He waits for ten minutes, twenty. And then he turns, although the very movement is a punishment, and finds his phone in his bag. He dials Willem’s number and waits.
他等了十分钟、二十分钟，然后转身。尽管连这个动作都是折磨，他还是从包里找出手机，拨了威廉的电话，等待着。
“Jude!” says Willem, sounding surprised. “I was just going to call you.”
“裘德！”威廉说，听起来很惊讶，“我正想打给你。”
“Hi, Willem,” he says, and hopes his voice sounds normal. “I guess I read your thoughts.”
“嗨，威廉，”他说，希望自己的声音听起来很正常，“我大概猜到你的想法了吧。”
They talk for a few minutes, and then Willem asks, “Are you okay?”
他们谈了几分钟，然后威廉问：“你还好吧？”
“Of course,” he says.
“当然很好啊。”他说。
“You sound a little strange.”
“你的声音有点奇怪。”
Willem, he wants to say. Willem, I wish you were here. But instead he says, “Sorry. I just have a headache.”
威廉，他想说，威廉，我真希望你在这里。但他只是说：“对不起，我只是头痛。”
They talk some more, and as they’re about to hang up, Willem says, “You’re sure you’re okay.”
他们又聊了一下。挂电话前，威廉说：“你确定你没事？”
“Yes,” he says. “I’m fine.”
“确定。”他说，“我很好。”
“Okay,” says Willem. “Okay.” And then, “Five more weeks.”
“好吧，”威廉说，“好吧。”然后说，“再五个星期。”
“Five more.” He wishes for Willem so intensely he can barely breathe.
“再五个星期。”他想念威廉到简直无法呼吸。
After they hang up, he waits for another ten minutes, until he finally stops shaking, and then he starts the car again and drives the rest of the way home.
挂断电话后，他又等了十分钟，才终于停止颤抖，发动车子开回家。
The next day, he makes himself look at his reflection in the bathroom mirror and nearly cries out in shame and shock and misery. He is so deformed, so astoundingly ugly—even for him, it is extraordinary. He makes himself as presentable as he can; he puts on his favorite suit. Caleb had kicked him in his side, and every movement, every breath, is painful. Before he leaves the house, he makes an appointment with the dentist because he can feel that one of his upper teeth has been knocked loose, and an appointment at Andy’s for that evening.
次日，他逼自己观察浴室镜中的自己，他羞愧、震撼又感到悲惨，差点叫出声来。他整个人都变形了，丑得吓人——即使是他，也实在太丑、太怪了。他穿上最喜欢的西装，尽量让自己看起来像样一点。凯莱布踢了他的身侧，让他做每个动作、每次呼吸时都非常痛。离家之前，他先打电话跟牙医约诊，因为他感觉有一颗上牙被打松了。另外，也跟安迪约了当天晚上看诊。
He goes to work. “This is not a good look for you, St. Francis,” one of the other senior partners, whom he likes a lot, says at the morning management committee meeting, and everyone laughs.
他去上班。“这个造型不适合你哦，圣弗朗西斯。”一个他很喜欢的资深合伙人在上午的管理委员会议说，大家都笑了。
He forces a smile. “I’m afraid you’re right,” he says. “And I’m sure you’ll all be disappointed when I announce that my days as a potential Paralympic tennis champion are, sadly, over.”
他挤出微笑：“恐怕你说得没错。”他说，“还有件事你们一定会很失望。我即将宣布，很可惜，我有希望成为残奥会网球冠军的日子，已经结束了。”
“Well, I’m not sad,” says Lucien, as everyone around the table groans in mock disappointment. “You get plenty of aggression out in court. I think that should be your sole combat sport from now on.”
“唔，我可不觉得可惜。”卢西恩说，同时会议上的每个人都假装失望地哀叹起来，“你在法庭上很有攻击性。我想从现在开始，那应该成为你唯一的搏斗运动了。”
That night at his appointment, Andy swears at him. “What’d I say about tennis, Jude?” he asks.
那天晚上去看诊，安迪质问他：“裘德，我之前怎么跟你交待网球的事情？”
“I know,” he says. “But never again, Andy, I promise.”
“我知道。”他说，“不会再有了，安迪。我保证。”
“What’s this?” Andy asks, placing his fingers on the back of his neck.
“这回是什么？”安迪问，手指放在他的颈背上。
He sighs, theatrically. “I turned, and there was an incident with a nasty backhand.” He waits for Andy to say something, but he doesn’t, only smears some antibiotic cream on his neck and then bandages it.
他故意夸张地叹气：“我转身，一个反手拍的意外就发生了。”他等着安迪说些什么，但他没有，只是擦了点抗生素软膏在他的脖子上，然后贴上绷带。
