I stuff some magazines and soda into a canvas bag and look around for Ike. I hear him running up the basement steps. He presents a scrap of siding that is covered in glue and cricket exoskeletons. The couple exchange glance. The inspector scribbles a note.
我把一些杂志和苏打放到塑料袋里,看了一眼四周找艾克。我听见他从地下室跑上来。艾克拿着一个带着胶水和蟋蟀尸体的坏墙板上来。这对夫妻看了一眼对方。房屋检查员不知道写下了什么。
I crouch down to the floor and touch Ike's cheeks. You're brave, I say. Thank you. Ike grins. Together, we can make a solid grilled cheese, prune shrubs, clean house. Together, maybe we're the housewlfe this house needs. Maybe our best life is here.
我摸着艾克的脸说,你真勇敢,谢谢你。艾克笑了一下。在一起,我们可以一起做奶酪,一起修剪灌木,一起打扫房间。在一起,我们也许就是这个家里需要的家庭主妇。也许我们最好的生活就是在这个家里。
A week before she left for the nursing home, we packed my mother's belongings-robes, slippers, and lotions that could do little good for her sagging face. Her diminished vision made it hard for her to read the labels on the boxes.
在妈妈去疗养院的前一周我帮她打包行李。她的长袍、拖鞋,还有对她下垂的脸部肌肉有点好处的乳液。她的视力已经差到看不清盒子上面的标签了。
I held up various little souvenirs for Mom's approval.
我拿起了各种各样的纪念品问妈妈。
Take or toss? I asked.
留着还是扔了?我问。
Mom sat in her recliner. She wore a light blue dress she'd made herself. The fabric was so worn it was nearly transparent. Carnie rested comfortably on her shoulder. I worried that his talons would break her thinning skin, but she moved as if she hardly noticed his weight.
妈妈坐在椅子上,穿着她自己做的淡蓝色长裙。衣服洗了太多次好像都要透明了。卡尼在她的肩膀上舒服地休息。我担心他的爪子会弄伤妈妈瘦弱的肩膀,但是妈妈躲开了,就好像她从没关注过他的体重一样。
Toss 'em, she said.
扔了吧,她说。
I began to wrap her glassware in newspaper.
我开始用报纸把她的眼镜包起来。
Make sure to leave plenty of print for lining Carnie's cage, she said.
给卡尼的笼子多留点报纸,她说。
My mother cupped Carnie with both hands and brought him to her lap. She crossed her legs, then scratched the finger-wide point between Carnie's wings. His eyes, like little black seeds, fell to half-mast as she stroked him. They were accustomed to each other. He was more familiar with her voice and touch than I, more dear to her everyday existence.
妈妈用两只手把鹦鹉放到了腿上。她把腿交叉,把手放在了卡尼的翅膀上。他黑种子似的眼睛在妈妈摸他的时候眯成了一条缝。他们熟悉彼此的存在了。他更熟悉我妈妈的声音和触摸,更喜欢她每天都在。
Don't call here again, he said. Don't call.
别再往这打电话了,别打了。卡尼说。
Remember, I told my mother. I'm not obligated to look after that bird.
我跟妈妈说过,我没有义务照顾这只鹦鹉。
Well, she said. I'm not obligated to look after you.
妈妈说,我也没有义务照顾你。
You are, i'd thought at the time, her splinter in my chest. You have to be.
你有,我当时想。她的话把我的胸膛都撕碎了。你不得不。
In that moment, I withered. I hated her for her coldness, her stubborn rationale, her ability to come up big in a fight even when she was dog-tired and bird-boned and couldn't see the food on the end of her fork.
在那一瞬间,我完全手足无措了。我受不了她的冷淡,受不了她不依不饶的据理力争,以及她那种即便已经精疲力竭,瘦骨伶仃,连自己刀叉上的食品都看不见的情况下,仍然能够挺身迎战的样子。
There she sat, outmoded in her homemade dress, bird in her lap, shit on her shoulder. Steamrolled by the world but in the face of defeat, she threatened us all.
她坐在那里,穿着她自己做的式样已经过时的衣服,膝上停着鸟,肩上落着鸟屎,这个世界已经越过她奔驰而去,但是面对失败,她仍然傲然挺立,让我们满怀敬畏。
Carnie moved back to her shoulder and buried his head into her thin hair. It occurred to me that with her voice inside of him, he would always have more of her to remember.
卡尼又到了肩膀上,把头埋在了妈妈的头发里。我突然感觉他身体里带着妈妈的声音,他比我有更多用来怀念妈妈的东西。
You don't want to keep these? I asked, giving her a second chance on a box of photographs.
你不想要这些?我问,给她第二次机会来决定要不要一盒子的照片。
My heart, she'd said. I can turn it off.
我的心已经可以休息了,妈妈说。
For years, I'd believed her.
很多年,我一直相信她。
But I know the truth now. What maniacs we are—sick with love, all of us.
但是现在我知道了真相。对于爱,我们都是偏执狂,因爱成疾。