The Last Chapter
发布时间:2017年08月01日
邓志辉 译  

The Last Chapter

末章


Their marriage was no fairy tale.

他们的婚姻绝非童话。


By Elizabeth Livingston

文/伊丽莎白·利文斯顿


“I love you, Bob.” 


“我爱你,鲍勃。”


“I love you, too, Nancy.” 


“我也爱你,南希。”


It was 2a.m. and I was hearing my parents’ voices through the thin wall separating my bedroom from theirs. Their loving reassurances were sweet, touching – and surprising.


凌晨2点,我听着父母的声音从一墙之隔的他们的卧室里传过来。他们之间爱的承诺甜蜜而触人心弦——却也颇有些令人意外。


My parents married on September 14, 1940, after a brief courtship. She was nearing 30 and knew it was time to start a family. The handsome, well-educated man who came by the office where she worked looked like a good bet. He was captivated by her figure, her blue eyes. The romance didn’t last long.


我父母于1940年9月14日结婚,之前只经历了短暂的恋爱。当时她年近30,深感已到了成家的时候,而恰好出现在她办公室的这位男士长相英俊,又受过良好教育,看上去是个很不错的选择;他则倾心于她曼妙的身姿和湛蓝的双眸。只是这份浪漫并未持久。


Seeds of difference sprouted[1] almost immediately. She liked to travel; he hated the thought. He loved golf; she did not. He was a Republican, she an ardent[2] Democrat. They fought at the bridge table, at the dinner table, over money, over the perceived failings[3] of their respective in-laws. To make matters worse, they owned a business together, and the everyday frustrations of life at the office came to roost[4] at home.


分歧的种子几乎立刻就萌芽了。她热爱旅行,他却想到旅行就厌烦;他爱打高尔夫,她却对高尔夫毫无热情;他是共和党人,她却是热心的民主党拥趸。他们开始争吵:打桥牌时吵,用餐时吵,为钱吵,为对方家人令人失望而吵。更糟糕的是,他俩还共同经营一家公司,所以工作中的种种烦恼都留待回家后统一发作了。


[1] sprout出现。

 

[2] ardent热烈的;殷切的。

 

[3] failing缺点,短处。

 

[4] roost栖息;安歇。


There was a hope that they would change once they retired, and the furious winds did calm somewhat, but what remained steeled[5] itself into bright, hard bitterness. “I always thought we’d...” my mother would begin, before launching into a precise listing of my father’s faults. The litany[6] was recited so often, I can reel it off[7] by heart today. As he listened, my father would mutter angry threats and curses. It was a miserable duet[8].


我们曾期望他们退休后会发生改变。的确——退休后,两人间的狂风暴雨有所平息,然而未曾平息的那一点余留却被淬炼成尖锐辛酸的苦怨。母亲总是会这样开头:“我一直以为咱们会……”,然后逐条列举父亲的过失。她喋喋不休的次数实在太多,时至今日我还能一口气重复出她的那些话。父亲听她唠叨时会咕哝着发出愤怒的威胁和咒骂,那真是一场折磨人的二重奏。


[5] steel使冷酷无情。

 

[6] litany冗长而枯燥的陈述。

 

[7] reel off流畅地讲;一口气说。

 

[8] duet二重奏;二重唱。


It wasn’t the happiest marriage, but as their 60th anniversary approached, my sister and I decided to throw a party. Sixty years was a long time, after all; why not try to make the best of things? We’d provide the cake, the balloons, the toasts, and they’d abide by one rule: no fighting.


虽然父母的婚姻算不上最美满,但在他们结婚60周年纪念日来临之际,我和妹妹决定举办一个庆贺聚会。毕竟,60年可不算短,何不接受现状,好好珍惜呢?我们会准备好蛋糕、气球、致辞,他们只要遵守一条规则就行:不准吵架。

The truce[9] was honored. We had a wonderful day. In hindsight it was an important celebration, because soon after, things began to change for my parents. As debilitating[10] dementia[11] settled in, their marriage was about the only thing they wouldn’t lose.


他们做到了。当天大家过得非常开心。回想起来,那次庆祝意义重大,因为之后不久,父母亲的情况开始发生变化:他们患了老年痴呆症,随着症状日益严重,婚姻关系几乎成了唯一一件他们忘不掉的事。


[9] truce停战;休战。

 

[10] debilitating使衰弱的。

 

[11] dementia痴呆。


It began when their memories started to fade. Added to the frequent house-wide hunts for glasses and car keys were the groceries left behind on the counter, notices of bills left unpaid. Soon my parents couldn’t remember names of friends, then of their grandchildren. Finally they didn’t remember that they had grandchildren.


初期时,他们的症状表现为记忆逐渐衰退。先是频繁地满屋子找眼镜、找车钥匙,然后是买东西忘拿、账单忘付;很快他们从记不得朋友的名字发展到记不得孙辈的名字;最后他们根本记不起自己有过孙子女。


These crises would have at one time set them at each other’s throats, but now they acted as a team, helping each other with searches, consoling each other with “Everyone does that” or “It’s nothing; you’re just tired.” They found new roles – bolstering[12] each other against the fear of loss.


若在以前,这类事早会让他俩对彼此怒不可遏,现在两人却仿佛一个团队:互相帮着找东西,相互安慰说“大家都这样”“没事儿,你只是有点累”。他们进入了新的角色,即:互相支持,共同对抗记忆渐失所带来的恐惧之心。


[12] bolster支持。


Financial control was the next thing to go. For all of their marriage, my parents stubbornly kept separate accounts. Sharing being unthinkable, they’d devised financial arrangements so elaborate they could trigger[13] war at any time. He, for example, was to pay for everything outside the house, she for whatever went on inside. The whopays dilemma was so complex for one trip that they finally gave up traveling entirely.


接下来,他们失去了财务管理能力。在此之前,父母一直固执地坚持各管各的钱。对他们而言,共享绝无可能,因此两人制定了一系列财务处理条例,太过精细繁琐,几乎随时可能引发一场战争。例如,条例规定父亲应负责家以外的一切开支,母亲则负责所有家内开销,结果,一旦外出旅行,“究竟该谁付什么账”的问题就变得极其复杂,后来他们只好彻底放弃了旅行。


[13] trigger引起。


I took over the books. Now no one knew how things got paid; no one saw how the columns that spelled their fortunes compared. Next I hired a housekeeper. Cooking and cleaning, chores my mother had long complained about, were suddenly gone. Finally – on doctors’ orders – we cleared the house of alcohol, the fuel that turned more than one quarrel into a raging fire.


于是由我接过了账本。现在他俩没人了解家里账单如何支付,没人见过各自名下账目有何变化。接着我雇了一个管家,负责做饭和清扫,这些是母亲多年来一直抱怨不已的家务琐事,现在一下子都不再需要她操心了。再后来,我们遵医嘱清理了家中所有藏酒——这东西曾不止一次火上浇油,将小争小吵升级为怒火万丈。


You could say my parents’ lives had been whittled away[14], that they could no longer engage in the business of living. But at the same time, something that had been buried deep was coming up and taking shape. I saw it when my father came home after a brief hospital stay.


你当然不妨说,我父母已然生命质量不再,已无力继续经营生活之道。但与此同时,以前被深埋于生活表象之下的某样东西正渐渐浮现和显形——对此我曾亲眼目睹,当时父亲经过一次短暂的住院治疗,刚刚从医院返回家中。


[14] whittle away逐渐削减。


We’d tried to explain my father’s absence to my mother, but because of her memory, she could not keep it in her head why he had disappeared. She asked again and again where he was, and again and again we told her. And each day her anxiety grew.


在那之前我们一直努力向母亲说明父亲不在家的原因,但是她衰退的记忆使她无法记住这一点,所以她一遍又一遍地反复询问他在哪,我们则一遍又一遍地向她解释,可她的焦虑还是与日俱增。


When I finally brought him home, we opened the front door to see my mother sitting on the sofa. As he stepped in the room, she rose with a cry. I stayed back as he slowly walked toward her and she toward him. As they approached each other on legs rickety[15] with age, her hands fluttered over his face. “Oh, there you are,” she said. “There you are.”


到我终于接父亲出院回家的那天,我们打开前门,看见母亲正坐在沙发上。父亲走进屋里,母亲惊呼着站了起来。我退到一边,看着父亲缓缓地向她走过去,她也向他迎过来;我看着他们迈着因年迈所致的蹒跚步履走近对方,母亲伸手摩挲父亲的脸庞,不住地说:“哦,你在这儿,你在这儿啊!”


[15] rickety不结实的;要散架的。


I don’t doubt that if my mother and father magically regained their old vigor, they’d be back fighting. But I now see that something came of all those years of shared days – days of sitting at the same table, waking to the same sun, working and raising children together. Even the very fury they lavished on each other was a brick in this unseen creation, a structure that reveals itself increasingly as the world around them falls apart.


我完全相信,倘若我父母能神奇地重获旧日活力,他们一定还会像当初一样吵架。但我现在明白,他们曾共同度过的岁月—— 一起坐在同一张桌边、醒来看见同一片朝阳、一起工作、一起抚养子女的那些岁月——已经孕育出某样东西。即便是互相之间抛洒的怨愤也是在为这个看不见的构造添砖加瓦。周遭世界在他们的感知中日渐支离破碎时,这一结构也日渐清晰地自我呈现。


In the early morning I once again heard the voices through the wall. 


清晨的时候,我再次听到墙壁那头传来声音:


“Where are we?” my father asked. 


“我们这是在哪?”父亲问。


“I don’t know,” my mother replied softly.


“我也不知道。”母亲轻柔地回答。


How lucky they are, I thought, to have each other.


我心里说,他们能这样彼此相伴,是何等幸运啊!


(译者曾获第五届“《英语世界》杯”翻译大赛一等奖)