Integrity
正直
-FromAMotherinMannville
——节选自《妈妈住在曼菲尔》
M.K.Rawlings
M.K.罗林兹
TheOrphanageishighintheCarolinamountains. Sometimesinwinterthesnowdriftsaresodeepthattheinstitutioniscutofffromthevillagebelow,fromalltheworld. Foghidesthemountainpeaks, thesnowswirlsdownthevalleys, andawindblowssobitterlythattheorphanageboyswhotakethemilktwicedailytothebabycottagereachthedoorwithfingersstiffinanagonyofnumbness.
在卡罗来纳的山地里，有一座孤儿院坐落在高处。隆冬时节，风雪交加，有时候积雪堆得老高，将孤儿院与山下的村庄乃至整个外界完全隔断。云雾遮蔽了重重峰峦，雪花飞旋着冲人山谷。在呼啸的寒风中，孤儿院的男孩们将一份份牛奶端到育婴房去，一天得跑两趟呢。当他们走到育婴房门口的时候，手指冻得僵硬，一点儿都不听使唤了。
Iwasthereintheautumn. Iwantedquiet, isolation, todosometroublesomewriting. Iwantedmountainairtoblowoutthemalariafromtoolongatimeinthesubtropics. Iwashomesick, too, fortheflamingofmaplesinOctober,andforcornshocksandpumpkinsandblack-walnuttreesandtheliftofhills. Ifoundthemall, livinginacabinthatbelongedtotheorphanage, halfamilebeyondtheorphanagefarm. WhenItookthecabin, Iaskedforaboyormantocomeandchopwoodforthefireplace. Thefirstfewdayswerewarm, IfoundwhatwoodIneededaboutthecabin, noonecame, andIforgottheorder.
我秋天就到了那里。我需要安静，与世隔绝，好从事艰辛的创作。我需要山里的清风，把久居亚热带地区染上的疟疾吹散。我还想起家来，老惦着那十月间的枫叶似火，那一垛垛玉米秫秸，南瓜成堆，黑胡桃林子，还有隆起的山丘。我住在孤儿院的一间小屋里，距院农场有半英里，这一切尽收眼底。我住进去的时候，要求派个男孩或者男人帮我劈柴烧壁炉。头几天还算暖和，我在小屋的四周捡了点木柴，没见人来，也就把这话给忘了。
Ilookedupfrommytypewriteronelateafternoon, alittlestartled. Aboystoodatthedoor, andmypointerdog, mycompanion, wasathissideandhadnotbarkedtowarnme. Theboywasprobablytwelveyearsold, butundersized. Heworeoverallsandatornshirt, andwasbarefooted.
一天傍晚，我正在打字，猛抬头不禁吃了一惊：有个男孩站在房门口，而跟我做伴的猎狗竟在他身边默默呆着，连个招呼也没跟我打一声。这孩子大概有12岁，不过个子没那么大，他穿着一条工装裤，一件破旧的衬衣，光着两脚。
Hesaid, "Icanchopsomewoodtoday."
他说：“我今天可以劈点儿木柴。”
Isaid, "ButIhaveaboycomingfromtheorphanage."
我说：“可我请了孤儿院的孩子来劈。”
"I'mtheboy."
“我就是。”
"You? Butyou'resmall."
“是你？可你还小呢。”
"Sizedon'tmatter, choppingwood," hesaid. "Someofthebigboysdon'tchopgood. I'vebeenchoppingwoodattheorphanagealongtime."
“劈柴火可不论个头儿，”他说，“有的大孩子还劈不好呢。我在孤儿院劈了好长一阵了。”
Ivisualizedmangledandinadequatebranchesformyfires. Iwaswellintomyworkandnotinclinedtoconversation. Iwasalittleblunt."Verywell. There'stheax. Goaheadandseewhatyoucando."
我想象中出现了砍得乱七八糟的树枝子，供不上壁炉烧的。我一心在写作，没有心思搭理他，话也说得有点生硬：“好了好了，去拿斧子吧。先劈劈再看吧。”
Iwentbacktowork,closingthedoor. Atfirstthesoundoftheboydraggingbrushannoyedme. Thenhebegantochop. Theblowswererhythmicandsteady, andshortlyIhadforgottenhim, thesoundnomoreofaninterruptionthanaconsistentrain. Isupposeanhourandahalfpassed, forwhenIstoppedandstretched, andheardtheboy'sstepsonthecabinstoop, thesunwasdroppingbehindthefarthestmountain, andthevalleyswerepurplewithsomethingdeeperthantheasters.
我关上门，继续写作。起先听他拽木头，闹得我心烦。后来他动手劈柴了。他劈得错落有致，不紧不慢，我很快就把他忘了，那斧声就跟一场绵绵细雨似的对我全无干扰。我估计他劈了有一个半小时吧，因为这时我歇下来舒展一下身子，听见他正走上门口的台阶，夕阳已渐渐沉没在远山的背后，壑谷间一片紫霭，颜色比翠菊还浓。
Theboysaid, "Ihavetogotosuppernow. Icancomeagaintomorrowevening."
这孩子说道：“我得去吃晚饭了。我明晚再来。”
Isaid, "I'llpayyounowforwhatyou'vedone," thinkingIshouldprobablyhavetoinsistonanolderboy. "Tencentsanhour'?"
我说：“我这就把你的工钱结了吧，”心想恐怕还得换个大孩子来，“一小时算一毛？”
"Anythingisallright."
“怎么都行。”
Wewenttogetherbackofthecabin. Anastonishingamountofsolidwoodhadbeencut. Therewerecherrylogsandheavyrootsofrhododendron, andblocksfromthewastepineandoakleftfromthebuildingofthecabin.
我们一起来到屋后。只见满地都是劈好了的结结实实的木柴，简直令人咂舌。其中有樱桃树的圆木干和杜鹃灌木的粗根，就连盖小屋剩下的废松木和废栎木，也都劈成了大块的木柴。
"Butyou'vedoneasmuchasaman," Isaid. "Thisisasplendidpile."
“你可是跟大人劈得一样多了，”我说，“瞧这么大一堆，太好了。”
Ilookedathim, actually, forthefirsttime. Hishairwasthecolorofthecornshocks, andhiseyes, verydirect, werelikethemountainskywhenrainispending-gray, withashadowingofthatmiraculousblue. AsIspokealightcameoverhim, asthoughthesettingsunhadtouchedhimwiththesamesuffusedglorywithwhichittouchedthemountains. Igavehimaquarter.
我端详着他，说真的，这还是头一回。他的头发呈玉米秫秸的颜色，两眼里一片率真，像是山雨欲来的天空——灰暗中透出那奇异的天蓝。我正说着，忽见他周身一片光亮，仿佛落日那洒满群山的余辉也洒到了他身上。我给了他一枚两角五分的硬币。
"Youmaycometomorrow," Isaid, "andthankyouverymuch."Helookedatme, andatthecoin, andseemedtowanttospeak, butcouldnot, andturnedaway.
“你明天来吧，”我说，“多谢你了。”他看看我，又看看硬币，好像要说什么，可又说不出来，就转身离去。
"I'llsplitkindlingtomorrow," hesaidoverhisthinraggedshoulder. "You'llneedkindlingandmediumwoodandlogsandbacklogs."
“明天我劈引火柴，”他回过头来又说，衬衣的肩部都磨薄磨破了，“点火柴，引火柴，原木，垫底的，你都用得着。”
AtdaylightIwashalfwakenedbythesoundofchopping. AgainitwassoevenintexturethatIwentbacktosleep. WhenIleftmybedinthecoolmorning, theboyhadcomeandgone, andastackofkindlingwasneatagainstthecabinwall. Hecameagainafterschoolintheafternoonandworkeduntiltimetoreturntotheorphanage. HisnamewasJerry; hewastwelveyearsold, andhehadbeenattheorphanagesincehewasfour. Icouldpicturehimatfour, withthesamegravegray-blueeyesandthesame-independence? No, thewordthatcomestomeis "integrity."
第二天黎明时分，一阵劈柴声搅得我似醒非醒。那拍子依然不紧不慢，又把我带回梦乡。我早上起床，天很凉，这孩子来过又走了，只见一堆引火柴整整齐齐码在墙边。他下午放学后又来了，一口气干到该回孤儿院了才歇手。他叫杰里，12岁了，从四岁起就呆在孤儿院。我可以想象他四岁的样子，也是这双郑重其事的灰蓝色眼睛，也是这份自立？不，我想到的词儿是“正直”。
Thewordmeanssomethingveryspecialtome, andthequalityforwhichIuseitisarareone. Myfatherhadit-thereisanotherofwhomIamalmostsure-butalmostnomanofmyacquaintancepossessesitwiththeclarity,thepurity, thesimplicityofamountainstream. ButtheboyJerryhadit. Itisbedded-oncourage, butitismorethanbrave. Itishonest, butitismorethanhonesty. Theaxhandlebrokeoneday. Jerrysaidthewoodshopattheorphanagewouldrepairit. Ibroughtmoneytopayforthejobandherefusedit.
这个词对我有特殊的含义，我用它来说明一种难得的品格。我父亲就有这种品格——我相信还有别人，但是在我的相识中几乎没有一个人像一泓山泉那般清澈、纯洁和朴素地具备这种品格。然而杰里这孩子就有。他的正直植根于勇气，但又超出勇敢。它是诚实，但又超出诚实。有一天，斧把断了。杰里说孤儿院的木工房给修。我掏出修理费，他不肯收。
"I'llpayforit," hesaid. "Ibrokeit. Ibroughttheaxdowncareless."
“这钱该我出，”他说，“我弄断的。我砍得不小心。”
"Butnoonehitsaccuratelyeverytime," Itoldhim. "Thefaultwasinthewoodofthehandle. I'llseethemanfromwhomIboughtit.
“可谁都有个闪失的时候，”我对他说，“都怪木把不结实。我找卖斧子的去。”
"Itwasonlythenthathewouldtakethemoney. Hewasstandingbackofhisowncarelessness . Hewasafree-willagentandhechosetodocarefulwork, andifhefailed, hetooktheresponsibilitywithoutsubterfuge.
他这才肯把钱收下。他对自己的疏忽毫不遮掩。他是个自有主意的人，干活就要认真干好，没干好，他就承担责任，决不借故推诿。
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