Rain in the graveyard, and the world puddled into blurred reflections. Bod sat, concealed from anyone, living or dead, who might come looking for him, under the arch that separated the Egyptian Walk and the northwestern wilderness beyond it from the rest of the graveyard, and he read his book.
大雨过后，坟场变得泥糊糊、污糟糟。坟场西南方向的荒原和埃及路相接的地方有一道拱门，伯蒂正躲在这道拱门下看书。这儿很隐蔽，无论是活人还是死人，谁都找不到他。
“Damm’ee!” came a shout from down the path. “Damm’ee, sir, and blast your eyes! When I catch you — and find you I shall — I shall make you rue the day you were born!”
“该死！”小路上传来一声没好气的怒吼，“你个该死的王八蛋！等我抓到你——我就，我就让你后悔降生在这个世界上！”
Bod sighed and he lowered the book, and leaned out enough to see Thackeray Porringer (1720-1734, son of the above) come stamping up the slippery path.
伯蒂叹了口气，放下书，探出身子，看到萨克雷·波林格（1720—1734，上面那位之子）正重重地跺着地，沿着湿滑的小路走来。
Thackeray had spent five hours being sent all over the town one slushy January morning, being laughed at in each establishment he visited and then sent on to the next; when he realized he had been made a fool of, he had taken an angry case of apoplexy, which carried him off within the week, and he died glaring furiously at the other apprentices and even at Mr. Horrobin, the master painter, who had undergone so much worse back when he was a ‘prentice that he could scarcely see what all the fuss was about.
在一月的那个泥泞的早晨，萨克雷在小镇里像皮球一样被整整踢了五个小时，每进一家店，他都要先被嘲讽一番，再被轰到下一家。等意识到大伙儿都在耍他时，他火冒三丈，怒不可遏地中风了。一周后，他去世了，临死前他仍愤怒地瞪着其他学徒乃至师父霍利宾先生。当霍利宾先生还是个学徒时，他受过的苦可比这难熬多了，他怎么也想不明白现在的年轻人怎么这么经不起折腾。
Thackeray was a big boy — he had been fourteen when he died, following his initiation as an apprentice to a master house painter: he had been given eight copper pennies and told not to come back without a half-a-gallon of red and white striped paint for painting barber’s poles.
萨克雷·波林格是个大男孩。他在十四岁时去世，在刚成为一位粉刷匠的学徒不久之后：师父给了他八枚铜板，告诉他买不到半加仑红白相间的颜料来漆理发店的柱子就不许回来。
Thackeray looked up, saw Bod nestled behind the statue of Osiris. “I told you not to!”
萨克雷抬起头，看到伯蒂倚在古埃及冥神奥西里斯的雕像后头，说：“我警告过你不能拿的！”
Bod closed the book. “I’m not a thief, Thackeray. I’m only borrowing it. I promise I’ll give the book back when I’ve finished it.”
伯蒂合上书：“我不是个贼，萨克雷，我只是向你借一下而已。我保证一看完就还给你。”
Bod was ready to argue or simply to negotiate, but he saw the hurt look on Thackeray’s face, and he relented. Bod clambered down the side of the arch, jumped the last few feet. He held out the book. “Here.”
伯蒂本想和他大吵一架，至少也要据理力争，可一看到萨克雷受伤的表情，他就心软了。他从拱门一侧爬下来，三步并作两步来到萨克雷面前，把书递给萨克雷。“给你。”
So Thackeray Porringer had died in a fury, clutching his copy of Robinson Crusoe which was, apart from a silver sixpence with the edges clipped and the clothes he had formerly been standing up in, all that he owned, and, at his mother’s request, he was buried with his book. Death had not improved Thackeray Porringer’s temper, and now he was shouting, “I know you’re here somewhere! Come out and take your punishment, you, you thief!”
萨克雷·波林格就这么在暴怒中去世了，入土时他的手里抓着一本《鲁滨孙漂流记》，这是他母亲的要求。他的陪葬品还有一枚带缺口的六便士银币、他生前穿过的衣服和他的所有家当。他大声咆哮：“我知道你就在这附近！快出来，为你的偷窃行径付出代价！你个小毛贼！”
Bod sighed. “But there are so few books here. It’s just up to a good bit anyway. He’s found a footprint. It’s not his. That means someone else is on the island!”
伯蒂叹了口气：“可这儿的书太少了。现在故事正要到精彩的部分，他发现了一个脚印，不是他自己的，这意味着岛上还有别的人！”
“It’s my book,” said Thackeray Porringer, obstinately. “Give it back.”
“那是我的书。”萨克雷·波林格的语气不容商量，“还给我。”
The bigger boy stomped off down the path, and Bod watched him go, ear hurting, eyes stinging. Then he walked though the rain back down the treacherous ivy-covered path. At one point he slipped and scraped his knee, tearing his jeans.
萨克雷咚咚咚地走下山路。伯蒂看着他走远，耳朵疼，眼睛也疼。他在雨幕中穿过不太好走的常春藤小道，不小心滑了一跤，擦破了膝盖，磨破了牛仔裤。
“You could go and boil your fat head,” said Thackeray, and he swung a punch at Bod’s ear. It connected, and it stung, although judging from the look on Thackeray Porringer’s face, Bod realized it must have hurt his fist as much as it hurt Bod.
“你滚吧，猪头！”萨克雷举起拳头直击伯蒂的耳朵。拳耳相接，耳朵一阵刺痛，不过从萨克雷揪紧的脸看来，恐怕他的拳头也一样疼吧。
“I could read it to you,” offered Bod. “I could do that.”
“我可以读给你听。”伯蒂说。
Thackeray took it gracelessly, and glared.
萨克雷一把抓过书，瞪着伯蒂。
There was a willow-grove beside the wall, and Bod almost ran into Miss Euphemia Horsfall and Tom Sands, who had been stepping out together for many years. Tom had been buried so long ago that his stone was just a weathered rock, and he had lived and died during the Hundred Years War with France, while Miss Euphemia (1861-1883, She Sleeps, Aye, Yet She Sleeps with Angels) had been buried in Victorian times, after the graveyard had been expanded and extended and became, for some fifty years, a successful commercial enterprise, and she had a whole tomb to herself behind a black door in the Willow Walk. But the couple seemed to have no troubles with the difference in their historical periods.
墙边有一片杨柳林。伯蒂走得急，差点撞上尤菲米娅·霍斯福尔小姐和汤姆·桑兹先生。他俩在一起很久了。汤姆五百多年前就死了，他的墓碑久经日晒雨淋，早已残破不堪。他生活在英法百年战争时期，而尤菲米娅（1861—1883，她与天使共眠）死于维多利亚时期，那时坟场已经扩建，成了一个成功运转五十多年的商业项目。尤菲米娅拥有一整座墓园，在杨柳路边的一扇黑门后面。她与汤姆虽生于不同年代，可这丝毫没影响到他俩的深厚感情。
“And your guardian was looking for you,” added Tom.
“还有，你的监护人正在找你。”汤姆说。
“Um. Sorry,” said Bod.
“哦，是我太不小心了。”伯蒂说。
“Thank you,” said Bod. He ran on, pell-mell, through the rain and down the winding path into the lower slopes of the graveyard, running until he reached the old chapel.
“谢谢你。”伯蒂说罢匆匆跑进雨中，沿着弯曲的小路跑向坟场的低坡，来到老教堂前面。
“He’s up betimes,” said Tom, a word which, Bod knew, meant early, “and said to tell you he wanted you. If we saw you.”
“他早起了。”汤姆说，“他和我们说，如果见到你，就转告说他想见你。”
“There’s ripe hazel-nuts in the thicket just beyond the Littlejohns’ monument,” said Tom with a smile, as if softening a blow.
“小约翰纪念碑那边，密林里的榛子成熟了。”汤姆边说边温柔地笑了笑，像是想让伯蒂的心情放松一些。
The chapel door was open and Silas, who had love for neither the rain nor for the remnants of the daylight, was standing inside, in the shadows.
老教堂的门开着，不喜欢雨也不喜欢日光残照的赛拉斯正立于教堂里的阴影之中。
“I heard you were looking for me,” said Bod.
“我听说你在找我。”伯蒂说。
Bod nodded.
伯蒂点点头。
“You already did,” said Miss Euphemia. “Oh dear, Bod. I have no doubt that your mother will have words with you about that. It’s not as if we can easily repair those pantaloons.”
“你已经受伤了。”尤菲米娅说，“哦，亲爱的。我想你妈妈一定会数落你的，你这裤子可不好缝补。”
Bod looked up at the grey sky. “But it’s still daylight,” he said.
伯蒂仰望灰色的天空：“可天还没黑。”
“You should slow down, young Bod,” said Tom. “You’ll do yourself an injury.”
“你得慢点走，小伯蒂。”汤姆说，“你会受伤的。”
“Yes,” said Silas. Then, “It appears you’ve torn your trousers.”
“对。”赛拉斯说，“你好像把裤子弄破了。”
“I was running,” said Bod. “Um. I got into a bit of a fight with Thackeray Porringer. I wanted to read Robinson Crusoe. It’s a book about a man on a boat — that’s a thing that goes in the sea, which is water like an enormous puddle — and how the ship is wrecked on an island, which is a place on the sea where you can stand, and –“
“我是跑过来的。”伯蒂说，“我和萨克雷·波林格吵架了。我想看他的书《鲁滨孙漂流记》。这本书讲了一个男人乘船出海，船是能在海上前行的东西，而海是一个特别大的水塘，接着他乘坐的船失事了，他只身漂流到一座岛上，岛是大海里你能站脚的地方，然后——”
Silas said, “It has been eleven years, Bod. Eleven years that you have been with us.”
“伯蒂，十一年了，你和我们在一起已经十一年了。”赛拉斯说。
“Right,” said Bod. “If you say so.”
“没错。”伯蒂说，“你说十一年就十一年。”
Inside the old chapel, it was all shadows.
老教堂里影影绰绰。
Silas looked down at his charge. The boy was lean, and his mouse-colored hair had darkened slightly with age.
赛拉斯低头看着自己一手养大的孩子。男孩很瘦，鼠灰色的头发已随年龄的增长而慢慢变深。
“I think,” said Silas, “it is time to talk about where you came from.”
“我想，”赛拉斯说，“是时候和你聊一聊你的来历了。”
Bod breathed in deeply. He said, “It doesn’t have to be now. Not if you don’t want to.” He said it as easily as he could, but his heart was thudding in his chest.
伯蒂深吸一口气，说：“没必要现在就说，你不想说就别说了。”他尽量说得轻描淡写，可心脏却在怦怦直跳。
Silence. Only the patter of the rain and the wash of the water from the drainpipes. A silence that stretched until Bod thought that he would break.
一片寂静，只剩下啪嗒啪嗒的雨声和排水管里的水流声。漫长的寂静让伯蒂按捺不住。
Silas said, “Out there, the man who killed your family is, I believe, still looking for you, still intends to kill you.”
赛拉斯说：“我想在外界，那个杀死你家人的人仍在找你，仍想杀了你。”
“And you,” said Bod, who had had that night described to him over the years by many people, some of whom had even been there. It had been a big night in the graveyard.
“还因为你。”伯蒂说。几年来，他已经听过好多人讲述那一夜的事，有些人还是亲历者。那一夜对坟场来说是个非凡的夜晚。
Bod said nothing.
伯蒂沉默。
Bod shrugged. “So?” he said. “It’s only death. I mean, all of my best friends are dead.”
伯蒂耸了耸肩：“那又如何？不就是死吗？我是说，我最好的朋友全是死人啊。”
Silas said, “You know you’re different. That you are alive. That we took you in — they took you in here — and that I agreed to be your guardian.”
赛拉斯说：“你知道，你是不同的。你是活人。我们接纳了你，应该说是他们接纳了你，而我同意做你的监护人。”
“Yes.” Silas hesitated. “They are. And they are, for the most part, done with the world. You are not. You’re alive, Bod. That means you have infinite potential. You can do anything, make anything, dream anything. If you change the world, the world will change. Potential. Once you’re dead, it’s gone. Over. You’ve made what you’ve made, dreamed your dream, written your name. You may be buried here, you may even walk. But that potential is finished.”
“没错。”赛拉斯犹豫了，“他们的确是死人，而且大体也与这个世界没有了联系。可你不同，你还活着，伯蒂。这意味着你有无限的潜能。你什么事都能做，什么东西都能创造，什么梦想都能挑战。如果你想要改变世界，世界就会因你而改变。这就是潜能。可你一死，潜能就没了，就什么都没了。你有所成就，有所突破，还在世间留下了你的名字。你可能会被埋在这里，甚至还能行走，可你没了潜能。”
Silas continued, in his voice like velvet, “You had parents. An older sister. They were killed. I believe that you were to have been killed as well, and that you were not was due to chance, and the intervention of the Owenses.”
赛拉斯用天鹅绒般的嗓音继续说：“你有父母，有一个姐姐。他们被杀害了。你本来也会被杀死，但你因为运气以及欧文斯夫妇的介入而幸免于难。”
“Not really.”
“没太懂。”
“Well, you aren’t alive. And you go around and do things.”
“你不是活人吧。你云游四方，做这做那。”
“Yes. He’s still out there.”
“没错，他还在外界。”
Bod said, “The person who hurt my family. The one who wants to kill me. You are certain that he’s still out there?” It was something he had been thinking about for a while now, and he knew what he wanted.
“那个伤害我家人的人，那个想杀我的人，你确定他还在外界？”伯蒂问。关于这件事他已经考虑良久，他知道自己想要什么。
“I,” said Silas, “am precisely what I am, and nothing more. I am, as you say, not alive. But if I am ended, I shall simply cease to be. My kind are, or we are not. If you see what I mean.”
“嗯。”赛拉斯说，“我就是我，不是其他的什么。如你所说，我不是活人。如果我结束了这种状态，我就不复存在了。我这类人只有两种状态，要么存在，要么不存在。你听懂了吗？”
“What about you?” he asked Silas.
“那你呢？”伯蒂问。
Bod thought about this. It seemed almost true, although he could think of exceptions — his parents adopting him, for example. But the dead and the living were different, he knew that, even if his sympathies were with the dead.
伯蒂思考了一下这番话，听上去句句在理，不过他也想到了例外，比如欧文斯夫妇收养了他这件事。但死者和活人形同陌路，这一点他心知肚明，即使他的感情天平更倾向于死者。
Silas sighed. The rain was done and the cloudy gloaming had become true twilight. “Bod,” he said, “there are many reasons why it is important that we keep you safe.”
赛拉斯叹了口气。雨已经停了，朦胧的暮色渐渐变得清润。“伯蒂，我们保护你是出于很多原因。”
“What about me?”
“我怎么？”
“Then,” said Bod, and said the unsayable, “I want to go to school.”
“那样的话，”伯蒂语不惊人死不休，“我要去上学。”
Silas was imperturbable. The world could have ended, and he would not have turned a hair. But now his mouth opened and his brow furrowed, and he said only,
赛拉斯向来沉着冷静，即使世界末日来临，他的内心应该依然波澜不惊。可眼下他张大嘴巴，皱起眉头，只吐出两个字：
“Yes,” agreed Bod. “That’s the potential thing you were talking about.” He fell silent. Then, “Someone killed my mother and my father and my sister.”
“没错，这就是你刚才所说的‘潜能’。”伯蒂表示赞同。沉默片刻后，他接着说：“有人杀了我的父母和姐姐。”
Twigs scratched against the high windows, as if they needed to be let in. Silas flicked an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve with a fingernail as sharp as a blade. He said, “We will need to find you a school.”
树枝刮擦高塔的窗户，仿佛想钻进去。赛拉斯用刀锋般的指甲掸去衣袖上一片看不见的灰尘，说：“我们会给你找一所学校。”
“A man?”
“一个男人？”
“No?”
“不是吗？”
“Well,” said Bod. “If I go outside in the world, the question isn’t ‘who will keep me safe from him?'”
“如果我到了外面的世界，”伯蒂说，“那问题不是谁将保护我，不让他伤害我——”
“Yes. Someone did.”
“没错。”
“A man.”
“对。”
“Which means,” said Bod, “you’re asking the wrong question.”
“这意味着，你问错问题了。”
Silas raised an eyebrow. “How so?”
赛拉斯挑起一边眉毛：“怎么说？”
“I’ve learned a lot in this graveyard,” said Bod. “I can Fade and I can Haunt. I can open a ghoul-gate and I know the constellations. But there’s a world out there, with the sea in it, and islands, and shipwrecks and pigs. I mean, it’s filled with things I don’t know. And the teachers here have taught me lots of things, but I need more. If I’m going to survive out there, one day.”
“我在坟场里学了很多，”伯蒂说，“我会隐身术，我会阴魂不散法，我能打开食尸鬼之门，我还认识星座。可坟场之外还有另一个世界，那里有大海，有岛屿，有失事的船只，还有猪。我是说，外面的世界满是我不了解的东西。这里的老师教了我许多知识，但我需要更多，如果有朝一日我想在外界活下去的话。”
Silas seemed unimpressed. “Out of the question. Here we can keep you safe. How could we keep you safe, out there? Outside, anything could happen.”
赛拉斯不为所动：“这绝不可能。在这里我们能护你周全，可到了外面怎么办？在外面，什么都可能发生。”
“What?”
“什么？”
“No. It’s ‘who will keep him safe from me?'”
“不是，问题是谁将保护他，不让我伤害他。”
“I don’t see why that makes him religious,” said Mrs. McKinnon, who had taken up crocheting when they had banned smoking in the staff room, and was sitting and crocheting a baby blanket for no one in particular.
“我没看出这和信仰有什么关系。”麦金农太太正坐在座位上用钩针钩一条婴儿毯，这并不是特地为谁做的。自从办公室禁烟后，她就开始用钩针编织东西。
“Whose family?” asked Mrs. McKinnon.
“谁家？”麦金农夫人问。
“I don’t think so. Sort of medium height.”
“我想不是，他身高中等吧。”
Mr. Kirby shrugged. “He’s a smart lad,” he said. “There’s just stuff he doesn’t know. And in History he’ll throw in little made-up details, stuff not in the books…”
柯比先生耸了耸肩，说：“那个孩子很聪明，只是不知道一些常识。还有，学历史时他会编出一些书本上没有的细节。”
“The tall spotty lad?”
“个子高高，满脸粉刺的那个？”
Mrs. McKinnon shrugged. “What about him?”
麦金农夫人耸了耸肩，问：“他怎么了？”
“He says they don’t have a computer.”
“他说他们家没有电脑。”
No one noticed the boy, not at first. No one even noticed that they hadn’t noticed him. He sat halfway back in class. He didn’t answer much, not unless he was directly asked a question, and even then his answers were short and forgettable, colorless: he faded, in mind and in memory.
没人注意到那个男孩，起码一开始没有。没人记得他是什么时候来到这个班的。他坐在教室后排中部，不怎么主动回答问题，除非被点名。就算被点名，他的回答也简短乏味，让人扭头就忘。也就是说，他能在他人的意识和记忆中隐去身形。
“And?”
“然后呢？”
“And that makes him religious because…?”
“这和信不信教有什么关系？”
“Do you think they’re religious, his family?” asked Mr. Kirby, in the teachers’ staff room. He was marking essays.
“你觉得他们一家子信教吗？”柯比先生在教师办公室里问。他正在批改作文。
“Owens in Eight B,” said Mr. Kirby.
“初二（2）班的欧文斯。”
“Handwrites everything,” said Mr. Kirby. “Lovely handwriting. What they used to call copperplate.”
“他什么都用手写，字非常漂亮，他写的字体以前叫铜板体。”
“He doesn’t have a phone.”
“他还没有手机。”
Mr. Kirby finished marking Bod’s essay and put it down on the pile. Without something immediately in front of him the whole matter seemed vague and unimportant. “Stuff,” he said, and forgot about it. Just as he forgot to enter Bod’s name on the roll. Just as Bod’s name was not to be found on the school databases.
柯比先生批完伯蒂的作文，放到一叠作文本上。若眼前没有实实在在的东西，一切都显得模糊不清且无关紧要。“常识…”他嘟囔着，转眼就忘了这事，正如同他忘了将伯蒂的名字添到花名册上，如同伯蒂的名字在学校的数据库里搜不到一样。
The boy was a model pupil, forgettable and easily forgotten, and he spent much of his spare time in the back of the English class where there were shelves of old paperbacks, and in the school library, a large room filled with books and old armchairs, where he read stories as enthusiastically as some children ate.
这个男孩是个模范学生，但大家不知不觉就会忘了他。大多数空闲时间，他不是在英语教室的后方，就是在图书馆。英语教室里有好多排书架，放满了古旧的简装书。图书馆很大，满满的全是书和老旧的扶手椅，他可以在那儿如饥似渴地读书。
“What kind of stuff?”
“他不知道什么常识？”
Even the other kids forgot about him. Not when he was sitting in front of them: they remembered him then. But when that Owens kid was out of sight he was out of mind. They didn’t think about him. They didn’t need to. If someone asked all the kids in Eight B to close their eyes and list the twenty-five boys and girls in the class, that Owens kid wouldn’t have been on the list. His presence was almost ghostly.
连同班同学也无法记住伯蒂，只有伯蒂坐在他们面前时，他们才会想起他。可一旦伯蒂从他们的视野中消失，他这个人也会从他们的脑海中消失，他们根本不会想到他，也不需要想到他。如果让初二（2）班的孩子们闭上眼睛，说出班里二十五个男孩女孩的名字，他们不会说出伯蒂。他的存在就像幽灵一样难以捉摸。
“The Singh kid hasn’t coughed up yet,” said Mo. “You’ll have to find him.”
“那个叫辛格的还没上交零花钱呢。”莫说，“你得去找他。”
They were sitting in the corner of the library splitting their take of the year sevens’ pocket money. They had eight or nine of the eleven-year-olds trained to hand over their pocket money every week.
此时，两人正坐在图书馆的角落里分钱。他们制住了八九个初一的孩子，让他们每周上交零花钱。
It was different if he was there, of course.
当然，他在场时就不一样了。
Nick Farthing was twelve, but he could pass — and did sometimes — for sixteen: a large boy with a crooked smile, and little imagination. He was practical, in a basic sort of way, an efficient shoplifter, and occasional thug who did not care about being liked as long as the other kids, all smaller, did what he said. Anyway, he had a friend. Her name was Maureen Quilling, but everyone called her Mo, and she was thin and had pale skin and pale yellow hair, watery blue eyes, and a sharp, inquisitive nose. Nick liked to shoplift, but Mo told him what to steal. Nick could hit and hurt and intimidate, but Mo pointed him at the people who needed to be intimidated. They were, as she told him sometimes, a perfect team.
尼克·法思因，十二岁，但说他十六岁也有人会信。他体格高大，嘴角总挂着奸笑，缺乏想象力。总的来看，他是个讲究实际的家伙，在商店偷东西时极有效率，偶尔还会露出恶霸的一面。他逼迫个头比他小的孩子对他言听计从，毫不顾忌自己的形象。不过呢，他有个朋友，叫莫琳·奎林，大家都叫她莫。莫很瘦小，肤色浅淡，长着淡黄的头发、水汪汪的蓝眼睛和总爱东嗅西探的尖鼻子。尼克喜欢在商店里偷东西，不过告诉他偷什么的是莫。尼克会伤人，会恐吓，但怂恿他去欺负那些人的是莫。莫有时会告诉他，他俩是绝佳拍档。
“Easy,” said Nick. “We’re a good team.”
“小菜一碟。”尼克说，“我们是绝佳拍档。”
Nick nodded.
尼克点点头。
The other boy shook his head. “Nope. I think that they are fairly repulsive.” He hesitated. Then he said, “Actually, I came to give you a bit of advice.”
男孩摇了摇头。“不，我觉得他们很讨厌。”他犹豫了一下，接着说，“其实，我能给你一点建议。”
Paul Singh was sitting on a windowsill by the changing rooms, his hands deep in his pockets, thinking dark thoughts. He took one hand out of his pocket, opened it, looked at the handful of pound coins, shook his head, closed his hand around the coins once more.
保罗·辛格正坐在更衣室的窗沿边，双手深深插进口袋，心事重重。他从口袋里抽出一只手，张开，看着手心里的一把硬币，摇了摇头，把手合拢。
“More like Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde,” said somebody, who had been reading, unnoticed, in a window seat, and he got up and walked out of the room.
“莫不如说，更像杰奇医生和海德[1]。”有人接话。那人正坐在窗边的一张椅子上看书，尼克和莫都没注意到他。那人站起身，走出房间。【注：[1]杰奇医生和海德（Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde）：这两个人物出自19世纪英国作家史蒂文生的科幻小说《化身博士》。心地善良、受人尊敬的杰奇医生研制出一种变身药水，可以令他在夜晚化身为邪恶可怕、毫无人性的恶人海德四处作恶。后来“Jekyll and Hyde”一词成为心理学“双重人格”的代称。文中暗指表面与人为善的莫暗地里驱使尼克作恶，释放自己压抑的邪恶天性。】
“Like Batman and Robin,” said Mo.
“就像蝙蝠侠和罗宾。”莫说。
“What was it he nicked? A CD?”
“他偷了什么？一张CD？”
Paul said, “Are you with them? Nick and Mo?”
“尼克和莫，你和他们一伙的吗？”保罗问。
“Is that what Nick and Mo are waiting for?” somebody asked, and Paul jumped, scattering money all over the floor.
“这是尼克和莫在等的钱吗？”有人问。保罗吓了一跳，把钱币撒了一地。
“Just point out the error of his ways,” said Mo, who wanted to sound like the hard cases from the television.
“指出他的不良行径，让他乖乖就范。”莫努力装出侦破疑难案件的电视节目中主持人的腔调。
The other boy helped him pick the coins up, handed them over. He was an older boy, and Paul thought he had seen him around before, but he could not be certain.
问话的男孩帮他捡起硬币，递给他。男孩年纪比他大，让他觉得似曾相识。
“Yeah,” said Nick, “he’ll pay.”
“好。”尼克说，“他会乖乖把钱交出来的。”
Paul nodded.
保罗点点头。
“They’ll kill me. And they said…”
“他们会杀了我的。他们还说…”
“Easy for you to say.”
“说得轻巧。”
The boy looked at Paul and Paul looked away, ashamed.
男孩看向保罗，保罗羞耻地扭开头。
“Yeah?”
“嗯？”
“They hit you or threatened you until you shoplifted a CD for them. Then they told you that unless you handed over your pocket money to them, they’d tell on you. What did they do, film you doing it?”
“他们打你，威胁你，逼你到商店给他们偷CD，然后又跟你说，如果你不交出零花钱就去告发你。他们做了什么？拍了你偷东西的过程吗？”
“Don’t pay them.”
“别给他们钱。”
“Tell them that you think the police and school authorities could be a lot more interested in a couple of kids who are getting younger kids to steal for them and then forcing them to hand over their pocket money than they ever would be in one kid forced to steal a CD against his will. That if they touch you again, you’ll make the call to the police. And that you’ve written it all up, and if anything happens to you, anything at all, if you get a black eye or anything, your friends will automatically send it to the school authorities and the police.”
“告诉他们，你觉得比起一个孩子被逼着去偷CD，警方和校方会更在意有两个孩子胁迫年纪更小的孩子为他们偷东西，还逼迫他们交出零花钱。告诉他们，如果他们再碰你，你就报警。再和他们说，你已经把事情的来龙去脉都写下来了。如果你出了什么事，比如眼睛被打青了，你的朋友就会把你写好的东西交给学校和警方。”
“Because they aren’t blackmailing me?”
“就因为他们勒索你了？”
Paul said, “But. I can’t.”
保罗说：“可…可我做不到。”
“Just say no,” said the boy. “Don’t do it.”
“直接说不。”男孩说，“别给他们钱。”
“Then you’ll pay them your pocket money for the rest of your time in this school. And you’ll stay scared of them.”
“那么只要你还在学校，你就得一直上交零花钱，一直对他俩心怀恐惧。”
Paul thought. “Why don’t I just tell the police anyway?” he asked.
保罗想了想，问：“我为什么不直接报警呢？”
So Paul Singh explained to Nick Farthing just how and why he wouldn’t be paying him any longer, and walked away while Nick Farthing just stood and didn’t say anything, clenching and unclenching his fists.
就这样，保罗·辛格向尼克解释了他为何不会再给他钱，说完之后扬长而去，留下尼克呆立原地，一句话也说不上来，拳头捏紧又松开。
And the next day another five eleven-year-olds found Nick Farthing in the playground, and told him they wanted their money back, all the pocket money they’d handed over in the previous month, or they’d be going to the police, and now Nick Farthing was an extremely unhappy young man.
第二天，另外五个初一孩子到操场上找到尼克，向他讨要几个月来他们上交的所有零花钱，一分都不能少，不还的话他们就报警。这让尼克极其不爽。
“Can if you like.”
“那样也可以。”
“I’ll try it your way first,” Paul said. He smiled. It wasn’t a big smile, but it was a smile, right enough, his first in three weeks.
“先试试你说的办法。”保罗笑了。不是彻底开怀的笑，但至少他笑了，这是他三周来第一次笑。
Mo said, “It was him. He started it. If it wasn’t for him… they’d never have thought of it on their own. He’s the one we have to teach a lesson. Then they’ll all behave.”
莫说：“是他，是他干的，如果不是他…就凭那些人的榆木脑袋，怎么可能想得出这种办法？我们应该先把他教训一顿，这样一来，其他人就会老实了。”
“Who?” said Nick.
“谁？”尼克问。
“The one who’s always reading. The one from the library. Bob Owens. Him.”
“老是在看书的那个家伙，图书馆那个，鲍勃·欧文斯。”
“I’ll point him out to you,” said Mo.
“我指给你看。”
Nick nodded slowly. Then he said, “Which one is he?”
尼克缓缓点头，然后问：“哪个人？”
They followed him out of the school and up the road, past the corner newsagent, and across the railway bridge. He took his time, making certain that the two who were following him, a burly boy and a fair, sharp-faced girl, did not lose him, then he walked into the tiny churchyard at the end of the road, a miniature graveyard behind the local church and he waited beside the tomb of Roderick Persson and his wife Amabella, and also his second wife, Portunia, (They Sleep to Wake Again).
他们尾随他离开学校，走上马路，路过拐角的书报亭，穿过铁路桥。他不紧不慢地走着，确保身后的两人不会跟丢：一个高大魁梧的男孩和一个面相尖刻的女孩。他走进马路尽头当地教堂后方的一片小小的墓地，在罗迪·佩森和他的妻子安贝拉及第二任妻子波尔图纳（他们长眠于此，等待复活之日）的墓旁等待。
Bod was used to being ignored, to existing in the shadows. When glances naturally slip from you, you become very aware of eyes upon you, of glances in your direction, of attention. And if you barely exist in people’s minds as another living person then being pointed to, being followed around… these things draw attention to themselves.
伯蒂习惯了待在阴影之中，不被他人注意。当目光会很自然地掠过你时，你就会对落在你身上的视线、朝向你的目光和针对你的关注极其敏锐。如果你在他人的脑海中几乎不存在，却有人对你指指点点，还紧跟不舍…你自然会别样在意。
“You’re that kid,” said a girl’s voice. “Bob Owens. Well, you’re in really big trouble, Bob Owens.”
“找的就是你。”一个女孩的声音响起，“鲍勃·欧文斯，听着，你有大麻烦了。”
“It’s Bod, actually,” said Bod, and he looked at them. “With a D. And you’re Jekyll and Hyde.”
“我其实叫伯蒂。”伯蒂看着他们说，“BOD，不是BOB。你们是杰奇和海德。”
“I quite like lessons,” said Bod. “If you paid more attention to yours, you wouldn’t have to blackmail younger kids for pocket money.”
“哦，我可喜欢上课了。”伯蒂说，“如果你们专心听课，就不会有心思去敲诈低年级学生的零花钱了。”
“You didn’t bring us here,” said Nick.
“不是你带我们来这里的。”尼克说。
Bod said, “You’re missing the point, I’m afraid. You two need to stop this. Stop behaving like other people don’t matter. Stop hurting people.”
伯蒂说：“恐怕你们没明白我的意思。你们不能再像之前那样为非作歹，不把其他人当一回事了。别再伤害他人了。”
Mo looked around nervously. “You’ve got friends here?” she asked.
莫紧张地四处张望：“你有朋友在这儿？”
Nick’s brow crinkled. Then he said, “You’re dead, Owens.”
尼克皱紧眉头，说：“欧文斯，你死定了。”
“So we’re going to teach you a lesson,” said Nick Farthing, and he smiled without humor.
“所以我们现在要给你好好上一课。”尼克皮笑肉不笑地说。
“It was you,” said the girl. “You got to the seventh formers.”
“就是你。”女孩说，“你找过那几个初一的孩子。”
“You’re here,” said Bod. “I wanted you here. I came here. You followed me. Same thing.”
“你们来了。”伯蒂说，“我想让你们来这里。我过来了，你们跟着我。一回事。”
“The people in this place,” said Bod. “Look. I brought you here to give you a choice –“
“这个地方的人。”伯蒂说，“看吧，我带你们来这里，是为了给你们一个机会——”
“I gave you a chance,” said Bod.
“我给过你们机会了。”伯蒂说。
Bod shook his head, and he gestured around him. “I’m not actually,” he said. “They are.”
伯蒂摇摇头，指了指四周，说：“我没死。死的是他们。”
“Who are?” said Mo.
“谁？”莫问。
Mo grinned a sharp grin. “For heaven’s sake,” she said to Nick. “Hit him.”
莫冷冷一笑。“老天啊。”她对尼克说，“揍他。”
Nick swung a vicious fist at Bod, who was no longer there, and Nick’s fist slammed into the side of the gravestone.
尼克猛地冲伯蒂出了一拳，却打空了，硬生生地砸在墓碑角上。伯蒂不见了。
Nick had little imagination, and he was not about to start thinking now. “Maybe he ran away,” he said.
尼克缺乏想象力，也不打算思考：“也许他跑了。”
“Where did he go?” said Mo. Nick was swearing and shaking his hand. She looked around the shadowy cemetery, puzzled. “He was here. You know he was.”
“他到哪儿去了？”莫问。尼克正一边咒骂一边甩手。莫环视一圈影影绰绰的墓地，摸不着头脑。“他刚才还在这儿的，你看到了。”
Nick didn’t say anything. He just ran, and Mo ran close on his heels. The streetlights were coming on as they ran back towards the world, turning the twilight into night, making the shadows into dark places in which anything could be happening.
尼克什么都没说，拔腿就跑，莫紧跟其后。他们跑向活人的世界。街灯亮了起来，将黄昏变为夜晚，将阴影之处变为黑暗之境，在那里，什么都有可能发生。
Mo felt something unsettled in the pit of her stomach. The shadows seemed to move around them.
莫觉得心里很不踏实，似乎有许多阴影在围着她打转。
“He didn’t run,” said Mo. “He just wasn’t there anymore.” Mo had an imagination. The ideas were hers. It was twilight in a spooky churchyard, and the hairs on the back of her neck were prickling. “Something is really, really wrong,” said Mo. Then she said, in a higher-pitched panicky voice, “We have to get out of here.”
“他没跑。”莫说，“他只是躲起来了。”莫想象力丰富，向来都是她出点子。现在正值黄昏，教堂墓地阴森可怖，让她的后颈寒毛直竖。“这非常，非常不对劲。”莫的音调陡然拔高，变得惊慌失措，“我们快点离开！”
“I’m going to find that kid,” said Nick Farthing. “I’m going to beat the stuffing out of him.”
“我要找到那个小兔崽子。”尼克说，“打得他满地找牙，屁滚尿流。”
“Nick,” said Mo, “I’m scared.”
“尼克，我好害怕。”
Fear is contagious. You can catch it. Sometimes all it takes is for someone to say that they’re scared for the fear to become real. Mo was terrified, and now Nick was too.
恐惧能够传染，谁都难以幸免。有时，一旦有人说出自己害怕，恐惧就会变得真实。一开始只有莫害怕，现在尼克也害怕了。
They ran until they reached Nick’s house, and they went inside and turned on all the lights, and Mo called her mother and demanded, half crying, to be picked up and driven the short distance to her own house, because she wasn’t walking home that night.
他们跑啊跑，直到跑到尼克的家。进屋后，他们将所有灯开得大亮。莫给母亲打电话，哭着让母亲开车来接她。尽管她家离这里很近，但那一夜，她不敢自己走回家。
“That was good, dear,” said someone behind him, a tall woman in white. “A nice Fade, first. Then the Fear.”
“干得不错。”有人在伯蒂身后说，是个穿白衣的高个子女人，“先是漂亮的隐身术，再是巧妙的恐惧术。”
“The live boy? From the big graveyard on the hill? Really?”
“你是那个活人男孩？山坡上大坟场里的那个？”
“Thank you,” said Bod. “I hadn’t even tried the Fear out on living people. I mean, I knew the theory, but. Well.”
“谢谢。”伯蒂说，“我还从没在活人身上施展过恐惧术呢。我是说，我只知道理论，不过…”
“It worked a treat,” she said, cheerfully. “I’m Amabella Persson.”
“干得漂亮。”女人开心地说，“我叫安贝拉·佩森。”
Bod had watched them run with satisfaction.
伯蒂看着他们落荒而逃，真是大快人心啊。
“Bod. Nobody Owens.”
“我叫伯蒂，诺伯蒂·欧文斯。”
There were three of them there, then, and Amabella was introducing Bod and he was shaking hands and saying, “Charmed, I am sure,” because he could greet people politely over nine hundred years of changing manners.
这下，一共三人围了上来。安贝拉向两人介绍伯蒂。伯蒂行礼致意：“我很荣幸。”他知道如何礼貌地问候九百年来任何时代的人。
“Um.” Bod hadn’t realized that anyone knew who he was beyond his own graveyard. Amabella was knocking on the side of the tomb. “Roddy? Portunia? Come and see who’s here!”
“嗯。”伯蒂还没意识到坟场外也有人认识他。安贝拉敲了敲坟墓侧面：“罗迪、波尔图纳，快出来瞧瞧谁来了。”
“A Frightening is certainly a good beginning,” said Portunia Persson, who was a stout woman, much older than Amabella. “And what have you planned if it does not work?”
“恐惧术的确开了个好头。”波尔图纳·佩森说，她身材敦实，年纪比安贝拉大，“如果恐惧术不奏效，你打算怎么做？”
“I should suggest that Dreamwalking might be the most efficient remedy. You can Dreamwalk, can you not?”
“我想梦游术的效果最好。你会梦游术吗？”
“Good show,” said Roderick Persson. “Bounders guilty of reprehensible behavior, eh?”
“干得好。”罗迪·佩森说，“对方是品行不端的小无赖吗？”
“Master Owens here was frightening some children who doubtless deserved it,” Amabella was explaining.
“欧文斯先生吓跑了一些坏孩子。他们活该。”安贝拉解释道。
“I hadn’t really thought –” Bod began, but Amabella interrupted.
“我没仔细想过——”伯蒂话说到一半，被安贝拉打断。
“They were bullies,” said Bod. “Making kids hand over their pocket money. Stuff like that.”
“他们以大欺小，”伯蒂说，“比如逼其他孩子交出零花钱。”
“Oh,” said Amabella. “A Visitation? Portunia my dear, I don’t really think so –“
“灵魂访问？”安贝拉说，“哦，亲爱的波尔图纳，我不认同——”
Portunia Persson said, “Dreamwalking is all very well, but might I suggest a good Visitation? That’s the only language that these people understand.”
波尔图纳说：“梦游术是很不错，但为何不来个灵魂访问呢？这是唯一能让那些人理解的沟通方式。”
“I’m not sure,” said Bod. “Mister Pennyworth showed me how, but I haven’t really — well, there’s things I only really know in theory, and –“
“不好说。彭尼沃斯先生教过我，可我没有…好吧，有些东西我只知道理论——
“No, you don’t. Luckily, one of us thinks.”
“随你怎么想。不过，我觉得管用。”
“I have to be getting home,” said Bod, hastily. “They’ll be worrying about me.”
“我得赶快回家了。”伯蒂急切地说，“不然他们会担心我的。”
“Silas? Yes, he’s fine.”
“赛拉斯？他挺好的。”
“Of course,” said the Persson family, and “Lovely to meet you,” and “A very good evening to you, young man.” Amabella Persson and Portunia Persson glared at each other. Roderick Persson said, “If you’ll forgive me asking, but your guardian. He is well?”
“好的。很高兴遇见你。祝你度过一个美好的夜晚。”安贝拉和波尔图纳继续怒目而视。罗迪对伯蒂说：“恕我冒昧，请问你的监护人他还好吗？”
“Give him our regards. I’m afraid a small churchyard like this, well, we’re never going to meet an actual member of the Honour Guard. Still. It’s good to know that they’re there.”
“请代我们向他问好。恐怕在这么个小小的教堂墓地，我们永远也见不到荣誉卫士的一员。不过，知道他们在那儿，我们就很安心。”
He picked up his bag of schoolbooks, and he walked home, taking comfort in the shadows.
他拿起书包，步入让他倍感舒适的阴影之中，向家走去。
“Good night,” said Bod, who had no idea what the man was talking about, but filed it away for later. “I’ll tell him.”
“晚安。”伯蒂说，虽然不明白罗迪在说什么，他还是将这事放在了心上，“我会告诉他的。”
Mr. Pennyworth had little to complain of these days. Bod studied hard, and asked questions.
这些天，彭尼沃斯先生对伯蒂的学习态度无从抱怨。伯蒂学得很认真，还时不时提问。
Going to school with the living did not excuse Bod from his lessons with the dead. The nights were long, and sometimes Bod would apologize and crawl to bed exhausted before midnight. Mostly, he just kept going.
和活人一起上学并不能成为不上死人课程的借口。长夜漫漫，伯蒂有时累得不行，就只好在午夜前向老师道歉请求早退，爬到床上后倒头就睡。但多数时候，他会坚持把课上完。
Tonight Bod asked about Hauntings, getting more and more specific, which exasperated Mr. Pennyworth, who had never gone in for that sort of thing himself.
今夜，伯蒂问了阴魂不散法该怎么施展，他问得越来越具体，让彭尼沃斯先生很是恼怒，因为他自己从没仔细钻研过这门法术。
“How exactly do I make a cold spot in the air?” he asked, and “I think I’ve got Fear down, but how do I take it up all the way to Terror?” and Mr. Pennyworth sighed and hurrumphed and did his best to explain, and it was gone four in the morning before they were done.
“我该怎么在空中制造出一个冷点？”伯蒂问，“我想我已经掌握了恐惧术，但我怎么才能把它升级成恐惧大法？”彭尼沃斯先生叹了口气，清了清嗓子，绞尽脑汁为伯蒂解释。等到下课时，已是清晨四点。
Bod was tired at school the next day. The first class was History — a subject Bod mostly enjoyed, although he often had to resist the urge to say that it hadn’t happened like that, not according to people who had been there anyway — but this morning Bod was fighting to stay awake.
第二天上学时，伯蒂很累。第一堂课是历史，他向来非常喜欢的一门课，尽管他经常得忍住冲动，不去反驳说事实不是这样的，至少亲历者不是这么说的。可今天上午，他一直在和困意作斗争。
He was doing all he could do to concentrate on the lesson, so he was not paying attention to much else going on around him. He was thinking about King Charles the First, and about his parents, of Mr. and Mrs. Owens and of the other family, the one he could not remember, when there was a knock on the door. The class and Mr. Kirby all looked to see who was there (it was a year seven, who had been sent to borrow a textbook). And as they turned, Bod felt something stab in the back of his hand. He did not cry out. He just looked up.
他竭尽全力专心听课，对周围发生的事一点都没关注。他一会儿想着查理国王一世，一会儿想着他的父母——养父母欧文斯夫妇，还有他记不得的亲生父母。这时响起了敲门声，全班同学和柯比先生扭头看去。门口是个初一男孩，有人派他来借一本教科书。大家转头时，伯蒂感到自己的手背被扎了一下。他没有痛呼，只是抬起头。
Nick Farthing grinned down at him, a sharpened pencil in his fist. “I’m not afraid of you,” whispered Nick Farthing.
尼克正居高临下地冲他咧嘴笑，手里捏着一根削尖的铅笔。“我不怕你。”他低声说。
“I didn’t come here for friends,” said Bod truthfully. “I came here to learn.”
“我来这儿不是为了交朋友，”伯蒂实话实说，“我是来学习的。”
“I’m not afraid of you,” she said. “Whatever trick you did yesterday. You didn’t scare me.”
“我不怕你。”莫说，“不管你昨天耍了什么把戏，你没有吓到我。”
Bod looked at the back of his hand. A small drop of blood welled up where the point of the pencil had punctured it.
伯蒂低头看了看自己的手背，一滴血正从伤口中沁出来。
Mo Quilling passed Bod in the corridor that afternoon, her eyes so wide he could see the whites all around them.
当天下午，莫在走廊里碰到伯蒂。她的眼睛大得出奇，眼珠边的一圈眼白都看得到。
Mo’s nose twitched. “Do you know how weird that is?” She asked. “Nobody comes to school to learn. I mean, you come because you have to.”
莫抽了下鼻子：“你不知道这有多怪吗？没人是来学校学习的，我是说，大伙儿来学校是因为不得不来。”
“You’re weird,” she said. “You don’t have any friends.”
“你很古怪。”莫说，“你没有朋友。”
He wondered if he had made a mistake, getting involved. He had made a mis-step in judgment, that was for certain. Mo and Nick had begun to talk about him, probably the year sevens had as well. Other kids were looking at him, pointing him out to each other. He was becoming a presence, rather than an absence, and that made him uncomfortable. Silas had warned him to keep a low profile, told him to go through school partly Faded, but everything was changing.
卷进这件事，他是不是错了？他失策了，这毫无疑问。莫和尼克开始谈论他，整个年级似乎都开始关注他，对着他指指点点，议论纷纷。他渐渐变得真实存在，而不再于他人的意识中缺席。这让他很不舒服。赛拉斯警告过他要保持低调，在学校里来往要半隐半现，可这样的平静被打破了。
“Okay,” said Bod, and he walked on down the corridor.
“知道了。”伯蒂说罢，沿着走廊走开了。
Bod shrugged.
伯蒂耸了耸肩。
“I cannot believe,” said Silas, “that you could have been so… so stupid. Everything I told you about remaining just this side of invisibility. And now you’ve become the talk of the school?”
“我真不敢相信，”赛拉斯说，“你竟然能这么…愚蠢。我千叮咛万嘱咐，要你务必处于隐身状态，而你倒好，反倒成了学校的焦点。”
He talked to his guardian that evening, told him the whole story. He was not expecting Silas’s reaction.
当晚，伯蒂把发生过的一切告诉了赛拉斯。赛拉斯的反应出乎他的意料。
“Well, what did you want me to do?”
“好吧，那你说我当时该怎么做？”
“It’s not something in which I’ve ever taken pleasure,” said Silas. “So. You don’t go back to school tomorrow.”
“这种感觉我并不理解。”赛拉斯说，“所以说，明天你别去上学了。”
“Not this,” said Silas. “It’s not like the olden times. They can keep track of you, Bod. They can find you.” Silas’s unmoving exterior was like the hard crust of rock over molten lava. Bod knew how angry Silas was only because he knew Silas. He seemed to be fighting his anger, controlling it.
“这不是重点。现在和过去不一样了，他们可以跟踪你，伯蒂，他们能够找到你。”赛拉斯平静无波的外表如同一层又厚又硬的岩石，而里头却是滚烫的熔岩。赛拉斯似乎在努力压下怒气。正因为伯蒂了解他，才知道他有多生气。
Bod swallowed. “What should I do?” he said, simply.
伯蒂咽了口唾沫：“那我该怎么做？”
“Don’t go back,” said Silas. “This school business was an experiment. Let us simply acknowledge that it was not a successful one.”
“别再去上学了。”赛拉斯说，“学校的事只是个实验，一个不成功的实验罢了，到此为止。”
Bod said nothing. Then he said, “It’s not just the learning stuff. It’s the other stuff. Do you know how nice it is to be in a room filled with people and for all of them to be breathing?”
伯蒂沉默片刻，说：“上学不只是为了学习，还涉及许多别的方面。你不知道在一间坐满人的房间里，人人都在呼吸，这种感觉有多好吗？”
Silas began to call the boy back, then he stopped, and stood there in the night alone.
赛拉斯大声喊叫，想让他回来，随后他闭上嘴，独自一人站在黑夜中。
“You will do as you are told, boy,” said Silas, a knot of velvet anger in the darkness.
“听话，孩子。”赛拉斯天鹅绒般的嗓音溢出一丝怒气，在黑暗之中飘摇。
“I’m not running away. Not from Mo or Nick or school. I’d leave here first.”
“我不会逃避，不会刻意躲开莫、尼克和学校。我要离开这里，你留不住我。”
At the best of times his face was unreadable. Now his face was a book written in a language long forgotten, in an alphabet unimagined. Silas wrapped the shadows around him like a blanket, and stared after the way the boy had gone, and did not move to follow.
大多数时候，他的表情无法解读。他现在的脸就像一本书，其语言早已失传，其字母无从想象。他让阴影如毛毯一样裹住自己，盯着伯蒂离去的路，没有跟上去。
“Or what?” said Bod, his cheeks burning. “What would you do to keep me here? Kill me?” And he turned on his heel and began to walk down the path that led to the gates and out of the graveyard.
“要是我偏不呢？”伯蒂的双颊灼灼发烫，“你会做什么来把我留住？把我杀了吗？”说罢他掉头就走，向坟场大门外走去。
Nick Farthing was in his bed, asleep and dreaming of pirates on the sunny blue sea, when it all went wrong. One moment he was the captain of his own pirate ship — a happy place, crewed by obedient eleven-year-olds, except for the girls, who were all a year or two older than Nick and who looked especially pretty in their pirate costumes — and the next he was alone on the deck, and a huge, dark ship the size of an oil tanker, with ragged black sails and a skull for a figurehead, was crashing through the storm towards him.
尼克·法思因躺在床上睡得正香。他梦见了晴空万里之下，碧波万顷之上的一群海盗，可美妙的梦境在刹那间破灭。上一刻他还是掌管一艘海盗船的海盗王——这是一个充满快乐的地方，海员们都是听话的孩子，十一岁上下，女孩们例外，她们比尼克大一两岁，穿着海盗服显得特别漂亮；下一刻，他忽然孤零零地站在甲板上，一艘大如游轮，挂着破烂黑帆，船首有骷髅标志的黑色巨船正划破风暴，直冲他而来。
“What can you do to me in a dream?” asked Nick. He smiled. “I’m not afraid of you. You’ve still got my pencil in the back of your hand.” He pointed to the back of Bod’s hand, at the black mark the graphite point had made.
“在梦里你能拿我怎么着？”尼克勾起嘴角，“我不怕你，你手背上还有我的铅笔印呢。”他指了指伯蒂手背上的石墨印痕。
“Bad in your head,” said the Pirate King, who was now only the boy from his class and they were in the school hall, not the deck of the pirate ship, although the storm had not abated and the floor of the hall pitched and rolled like a ship at sea.
“脑袋上不好过。”刹那间，海盗王变成了他班上的那个男孩，他们站到了教室里，而不再是海盗船的甲板上。不过风暴仍未止息，教室的地板如同海上的船，正在剧烈地颠簸摇晃。
“This is a dream,” Nick said.
“这只是一场梦。”尼克说。
“You’re not afraid of me,” said the man standing over him.
“你不怕我。”站在他旁边的人说。
“I,” said his captor, “am Nobody. And you need to change. Turn over a new leaf. Reform. All that. Or things will get very bad for you.”
“我，是诺伯蒂。”那人说，“而你，需要改变，翻开新的一页，改过自新。不然的话，你的日子会很不好过。”
“Of course it’s a dream,” said the other boy. “I would have to be some kind of monster to do this in real life.”
“这当然是一场梦。”男孩说，“如果我在现实生活中这么做的话，那我岂不成怪物了？”
“Bad how?”
“怎么不好过？”
“You’re that kid,” he said. “Bob Owens.”
“你是那个孩子。”尼克说，“鲍勃·欧文斯。”
“Do you think you’re a pirate, Nick?” asked his captor, and suddenly something about him seemed familiar to Nick.
“尼克，你觉得你是个海盗吗？”这人问。忽然，尼克觉得对方有些熟悉。
And then, in the way of dreams, he was standing on the black deck of the new ship, and someone was looking down at him.
接着，以梦境特有的变化方式，他站到了迎面而来的巨船的黑色甲板上，有人正居高临下地看着他，对他说：
Nick looked up. He was scared, in his dream, scared of this dead-faced man in pirate costume, his hand on the hilt of a cutlass.
尼克抬起头。面前的人身着海盗服，手握短刀刀柄，面色死气沉沉，让他不由得心里发毛。
“I was hoping it wouldn’t have to be like this,” said the other boy. He tipped his head on one side as if he was listening to something. “They’re hungry,” he said.
“我并不希望事态发展成这样。”男孩说，他侧过头，仿佛在听什么声音，“它们饿了。”
The noise got louder — a scuttling sort of a scuffling noise, and while Nick Farthing had no idea what it was, he was utterly, completely certain that whatever it would turn out to be would be the most scary terrible thing he had ever — would ever — encounter…
地板下的声音越来越响，窸窸窣窣，像是要把地板凿穿。尽管尼克不知道是什么东西在发出声响，但他万分确定，在他这一辈子曾见到过的以及将来会见到的一切事物中，没有哪样会比这个更加恐怖。
Nick felt himself beginning to panic. “It isn’t… spiders… is it?” he said.
尼克的脊背一阵发凉：“底下…不会是…蜘蛛吧？”
“No,” he said. “Please no.”
尼克拼命摇头：“别，千万别。”
“What are?” asked Nick.
“谁饿了？”尼克问。
“Well,” said the other boy. “It’s all up to you, isn’t it? Change your ways or visit the cellar.”
“好吧。这要看你怎么表现，要么改过自新，要么下地窖。”
“It might be,” said the other boy. “You’ll find out, won’t you?”
“有可能。等一会儿你就知道了，对吧？”
He woke up screaming.
他尖叫一声，惊醒了。
Bod heard the scream, a shout of terror, and felt the satisfaction of a job well done.
伯蒂听到惊叫声，为了却一桩心事而心满意足。
He was standing on the pavement outside Nick Farthing’s house, his face damp from the thick night mist. He was exhilarated and exhausted: he had felt barely in control of the Dreamwalk, had been all too aware that there was nothing else in the dream but Nick and himself, and that all Nick had been scared of was a noise.
他正站在尼克家旁边的马路上，脸颊因夜里的浓雾而有些潮湿。他筋疲力尽，因为他只能勉强使出梦游术；他又欣喜若狂，因为他很清楚，梦里只有他和尼克，而尼克所惧怕的不过是个无足轻重的声音罢了。
“The things in the cellar. Or belowdecks. Depends whether this is a school or a ship, doesn’t it?”
“地窖里或甲板下的东西，看这里是教室还是船，你说是吧？”
But Bod was satisfied. The other boy would hesitate before tormenting smaller kids.
可伯蒂很满意。这个男孩今后在欺负弱小时，想必心里会咯噔一下吧。
Bod did not look up. If he had, he would have seen a pair of watery blue eyes watching him intently from a bedroom window.
伯蒂没有抬头。如果他抬起头，就会看见一间卧室的窗子后，一双水蓝色的眼睛正直勾勾地盯着他。
Bod put his hands in his pockets and began to walk, not certain where he was going. He would leave the school, he thought, just as he had left the graveyard. He would go somewhere no one knew him, and he would sit in a library all day and read books and listen to people breathing. He wondered if there were still deserted islands in the world, like the one on which Robinson Crusoe had been shipwrecked. He could go and live on one of those.
伯蒂把手插进口袋，开始漫无目的地走啊走。他想：他会离开学校，就像先前离开坟场那样。他会去一个没人认识他的地方。他会一整天坐在图书馆里，聆听别人的呼吸声。如果世上还有人迹罕至的荒岛，就像鲁滨孙遭遇海难后上岸的那座的话，他也许会到那样的一座荒岛上生存。
He stepped into an alley, feeling more comfortable out of the light.
他走进一条小巷，没有光的地方让他更为自在。
“That’s the difference between the living and the dead, ennit?” said the voice. It was Liza Hempstock talking, Bod knew, although the witch-girl was nowhere to be seen. “The dead dun’t disappoint you. They’ve had their life, done what they’ve done. We dun’t change. The living, they always disappoint you, dun’t they? You meet a boy who’s all brave and noble, and he grows up to run away.”
“活人和死人的区别就在于此。”女孩说。伯蒂知道她是丽萨·赫姆斯托克，尽管这个小女巫无影无形。“死人不会让你失望。他们的一生已经走完，做过的事已经了结。我们不会改变。而活人呢，总会让你失望，不是吗？比方说，你认识一个勇敢而高尚的男孩，可他长大后却逃走了。”
And now?
那现在干什么呢？
“Are you running away, then?” said a girl’s voice.
“看样子，你逃跑了？”一个女孩的声音问。
Bod said nothing.
伯蒂没有回答。
“I was getting involved. There were these kids bullying other kids. I wanted them to stop. I drew attention to myself…”
“我牵扯得太深。学校里有人欺负别的孩子，我给受欺负的孩子出主意，引来了别人对我的注意。”
Bod had not thought of that. He said, “I had a fight with Silas.”
伯蒂没往这方面想过。他说：“我和赛拉斯吵架了。”
“I think… I said things to Silas. He’ll be angry.”
“我想…我对赛拉斯说了太重的话，他会生气。”
“He wants me to come back to the graveyard. To stop school. He thinks it’s too dangerous.”
“他想让我回坟场，不再去学校。他觉得继续上学太危险了。”
Liza could be seen now, a misty shape in the alleyway keeping pace with Bod.
他现在能看到丽萨了，一个雾蒙蒙的形状正跟着他走在小巷里。
“That’s not fair!” said Bod.
“不能这么比！”伯蒂回嘴。
“So?”
“所以呢？”
“He’s out here, somewhere, and he wants you dead,” she said. “Him as killed your family. Us in the graveyard, we wants you to stay alive. We wants you to surprise us and disappoint us and impress us and amaze us. Come home, Bod.”
“那人就在这片大地上，不知何处。他杀了你的家人，还想要你的命。”丽萨说，“而我们坟场的人都希望你活下来。我们希望你带给我们惊喜，带给我们失落，让我们钦佩，让我们感叹。回家吧，伯蒂。”
“Why? Between your talents and my bespellment, they’ll barely notice you.”
“为什么？以你的聪明才智和我的法术，他们很难注意到你。”
“The Nobody Owens I knew wouldn’t’ve run off from the graveyard without saying so much as a fare-thee-well to those who cared for him. You’ll break Mistress Owens’s heart.”
“我所认识的诺伯蒂·欧文斯不会对坟场里照顾过他的人不辞而别。你会让欧文斯太太伤心的。”
The fallen autumn leaves were slick beneath Bod’s feet, and the mists blurred the edges of the world. Nothing was as clean-cut as he had thought it, a few minutes before.
伯蒂脚下的秋日落叶滑滑的，雾气模糊了世界的边缘，一切都不像几分钟前他所想的那样清爽明晰。
“If he didn’t care about you, you couldn’t upset him,” was all she said.
“若不是因为关心你，他又怎么会生你的气呢？”
There were shop-lights now. Bod could smell the hot grease from the chip shop on the corner. The paving stones glistened.
商店的灯已经亮了。拐角处卖薯条的快餐店飘出热油的香气，铺砌路面的石子闪闪发亮。
“I did a Dreamwalk,” he said.
“我施展了一次梦游术。”伯蒂说。
“That’s good,” said Liza Hempstock, now only a voice once more. Then the voice said, “Run! Or Fade! Something’s wrong!”
“太好了。”丽萨又变得只闻其声不见其人。“快跑！隐身也行！出事了！”她忽然大喊。
“Going home,” said Bod. “Like you said.”
“回家啊。”伯蒂说，“听你的。”
Two men got out from it. “Excuse me, young man,” said one of the men. “Police. Might I ask what you’re doing out so late?”
车上下来两个人。“不好意思，年轻人。”一人说，“我们是警察。请问这么晚了你在外头干什么？”
He reached the end of the alley, and instead of turning right, as he had planned, and off into the world, he turned left, onto the High Street, the road that would take him back to Dunstan Road and the graveyard on the hill.
他走到小巷的尽头，没有像计划那样向右拐入大千世界，而是左拐走上了高街。这条街通向邓斯坦路，继而通向山上的坟场。
“You’re right,” he said. “I should.”
“你说得没错，我是应该告诉他。”
“You should tell Mr. Pennyworth. He’ll be pleased.”
“你应该告诉彭尼沃斯先生，他会很高兴的。”
“How did it go?”
“怎么样？”
Bod was about to tell her that there was nothing wrong, that she was being foolish, when a large car with a light flashing on the top came veering across the road and pulled up in front of him.
伯蒂本想告诉她没出什么事，不用大惊小怪，就在这时，一辆顶灯闪烁的大车从路口急转而出，停在了他的面前。
“What?” said Liza Hempstock. “What you doin’?”
“嗯？你在做什么？”丽萨问。
“Good,” he said. “Well, all right.”
“挺好的。嗯，非常顺利。”
The largest of the policemen opened the rear door of the car. “Is this the young man you saw, Miss?” he said.
大个子警察打开车后门，问：“小姐，你看到的是这个年轻人吗？”
Mo Quilling got out of the car, and looked at Bod, and smiled. “That’s him,” she said. “He was in our back garden breaking things. And then he ran away.” She looked Bod in the eye. “I saw you from my bedroom,” she said. “I think he’s the one who’s been breaking windows.”
莫走下车，对伯蒂微微一笑。“就是他。他在我家后花园砸东西，然后跑了。”她直视伯蒂的眼睛，“我从卧室里看到你了。”她又对警察说：“我想那个经常砸窗户的人就是他。”
“I didn’t know there was a law against it,” said Bod.
“这没犯法吧。”伯蒂说。
“Nobody,” said Bod. Then, “Ow,” because the ginger policeman had taken Bod’s ear between finger and thumb, and had given it a hard squeeze. “Don’t give me that,” said the policeman. “Just answer the questions politely. Right?”
“诺伯蒂。”伯蒂说。接着他痛呼一声：“哎哟。”因为那个小个子警察揪住他的耳朵，用力拧了一下。“别耍滑头。老实回答，听见没？”
“Where exactly do you live?” asked the policeman.
“你具体住在哪儿？”警察问。
Bod said nothing.
伯蒂一言不发。
Bod said nothing. He tried to Fade, but Fading — even when boosted by a witch — relies on people’s attention sliding away from you, and everybody’s attention — not to mention a large pair of official hands — was on him then.
伯蒂依然一言不发。他想隐身，可要想发动隐身术，即便在一位女巫的加持下，都需要别人的注意从你身上移开。可眼下，所有人的注意都集中在他身上，更别说他身上还有警察的一双大手。
“What’s your name?” asked the smaller policeman. He had a ginger mustache.
“你叫什么名字？”小个子警察问。他留着姜黄色的小胡子。
Bod said, “You can’t arrest me for not telling you my name or address.”
伯蒂说：“你们不能因为我不肯说自己的名字和住址就逮捕我。”
He put Bod into the back of the car, where Mo Quilling sat, with the smile on her face of a cat who has eaten all the canaries. “I saw you from my front window,” she said, quietly. “So I called the police.”
他把伯蒂丢进后座。莫也坐在后座，脸上的笑容如同一只吃光了所有金丝雀的猫。她轻声说：“我从前窗看到你了，所以就报了警。”
“Thanks, Uncle Tam,” said Mo, and she smiled. “Just doing my duty.”
“谢谢你，谭叔叔。”莫微微一笑。“这是我的职责。”
“I wasn’t doing anything,” said Bod. “I wasn’t even in your garden. And why are they bringing you out to find me?”
“我什么都没做。”伯蒂说，“我根本没进过你家花园。还有，他们为什么带着你来抓我？”
“Quiet back there!” said the large policeman.
“安静！”大个子警察呵斥道。
They drove back through the town in silence, Bod trying to Fade as best he could, with no success. He felt sick and miserable. In one evening, he had had his first real argument with Silas, had attempted to run away from home, had failed to run away, and now failed to return home. He could not tell the police where he lived, or his name. He would spend the rest of his life in a police cell, or in a prison for kids. Did they have prison for kids? he didn’t know.
他们穿过城镇，驶向警局，每个人都沉默不语。伯蒂使尽浑身解数施展隐身术，依然没有成功。他既难受又痛苦。这一夜，他第一次和赛拉斯大吵一架，想从家里逃走却没逃成，回心转意想回家了却又回不去。他不能告诉警察他的住处和名字。他可能要在一处拘留所或少年监狱度过余生。有专门关少年儿童的监狱吗？他不知道。
“No,” said the policeman. “I can’t. But I can take you down to the station until you give us the name of a parent, guardian, responsible adult, into whose care we can release you.”
“对，”警察说，“你说得没错，但我们能把你带去警局，直到你说出自己的父母或监护人的名字，把你交到他们手上后再放了你。”
Everyone was quiet until the car pulled up in front of a house that had to be Mo’s. The large policeman opened the door for her, and she got out.
一路上没人说话，直到车在莫家的房子前停下。大个子警察为莫打开车门，莫下了车。
“We’ll call you tomorrow, let your mom and dad know what we found,” said the large policeman.
“我们明天会给你父母打电话，把调查结果告诉他们。”大个子警察说。
“Excuse me? Do they have prisons for kids?” he asked the men in the front seat.
“请问，有专门关少年儿童的监狱吗？”他问前座的警察。
Bod wasn’t sure if that was a yes or a no. He glanced out of the car window. Something huge was flying through the air, above the car and to one side, something darker and bigger than the biggest bird. Something man-size that flickered and fluttered as it moved, like the strobing flight of a bat.
伯蒂不知道他的问答是肯定还是否定。他望向车窗外，看到一个巨大的黑影掠过夜空，就在车子的侧上方，比世上最大的鸟还要黑，还要大。这个扑闪的人形黑影一边移动一边震颤，如同一只蝙蝠飞过，留下道道残影。
The ginger policeman said, “When we get to the station, best if you just give us your name, tell us who to call to come and get you, we can tell them we gave you a bollocking, they can take you home. See? You cooperate, we have an easy night, less paperwork for everyone. We’re your friends.”
留有姜黄色小胡子的警察说：“等我们到了警局，你最好乖乖说出你的名字，告诉我们能联系谁来接你。我们会告诉他们，我们已经教训了你一顿，他们就能接你回家。明白了吗？你好好配合，我们就能轻松地解决这件事，少写好多文件。我们是你的朋友。”
“Getting worried, now, are you?” said Mo’s uncle Tam. “I don’t blame you. You kids. Running wild. Some of you need locking up, I’ll tell you.”
“现在知道害怕了吧？”莫的叔叔说，“我不怪你。小孩子嘛，无法无天，爱疯闹爱撒野。不过我告诉你，你们之中有那么些人还是要关起来的。”
“You’re too easy on him. A night in the cells isn’t that hard,” said the large policeman to his friend. Then he looked back at Bod, and said, “Unless it’s a busy night, and we have to put you in with some of the drunks. They can be nasty.”
“你对他太仁慈了。在看守所里过一夜没什么大不了的，除非那夜案子特多。”大个子警察回头看向伯蒂，“那样你就得和几个浑身酒气的酒鬼关在一块，那滋味可不好受。”
He leaned over as far as he could, craning to try and see what had happened, what was on the road.
他尽量向前探身，使劲探头，想看看发生了什么事，路上有什么东西。
Bod thought, He’s lying! and They’re doing this on purpose, the friendly one and the tough one…
伯蒂心想：他在撒谎！他们是故意的，一个唱红脸，一个唱白脸…
Then the police car turned a corner, and there was a thump! Something big rode up onto the hood of the car and was knocked off into the dark. A screech of brakes as the car stopped, and the ginger policeman began to swear under his breath.
警车拐了个弯，忽然，砰！有什么大块头的东西撞上了汽车前盖，被撞飞到黑暗之中。伴随一声刺耳的急刹，警车停了下来。小胡子警察低声咒骂。
“He just ran out into the road!” he said. “You saw it!”
“是他突然跑上车道的！”他说，“你看到了！”
They got out of the car, shone lights around. The ginger policeman said, “He was wearing black! You can’t see it.”
他们下了车，用手电筒四处照。小胡子警察说：“他一身黑！开车时根本看不到。”
“I’m not sure what I saw,” said the larger policeman. “You hit something, though.”
“我没看清。”大个子警察说，“反正你撞上什么东西了。”
Bod tried the door handles on the backseat. They did not work. And there was a metal grille between the back and the front. Even if he Faded, he was still stuck in the backseat of a police car.
伯蒂在后座上试了试门把手，没能打开，而前座和后座间有一道金属格栅，就算他成功隐身，还是会被困在车里。
“He’s over here,” shouted the large policeman. The two men hurried over to the body on the ground, holding flashlights.
“他在那里。”大个子警察大声说。两人急忙跑到躺在路上的黑衣人身边，举起手电筒。
The ginger policeman was crouched beside a body, looking at it. The other, the large one, was standing above it, shining a light down into its face.
小胡子警察正蹲在一个躺倒的黑衣人身边查看，而高个子警察正站在一边，用手电筒照黑衣人的脸。
“You’re kidding.”
“开什么玩笑。”
“You hit my — my dad,” said Bod.
“你们撞到了我——我爸爸。”伯蒂说。
Bod looked at the face of the fallen body — then he began to bang on the window, frantically, desperately.
伯蒂一看到倒在地上的那人的脸，立即开始疯狂而绝望地敲打车窗。
“It looks like him,” said Bod. “Can I look properly?”
“那人看起来像我爸爸。我能凑近点看吗？”
The large policeman’s shoulders slumped. “Oy! Simon, the kid says it’s his dad.”
大个子警察耷拉下肩膀：“哦，西蒙，这孩子说那是他爸。”
Bod crouched by Silas, and he squeezed Silas’s cold hand in his. If they had already called an ambulance there was not much time. He said, “So that’s your careers over, then.”
伯蒂在赛拉斯身边蹲下，捏住他冰冷的手。如果他们已经叫了救护车，那剩下的时间就不多了。“你们的职业生涯要到头了。”伯蒂说。
“It was an accident,” said the other.
“这是一起事故。”大个子警察说。
The large policeman came over to the car. “What?” he said, irritably.
大个子警察来到车边，没好气地问：“怎么了？”
Bod’s eyes prickled.
伯蒂的眼睛有点发酸。
“It was an accident — you saw!”
“这只是一起事故——你看到了！”
Silas was sprawled on his back, on the ground, where the car had knocked him. He was deathly still.
赛拉斯正仰面朝天倒在地上，一动不动。
“You’ve got to be bloody kidding me.”
“你他妈在开什么玩笑。”
“I’ve called an ambulance,” said Simon, the ginger-mustached policeman.
“我已经叫了救护车。”小胡子警察西蒙说。
He said, “Dad?” Then he said, “You killed him.” He wasn’t lying, he told himself — not really.
“爸爸？”他说，“你们杀了他！”他没有撒谎，他告诉自己——这不算撒谎。
“I think he’s serious.” The large policeman opened the door, and Bod got out.
“我想他是认真的。”大个子警察打开车门，伯蒂下了车。
“What I saw,” said Bod, “is that you agreed to do a favor for your niece, and frighten a kid she’s been fighting with at school. So you arrested me without a warrant for being out late, and then when my dad runs out into the road to try and stop you or to find out what was going on, you intentionally ran him over.”
“我看到的是，”伯蒂说，“你同意帮你侄女一个忙，帮她恐吓一个在学校和她有矛盾的同学。所以你以在外逗留太晚为由，没有逮捕令就把我抓了起来。当我爸爸跑到路上，想来拦住你们或弄清楚这究竟是怎么一回事的时候，你们就故意撞倒了他！”
“He just stepped out –“
“他突然走到路上——”
“You’ve been fighting with Mo at school?” said Mo’s uncle Tam, but he didn’t sound convincing.
“你和莫在学校里有矛盾？”莫的叔叔问，语气半信半疑。
“We’re both in Eight B at the Old Town School,” said Bod. “And you killed my dad.”
“我们是同班同学，老城区小学初二（2）班。”伯蒂说，“你们撞死了我爸爸。”
“It was an accident!” repeated Simon.
“这只是一起事故！”西蒙又气又急。
Far off, he could hear the sound of sirens.
远处传来了救护车的嘀嘟声。
“Simon,” said the large man, “we have to talk about this.”
“西蒙，”大个子警察说，“我们得谈谈这件事。”
They walked over to the other side of the car, leaving Bod alone in the shadows with the fallen Silas. Bod could hear the two policemen talking heatedly –“Your bloody niece!” was used, and so was “If you’d kept your eyes on the road!” Simon jabbed his finger into Tam’s chest…
他们走到警车另一边，留伯蒂一人与倒地的赛拉斯隐没在阴影中。伯蒂听到两人吵得很激烈——“你那个浑蛋侄女！”“谁叫你开车不好好看路！”西蒙用手指使劲戳谭的胸口…
Bod whispered, “They aren’t looking. Now.” And he Faded.
伯蒂轻声说：“他们没在看我。”他隐身了。
There was a swirl of deeper darkness, and the body on the ground was now standing beside him.
一片更深沉的黑暗如旋风般腾起，躺在地上的黑衣人站到了他的身边。
“I’m sorry,” said Bod.
“对不起。”伯蒂说。
Bod did, holding tightly to his guardian, and they plunged through the night, heading for the graveyard.
伯蒂照做，他紧紧抱住他的监护人。两人在夜空中疾行，飞向坟场。
“Did it hurt?” asked Bod. “Letting the car hit you like that?”
“疼吗？让车这么撞上你。”
“I’m sorry too,” said Silas.
“我也要对你说声对不起。”赛拉斯说。
Silas said, “I’ll take you home. Put your arms around my neck.”
赛拉斯说：“我带你回家，用手臂环住我的脖子。”
“You were right,” said Bod. “I won’t go back. Not to that school, and not like that.”
“你说得对。”伯蒂说，“我不回去了，不回那所学校了，也不会再任性了。”
“Yes,” said Silas. “You should thank your little witch-friend. She came and found me, told me you were in trouble, and what kind of trouble you were in.”
“疼。”赛拉斯回答，“你该谢谢你的小女巫朋友，是她来找我，告诉我你遇上了麻烦，还告诉了我是什么样的麻烦。”
“More things than you know, young Nobody Owens. Yes.”
“小家伙，你不知道风险有多大，你不知道的事还有很多。”
They landed in the graveyard. Bod looked at his home as if it was the first time he had ever seen it. He said, “What happened tonight was stupid, wasn’t it? I mean, I put things at risk.”
他们降落在坟场。伯蒂看着自己的家，如同此生第一次看到它。他说：“今晚发生的事实在太荒唐了，不是吗？我不该平白无故地冒风险。”
Maureen Quilling had had the worst week of her life: Nick Farthing was no longer speaking to her; her uncle Tam had shouted at her about the Owens kid thing, then told her not to mention anything about that evening ever to anyone, as he could lose his job, and he wouldn’t want to be in her shoes if that happened; her parents were furious with her; she felt betrayed by the world; even the year sevens weren’t scared of her any longer. It was rotten. She wanted to see that Owens kid, who she blamed for everything that had happened to her so far, writhing in miserable agony. If he thought being arrested was bad… and then she would concoct elaborate revenge schemes in her head, complex and vicious. They were the only thing that made her feel better, and even they didn’t really help.
这是莫琳·奎林出生以来所经历的最糟糕的一周：尼克·法思因不再同她说话；就因为欧文斯那小子的事，她的谭叔叔冲她大吼大叫，还让她别对任何人提起那晚的事，不然会害得他丢了工作，如果她说出去了，那么他再也不会与她站在同一阵线；连初一的孩子们也不再怕她。真是糟透了。她想看到欧文斯那家伙痛不欲生的模样，她遭的罪都拜他所赐。如果他觉得被逮捕很倒霉的话…那她能够在脑海中构思详尽的复仇计划，复杂难解，恶毒之至。谋划如何复仇是唯一能让她好受点的办法，即使没法真的付诸实施。
If there was one job that gave Mo the creeps, it was cleaning up the science labs — putting away the Bunsen burners, making sure that all test tubes, petri dishes, unused filter papers and the like were returned to their places. She only had to do it, on a strict rotation system, once every two months, but it stood to reason that here, in the worst week of her life, she would be in the science lab.
如果有什么事能让莫害怕的话，那非打扫科学实验室莫属——收好煤气喷灯，检查所有试管、培养皿和未使用的滤纸是否归位。根据严格的轮换制，她两个月才会轮到一次，可老天明摆着折磨她，在她一生中最糟糕的一周，她偏偏得来科学实验室。
At least Mrs. Hawkins, who taught general sciences, was there, collecting papers, gathering things up at the end of the day. Having her there, having anybody there, was comforting.
幸好在这一天快要结束时，教科学的霍金斯太太也在这儿整理文件，收拾东西。有她在这儿，有人在这儿，莫感到宽心不少。
“You’re doing a good job, Maureen,” said Mrs. Hawkins.
“莫琳，你干得很好。”霍金斯太太说。
A white snake in a jar of preservative stared blindly down at them. Mo said, “Thanks.”
一罐防腐剂中的一条白蛇正睁着无神的双眼俯视着她们。莫说：“谢谢。”
“Aren’t there meant to be two of you?” asked Mrs. Hawkins.
“不应该有两个人打扫吗？”霍金斯太太问。
The teacher frowned. “Which one was he?” she asked, absently. “I don’t have him down on my list.”
霍金斯太太皱起眉头，漫不经心地问：“欧文斯是谁？我的花名册上没他的名字。”
“I was supposed to be doing it with the Owens kid,” said Mo. “But he hasn’t been to school in days now.”
“有个叫欧文斯的本来要和我一起打扫，但他好些天没来学校了。”
“Bob Owens. Brownish hair, a bit too long. Didn’t talk much. He was the one who named all the bones of the skeleton in the quiz. Remember?”
“鲍勃·欧文斯。他话不多，头发是褐色的，特别长。小测试时他写出了一副骨架上所有骨头的名字，你记得吗？”
“Not really,” admitted Mrs. Hawkins.
“不记得了。”霍金斯太太实言相告。
Every noise she made echoed, in that long room. She turned all of the overhead lights on, even the light on the whiteboard, just to make the place less scary. The room began to feel cold. She wished she could turn up the heat. She walked over to one of the large metal radiators and touched it. It was burning hot. But still, she was shivering.
她弄出的所有声音都在这间长长的房间里回响。她打开所有顶灯，连白板的灯都开了，就是想让这地方的恐怖气息减弱一些。她感到屋里越来越冷，就想把暖气调高。她走到一处暖气边，摸了摸暖气片，热得烫手，可她还是在瑟瑟发抖。
“You must remember! Nobody remembers him! Not even Mr. Kirby!”
“怎么可能！没人记得他！连柯比先生也不记得他！”
Mrs. Hawkins pushed the rest of the sheets of paper into her bag and said, “Well, I appreciate you doing it on your own, dear. Don’t forget to wipe down the working surfaces, before you go.” And she went, closing the door behind her.
霍金斯太太将剩下的一叠纸放进包里，说：“亲爱的，谢谢你一人包揽了所有的活。别忘了在走之前把工作台擦干净。”说完她就关门走人了。
The science labs were old. There were long, dark wooden tables, with gas jets and taps and sinks built in to them, and there were dark wooden shelves upon which were displayed a selection of things in large bottles. The things that floated in the bottles were dead, had been dead for a long time. There was even a yellowed human skeleton in one corner of the room: Mo did not know if it was real or not, but right now it was creeping her out.
科学实验室很旧，放有一条条深色长木桌，内置煤气喷嘴和水龙头，还置有许多深色的木架，上头摆了好多大瓶子，瓶子里漂浮着死了很久的东西。墙角放有一具黄色的人类骨架，莫不知那是真的还是仿制的，但此时此刻，那副骨架让她毛骨悚然。
That was when the dead things in the jars began to move. A snake with unseeing milky eyes uncoiled in its alcohol-filled jar. A faceless, spiny sea creature twisted and revolved in its liquid home. A kitten, dead for decades, showed its teeth and clawed the glass.
就在这时，罐子里的标本开始移动。一条盘卷在酒精中、双眼无神而浑浊的蛇舒展开身子；一只没有脸，长满刺的海生动物在液体里扭转翻腾；一只死了好几个世纪的猫露出利齿，用爪子抓挠玻璃。
The room was empty and unsettling in its emptiness, and Mo felt as if she were not alone, as if she was being watched.
屋里空荡荡的，这种空荡令人忐忑不安，可莫觉得这里好像不止她一个人，似乎有东西正在看着她。
She said, “None of the teachers even remember you.”
莫听出了是谁在说话，便对他说：“没有哪个老师记得你。”
Mo closed her eyes. This isn’t happening, she told herself. I’m imagining it. “I’m not frightened,” she said, aloud.
莫闭上眼睛，对自己说：这不是真的。这只是幻觉。“我一点都不害怕！”她大喊。
Well, of course I’m being watched, she thought. A hundred dead things in jars are all looking at me, not to mention the skeleton. She glanced up at the shelves.
好吧，当然有东西在看着我。她想。罐子里的上百样标本都在看着我，更别提那具骨架了。她抬头看向一排排架子。
“That’s good,” said someone, standing in the shadows, by the rear door. “It seriously sucks to be frightened.”
“那挺好的。”后门阴影处传来一个人的声音，“害怕的感觉可相当不好受啊。”
“But you remember me,” said the boy, the architect of all her misfortunes.
“可你记得我。”那个男孩——她一切不幸的操盘手这么说。
She picked up a glass beaker and threw it at him, but her aim went wide and it smashed against a wall.
她拿起一只玻璃烧杯冲男孩扔去，可是打偏了。烧杯撞上一面墙，四分五裂。
“How’s Nick?” asked Bod, as if nothing had happened.
“尼克怎么样？”伯蒂若无其事地问。
“You’re going to haunt me?” Her voice trembled.
“你想让鬼魂上我的身？”莫的嗓音在颤抖。
“You know how he is,” she said. “He won’t even talk to me. Just shuts up in class, goes home and does his homework. Probably building model railways.”
“你知道的，”莫说，“他都不和我说话了，只知道闷在教室里，下课就回家写作业，也可能在拼铁路模型。”
“Good,” he said.
“不错。”
“And you,” she said. “You haven’t been at school for a week. You’re in such trouble, Bob Owens. The police came in the other day. They were looking for you.”
“还有你。你一礼拜都没来上学了。鲍勃·欧文斯，你卷进大麻烦了吧。那天警察还来学校找你了。”
“That reminds me… How’s your uncle Tam?” said Bod.
“你这么一说倒提醒了我…你的谭叔叔怎么样了？”
“In some ways,” said Bod, “you’ve won. I’m leaving school. And in other ways, you haven’t. Have you ever been haunted, Maureen Quilling? Ever looked in the mirror wondering if the eyes looking back at you were yours? Ever sat in an empty room, and realized you were not alone? It’s not pleasant.”
伯蒂接着说：“从一方面来看，你赢了，我离开了学校；从另一方面来看，你没有赢。莫琳·奎林，你体会过被鬼魂上身的感觉吗？看着镜子，却感觉镜子里的眼睛不是自己的；坐在空房间里，却感觉屋里还有别的人。这种感觉非常难受。”
Bod said nothing at all. He just stared at her. In the far corner of the room, something crashed: her bag had slipped off the chair onto the floor and when she looked back, she was alone in the room. Or, at least, there was nobody that she could see in there with her.
伯蒂什么也没说，只是盯着她。屋子遥远的一角传来东西掉落的声音：她的包从椅子上滑落到了地上。等她回过头，屋里又只剩下她一个人。或者说，她看不到屋里还有其他人。
Mo said nothing.
莫默不作声。
Her way home was going to be very long and very dark.
她回家的路注定会无比漫长，无比黑暗。
“Could it have killed you? Stepping out in front of that car?”
“这样迎面撞上一辆车，你有没有可能会死？”
The boy and his guardian stood at the top of the hill, looking out at the lights of the town.
男孩和他的监护人站在山顶上，俯瞰城市的灯火。
“A little,” said his guardian. “But I heal fast. I’ll soon be as good as ever.”
“有点儿疼。”赛拉斯回答，“但我痊愈得很快，很快就能恢复如初。”
“Does it still hurt?” asked the boy.
“还疼吗？”伯蒂问。
Bod said, “I was wrong, wasn’t I? The whole idea was to do it without anybody noticing. And then I had to get involved with the kids in the school, and the next thing you know, there’s police and all sorts of stuff. Because I was selfish.”
伯蒂说：“我错了。上学的前提是不让别人注意到我，但我和学校的孩子们有了纠葛。后来发生了什么你都知道，警察和所有乱七八糟的事。都怪我太蠢了。”
Silas raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t selfish. You need to be among your own kind. Quite understandable. It’s just harder out there in the world of the living, and we cannot protect you out there as easily. I wanted to keep you perfectly safe,” said Silas. “But there is only one perfectly safe place for your kind and you will not reach it until all your adventures are over and none of them matter any longer.”
赛拉斯扬起一边眉毛。“你不蠢。你需要身处同类之中，这完全合情合理。但外头的活人世界远比坟场更加错综复杂，我们无法像在这里一样相对轻松地保护你。我想保证你的绝对安全。”他接着说，“可对你们人类来说，绝对安全的地方只有一处，而只有历经人生百态，看一切都云淡风轻后，你才能到那里去。”
His guardian shook his head. “There are ways to kill people like me,” he said. “But they don’t involve cars. I am very old and very tough.”
赛拉斯摇摇头，说：“要杀死我这类人有很多办法，但车不行，我是个很结实的老家伙。”
But Silas only shook his head, and would be drawn no further, and with that, for the time being, Bod had to be satisfied.
赛拉斯摇摇头，说什么也不肯再细讲。伯蒂一时也拿他没办法，只得作罢。
They began to walk down the hill. Silas said, “We have both left too many tracks and traces in the last few weeks. They are still looking for you, you know.”
他们向山下走去。赛拉斯说：“我们俩在过去几周留下了太多踪迹。你知道的，他们还在找你。”
“He’s still out there,” said Bod. “The man who killed my first family. I still need to learn about people. Are you going to stop me leaving the graveyard?”
“他还在外界。”伯蒂说，“那个杀死我家人的家伙。我必须多加了解人类。你还打算禁止我离开坟场吗？”
“What’s that? Is it like football? I enjoyed watching them play football at school.”
“剧院和电影院里能干什么？像看球赛一样吗？我很喜欢看他们在学校里踢足球。”
“Then what?”
“那怎么办？”
“We should do our best to satisfy your interest in stories and books and the world. There are libraries. There are other ways. And there are many situations in which there might be other, living people around you, like the theater or the cinema.”
“我们应该尽己所能满足你对故事、图书和世界的兴趣。这世上有图书馆，除此之外还有很多别的途径、别的地方可以让活人环绕在你的身边，比如剧院、电影院。”
“You said that before,” said Bod. “How do you know? And who are they? And what do they want?”
“你说过了。”伯蒂说，“话说这事你是怎么知道的？他们是谁？他们想要什么？”
“Football. Hmm. That’s usually a little early in the day for me,” said Silas. “But Miss Lupescu could take you to see a football match the next time she’s here.”
“足球…球赛开始的时间对我来说太早了。”赛拉斯说，“不过，等下次卢佩斯库小姐来，她能带你去看场球赛。”
“I’d like that,” said Bod.
“好啊好啊。”
“No. That was a mistake and one that we have both learned from.”
“不。那是个错误，我们都从中吃了教训。”
Bod rubbed his hand over the stone of Thomas R. Stout (1817-1851. Deeply regretted by all who knew him), feeling the moss crumble beneath his fingers.
伯蒂用手摸了摸托马斯·R。斯托特（1917—1951，认识他的人无不痛悼）的墓碑，感受到指尖下的青苔变成了碎屑。
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