第三十六章 贝丝的秘密
第三十六章 贝丝的秘密
那年春天乔到回家时，她对贝丝身上发生的变化感到吃惊。没有人提到这种变化，似乎也没有人觉察到。变化是逐步逐步地出现的，每天碰到的人，并不感到惊诧。当然，对于离开一段时间而擦亮眼睛的人来讲，变化是一目了然的。乔见到妹妹的面容，内心感到很沉重。苍白的面色跟去年秋天差不多，但消瘦多了，不过，脸上带有一种奇特的透明神色，似乎凡人因素已经缓缓提炼掉了，而脆弱的肉身透出不朽的亮丽，带着一种不可名状的凄凉的美。乔看在眼里，感同身受，但当时一言未发。不久，她的初步印象便失去了大部分力度。贝丝似乎很愉快，似乎没有人表示怀疑她身体好多了。当时，乔正陷于其他的烦恼，一时便忘记了自己的担忧。
劳里走了之后，一切又都平静了。乔感到隐隐的焦虑回归了，并缠绕着她。她吐露了自己的罪孽，大家宽恕了她。但是，后来她向妹妹展示自己的积蓄，并且提议去山地旅行时，贝丝向她表示深深谢意之后，却恳求不要离开家那么远。妹妹觉得，再去一趟海边小住更加适合自己。由于无法劝动外婆丢下婴儿，乔便把贝丝带到了那个安静的地方，在那里，贝丝可以大量呼吸野外的空气，让海边新鲜的微风吹红她那苍白的面庞。
这地方不算时髦，但是，即使和一些愉快的人在一起，姐妹俩也很少交朋友。她们喜欢相依为命。贝丝很害羞，不敢接触外界，而乔一心想着贝丝，也顾不上关心别人了。所以，她们姐妹俩待在小天地里，独来独往，根本没有意识到，自己已经引起周围人的兴趣。外人以同情的目光观察着这对强姐弱妹，她们总是互不相离，似乎已经本能地感到，彼此永别已经为时不远了。
她俩确实都感觉到了，但谁都没有说出口。在我们与至爱亲朋之间，往往存在着一种难以打破的隔阂，所以，乔觉得贝丝和她的心之间，拉上了一层面纱。每当她伸手去拉开时，似乎宁静的气氛中有着某种神圣的东西，让乔等待贝丝先开口。乔感到迷惑不解，也觉得很庆幸，因为父母亲好像并没有发现她所看见的那些事情。那几周过得十分清静，她心中的阴影越来越清楚，但她没有对家里人提起，认为等到贝丝回到家之后，身体状况毫无起色时，一切都会不言自明。乔越发纳闷，妹妹是否已经猜测到严酷的真相，当贝丝长时间躺在温暖的岩石上，头靠着她的腿部，任凭有益健康的海风吹拂着，聆听脚边浪花歌唱时，脑子里都在想些啥呢？
有一天，贝丝向她袒露了。当时，乔以为她睡着了，因为，她一动不动地躺着。她把书放在一边，若有所思地望着妹妹，试图从苍白的脸颊上看到希望的征兆。但她并没有看到令人满意的结果。贝丝的面颊仍然很消瘦，双手无力，仿佛连采集的玫瑰色小贝壳都捧不住。乔越发痛苦起来，知道贝丝在缓缓离她而去。于是，她就本能地抱紧了自己最值钱的宝贝。乔一时觉得目光模糊，看不清东西。后来，当她看清时，只见贝丝温柔地仰望她，仿佛根本没有必要地说：“亲爱的乔，你都知道了，我很高兴。我曾经想告诉你，但说不出口。”
她不回答，也无泪，两个人脸贴着脸。伤心时，乔从来都不哭。当时，她比贝丝更虚弱，妹妹试图安慰她，勉励她——双臂拥抱着她，轻声地在她耳边说着宽心的话。
“乖乖，我早已明白了。现在，我已经习以为常了。考虑这件事，加以忍受，其实并不难。你尽可以这样来考虑，别为我难过，因为，这是最好的解脱了，千真万确。”
“贝丝，你在秋天这么闷闷不乐，就是为了这件事吗？难道你那时就已知道并一直一个人承受到今天吗？”乔问道。可是她不愿意知道或者说出这就是最好的解脱。然而，乔很高兴得知，劳里与贝丝的麻烦无关。
“是的，当时我放弃了一切希望，但不愿意去承认它。我尽量去认为，那是一种病态的痴想，所以，不想让它去扰乱别人。不过，当我看见你们大家都精神焕发，身体强健，又有那么多幸福的打算时，不免觉得，难道我就不能像你们那样生活吗？那时，我的心情很惨的，乔。”
“唉，贝丝，你却没有告诉我，没让我安慰你，没让我帮助你呀！怎么能拒我于局外，独自一人忍受呢？”
乔的嗓音充满了温柔的责怪口气。一想到贝丝孤独的挣扎，她就心痛不已。贝丝学会向健康、爱情和生命告别，快乐地背起十字架的过程中，一定是在孤军奋战啊。
“也许，这都是错的，但我尽力好自为之。我心里也没有数，没有人说过这些事。我希望自己搞错了。怎么能用这事去吓唬你们大家，那样做就自私了。当时，母亲在操心美格，艾美不在家，你跟劳里在一起那么愉快——至少，我当时是这样认为的。”
“我那时认为你是爱他的，贝丝。我离开，是因为无法爱他。”乔把心里话一吐为快。
贝丝对于乔的想法实在太惊讶了，弄得乔不顾贝丝的苦楚笑了笑，轻轻地往下说：“那么，你不爱他，乖乖？我担心真有这么回事啊，心想那时候，你那颗脆弱的心一直在为情所困呢。”
“嘿，乔，他那么爱你，我怎么会呢？”贝丝像天真的孩子似的反问道，“我确实很爱他。他对我那么好，我怎么能不爱呢？但是，他除了当姐夫之外，又能成为什么人？我真希望有一天，他真的成为那种人。”
“不会通过我联姻的。”乔口气坚定地说，“艾美是留给他的。他俩很般配。但是，我现在对于这种事没有心思。贝丝，除了你，别人会怎么样，我并不在乎。你可得好好康复啊。”
“哎，我实在想康复的！我在尝试，可是每天都会失去一些，而且日益确信，失去的再也回不来了。就像大海的潮水，乔，一旦退潮，虽然缓慢，但是无法阻拦。”
“必须阻拦，你的潮水不能这么早就退，十九岁还太年轻呀。贝丝，我不能让你走。我要苦干，为你祈祷，为你抗争。无论如何，我都要保住你。一定有办法的，还来得及。上帝不会残忍得将你我分离。”可怜的乔大声反抗道，她的精神状态远远不如贝丝那么温顺而虔诚了。
心地单纯而真诚的人很少会奢谈虔诚，他们不会夸夸其谈，而是将其体现于行动。这样做所产生的影响力强于信誓旦旦的说教、表白。贝丝无法论证，也无法解释是什么信念给了她勇气和耐心去放弃生命，笑迎死亡。她就像一个袒露心扉的孩子，什么问题都不问，便将一切都交给了上帝和大自然，给了我们大家的父母亲。她确信，他们，只有他们才能够教诲人，加强人的心灵，振作人的精神去面对现世和来世。她没有用圣人的大话去责怪乔，而是为乔的满腔热情而更加热爱乔了，更加密切地拥抱可贵的人类亲情。天父从不规定我们要戒掉它，反而通过它吸引我们亲近天父。贝丝不能说：“我乐意离开。”因为，生命对于她还是甜蜜的。她紧紧抓住乔，只能抽泣着说：“我尽可能做到愿意离开。”此刻，这巨大苦恼的第一波苦涩潮水向她俩袭来。
后来，贝丝的思绪渐渐地恢复了宁静。她问道：“回家之后，你会告诉他们吗？”
“我想不说他们也会知道的。”乔叹息道。她觉得，贝丝每天都有变化。
“或许不会吧。听说，凡是深爱的人，对于这种事情都是熟视无睹的。他们如果觉察不出，你就替我告诉吧。我不需要保留任何秘密，让他们先有思想准备更友善。美格有约翰和孩子去安慰她。你必须坚决留在父母身边，好吗，乔？”
“我尽力而为。可是，贝丝，我还没有放弃呢。我开始认为，那正是病态的痴想，不想让你信以为真。”乔尽量欢快地说道。
贝丝躺着沉思了一会儿。接着，她安静地说：“不知道该怎样表达自己，除了你，我不想对任何人讲。因为，我只能对你倾吐肺腑之言。我只想说，自己觉得命中并没有打算要我长寿。我跟你们其他人不一样，从来没有制订长大后该做哪些事的计划，也从来没有向你们一样考虑过结婚。我除了认为自己是一个愚笨的小贝丝，只会在家奔跑，到哪儿都没有用之外，真难以想象自己会成就什么事。我从来都没有想过外出，现在棘手的是要离开大家。我不害怕，但是，我似乎觉得，即便上了天堂都会想家的。”
乔一时不知道该说什么好。只有海风呼呼，海潮拍岸。几分钟过去了，一只白翅膀的海鸥展翅飞过，银灰色的胸脯反射出一道太阳的光辉。贝丝目送着海鸥在天空消失，眼里充满了悲伤的神情。这时候，有一只灰毛的小沙鸥在海滩上轻盈地跳跃，顾自轻声唧唧，似乎在欣赏天上的太阳和地上的大海。有时候，那只鸟飞得离贝丝很近，用友好的目光望着她，然后，停落在温暖的岩石上，梳理身上湿润的羽毛，显得相当自在。贝丝笑了，感到一阵安慰，因为，这只小生灵似乎在向她示好，提醒她，世界是美好的，仍然值得自己去欣赏。
“可爱的小鸟！乔，你看，多么驯服啊。海鸥和唧唧沙鸥相比，我更喜欢沙鸥。虽然野性不足，样子一般，但看上去很愉快，是贴心的小家伙。我去年夏天度假称其为我的小鸟。妈妈说，这些小鸟往往使她想到我——一刻都不停，素色羽毛，总爱靠近海边，哼着自得其乐的曲子。乔，你是一只海鸥，健壮狂野，喜爱暴风雨，时常飞往大海深处，独自开心。美格则是一只斑鸠。而艾美像一只她所描绘的云雀，总想飞入云霄，但总是落进自己的巢穴。真是可爱的小妹妹啊！那么有抱负，但心地善良温柔，无论飞得多高，绝不会忘记家园。希望能再次见到她，可是她似乎又飞得那么遥远。”
“她春天会回来的。我是说，你要准备好，再次见到她，欣赏她。到那时候，我会把你调养得身轻体健，容光焕发。”乔说道。她觉得，贝丝身上发生的所有变化中，说话的变化最大，因为，现在说话似乎并不费力。妹妹在自言自语，已经根本不像过去那个害羞的贝丝。
“亲爱的乔，不要再希望了。那样徒劳无益，我敢肯定。我们不要再凄凄惨惨，而要享受亲情，在一起等待。我们会有欢快时光的，因为，我现在并不难受。如果你帮助我，我想退潮会顺利的。”
乔弯下腰亲吻那张宁静的脸庞。随着那安静的吻，她将自己的身心都献给了贝丝。
她想得对。她们回家时，无须说什么话。父母祈祷免于看见的东西，早已昭然若揭。贝丝经过短途旅行，已经筋疲力尽，回到家便上床了。她说能够回到家真是比什么都好。后来，乔走下楼，发现已经不用再吃苦费力去叙述贝丝的秘密了。她进屋时，只见父亲的头靠着壁炉台，一动不动，而母亲伸出双臂，似乎在求救。乔一句话未说，走向前给予她无声的安慰。
CHAPTER 36 BETH'S SECRET
CHAPTER 36 BETH'S SECRET
WHEN JO CAME HOME that spring, she had been struck with the change in Beth. No one spoke of it or seemed aware of it, for it had come too gradually to startle those who saw her daily, but to eyes sharpened by absence, it was very plain and a heavy weight fell on Jo's heart as she saw her sister's face. It was no paler and but little thinner than in the autumn, yet there was a strange, transparent look about it, as if the mortal was being slowly refined away, and the immortal shining through the frail flesh with an indescribably pathetic beauty. Jo saw and felt it, but said nothing at the time, and soon the first impression lost much of its power, for Beth seemed happy, no one appeared to doubt that she was better, and presently in other cares Jo for a time forgot her fear.
But when Laurie was gone, and peace prevailed again, the vague anxiety returned and haunted her. She had confessed her sins and been forgiven, but when she showed her savings and proposed a mountain trip, Beth had thanked her heartily, but begged not to go so far away from home. Another little visit to the seashore would suit her better, and as Grandma could not be prevailed upon to leave the babies, Jo took Beth down to the quiet place, where she could live much in the open air, and let the fresh sea breezes blow a little color into her pale cheeks.
It was not a fashionable place, but even among the pleasant people there, the girls made few friends, preferring to live for one another. Beth was too shy to enjoy society, and Jo too wrapped up in her to care for anyone else. So they were all in all to each other, and came and went, quite unconscious of the interest they exited in those about them, who watched with sympathetic eyes the strong sister and the feeble one, always together, as if they felt instinctively that a long separation was not far away.
They did feel it, yet neither spoke of it, for often between ourselves and those nearest and dearest to us there exists a reserve which it is very hard to overcome. Jo felt as if a veil had fallen between her heart and Beth's, but when she put out her hand to lift it up, there seemed something sacred in the silence, and she waited for Beth to speak. She wondered, and was thankful also, that her parents did not seem to see what she saw, and during the quiet weeks when the shadows grew so plain to her, she said nothing of it to those at home, believing that it would tell itself when Beth came back no better. She wondered still more if her sister really guessed the hard truth, and what thoughts were passing through her mind during the long hours when she lay on the warm rocks with her head in Jo's lap, while the winds blew healthfully over her and the sea made music at her feet.
One day Beth told her. Jo thought she was asleep, she lay so still, and putting down her book, sat looking at her with wistful eyes, trying to see signs of hope in the faint color on Beth's cheeks. But she could not find enough to satisfy her, for the cheeks were very thin, and the hands seemed too feeble to hold even the rosy little shells they had been gathering. It came to her then more bitterly than ever that Beth was slowly drifting away from her, and her arms instinctively tightened their hold upon the dearest treasure she possessed. For a minute her eyes were too dim for seeing, and when they cleared, Beth was looking up at her so tenderly that there was hardly any need for her to say, “Jo, dear, I'm glad you know it. I've tried to tell you, but I couldn't.”
There was no answer except her sister's cheek against her own, not even tears, for when most deeply moved, Jo did not cry. She was the weaker then, and Beth tried to comfort and sustain her, with her arms about her and the soothing words she whispered in her ear.
“I've known it for a good while, dear, and, now I'm used to it, it isn't hard to think of or to bear. Try to see it so and don't be troubled about me, because it's best, indeed it is.”
“Is this what made you so unhappy in the autumn, Beth? You did not feel it then, and keep it to yourself so long, did you? ” asked Jo, refusing to see or say that it was best,but glad to know that Laurie had no part in Beth's trouble.
“Yes, I gave up hoping then, but I didn't like to own it. I tried to think it was a sick fancy, and would not let it trouble anyone. But when I saw you all so well and strong and full of happy plans, it was hard to feel that I could never be like you, and then I was miserable, Jo.”
“Oh, Beth, and you didn't tell me, didn't let me comfort and help you! How could you shut me out, bear it all alone? ”
Jo's voice was full of tender reproach, and her heart ached to think of the solitary struggle that must have gone on while Beth learned to say good-by to health, love, and life, and take up her cross so cheerfully.
“Perhaps it was wrong, but I tried to do right. I wasn't sure, no one said anything, and I hoped I was mistaken. It would have been selfish to frighten you all when Marmee was so anxious about Meg, and Amy away, and you so happy with Laurie—at least I thought so then.”
“And I thought you loved him, Beth, and I went away because I couldn't, ” cried Jo, glad to say all the truth.
Beth looked so amazed at the idea that Jo smiled in spite of her pain, and added softly, “Then you didn't, deary? I was afraid it was so, and imagined your poor little heart full of lovelornity all that while.”
“Why, Jo, how could I, when he was so fond of you? ” asked Beth, as innocently as a child. “I do love him dearly. He is so good to me, how can I help it? But he could never be anything to me but my brother. I hope he truly will be, sometime.”
“Not through me, ” said Jo decidedly. “Amy is left for him, and they would suit excellently, but I have no heart for such things, now. I don't care what becomes of anybody but you, Beth. You must get well.”
“I want to, oh, so much! I try, but every day I lose a little, and feel more sure that I shall never gain it back. It's like the tide, Jo, when it turns, it goes slowly, but it can't be stopped.”
“It shall be stopped,your tide must not turn so soon,nineteen is too young, Beth. I can't let you go. I'll work and pray and fight against it. I'll keep you in spite of everything. There must be ways, it can't be too late. God won't be so cruel as to take you from me, ” cried poor Jo rebelliously, for her spirit was far less piously submissive than Beth's.
Simple, sincere people seldom speak much of their piety. It shows itself in acts rather than in words, and has more influence than homilies or protestations. Beth could not reason upon or explain the faith that gave her courage and patience to give up life, and cheerfully wait for death. Like a confiding child, she asked no questions, but left everything to God and nature, Father and Mother of us all, feeling sure that they, and they only, could teach and strengthen heart and spirit for this life and the life to come. She did not rebuke Jo with saintly speeches, only loved her better for her passionate affection, and clung more closely to the dear human love, from which our Father never means us to be weaned, but through which He draws us closer to Himself. She could not say, “I'm glad to go, ” for life was very sweet for her. She could only sob out, “I try to be willing, ” while she held fast to Jo, as the first bitter wave of this great sorrow broke over them together.
By and by Beth said, with recovered serenity, “You'll tell them this when we go home? ”
“I think they will see it without words, ” sighed Jo, for now it seemed to her that Beth changed every day.
“Perhaps not. I've heard that the people who love best are often blindest to such things. If they don't see it, you will tell them for me. I don't want any secrets, and it's kinder to prepare them. Meg has John and the babies to comfort her, but you must stand by Father and Mother, won't you, Jo? ”
“If I can. But, Beth, I don't give up yet. I'm going to believe that it is a sick fancy,and not let you think it's true.”said Jo,trying to speak cheerfully.
Beth lay a minute thinking, and then said in her quiet way, “I don't know how to express myself, and shouldn't try to anyone but you, because I can't speak out except to my Jo. I only mean to say that I have a feeling that it never was intended I should live long. I'm not like the rest of you. I never made any plans about what I'd do when I grew up; I never thought of being married, as you all did. I couldn't seem to imagine myself anything but stupid little Beth, trotting about at home, of no use anywhere but there. I never wanted to go away, and the hard part now is the leaving you all. I'm not afraid, but it seems as if I should be homesick for you even in heaven.”
Jo could not speak, and for several minutes there was no sound but the sigh of the wind and the lapping of the tide. A white-winged gull flew by, with the flash of sunshine on its silvery breast; Beth watched it till it vanished, and her eyes were full of sadness. A little gray-coated sand bird came tripping over the beach, “peeping” softly to itself, as if enjoying the sun and sea. It came quite close to Beth, and looked at her with a friendly eye and sat upon a warm stone, dressing its wet feathers, quite at home. Beth smiled and felt comforted, for the tiny thing seemed to offer its small friendship and remind her that a pleasant world was still to be enjoyed.
“Dear little bird! See, Jo, how tame it is. I like peeps better than the gulls. They are not so wild and handsome, but they seem happy, confiding little things. I used to call them my birds last summer, and Mother said they reminded her of me—busy, quaker-colored creatures, always near the shore, and always chirping that contented little song of theirs. You are the gull, Jo, strong and wild, fond of the storm and the wind, flying far out to sea, and happy all alone. Meg is the turtledove, and Amy is like the lark she writes about, trying to get up among the clouds, but always dropping down into its nest again. Dear little girl! She's so ambitious, but her heart is good and tender, and no matter how high she flies, she never will forget home. I hope I shall see her again, but she seems so far away.”
“She is coming in the spring, and I mean that you shall be all ready to see and enjoy her. I'm going to have you well and rosy by that time, ”began Jo, feeling that of all the changes in Beth, the talking change was the greatest, for it seemed to cost no effort now, and she thought aloud in a way quite unlike bashful Beth.
“Jo, dear, don't hope any more. It won't do any good. I'm sure of that. We won't be miserable, but enjoy being together while we wait. We'll have happy times, for I don't suffer much, and I think the tide will go out easily, if you help me.”
Jo leaned down to kiss the tranquil face, and with that silent kiss, she dedicated herself soul and body to Beth.
She was right: there was no need of any words when they got home, for Father and Mother saw plainly now what they had prayed to be saved from seeing. Tired with her short journey, Beth went at once to bed, saying how glad she was to be home, and when Jo went down, she found that she would be spared the hard task of telling Beth's secret. Her father stood leaning his head on the mantelpiece, and did not turn as she came in; but her mother stretched out her arms as if for help, and Jo went to comfort her without a word.
