But later, I would recognize how that incident had taken something large from him, how it had changed him: into someone else, or maybe into someone he had once been. I would see the months before Caleb as a period in which he was healthier than he’d been: he had allowed me to hug him when I saw him, and when I touched him—putting an arm around him as I passed him in the kitchen—he would let me; his hand would go on chopping the carrots before him in the same steady rhythm. It had taken twenty years for that to happen. But after Caleb, he regressed. At Thanksgiving, I had gone toward him to embrace him, but he had quickly stepped to the left—just a bit, just enough so that my arms closed around air, and there had been a second in which we looked at each other, and I knew that whatever I had been allowed just a few months ago I would be no longer: I knew I would have to start all over. I knew that he had decided that Caleb was right, that he was disgusting, that he had, somehow, deserved what had happened to him. And that was the worst thing, the most reprehensible thing. He had decided to believe Caleb, to believe him over us, because Caleb confirmed what he had always thought and always been taught, and it is always easier to believe what you already think than to try to change your mind.
但后来，我会明白那个事件是如何把他很大的一块拿掉、如何改变了他：把他变成另一个人，或者是把他变回了以前的模样。我会把他认识凯莱布之前的那几个月，视为他多年来最健康的时期：见面时，他会让我拥抱他，也会让我碰触他，比如，在厨房里从他身边经过时，我若伸出一只手揽着他，他会继续以同样的稳定节奏切着面前的胡萝卜。这样的事情，我们花了二十年才达成。但凯莱布事件之后，他倒退了。感恩节时，我走过去要拥抱他，他很快就往左闪，只是一点点，刚好让我双手扑空。接下来有一秒钟，我们看着彼此，我知道几个月前他允许我做的那些事情，全都一笔勾销了，我得从头开始。我知道他已经判定凯莱布是对的，判定他自己很令人反感，判定他身上发生的事情都是活该。而那是最糟糕、最可恶的事情。他决定相信凯莱布，而不是我们，因为凯莱布确认了他以前一贯的想法，他一直被教导的事情。而相信既有的想法，总比改变心意要来得容易。
Later, when things got bad, I would wonder what I could have said or done. Sometimes I would think that there was nothing I could have said—there was something that might have helped, but none of us saying it could have convinced him. I still had those fantasies: the gun, the posse, Fifty West Twenty-ninth Street, apartment 17J. But this time we wouldn’t shoot. We would take Caleb Porter by each arm, lead him down to the car, drive him to Greene Street, drag him upstairs. We would tell him what to say, and warn him that we would be just outside the door, waiting in the elevator, the pistol cocked and pointed at his back. And from behind the door, we’d listen to what he said: I didn’t mean any of it. I was completely wrong. The things I did, but more than that, the things I said, they were meant for someone else. Believe me, because you believed me before: you are beautiful and perfect, and I never meant what I said. I was wrong, I was mistaken, no one could ever have been more wrong than I was.
后来，当事情恶化时，我会一直想着当初要是能多说什么或多做什么会怎么样。有时我会想着自己说什么都没用，因为有些话或许有帮助，但从我们嘴里说出来都无法让他相信。我还是会幻想那些事：枪、民兵队、西29街50号17J公寓。但这回我们不会开枪，我们会一人抓住他一只手，把他押进车里，开到格林街，把他拖上楼。我们会告诉他要说什么，然后警告他我们就在门外的电梯里等着，手枪已经上膛，瞄准他的背部。隔着门，我们会听到他说的话：我讲的那些都不是真心的，我完全错了，我做的那些事错了，但更重要的是，我说的那些话，其实是针对另一个人。相信我，因为你以前相信过我：你漂亮又完美，我讲的那些话从来不是真心的。我错了，我误解了，没有人会比我错得更离谱。
3
3
EVERY AFTERNOON AT four, after the last of his classes and before the first of his chores, he had a free period of an hour, but on Wednesdays, he was given two hours. Once, he had spent those afternoons reading or exploring the grounds, but recently, ever since Brother Luke had told him he could, he had spent them all at the greenhouse. If Luke was there, he would help the brother water the plants, memorizing their names—Miltonia spectabilis, Alocasia amazonica, Asystasia gangetica—so he could repeat them back to the brother and be praised. “I think the Heliconia vellerigera’s grown,” he’d say, petting its furred bracts, and Brother Luke would look at him and shake his head. “Unbelievable,” he’d say. “My goodness, what a great memory you have,” and he’d smile to himself, proud to have impressed the brother.
每天下午4点，最后一堂课结束之后、第一项例行杂务开始之前，他有一个小时的自由时间，但是星期三有两小时。有一阵子，他会利用这些时间阅读或在修道院周围探险，但最近，自从卢克修士跟他说可以之后，他把时间都花在温室里。如果卢克修士也在里面，他会帮他浇水，同时记住这些植物的拉丁语学名——Miltonia spectabilis（堇色兰）、Alocasia amazonica（观音莲）、Asystasia gangetica（宽叶十万错），这样下回他就可以跟修士说出来，得到赞美。“我觉得Heliconia vellerigera（金刚蝎尾蕉）长大了。”他会摸着那毛茸茸的苞片说，卢克修士会看着他摇头。“真是难以置信，”他会说，“老天，你的记忆力太好了。”然后他会兀自微笑，很得意自己能让修士刮目相看。
If Brother Luke wasn’t there, he instead passed the time playing with his things. The brother had shown him how if he moved aside a stack of plastic planters in the far corner of the room, there was a small grate, and if you removed the grate, there was a small hole beneath, big enough to hold a plastic garbage bag of his possessions. So he had unearthed his twigs and stones from under the tree and moved his haul to the greenhouse, where it was warm and humid, and where he could examine his objects without losing feeling in his hands. Over the months, Luke had added to his collection: he gave him a wafer of sea glass that the brother said was the color of his eyes, and a metal whistle that had a round little ball within it that jangled like a bell when you shook it, and a small cloth doll of a man wearing a woolen burgundy top and a belt trimmed with tiny turquoise-colored beads that the brother said had been made by a Navajo Indian, and had been his when he was a boy. Two months ago, he had opened his bag and discovered that Luke had left him a candy cane, and although it had been February, he had been thrilled: he had always wanted to taste a candy cane, and he broke it into sections, sucking each into a spear point before biting down on it, gnashing the sugar into his molars.
如果卢克修士不在温室里，他就会玩他的东西打发时间。修士跟他示范过，如果他把温室远处角落的一叠塑料花盆搬开，会看到一块小小的铁栅栏，把铁栅栏拿开，就会发现底下有个小洞，放得下一个塑料垃圾袋，可以把东西藏在里面。于是他把自己收集的小树枝和石头从树底下挖出来，改放到温室的小洞里。温室长年温暖又潮湿，他可以在那里检视自己的收藏，不会冻得双手发麻。那几个月，卢克替他增加了一些收藏品：给了他一片海玻璃，说是他眼睛的颜色；还有一个金属哨子，里面有个小圆球，摇晃时会像个铃铛般叮当响；还有个小玩偶，是一个男人穿着酒红色的羊毛上衣，系的腰带边缘镶着松石绿的小珠子，修士说这是一个纳瓦霍印第安人做的，他小时候就有了。两个月前，他打开他的塑料袋，发现卢克留给他了一根圣诞节常见的红白纹拐杖糖，尽管当时已经是二月份了，但他还是兴奋极了：他从没吃过拐杖糖，一直想尝尝看，他把那根糖折成好几段，吸到每一段的头上都尖尖的，才放进嘴里，用臼齿碾磨。
The brother had told him that the next day he had to make sure to come right away, as soon as classes ended, because he had a surprise for him. All day he had been antsy and distracted, and although two of the brothers had hit him—Michael, across the face; Peter, across the backside—he had barely noticed. Only Brother David’s warning, that he would be made to do extra chores instead of having his free hours if he didn’t start concentrating, made him focus, and somehow, he finished the day.
卢克修士要他次日一下课就过来，有个惊喜要给他。这让他一整天都烦躁不安、魂不守舍，就算有两位修士打了他（迈克修士给了他一记耳光；彼得修士打了他屁股），他也几乎没多留心。直到戴维修士警告他，说他如果不专心上课，就要罚他多做其他杂务，也没有自由时间了，他这才专注起来，终于度过了这一天。
As soon as he was outside, out of view of the monastery building, he ran. It was spring, and he couldn’t help but feel happy: he loved the cherry trees, with their froth of pink blossoms, and the tulips, their glossed, improbable colors, and the new grass, soft and tender beneath him. Sometimes, when he was alone, he would take the Navajo doll and a twig he had found that was shaped like a person outside and sit on the grass and play with them. He made up voices for them both, whispering to himself, because Brother Michael had said that boys didn’t play with dolls, and that he was getting too old to play, anyway.
一等到他走出修道院外，看不见里头的人了，他就开始跑。这是春天，他忍不住快乐起来：他喜欢樱树，上头开满了泡沫般的粉红色花朵；也喜欢郁金香那发亮、不可思议的颜色；还有新长出来的青草，踩在脚下又软又柔。有时他会独自拿着纳瓦霍玩偶和一根形状像人的小树枝到户外，坐在草地上跟它们玩。他会出声假装它们在讲话，声音小得只有自己听得到，因为迈克修士说男生不可以玩娃娃，而且他太大了也不该玩。
He wondered if Brother Luke was watching him run. One Wednesday, Brother Luke had said, “I saw you running up here today,” and as he was opening his mouth to apologize, the brother had continued, “Boy, what a great runner you are! You’re so fast!” and he had been literally speechless, until the brother, laughing, told him he should close his mouth.
他很好奇这一刻卢克修士是不是看到他在跑。有个星期三，卢克修士跟他说：“我今天看到你跑来这里。”他张嘴正要道歉时，卢克修士又说：“小子，你真能跑！跑得好快！”他说不出话来，直到修士笑着说他应该把嘴巴闭上。
When he stepped inside the greenhouse, there was no one there. “Hello?” he called out. “Brother Luke?”
他走进温室时，里面没有人。“哈喽？”他喊道，“卢克修士？”
“In here,” he heard, and he turned toward the little room that was appended to the greenhouse, the one stocked with the supplies of fertilizer and bottles of ionized water and a hanging rack of clippers and shears and gardening scissors and the floor stacked with bags of mulch. He liked this room, with its woodsy, mossy smell, and he went toward it eagerly and knocked.
“在这里。”他听到他的声音，便转向了温室旁边的小屋。里面堆着肥料、一瓶瓶离子水和挂满大小剪刀和园艺剪的架子，地上堆着一袋袋护根层。他喜欢这个小屋，喜欢里面森林、苔藓的气味。他赶紧走过去敲门。
When he walked in, he was at first disoriented. The room was dark and still, but for a small flame that Brother Luke was bent over on the floor. “Come closer,” said the brother, and he did.
刚走进去时，他感到茫然不知所措。那房间昏暗寂静，卢克修士正弯腰对着地板上小小的火焰。“过来一点。”修士说。他照做了。
“Closer,” the brother said, and laughed. “Jude, it’s okay.”
“再过来一点，”修士说，然后大笑，“裘德，没关系的。”
So he went closer, and the brother held something up and said “Surprise!” and he saw it was a muffin, a muffin with a lit wooden match thrust into its center.
于是他凑得更近了，修士拿起一个东西说：“惊喜！”他看到一个小松糕，中央插着一小根点燃的火柴棒。
“What is it?” he asked.
“这是什么？”他问。
“It’s your birthday, right?” asked the brother. “And this is your birthday cake. Go on, make a wish; blow out the candle.”
“今天是你生日，对吧？”修士说，“这是你的生日蛋糕。来吧，许个愿，吹熄蜡烛。”
“It’s for me?” he asked, as the flame guttered.
“是给我的？”他问，看着那火焰摇曳不定。
“Yes, it’s for you,” said the brother. “Hurry, make a wish.”
“对，是给你的，”修士说，“快点，许个愿。”
He had never had a birthday cake before, but he had read about them and he knew what to do. He shut his eyes and wished, and then opened them and blew out the match, and the room went completely dark.
他从来没有过生日蛋糕，但他在书上读过，知道该怎么做。他闭上眼睛许愿，再睁开眼睛吹熄火柴，小屋里全黑了。
“Congratulations,” Luke said, and turned on the light. He handed him the muffin, and when he tried to offer the brother some of it, Luke shook his head: “It’s yours.” He ate the muffin, which had little blueberries and which he thought was the best thing he had ever tasted, so sweet and cakey, and the brother watched him and smiled.
“恭喜你！”卢克说，然后打开灯。他把松糕递给他。他想分给修士一点，但卢克摇摇头：“这是你的了。”他吃了那夹了小颗蓝莓的松糕，觉得是他这辈子吃过最好吃的东西，很甜又很松软。修士看着他露出微笑。
“And I have something else for you,” said Luke, and reached behind him, and handed him a package, a large flat box wrapped in newspaper and tied with string. “Go on, open it,” Luke said, and he did, removing the newspaper carefully so it could be reused. The box was plain faded cardboard, and when he opened it, he found it contained an assortment of round pieces of wood. Each piece was notched on both ends, and Brother Luke showed him how the pieces could be slotted within one another to build boxes, and then how he could lay twigs across the top to make a sort of roof. Many years later, when he was in college, he would see a box of these logs in the window of a toy store, and would realize that his gift had been missing parts: a red-peaked triangular structure to build a roof, and the flat green planks that lay across it. But in the moment, it had left him mute with joy, until he had remembered his manners and thanked the brother again and again.
“我还有一个东西要给你。”卢克说，伸手从背后拿出一个包裹给他。那是一个大大的扁盒子，用报纸包着，上头系了绳子。“来吧，打开它。”卢克说，于是他解开绳子，把报纸小心翼翼地拆掉以便今后好再利用。那是个普通的褪色硬纸盒，他打开来，发现里面装了各式各样的原木。每一根两端都有凹口，卢克修士教他把凹槽互嵌，构成一个方盒子，然后把树枝排在顶端，成为某种屋顶。多年以后，他上大学时，看到一家玩具店的橱窗里有一盒这种原木，这才明白当年他那份礼物缺了某些部分：一个可当屋顶的红色三角形尖顶结构，还有铺在上头的绿色木板。但他小时候收到它的那一刻，已经开心得说不出话来，直到他想起要有礼貌，才对修士谢了又谢。
