“January third,” he said.

“一月三号。”他说。

　 “So soon!” said Gillian.

“这么快！”吉莉安说。

　 He smiled back at her. “Not soon enough,” he said. He meant it; he was ready to try to be normal again, to make another attempt at being alive.

他朝她微笑。“还不够快呢。”他说。他是真心这么觉得，他已经准备好要设法恢复正常，再努力试着活下去。

　 He and Willem left early, and that evening he cut himself for the second time since he was released from the hospital. This was another thing the drugs had dampened: his need to cut, to feel that bright, startling slap of pain. The first time he did it, he was shocked by how much it hurt, and had actually wondered why he had been doing this to himself for so long—what had he been thinking? But then he felt everything within him slow, felt himself relax, felt his memories dim, and had remembered how it helped him, remembered why he had begun doing it at all. The scars from his attempt were three vertical lines on both arms, from the base of his palm to just below the inside of his elbow, and they hadn’t healed well; it looked as if he had shoved pencils just beneath the skin. They had a strange, pearly shine, almost as if the skin had been burned, and now he made a fist, watching them tighten in response.

他和威廉很早就离开了。那天晚上他在浴室里割自己，是他出院后的第二次。这是药物之前抑制的另一件事：他割自己的需要，感受那种鲜明、震撼的疼痛的需要。他第一次割的时候，很惊讶居然这么痛，还纳闷为什么他长期以来要这样对自己——当时他在想什么啊？但接着他感觉心中的一切放慢下来，自己轻松了，而记忆变得模糊，就想起这件事在过往如何帮助了自己，为什么他当初会开始做这件事。他企图自杀的疤痕是双手的三道垂直线，从手掌根延伸到接近手肘内侧，而且痊愈得并不好，看起来就像是他把一根根铅笔硬塞进皮肤底下。现在那些疤痕有一种奇异、珍珠般的光泽，简直像皮肤被烧过似的，现在他握起拳头时，就会看到那些疤痕绷紧。

　 That night he woke screaming, which had been happening as he readjusted to life, to an existence with dreams; on the drugs, there were no dreams, not really, or if there were, they were so strange and pointless and meandering that he soon forgot them. But in this dream he was in one of the motel rooms, and there was a group of men, and they were grabbing at him, and he was desperate, trying to fight them. But they kept multiplying, and he knew he would lose, he knew he would be destroyed.

那一夜他尖叫着醒来。这种事在他重新调整、进入有梦的生活后，就开始发生了。之前吃药，他不会做梦，就算做了梦，梦境也太奇怪或没有意义，所以醒来后很快就忘了。但在这回的梦里，他在汽车旅馆房间内，有一群男人抓着他，他很绝望，设法反抗。但他们的数量一再成倍数地增加，他知道自己会输，他知道自己会被摧毁。

　 One of the men kept calling his name, and then put his hand on his cheek, and for some reason that made him more terrified, and he pushed his hand away, and then the man poured water on him and he woke, gasping, to see Willem next to him, his face pale, holding a glass in his hand. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Willem said, “I couldn’t get you out of it, Jude, I’m sorry. I’m going to get you a towel,” and came back with a towel and the glass filled with water, but he was shaking too badly to hold it. He apologized again and again to Willem, who shook his head and told him not to worry, that it was all right, that it was just a dream. Willem got him a new shirt, and turned around as he changed and then took the wet one to the bathroom.

其中一个男人一直喊他名字，然后把手放在他脸颊上。出于某些原因，这让他更害怕，便把对方的手推开，接着那男人就朝他泼水。他喘着气醒来，看到威廉在他旁边，脸色苍白，手里有个玻璃杯。“对不起，对不起，”威廉说，“我实在没办法叫醒你，裘德，对不起。我去拿毛巾给你。”威廉拿着一条毛巾和装满水的玻璃杯回来，但他抖得太厉害没法拿稳。他对威廉再三道歉，威廉只是摇摇头叫他别担心，说没关系的，那只是个梦。威廉拿了一件新衬衫给他，背过身子让他换衣服，再把湿掉的那件拿去浴室。

　 “Who’s Brother Luke?” asked Willem, as they sat there together in silence and waited for his breathing to return to normal. And then, when he didn’t answer, “You kept screaming ‘Help me, Brother Luke, help me.’ ” He was quiet. “Who is he, Jude? Was he someone from the monastery?”

“谁是卢克修士？”威廉问。此时两人沉默地坐在一起，等着他的呼吸恢复正常。他没回答。“你一直叫着：‘帮我，卢克修士，帮我。’”他还是没吭声。“裘德，他是谁？是修道院里的人吗？”

　 “I can’t, Willem,” he said, and he yearned for Ana. Ask me one more time, Ana, he said to her, and I’ll tell you. Teach me how to do it. This time I’ll listen. This time I’ll talk.

“威廉，我没办法谈。”他说，而且好怀念安娜。再问我一次，安娜。他对她说，然后我就会告诉你。教我怎么做。这回我会认真听的。这回我会讲的。

　 That weekend they went to Richard’s house upstate and took a long walk through the woods that backed the property. Later, he successfully completed the first meal he’d cooked since he was released. He made Willem’s favorite, lamb chops, and although he’d needed Willem’s help carving the chop itself—he still wasn’t agile enough to do it on his own—he did everything else by himself. That night he woke again, screaming, and again there was Willem (though without the glass of water this time), and him asking about Brother Luke, and why he kept begging for his help, and again, he wasn’t able to answer.

那个周末，他们去理查德在纽约州北部的别墅，到房子后方的森林里长途散步。稍后，他成功做了出院后的第一餐。他做了威廉最喜欢吃的羊小排，虽然他得让威廉帮忙切开羊排（他的手还没灵活到可以自己切），但其他都是他自己做的。那天夜里他又尖叫着惊醒，威廉再度来到他床边（这回没拿水泼他），又问起卢克修士，还有为什么他一直求他帮忙。再一次，他还是没办法回答。

　 The next day he was tired, and his arms ached, and his body ached as well, and on their walk, he said very little, and Willem didn’t say much himself. In the afternoon they reviewed their plans for Morocco: they would begin in Fez, and then drive through the desert, where they’d stay near Ouarzazate, and end in Marrakech. On their way back, they’d stop in Paris to visit Citizen and a friend of Willem’s for a few days; they’d be home just before the new year.

次日他感觉很累。双臂疼痛，身体也在痛，于是散步时他没怎么说话，威廉也没多说。下午他们检查去摩洛哥的计划：他们会从非斯出发，开车经过沙漠，期间待在瓦尔扎扎特附近，最后，终点是马拉喀什。回程时，他们会去巴黎待几天，拜访西提任和威廉的一个朋友，然后在元旦之前回到纽约。

　 As they were eating dinner, Willem said, “You know, I thought of what you could give me for my birthday.”

他们吃晚餐时，威廉说：“我想到你可以送什么生日礼物给我了。”

　 “Oh?” he said, relieved to be able to concentrate on something he could give Willem, rather than having to ask Willem for yet more help, thinking of all the time he had stolen from him. “Let’s hear it.”

“哦？”他说，松了一口气，因为他可以专心想他能给威廉的东西，而非一直想着要求威廉帮更多忙，总想着自己占掉他那么多时间，“说来听听看吧。”

　 “Well,” said Willem, “it’s kind of a big thing.”

“唔，”威廉说，“算是个大礼了。”

　 “Anything,” he said. “I mean it,” and Willem gave him a look he couldn’t quite interpret. “Really,” he assured him. “Anything.”

“什么都行，”他说，“我是认真的。”威廉看了他一眼，他不太能解读。“真的，”他又保证，“什么都可以。”

　 Willem put down his lamb sandwich and took a breath. “Okay,” he said. “What I really want for my birthday is for you to tell me who Brother Luke is. And not just who he is, but what your—your relationship with him was, and why you think you keep calling out his name at night.” He looked at him. “I want you to be honest, and thorough, and tell me the whole story. That’s what I want.”

威廉放下小羊肉三明治，吸了口气。“好吧，”威廉说，“我真正想要的生日礼物，就是你告诉我卢克修士是谁。不光是他的身份，还包括你——你和他的关系，以及你觉得为什么你总在夜里喊他的名字，”威廉看着他，“我要你诚实、详尽地告诉我整个故事。这就是我想要的。”

　 There was a long silence. He realized he still had a mouthful of food, and he somehow swallowed it, and put down his sandwich as well, which he was still holding aloft. “Willem,” he said at last, because he knew that Willem was serious, and that he wouldn’t be able to dissuade him, to convince him to wish for something else, “part of me does want to tell you. But if I do—” He stopped. “But if I do, I’m afraid you’re going to be disgusted by me. Wait,” he said, as Willem began to speak. He looked at Willem’s face. “I promise you I will. I promise you. But—but you’re going to have to give me some time. I’ve never really discussed it before, and I need to figure out how to say the words.”

接下来是一长段沉默。他忽然发现自己还满嘴食物，于是想办法吞下去，再放下举在半空的三明治。“威廉，”最后他终于说了，因为他知道威廉是认真的，而且他没办法拒绝，说服他改要别的礼物，“一部分的我的确想要告诉你。但如果我说了……”他停下，“如果我说了，我怕你会厌恶我。等等。”看到威廉正要开口，他说。他注视威廉的脸。“我答应你我会说。我答应你。但是……但是你得给我一点时间。我从来没跟人真正讨论过这件事，我得想清楚该怎么说出那些话。”

　 “Okay,” Willem said at last. “Well.” He paused. “How about if we work up to it, then? I ask you about something easier, and you answer that, and you’ll see that it’s not so bad, talking about it? And if it is, we’ll discuss that, too.”

“好吧，”威廉最后终于说，“那么，”他暂停一下，“如果我们一起想办法呢？我问你一些简单点的问题，你回答，这样你就明白谈一谈其实没那么难？如果真的很困难，我们再商量看看。”

　 He inhaled; exhaled. This is Willem, he reminded himself. He would never hurt you, not ever. It’s time. It’s time. “Okay,” he said, finally. “Okay. Ask me.”

他吸了口气，吐出来。这是威廉啊，他提醒自己。他永远不会伤害你的，绝对不会。时候到了，该说出来了。“好吧，”他终于说，“好吧。问我吧。”

　 He could see Willem leaning back in his chair and staring at him, trying to determine which to choose of the hundreds of questions that one friend should be able to ask another and yet he had never been allowed to do. Tears came to his eyes, then, for how lopsided he had let their friendship become, and for how long Willem had stayed with him, year after year, even when he had fled from him, even when he had asked him for help with problems whose origins he wouldn’t reveal. In his new life, he promised himself, he would be less demanding of his friends; he would be more generous. Whatever they wanted, he would give them. If Willem wanted information, he could have it, and it was up to him to figure out how to give it to him. He would be hurt again and again—everyone was—but if he was going to try, if he was going to be alive, he had to be tougher, he had to prepare himself, he had to accept that this was part of the bargain of life itself.

他看到威廉盯着他往后靠，设法决定该从几百个问题里挑出哪一个，才是一个朋友该问另一个朋友、但从来都不能问的。他双眼涌出泪水，因为他让他们的友谊变得这么不平衡，也因为这么多年来威廉都陪着他，一年又一年，即使他一再逃避，即使他拿自己的问题向他求助、却不肯说出问题的缘由。他对自己承诺，在他新的人生里，他不会再那么苛求朋友了，他会更大方。无论他们想要什么，他都会给他们。如果威廉想要信息，就该给他，他自己必须琢磨该如何给。他会一次又一次受伤——每个人都会——但如果他打算尝试，如果他打算活下去，他就得更坚强一点，他得准备好自己，他得接受这是人生必然会有的取舍。

　 “Okay, I’ve got one,” Willem said, and he sat up straighter, readying himself. “How did you get the scar on the back of your hand?”

“好，我想到一个了，”威廉说。他的身子挺得更直，让自己准备好，“你手背上的那个疤是怎么来的？”