囹圄之境
本帖最后由 下个月 于 2014-9-15 17:14 编辑Limbo
ByRhonda Lucas
My parents’ divorce was final. The house had beensold and the day had come to move. Thirty years of the family’s life was nowcrammed into the garage. The two-by-fours that ran the length of the walls werethe only uniformity among the clutter of boxes, furniture, and memories. Allwas frozen in limbo between the life just passed and the one to come.The sunlight pushing its way through the windowsplattered against a barricade of boxes. Like a fluorescent river, it streameddown the sides and flooded the cracks of the cold, cement floor. I stood in thedoorway between the house and garage and wondered if the sunlight would everagain penetrate the memories packed inside those boxes. For an instant, thecardboard boxes appeared as tombstones, monuments to those memories.The furnace in the corner, with its huge tubularfingers reaching out and disappearing into the wall, was unaware of the futilityof trying to warm the empty house. The rhythmical whir of its effort hummed theelegy for the memories boxed in front of me. I closed the door, sat down on thestep, and listened reverently. The feeling of loss transformed the bad memoriesinto not-so-bad, the not-so-bad memories into good, and committed the good onesto my mind. Still, I felt as vacant as the house inside.A workbench to my right stood disgustingly empty.Not so much as a nail had been left behind. I noticed, for the first time, whata dull, lifeless green it was. Lacking the disarray of tools that used to coverit, now it seemed as out of place as a bathtub in the kitchen. In fact, as Iscanned the room, the only things that did seem to belong were the cobwebs inthe corners.A group of boxes had been set aside from the othersand stacked in front of the workbench. Scrawled like graffiti on the walls ofdilapidated buildings were the words “Salvation Army.” Those words caught myeyes as effectively as a flashing neon sign. They reeked of irony. “Salvation -was a bit too late for this family,” I mumbled sarcastically to myself.The houseful of furniture that had once been socarefully chosen to complement and blend with the color schemes of the variousrooms was indiscriminately crammed together against a single wall. Theuncoordinated colors combined in turmoil and lashed out in the greyness of theroom.I suddenly became aware of the coldness of thegarage, but I didn’t want to go back inside the house, so I made my way throughthe boxes to the couch. I cleared a space to lie down and curled up, coveringmyself with my jacket. I hoped my father would return soon with the truck so wecould empty the garage and leave the cryptic silence of parting lives behind.
（选自Patterns: A Short ProseReader, by Mary Lou Conlin,published by Houghton Mifflin, 1983.）
囹圄之境①朗达·卢卡斯
我父母的离婚已经成了不可扭转的事实。房屋已经变卖，搬离的日子已经临近。三十年的家庭生活如今被塞进了车库。一些四英寸宽两英寸厚的方木②横钉在墙壁上，它们是那堆凌乱不堪的箱子当中唯一整齐划一的东西。一切都冻结在了刚刚过去以及即将到来的生命之间的囹圄之境里。阳光透过窗户洒向那堆箱子。如同一条莹莹发光的河流，它顺着箱子边缘往下流淌，填满了冰冷的水泥地板上的条条裂缝。我站在房屋以及车库之间的门道上，自忖着，阳光是否会再穿过尘封在那些盒子里面的记忆。一瞬之间，这些纸板箱子看起来似乎是为那些记忆而立的墓碑一般。角落里的炉子，导气管往外延伸，直插墙壁；炉子并没有意识到，要温暖这座空房的尝试是徒劳无功的。炉火有节奏的呼呼声，像是为摆在我面前的记忆低声哼起了挽歌。我把门关上，坐在楼梯上，虔诚地倾听。失落感淡化了令人心酸的记忆，接着淡化了的记忆又变成美好记忆，最后美好的记忆留在了我心底。尽管如此，我依然感到空虚怅然，如同这空荡荡的屋子。摆放在我右面的工作台空无一物，令人生厌。甚至不曾留下一枚钉子。我第一次注意到，这就如同一片相当萧索荒凉、死气沉沉的草地。没有了杂乱的器具，它现在看起来似乎不得其所，犹如放置于厨房里的浴缸。事实上，当我环眼扫视房间时，唯一看起来属于房间的只有角落上的蜘蛛网。工作台前堆放有一些箱子，与其它箱子隔离开来。荒废颓败的建筑物墙上涂写有“救世军”③的字样。这些字样如同闪闪发光的霓虹灯标志一般吸引住了我的眼球。它们散发着讽刺的意味。“救世——对于这个家庭来说已经是姗姗来迟了。”我挖苦地对自己嘟哝道。满屋子的家具，原本都是经过精心挑选来与各个房间的配色方案相补充、相结合的，现在却被任意地堆放在一堵墙边。格不相入的颜色混乱搭配着，在房间的那片灰色之中显得刺目不堪。突然之间，我意识到了车库的寒冷，但是我不想走回到房间里去，于是，我穿过这些箱子，走向睡椅。我清理出一点空间躺了下来、蜷起身子、盖上夹克。我希望父亲很快开着卡车回来，这样，我们便可清空车库，告别离别生活时那片神秘的无声无息了。
①选自玛丽·卢·康林（Mary LouConlin）的《格调：短篇散文选集》（Patterns:A Short Prose Reader）, 由霍顿·米夫林公司（HoughtonMifflin）于1983年出版。
②方木是将木材根据实际加工需要锯切成一定规格形状的方形条木，一般用于房屋装修、建筑施工中的模板支撑及屋架等，也可以用于制作各种木制家具。
③救世军（TheSalvation Army）是一个于1865年由卜维廉、卜凯瑟琳夫妇在英国伦敦成立，以军队形式作为其架构和行政方针 ，并以基督教作为信仰基本的国际性宗教及慈善公益组织，以街头布道和慈善活动、社会服务著称。其当初成立时所使用的名称是“东伦敦基督教传道部”（East London Christian Mission）。它有一个称呼，为“以爱心代替枪炮的军队”。它的创办人希望能够把基督教传给穷困的人，并透过了解穷人们物质及心灵之需要来给予帮助。
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