总有一天，她读的书上不会再有插图；她要解决的题目会越来越长，越来越难；算术里会出现分数、小数和指数；游戏会变得更加复杂。看到肉糜卷，她母亲会说：“莉迪亚，我想起一个数字。如果你用它乘以二，再加一，会得到七。”她倒着往回算，直至得出正确答案，随后她母亲会微笑着端来甜点。总有一天，玛丽琳会给她一副真正的听诊器，她会解开衬衫最上面的两颗纽扣，把听头放在皮肤上，让莉迪亚直接听她的心跳。“医生们都用这个。”她母亲会说。不过，现在为时尚早，但莉迪亚已经知道这些事会发生。各种知识在她周围盘旋萦绕，紧抓着她，每天只增不减。无论她去哪里，它们都在那里。然而，每当母亲吩咐下来，她只会答应“是的，是的，是的”。
Two weeks later, Marilyn and James drove to Toledo to retrieve her clothes and books. “I can go alone,” Marilyn insisted. By then the marble and the barrette and the button nestled quietly, forgotten, in the pocket of her dress in the closet. Already the dress was growing tight and soon Marilyn would give it away to Goodwill, with her tiny, forgotten talismans still tucked inside. Still, her eyes stung at the thought of emptying that apartment, sealing her books back into cartons, tossing her half-filled notebooks into the rubbish. She wanted privacy for this little funeral. “Really,” she said. “You don’t have to come.” James, however, insisted. “I don’t want you lifting anything heavy in your condition,” he said. “I’ll ask Vivian Allen to stop by and watch the kids for the afternoon.”
两星期后，玛丽琳和詹姆斯开车到托莱多拿她的衣服和书。“我可以自己去。”玛丽琳坚持道。她把弹珠、发夹和纽扣忘在了衣柜某件衣服的口袋里，那件衣服穿起来已经变紧了，不久，玛丽琳就把它捐献给慈善机构，那三件被遗忘的纪念品还留在衣服的口袋里。不过，当她看到搬空了的小公寓时，还是忍不住眼睛酸涩。她默默地把书本封入纸箱，把写得半满的笔记本丢进垃圾堆。她希望一个人操办这场小小的葬礼。“真的，”她说，“你没有必要来。”詹姆斯却坚持要来。“我不会让你在目前的情况下搬运任何重物。”他说，“我会请薇薇安·艾伦下午过来照看孩子。”
As soon as James and Marilyn had gone, Mrs. Allen turned the TV to a soap opera and sat down on the couch. Lydia hugged her knees under the dining table, cookbookless; Nath picked lint from the carpet and glowered. His mother woke him up and tucked him in, but Lydia filled up all the spaces in between. He knew the answer to every question their mother asked, but whenever he tried to jump in, she shushed him while Lydia counted on her fingers. At the museum, he wanted to watch the star show in the planetarium, but they spent the whole day looking at the skeletons, the model of the digestive system, whatever Lydia wanted. That very morning, he had come down to the kitchen early, clutching his folder of news clippings, and his mother, still in her bathrobe, gave him a sleepy smile over the rim of her teacup. It was the first time she had really looked at him since she came home, and something fluttered in his throat like a little bird. “Can I have a hard-boiled egg?” he asked, and, like a miracle, she said, “All right.” For a moment he forgave her everything. He decided he would show her the pictures of the astronauts he’d been collecting, his lists of launches, everything. She would understand them. She would be impressed.
詹姆斯和玛丽琳一出发，艾伦夫人就把电视频道切换到肥皂剧，在沙发上坐了下来。莉迪亚抱着膝盖坐在餐桌下，手里却没了烹饪书；内斯拽着地毯上的线头，愤愤不平。刚才，他母亲叫醒他，把他塞到餐桌底下，但莉迪亚却已然占用了这里的大部分空间。他知道母亲提问的每一个答案，但每当他想在莉迪亚数指头的时候插嘴回答时，母亲就会让他别出声。在博物馆，他想去天文馆看模拟星空展览，但他们一整天都在观察骨骼、消化系统的模型等等莉迪亚想看的东西。那天早晨，他拿着剪报夹早早来到厨房，他母亲还穿着浴袍。她越过茶杯边缘，给了他一个睡眼惺忪的微笑。自从回家以来，这是她第一次真正地看着他，他的心高兴得像鸟儿一样，差点从喉咙里飞出来。“我能吃一个煮鸡蛋吗？”他问。奇迹般地，她回答：“好的。”那个瞬间，他彻底原谅了她。他决定给她看自己收集的宇航员图片，还有每次发射活动的介绍。她能看懂的。她会印象深刻的。
Then, before he could say a word, Lydia padded down the steps, and his mother’s attention flitted away and alighted on Lydia’s shoulders. Nath pouted in the corner, flicking the edges of his folder, but no one paid any attention to him until his father came into the kitchen. “Still mooning over those astronauts?” he said, plucking an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter. He laughed at his own joke and bit into the apple, and even across the kitchen Nath had heard the hard crunch of teeth piercing skin. His mother, listening to Lydia recount last night’s dream, had not. She had forgotten all about his egg. The little bird in his throat had died and swelled so that he could hardly breathe.
然后，他还没来得及说话，莉迪亚就走下楼梯，他母亲的注意力一下子被吸引过去，落在了莉迪亚的肩膀上。内斯在角落里噘着嘴，翻动剪报夹的边缘，但没人注意他，直到他父亲走进厨房。“还在想着那些宇航员？”他说完，从柜台上的水果碗里挑出一只苹果咬了一口，径自笑起来。尽管隔着整间厨房，内斯仍然听得到那有力的咀嚼声和牙齿穿透果皮的脆响。他母亲只顾听莉迪亚讲她昨晚做了什么梦，对父子俩的存在浑然不觉，也完全忘记了煮鸡蛋这码事。内斯的心一沉，压得他无法呼吸。
On the couch, Mrs. Allen let out a little stuttering snore. A thread of spit oozed down her chin. Nath headed outside, leaving the front door half-open, and jumped down off the porch. The ground slammed into his heels like a jolt of electricity. Above him the sky stretched out pale steel gray.
沙发上，艾伦夫人打起了小呼噜，下巴上挂着一丝口水。内斯从桌子底下爬出来，半敞开前门，跳进门廊里。地面拍打着他的脚跟，仿佛带着电流，头顶是铁灰色的天空，苍白而辽远。
“Where are you going?” Lydia peeked around the door.
“你去哪儿？”莉迪亚朝门外看。
She followed him all the way to the lake and to the end of the little pier. The houses on the other side of the water looked like dollhouses, tiny and scaled-down and perfect. Inside, mothers were boiling eggs or baking cakes or making pot roasts, or maybe fathers were poking the coals in the barbecue, turning the hot dogs with a fork so that the grill made perfect black lines all over. Those mothers had never gone far away and left their children behind. Those fathers had never slapped their children or kicked over the television or laughed at them.
莉迪亚一路跟着内斯来到湖边，踏上小码头。湖对面的房子看上去像做工精美的玩具屋，里面的母亲们一定在煮鸡蛋、烤蛋糕或者炖肉，父亲们也许正在烤肉，他们用叉子翻动热狗，烤网在肉块上烙下完美的黑线。那些母亲从来没有抛下孩子远走高飞，那些父亲从来没打过孩子耳光，或者踢倒电视和嘲笑他们。
“None of your business.” He wondered if Mrs. Allen would hear, if she would wake and come out and call them back, but nothing happened. Without looking, he knew Lydia was watching, and he strode right down the middle of the street, daring her to follow. And in a moment, she did.
“不关你的事。”内斯担心艾伦夫人会听到动静，醒过来喊他回家，但什么都没有发生。他头也没回就知道，莉迪亚在后面望着他。他大步迈下台阶走到街上，看她敢不敢跟着，不一会儿，她就跟了上来。
“Are you going swimming?” Lydia peeled off her socks and tucked one in each shoe, then perched at the end of the dock beside him, dangling her feet over the edge. Someone had left a Barbie doll in the sand, naked and muddy, one of its arms gone. Nath pried off the other and threw it into the water. Then the leg, which was harder. Lydia began to fidget.
“你想游泳吗？”莉迪亚剥掉袜子，分别塞进每只鞋子，然后和他并肩坐在码头，两脚耷拉在水面上。有人在沙子里扔下一个芭比娃娃：没穿衣服，浑身是泥，一条胳膊没有了。内斯把它的另一条胳膊也扯下来，扔进水里，然后又扯下一条腿——腿比较难扯。莉迪亚觉得烦躁起来。
The other leg wouldn’t come off, and Nath turned on his sister. He felt himself unsteady, struggling for balance, as if the world had tipped to one side. He did not know exactly how it had happened but everything had gone askew, like a teeter-totter unevenly weighted. Everything in their life — their mother, their father, even he himself — slid, now, toward Lydia. Like gravity, there was no resisting it. Everything orbited her.
另一条腿怎么扯都扯不下来，内斯扭过身子看着他妹妹，突然，他觉得自己失去了平衡，歪向一边。他不知道这是怎么回事，但是眼前的所有景物都倾斜起来，像是配重不均的跷跷板，他们生活中的每个人——母亲、父亲，甚至他自己——都在滑动，滑向莉迪亚，在她的引力的作用下，谁也难以抗拒，一切都围着她转。
Later on, Nath would never be able to disentangle what he said and what he thought and what he only felt. He would never be sure whether he said anything at all. All Nath would know, for sure, was this: he pushed Lydia into the water.
后来，内斯根本不记得他当时说了什么、想了什么、有什么感觉，甚至忘记了自己究竟说没说话，他只知道一件事，他把莉迪亚推进了水里。
“In a minute.” In his hands, the head of the Barbie had turned around to face her back.
“一会儿就走。”他把芭比娃娃的头一扭，让它的脸冲着脖子后面。
“We’ll get in trouble.” Lydia reached for a sock.
“我们会惹麻烦的。”莉迪亚伸手够袜子。
“We better go home.”
“我们还是回家吧。”
Whenever he remembered this moment, it lasted forever: a flash of complete separateness as Lydia disappeared beneath the surface. Crouched on the dock, he had a glimpse of the future: without her, he would be completely alone. In the instant after, he knew it would change nothing. He could feel the ground still tipping beneath him. Even without Lydia, the world would not level. He and his parents and their lives would spin into the space where she had been. They would be pulled into the vacuum she left behind.
每当他想起这一刻，都觉得漫长得无止无尽。莉迪亚消失在水下，和他彻底分离，他趴在码头上，似乎瞥见了未来。没有她，他就是一个人了，接着他就意识到，即使这样，事情也不会有起色。即使没有了莉迪亚，世界也还是不公平的。他和他的父母，还有他们的生活，会围着莉迪亚曾经存在过的空间旋转，最终卷入她留下的真空之中。
They floundered their way to the edge of the lake, moving slowly toward the shallows until their feet hit the sandy bottom and they lurched aground. Nath wiped mud from his eyes. Lydia vomited a mouthful of lake water into the grass. For a minute, two, three, they lay facedown, catching their breath. Then Nath pushed himself to his feet, and to his surprise, Lydia reached up to clutch his hand. Don’t let go, she meant, and, dizzy with gratitude, Nath gave it.
他们朝着岸边扑腾，缓慢地向那里的浅滩移动，脚触到沙地之后，他们就地瘫倒。内斯抹掉眼睛里的泥巴，莉迪亚对着草丛吐出一大口湖水。一分钟、两分钟、三分钟过去了，两人依旧脸朝下趴着，上气不接下气。然后，内斯摇晃着站起来，令他惊讶的是，莉迪亚伸出手来，抓住他的手。她的意思是“别松手”，在感激带来的眩晕之中，内斯握住了她的手。
In reality, it was only a few seconds before Nath jumped into the water. He ducked under, grabbed Lydia’s arm, pulled her to the surface, pedaling furiously.
实际上，只过了几秒钟，内斯就跳进了水里。他潜入水下，抓住莉迪亚的胳膊把她拉向水面，发狂地踩着水。
More than this: the second he touched her, he knew that he had misunderstood everything. When his palms hit her shoulders, when the water closed over her head, Lydia had felt relief so great she had sighed in a deep choking lungful. She had staggered so readily, fell so eagerly, that she and Nath both knew: that she felt it, too, this pull she now exerted, and didn’t want it. That the weight of everything tilting toward her was too much.
不仅如此，当他碰到她的那一刻，他便意识到自己错怪了她。当他的手拍在她肩膀上的时候，当水面在她头顶闭合的时候，莉迪亚感到极大的解脱，她在呛咳中满足地叹息着，从容地挣扎着，她迫切地体会到，自己和内斯的感受是一致的，那些倾斜挤压在她身上的东西，她也不想要，它们太沉重了。
Kick, he gasped. Kick. Kick.
踢水，他喘着气，踢水，踢水。
They trudged home in silence, making damp slodges on the sidewalk. Except for Mrs. Allen’s snores, there was no noise but the sound of water dripping from their clothes to the linoleum. They had been gone only twenty minutes, but it felt as though eons had passed. Quietly they tiptoed upstairs and hid their wet clothes in the hamper and put on dry, and when their parents returned with suitcases and boxes of books, they said nothing. When their mother complained about the water spots on the floor, Nath said he had spilled a drink. At bedtime, Nath and Lydia brushed their teeth sociably at the sink, taking turns to spit, saying goodnight as if it were any other night. It was too big to talk about, what had happened. It was like a landscape they could not see all at once; it was like the sky at night, which turned and turned so they couldn’t find its edges. It would always feel too big. He pushed her in. And then he pulled her out. All her life, Lydia would remember one thing. All his life, Nath would remember another.
他们踉跄着朝家里走去，一言不发，在人行道上留下潮湿的脚印。除了艾伦夫人的鼾声，房间里只有水从他们的衣服落到地毯上的声音。他们只离开了二十分钟，但感觉好像过去了好几个世纪。他们蹑手蹑脚地上了楼，把湿衣服藏进洗衣篮，换上干衣服，他们的父母拖着手提箱和装书的纸盒返回之后，他们什么都没说。母亲抱怨地板上的水渍时，内斯说，是他打翻了饮料。上床睡觉之前，内斯和莉迪亚一起在水池边刷牙，彬彬有礼地轮流漱口，像平时一样互道晚安。这件事太严重，不能说出来，好比某处他们无法一眼看清的风景，好比夜晚的天空，漫无边际，总是让人觉得太大。他把她推下去，然后又把她拉上来。在莉迪亚的一生中，她将会记住一件事。在内斯的一生中，他也会记住另一件事。
“It’s okay,” James said, and for a moment Nath felt better. Then his father added, “Now, if they had a contest for reading all day –” All month he had been saying things like this: things that sounded like jokes but weren’t. Every time, as he heard his own voice, James bit the tip of his tongue, too late. He did not understand why he said these things to Nath, for that would have meant understanding something far more painful: that Nath reminded him more and more of himself, of everything he wanted to forget from his own boyhood. He knew only that it was becoming a reflex, one that left him smarting and ashamed, and he glanced away. Nath looked down at his broken egg, yolk trickling between blades of grass, whites seeping into the soil. Lydia gave him a small smile, and he ground the shell into the dirt with his sneaker. When his father turned his back, Nath spat into the lawn at his feet.
“没关系。”詹姆斯说。听到这话，内斯感觉好了一点，但是，他的父亲又补充道：“要是他们比赛读一整天书……”一个月来，他总是重复类似的话，听着像开玩笑，其实却不是。每当发觉自己脱口而出的时候，詹姆斯都会下意识地咬住舌尖，但是已经太迟了。他不理解为什么他会对内斯说这些话，这样只会揭示更多的痛苦事实：内斯越来越让他想起自己，想起他试图忘记的童年往事。他知道儿子成了他当年的缩影，让他感到难过和羞愧，想到这里，他的目光飘到了一边。内斯看着地上摔碎的鸡蛋，蛋黄在草叶上流淌，蛋清渗进土壤，莉迪亚对他微微笑了一下，他用穿着帆布鞋的脚把蛋壳碾碎。詹姆斯转过身去，内斯朝着他脚边啐了一口。
Middlewood Elementary held its annual welcome-back picnic on the last weekend in August. Their mother pressed one hand to her belly, where Hannah grew heavier every day; their father carried Lydia on his shoulders as they walked across the parking lot. After lunch, there were contests: who could hit a Wiffle ball the farthest, who could toss the most beanbags into a coffee can, who could guess the number of jelly beans in the one-gallon Mason jar. Nath and James entered the father-son egg race, each balancing a raw egg in a teaspoon like an offering. They made it almost all the way to the finish line before Nath tripped and dropped his. Miles Fuller and his father crossed the line first and Mrs. Hugard, the principal, gave them the blue ribbon.
每年暑假结束，重新开学的时候，米德伍德小学都会举行欢迎野餐会。玛丽琳手按着肚子，汉娜一天比一天重了；他们的父亲用肩膀扛着莉迪亚，穿过停车场。午饭后还有几个比赛，看谁扔空心威浮球扔得最远，谁能把最多的沙袋投进咖啡罐，谁能猜出一加仑玻璃瓶里的糖豆数量。内斯和詹姆斯参加了“父子鸡蛋赛跑”——每人头顶一个生鸡蛋向前跑，鸡蛋装在茶匙里，像上菜一样。他们一路领先，然而在快冲线时，内斯绊了一下，鸡蛋掉了。迈尔斯·富勒和他父亲得了第一名，校长哈格德夫人颁发给他们蓝绶带。
And then came the three-legged race. A teacher looped a handkerchief around Lydia’s and Nath’s ankles and they hobbled to the starting line, where other children were tethered to their parents, or to siblings, or to each other. They had hardly begun to run when Lydia caught the edge of Nath’s shoe under her own and stumbled. Nath threw an arm wide for balance and wobbled. He tried to match Lydia’s stride, but when Lydia swung her leg forward, Nath pulled back. The handkerchief around their ankles was tied so tight their feet throbbed. It didn’t loosen, yoking them together like mismatched cattle, and it didn’t come undone, even when they jerked in opposite directions and tumbled face-forward onto the soft, damp grass.
接下来是“三条腿赛跑”。一位老师用一条手绢把莉迪亚和内斯的脚踝绑在一起，他们蹒跚着来到起跑线上。那些参加比赛的孩子和他们的父母、兄弟姐妹相互绑在一起。还没开始跑，莉迪亚就被内斯的鞋帮绊了一下，身体摇晃起来，内斯伸出一只胳膊保持平衡。他想跟上莉迪亚的步伐，但莉迪亚朝前迈腿的时候，内斯无意中向后一拉。手绢捆得很紧，把两人的脚踝勒得难受，像一条套住了两头并不匹配的牲口的轭，连他们各自朝着相反方向仰面朝天地摔倒在柔软湿滑的草地上时，都没有松开。
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