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属类: 双语小说 【分类】世界名著 -[作者: 凯斯-唐纳胡] 阅读:[13525]
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尸体虽然在水里泡了一天,但还是被确认为小奥斯卡·拉甫。

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遮布拉开,露出的溺水者肿胀的样子相当骇人。毫无疑问是他,虽然我们都没法凑上前去细看。若不是这具浸水的尸体上缠绕着的奇怪编网,也许大家会以为这只是一场悲惨的意外事故。他会在一块好地的两米深处安息,而他的父母会独自悲伤。但他们一把他打捞出来,就有了怀疑。尸体被运送到十二公里外的太平间去做验尸和查讯。验尸官查找死因,但结果出人意料。他外表完全是个小男孩,但解剖开来时,医生却发现是个老人。这件怪事没有见诸报端,但后来奥斯卡告诉我,体内器官都已萎缩,心脏有了坏疽,肺、肝、脾都已脱水,而大脑则是一个行将就木的百岁老翁的模样。

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这一发现浸透了诡异和悲伤的气氛,而吉米·卡明斯也失踪了。

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那晚他和其他搜寻人员进入森林,但没有回来。吉米没来医院时,我们还都以为他先回家了,或者另找了条路出山,但到了第二天晚上,乔治开始担心了。第三天,我们几个都为吉米焦急不安,想方设法打探消息。我们打算如果天气好的话,当天傍晚就去森林。但正当我坐下来和家人用餐时,餐厅的电话铃响了。伊丽莎白和玛丽都从座位上跳起来,希望是来找她们的男孩,但母亲命她们坐下。

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“我不喜欢你们的朋友在吃饭时打电话来。”妈妈提起墙上电话的话筒,刚说了句“你好”,她的脸就变成了一块调色板,惊喜、震愕、怀疑诧异无不齐备。她半转过身继续说完话,我们都看着她的后脑勺。她用左手挂断电话,右手当胸划了个十字,回过身来告诉我们这个消息。

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“真是奇迹。是奥斯卡·拉甫。吉米·卡明斯没事,他找到他还活着。”

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妹妹们嘴里的食物吃到一半停了下来,叉子悬在半空中,两眼瞪着她。我让母亲再把话说一遍,她又说了一遍,意识到自己说的意思。

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“他们一起走出了森林。他活着。他在洞里找到了他。小奥斯卡·拉甫。”

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伊丽莎白的叉子落了下去,“咔嗒”一声掉在餐盘上。

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“你在开玩笑吧。活着? ”玛丽说。

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“太刺激了。”伊丽莎白说。

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妈妈心不在焉地拨弄着额角上的发夹,站在椅子后面寻思。

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“他不是死了吗? ”我问道。

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“嗯……一定是哪里出了错。”

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“这是个超级大错,妈。”玛丽说。

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伊丽莎白直愣愣地问了一个我们都在想的问题,“那么太平间里的那个是谁? ”

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玛丽问她的双胞胎姐姐,“难道还有另一个奥斯卡·拉甫? 这可太酷了。”

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母亲重重地坐到椅子里。她盯着一盘烤鸡,浑然不觉地想着,把她所能理解的真实和刚刚听到的事情联系起来。双胞胎大搞竞猜,她们的假想都荒谬不堪。我紧张得吃不下饭,只好走到门廊处吸烟,思索起来。吸到第二支“骆驼”时,我听到一辆车开来。樱红色的福特驶上马路,开进我们的车道,在砾石地面上减速停下。

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双胞胎冲到门廊上来,纱门“砰砰”关了两下。卡明斯从车里出来了,他把头发往后扎成一把,鼻梁上架着一副玫瑰红的眼镜,两个手指摇晃着V 字形,咧嘴笑开了。

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玛丽和伊丽莎白娴雅地和他打过招呼,羞答答地朝他微笑。吉米大步跨过院子,两下跳上门廊阶梯,站到我面前,等着我像欢迎英雄似的欢迎他。我们握了手。

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“祝贺你大难不死,伙计。”

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“伙计,你已经知道了? 你听说了新闻? ”他两眼充血,我不知道他是喝多了还是累坏了。

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妈妈从门口冲出来,朝我朋友张开双臂,大力拥抱他,把他弄了个大红脸。我的妹妹们矜持不下去了,她们也加入进来,差点用她们的激情把他给扑倒了。我站在一边,看着她们一个个从他身上剥下来。

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“把事情全告诉我们,”母亲说,“你要喝点什么吗? 我给你倒杯冰茶。”

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她在厨房里忙的时候,我们都各自坐在了藤椅上。吉米不知该选哪个妹妹才好,只好坐在长靠椅上,双胞胎并肩坐在门廊的秋千上。我靠在栏杆上,妈妈回来后,就坐到吉米身边,朝他微笑,好像他是她儿子一样。

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“戴夫人,您有没有见过死而复生的人? ”

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“哦,仁慈的天神和天使保佑我们吧。”

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“拉甫夫妇看到他时也这么想,”吉米说,“好像奥斯卡是从天堂掉下来的,或者被地狱里的风刮了出来。他们没法相信亲眼看到的事。因为他们都已经准备把遗体送去殡仪馆了,想小奥斯卡死了,就下葬吧。我拉着他们儿子的手进去时,路易斯看起来像是得了心脏病,伙计,莉蓓走过来说:‘你是真的吗? 我能摸摸你吗?你是什么?能和我说话吗? ’那孩子冲她跑过去,搂住她的腰,她就知道他不是鬼魂。”

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两个一模一样的人,一个死了,另一个活着——换生灵和孩子。

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“所有的医生和护士都吓坏了。说到护士,亨利,有个护士说她那晚见过你,就是他们把另一个男孩打捞上来的那晚。”

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没有另一个男孩。

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“路易斯开始摇我的手,莉蓓把‘上帝保佑你’讲了至少一千遍。

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还有奥斯卡,那个大奥斯卡,几分钟后进来了,他看到侄子后的反应也是这么一个过程,那伙计也很高兴见到我。那些问题都飞过来了,当然我已经把整件事跟消防队员和警察说了一遍。他们把我们送到医院,因为他已经在那里待了三天。他们差不多是说不出这孩子身体有什么问题。就是时间拖得有点长,好像他出去远足旅游了一样,我们都累坏了,又脏又渴。”

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一场猛烈的暴风雨压黑了西天。森林中,动物们会纷纷寻找地方躲雨。妖怪们在他们古老的营寨下面挖了地洞,迷宫般的地道能让他们躲避恶劣天气。

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“但你应该知道这件事,伙计,所以我开了车直接来这儿了。”

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他一口喝下了冰茶,母亲又立刻给他倒了一杯。她和我们几个一样,急着等故事开头。我在想,他的故事会不会把暴风雨都打败呢? 她忍无可忍地问道:“那么,你是怎么找到小奥斯卡的? ”

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“嗨,亨利,我不是告诉过你我看到那个护士泰思·伍德郝斯了吗? 兄弟,你应该给她打个电话。那天晚上,我一心寻找孩子,后来忘了时间。我的表停在了七点半。我可吓坏了,因为那时候一定已经九点多了。不是我相信鬼啊什么的,但四周黑洞洞的。”

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我看了看表,望了望逼近的暴风雨,想要算出它的速度。如果雨打下来,他们还有一两个还在营寨外,就只能找个山洞或树洞避过风头。

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“我迷路迷得厉害,那时只想找到自己的路回去。我走到了一块林中空地,星光下显得怪怪的。草丛和树叶里有压平的地方,有点像鹿在那里躺过似的。接着我看见沿着空地一圈,有一些平整的椭圆形,我想是有一群动物在那里过夜,对吧? ”

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在晴朗的夏夜,我们睡在地面上。每天早晨我们都会研究天象,看看是否会变天。吉米停下来歇口气,我觉得自己又听见了河中石头的乐音。

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“那里有一圈灰烬,还有篝火烧过的枝条,是某些他妈的猎人或背包客留下的,如果我要在森林里过夜,那里也许是个好地方,因为显然已经有人住过了。我生了一小堆火,火光让我打起瞌睡来,我知道后来我就睡着了。做怪梦,幻觉,糟糕的迷幻药。远远的有个声音,一个小男孩在叫着‘妈妈’,但我看不到他,我累得不想起来。这种梦你也做过,你会觉得闹钟在梦里响起来,但实际上是在你床边响起来对吗? 你以为那还是在梦里,就不肯起来关闹钟,然后就睡过头了,后来你醒来时就想起来你做过一个闹钟的梦,对吧? ”

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“我想我每天早上都做这样的梦。”玛丽说。

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“就这意思。我看不见他,但我能听见小奥斯卡哭着喊妈妈,于是我开始找他。

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‘奥斯卡? 你妈妈和爸爸让我来找你。’他就叫起来,‘我在下面! ’在哪下面?

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我看不见他,他在哪下面呢? ‘不停地叫我名字’……我试着去找他的声音。接着我掉到了该死的洞里。有人把枝叶和别的东西放在入口上,像个陷阱一样,我就压穿枝叶掉了下去。我肩膀以上卡在洞外,那时候是半夜三更,孩子在旁边快把眼睛都哭瞎了。情况太糟了,伙计,太糟了。”

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女孩们停下了秋千。母亲身体往前靠。我忘了逼过来的暴风雨,满心想着捉摸不定的曲调,但连它也沉陷到了谈话的沼泽地里。

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“我陷在里面了,伙计。我的胳膊卡在洞边。更要命的是,我的脚够不到洞底,只是晃在那里,晃在一个无底洞的上头。说不定底下有什么东西想要捉我。”他朝女孩们作势一扑,她们尖叫起来,咯咯直笑。

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“我待在那里,思考我的处境。戴夫人,我大声叫小奥斯卡别再扯嗓子了,因为他让我心烦意乱。我说:‘我卡在洞里了。但我一有办法出去,就会立刻把你弄出来。’他说他觉得这是一个地道。我让他四处爬动一下,看看是不是会见到一双大脚悬在半空中,那是我的脚,他能否帮我出去? ”

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远处传来隆隆的雷声。我跳下门廊,跑出去摇上他的车窗。妖怪们会胳膊大腿地抱在一起,害怕突如其来的闪电。歌声又从我头脑中溜走了。

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“到了早晨,我看清我在什么地方了,但还是卡在洞里,我朝左侧挤了挤,扭转身子掉了下去。原来我离洞底只有半米不到。但我双脚发麻,胳膊也痛,我得撒一泡尿——戴夫人,原谅我讲粗话。我累得要命,但那孩子……”

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一声炸雷,我们都跳将起来,接着一道闪电布满天空。空气里有股电的气味,暴雨就要来了。最初的大雨点像硬币似的,敲打着地面,我们迅速躲进屋里。卡明斯坐在沙发中间,一边一个坐着玛丽和伊丽莎白,妈妈和我坐在安乐椅上。

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“在洞底,”吉米继续滔滔不绝,“地道有三个方向。我向每个方向都喊了话,但没有回音。我开始想奥斯卡会不会在哪条通道的另一头呢? 还是这整桩事情都是我在做梦呢? 你真该看看这些地道,伙计,不可思议地酷啊。上帝才知道是谁或者什么东西建造了它们,又是为了什么目的才造的。你爬在里面,它们可真够小的,像是小孩子造的。你贴着地面像蛇一样地爬,爬到另一头就是一个房间,有的房间稍大些,可以让我蹲起来。在每个房间里又有更多的通道。我简直觉得像是看到了电视里克劳凯特①报道的场面。就像越战营。

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说不定就是一个越战营? ”

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“你真的觉得,”我问,“越共会侵略美国,还会在不知道哪里的地方搭营建寨? ”

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“不,伙计。你以为我疯了吗? 说不定那个地方是他们用来训练我们的人,去地道里寻找他们的人? 像个蜂窝一样。一个他妈的迷宫。我来来回回,不想走迷路,但突然我意识到我整天都没听到奥斯卡的声音。我正在想他会不会死了,他就像只鼹鼠一样地爬过来抬起脑袋。问题是——我起先没有注意到他是因为他满身泥土尘灰——他就像个傻瓜似的什么都没穿。”

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“他的衣服怎么了? ”妈妈问。

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换生灵扒光了他,把他裹入一张蜘蛛网里,再把身体扔进河里变成他们的一员。

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这就是他们认为自己在做的事。

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“戴夫人,我毫无头绪。我们第一件事就是到地面上去,他让我看这些洞壁上都凿着拉手和踩脚的地方。我先前倒没有注意,他就像爬楼梯一样登了上去。”

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我花了大半个月凿这些拉手,我几乎能想起那个不停挖洞的妖怪的样子。

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“我找到他时天已经晚了,孩子又累又饿,我们没法从森林里出来。我肯定大家都还在找我们。于是我们就坐在那里想下一步怎么办,他问我是不是饿了。他走到空地边上,卷起一块脏兮兮的毯子,下面藏满了食物。就像他妈的林子中间有个杂货铺。豌豆、梨子、苹果酱、烤豆、一袋糖、一盒盐、干蘑菇、葡萄干、苹果。

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像是找到了一个埋藏的宝藏。”

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我从窗外望去,暴风雨减弱了。他们去哪里了呢? “我在弄饭时,奥斯卡开始在这个营寨边上东翻西找,我在想办法把罐头打开。这孩子回来时穿着那些很帅的老式短裤,像荷兰移民来的纽约人一样,还有一条邋遢的白套衫。他说他找到了一大堆东西。你没法相信那里有些什么东西——衣服、鞋子、手套、帽子、棒球手套。

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我们把这些垃圾翻了出来——纽扣,一革袋的可卡因大麻——不好意思,戴夫人——一张摇滚乐唱片,还有旧纸牌,上面写着字的报纸,像是有个小孩在上面学写ABc。

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有人收藏了一卷绳子,一把梳子,一把生锈的剪刀。他妈的装拼起来的娃娃。就像那里有个妈咪一样,伙计。我告诉警察后,他们说会去调查一下,因为他们不想让我们镇子附近有这种人待着。”

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“我也要说这样不行。”我母亲抿着嘴唇。

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伊丽莎白朝她喊:“和大自然交流有什么不对? ”

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“我没说到大自然什么的。”

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“不管住在那里的是什么人,”吉米继续说,“我们去的时候已经走了,因为他们都不在,伙计。晚饭时,奥斯卡告诉我他是怎样在林子中间的地洞里,又怎样衣服扒得精光。那群孩子假扮成海盗绑架了他,把他绑在一棵树上。一个男孩戴了个面具,跟他一模一样,还叫他跳到洞里去。他脱光了衣服,又让奥斯卡也脱光。

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我都听呆了,那个孩子让奥斯卡忘了发生的一切,他爬了出去,在地道口盖了盖子。”

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他没有把换生进行到底。我在想他是谁。

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“所有的孩子都逃跑了,只剩下一个女孩,她说能帮他回家。但她一听见狗叫,也逃跑了。到了早上,没有人来找他,他害怕极了,简直要发疯,那时候他听到了我的声音。我一个字也不相信,但这确实能解释很多事情。比如孩子的旧衣服。”

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“还有他们在河里找到的男孩。”妈妈说。

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“也许那就是他以为自己看到的那个,”伊丽莎白说,“也许那个男孩和他有几分像,所以奥斯卡以为他戴了面具。”

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玛丽提出了自己的理论,“可能那就是和他一模一样的那个。爸爸以前说过,每个人都有这样一个。”

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妈妈用一句话结束了话题:“我听着像仙灵。”

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他们都笑了,但我知道是怎么回事。我把额头靠在冷冷的窗玻璃上,在景色中搜寻那些我曾经想要忘记的身影。院子里水坑中的积水正在慢慢渗到土里去。

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Despite being underwater for a day, the body was identified as that of young Oscar Love. The sheet pulled back, the shocking bloat of the drowned, and sure enough, it was him, although the truth is, none of us could bear to look closely. Had it not been for the strange netting around the waterlogged corpse, maybe no one would have thought it anything other than a tragic accident. He would have been laid to rest under two yards of good earth, and his parents left to their private grief. But suspicions were raised from the moment that they gaffed him from the river. The corpse was transported twelve miles to the county morgue for a proper autopsy and inquest. The coroners searched for cause but found only strange effects. To all outward appearance he was a young boy, but when they cut him open, the doctors discovered an old man. The weirdness never made the papers, but Oscar later told me about the atrophied internal organs, the necrosis of the heart, the dehydrated lungs, liver, kidneys, spleen, and brain of a death-defying centenarian.

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The strangeness and sorrow surrounding this discovery were compounded by the vanishing act of Jimmy Cummings. With the rest of the searchers, he had gone into the woods that night but had not returned. When Jimmy did not show up at the hospital, we all assumed he had gone home early or found another exit, and not until the next evening did George begin to worry. By the third day, the rest of us were all anxious about Jimmy, desperate for any news. We planned to go back to the woods that evening if the weather held, but just as I sat down with my family for dinner, the phone rang in the kitchen. Elizabeth and Mary both sprang from their chairs, hoping a boy might be trying to reach them, but my mother ordered them to sit.

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"I don’t like your friends calling in the middle of meals." Mom picked up the receiver from its cradle on the wall, and after she said hello, her face was a palette of surprise, shock, disbelief, and amazement. She half turned to finish her discussion, leaving us to stare at the back of her head. As she hung up the phone with her left hand, she crossed herself with her right, then turned to share the news.

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"It’s a miracle. That was Oscar Love. Jimmy Cummings is okay, and he found him alive."

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My sisters stopped mid-bite, their forks suspended in the air, and stared at her. I asked my mother to repeat the message, and in so doing, she realized the implications of her sentences.

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"They walked out of the woods together. He’s alive. He found him in a hole. Little Oscar Love."

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Elizabeth’s fork fell and clattered on the plate.

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"You’re kidding. Alive?" Mary said.

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"Far out," said Elizabeth.

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Distracted, Mom fretted with the bobby pins at her temples. She stood behind her chair, thinking.

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"Isn’t he dead?" I asked.

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"Well ... there must be a mistake."

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"That’s a helluva mistake, Mom," Mary said.

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Elizabeth asked the not-so-rhetorical question we were all wondering about. "So who’s that in the morgue?"

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Mary asked her twin, "There’s another Oscar Love? That’s so cool."

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My mother sat hard in the chair. Staring at the plate of fried chicken, she seemed lost in abstraction, reconciling what she knew to be true with what she had just heard. The twins one-upped each other with hypotheses too absurd to believe. Too nervous to eat, I retired to the porch for a smoke and contemplation. On my second Camel, I heard the noise of an approaching car. A cherry red Mustang veered off the road and barreled up our drive, kicking up gravel and fishtailing to a stop. The twins rushed out to the porch, the screen door slapping shut twice, before Cummings got out of the car. Hair pulled back into a ponytail, a pair of rose-colored glasses perched on his nose, he flashed the two-finger V and broke into a broad grin. Mary and Elizabeth greeted him with their own peace signs and smiled coyly back at him. Jimmy loped across the yard, took the porch stairs in two bounds, and stood directly in front of me, expecting a hero’s welcome. We shook hands.

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"Welcome back from the dead, man."

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"Man, you know already? Have you heard the news?" His eyes were bloodshot, and I could not tell if he was drunk or stoned or just worn-out.

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Mom burst through the door and threw her arms around my friend, bear-hugging him until his face turned red. Not able to restrain themselves a moment longer, my sisters joined in, nearly tackling him in their enthusiasm. I watched them unpeel one by one.

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"Tell us all about it," my mother said. "Would you like a drink? Let me get you an iced tea."

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While she busied herself in the kitchen, we arranged ourselves on the rattan. Unable to decide upon a sister, Jimmy slumped onto the settee, and the twins bunched together on the porch swing. I kept my post at the railing, and when she returned, Mom sat beside Jimmy, beaming at him as if he were her own son.

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"Have you ever seen anyone come back from the dead, Mrs. Day?"

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"Oh, angels and ministers of grace defend us."

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"That’s what the Loves thought when they saw him," Jimmy said. "As if Oscar might have come from the airs of heaven, or been blasted out of hell. They couldn’t believe what their own eyes were telling them. ’Cause they were all set to take the body to the funeral home, thinking Little Oscar was dread and fit to be buried, when I come in with their son, holding his hand, Lewis looked as if he was having a heart attack, man, and Libby walked up and said, ’Are you real? Can I touch you? What are you? Can you speak to me?’ And the boy ran to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, and she knew he was no ghost."

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Two identical beings, one dead, the other living—the changeling and the child.

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"All the doctors and nurses freaked out, too. Speaking of nurses, Henry, there’s a nurse there who said she saw you the other night when they brought up that other boy."

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That was no boy.

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"Lew starts shaking my hand, and Libby says ’Bless you’ about a thousand times. And Oscar, big Oscar, came in a few minutes later, then he goes through the whole routine with his nephew, and man, is he glad to see me, too. The questions start flying, and of course I already told the whole story to the firemen and the cops. They brought us to the hospital on account of him being out there for three days. Near as they can tell, there isn’t a thing wrong with the boy. A little strung out, like he’d been tripping, and we were pretty tired and dirty and thirsty."

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A big storm darkened in the western skies. In the forest, the creatures would be scrambling for cover. The hobgoblins had created an underground warren in their ancient campsite, a maze of tunnels that sheltered them from the rough weather.

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"But you had to know, man, so I got in my ride and drove right over here."

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He drank his iced tea in a single gulp, and my mother refilled his glass at once. She, like the rest of us, grew anxious for the beginning, and I was wondering if his story would beat the rain. No longer able to wait, she asked, "So, how did you find little Oscar?"

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"Hey, Henry, did I tell you that I saw that nurse, Tess Wodehouse? You should give her a call, bro. That night, I got so caught up looking for that kid that I lost track of the time. My watch stopped dead around half past seven. Which freaked me out because it must have been after nine. Not that I believe in ghosts or anything like that, just that it was dark."

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I checked my watch and studied the approaching storm, trying to calculate its tempo. If one or two of them were away from camp when the rain hit, they would have to look for a cave or a hollow tree to wait out the worst.

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"So I was really, really lost. And at that point, I’m concerned about finding my own way out. I come to this clearing in the woods, and it’s starlit and spooky. There’s these mooshed-down places in the grass and leaves, like maybe deer bed down there. Then I see these flat ovals in a ring around the edges of the clearing, and I figure this is where a herd sleeps for the night, right?"

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On fair summer nights, we slept above ground. We read the skies each morning for any hint of foul weather. As Jimmy paused for a breath, I thought I heard the notes from the stones in the river again.

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"There’s this circle of ashes and burnt sticks from a campfire that some freakin’ hunters or backpackers left, and if I have to stay the night in the woods, this might be a good place since, obviously, someone had stayed here before. I made myself a small fire, and the flames hypnotize me, for next thing I know, I’m asleep and having the strangest dreams. Hallucinations. Bad acid. A voice from far away, a little boy calling and calling ’Mama,’ but I can’t see him, and I’m too tired to get up. You ever have one of those dreams where you think your alarm clock is going off in your dream, but it’s really going off beside your bed? Only you think it’s just a dream, so you don’t get up to shut if off, then you oversleep, and then you remember when you do get up that you had a dream about it ringing?"

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"I think I have that dream every morning," said Mary.

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"Dig it. I can’t see him, but I can hear little Oscar crying out for his mama, so I start looking for him. ’Oscar? Your mama and daddy sent me here to find you.’ So he starts calling out, ’I’m under here!’ Under where? I can’t see him, and what he’s under? ’Keep calling me’ ... and I try to follow the sound of his voice. That’s when I fall into the freakin’ hole. Crashing right through branches and stuff that someone had laid over the opening like it’s a trap. I’m struck in this hole up to my armpits in the dead dark of night with the boy crying his eyes out nearby. A bad scene, man, a bad scene."

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The girls stopped swinging. My mother leaned forward. I forgot about the gathering storm and concentrated on the elusive melody, but it receded in the swale of talk.

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"I was jammed inside, man. My arms are trapped up against the sides of the hole. Worse is, my feet aren’t on the bottom of the pit, but dangling there, at the top of a bottomless pit. Or maybe something’s down at the bottom, going to get me." He lunged out at the girls, who screamed and giggled.

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We jumped at a loud boom of thunder and a wraith of light that filled the horizon. The air smelled of electricity and the coming deluge. When tto first fat drops lashed the ground like coins, we scurried inside. Cummings sat between Mary and Elizabeth on the sofa, and Mom and I perched in the uncomfortable chairs.

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"At the bottom of this hole," Jimmy continued over the rumbling, "tunnels in three different directions. I shouted down each one, but no reply. I was beginning to wonder whether Oscar was at the other end of any one of them or did I dream up the whole thing. You should see these tunnels, man, unbelievably cool. Lord knows who or what made them. Or why. As you crawl along, they get real skinny, like maybe kids made them. You snake on your belly until you come to the end and another chamber, sometimes big enough where even I could squat. And at each of the chambers, there were more tunnels. It just now occurs to me that I saw something like this on TV with Cronkite. Like the VC. Maybe it’s a Vietnamese camp?"

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