抓香蕉鱼的最佳日子

There were ninety-seven New York advertising men in the hotel, and, the way they were monopolizing the long-distance lines, the girl in 507 had to wait from noon till almost two-thirty to get her call through. She used the time, though. She read an article in a women’s pocket-size magazine, called “Sex Is Fun—or Hell.” She washed her comb and brush. She took the spot out of the skirt of her beige suit. She moved the button on her Saks blouse. She tweezed out two freshly surfaced hairs in her mole. When the operator finally rang her room, she was sitting on the window seat and had almost finished putting lacquer on the nails of her left hand.

旅馆里住着九十七个纽约广告人，长途电话线全被他们占着，507 房间的姑娘从中午一直等到快两点半，才把电话打通。不过这段时间她也没闲着。她读了一本女性口袋杂志上的一篇文章，题目叫《性是件乐事——还是件苦事》。她洗了梳子和刷子。她把米色套装裙子上的一块污渍弄掉了。她把萨克斯百货买的衬衫上的扣子挪了个位置。她把痣上新冒出来的两根毛拔掉了。接线员总算把电话接进房间的时候，她正坐在窗座上，左手的指甲差不多快涂完指甲油了。

She was a girl who for a ringing phone dropped exactly nothing. She looked as if her phone had been ringing continually ever since she had reached puberty.

她是那种电话铃响了也绝不会手忙脚乱丢下什么的姑娘。看她那样子，仿佛自打进入青春期起，电话铃就没断过。

With her little lacquer brush, while the phone rang, she went over the nail of her little finger, accentuating the line of the moon. She then replaced the cap on the bottle of lacquer and, standing up, passed her left—the wet—hand back and forth through the air. With her dry hand, she picked up a congested ashtray from the window seat and carried it with her over to the night table, on which the phone stood. She sat down on one of the made-up twin beds and—it was the fifth or sixth ring—picked up the phone.

电话响着的时候，她用那把小指甲油刷子又描了描小拇指的指甲，把月牙那道线描得更清楚。然后她把指甲油瓶盖上，站起身，把左手——那只湿的手——在空中来回摇晃着。腾出来的那只干手，从窗座上端起一个塞满烟头的烟灰缸，端到放电话的床头柜上。她在一张铺得整整齐齐的双人床上坐下——电话响到第五还是第六声——才拿起听筒。

“Hello,” she said, keeping the fingers of her left hand outstretched and away from her white silk dressing gown, which was all that she was wearing, except mules—her rings were in the bathroom.

“喂，”她说，左手的手指仍旧张开着，离她身上那件白色真丝晨衣远远的——她身上除了这件晨衣，就只穿了双拖鞋，戒指都放在浴室里。

“I have your call to New York now, Mrs. Glass,” the operator said.

“格拉斯太太，您要的纽约的电话接通了。”接线员说。

“Thank you,” said the girl, and made room on the night table for the ashtray.

“谢谢。”姑娘说着，在床头柜上给烟灰缸腾出一块地方。

A woman’s voice came through. “Muriel? Is that you?”

一个女人的声音传了过来。“穆丽尔？是你吗？”

The girl turned the receiver slightly away from her ear. “Yes, Mother. How are you?” she said.

姑娘把听筒稍微移开耳朵一点。“是我，妈。您好吗？”她说。

“I’ve been worried to death about you. Why haven’t you phoned? Are you all right?”

“我都要担心死了。你怎么不打电话？你没事吧？”

“I tried to get you last night and the night before. The phone here’s been—”

“我昨晚和前晚都想打给您来着。这儿的电话一直——”

“Are you all right, Muriel?”

“你没事吧，穆丽尔？”

The girl increased the angle between the receiver and her ear. “I’m fine. I’m hot. This is the hottest day they’ve had in Florida in—”

姑娘把听筒和耳朵之间的角度又拉开了一些。“我没事。就是热。这是佛罗里达这些年来最热的一天了——”

“Why haven’t you called me? I’ve been worried to—”

“你怎么不给我打电话？我都担心得——”

“Mother, darling, don’t yell at me. I can hear you beautifully,” said the girl. “I called you twice last night. Once just after—”

“妈，亲爱的，别冲我嚷嚷。我听得清清楚楚的。”姑娘说。“我昨晚给您打了两次。一次是刚——”

“I told your father you’d probably call last night. But, no, he had to—Are you all right, Muriel? Tell me the truth.”

“我跟你爸说了你昨晚大概会打来。可他偏不信——你到底没事吧，穆丽尔？跟我说实话。”

“I’m fine. Stop asking me that, please.”

“我没事。求您别老这么问了。”

“When did you get there?”

“你们什么时候到的？”

“I don’t know. Wednesday morning, early.”

“我不知道。星期三一大早吧。”

“Who drove?”

“谁开的车？”

“He did,” said the girl. “And don’t get excited. He drove very nicely. I was amazed.”

“他开的。”姑娘说。“您先别激动。他开得很稳当，我都惊讶了。”

“He drove? Muriel, you gave me your word of—”

“他开的车？穆丽尔，你可是保证过——”

“Mother,” the girl interrupted, “I just told you. He drove very nicely. Under fifty the whole way, as a matter of fact.”

“妈，”姑娘打断她，“我刚才说了。他开得很稳，全程时速没超过五十英里。”

“Did he try any of that funny business with the trees?”

“他有没有对着树玩那种怪把戏？”

“I said he drove very nicely, Mother. Now, please. I asked him to stay close to the white line, and all, and he knew what I meant, and he did. He was even trying not to look at the trees—you could tell. Did Daddy get the car fixed, incidentally?”

“我说了他开得很稳，妈。求您了。我让他贴着白线开，他懂我的意思，也照做了。他甚至都努力不去看那些树——看得出来。对了，爸把车修好了吗？”

“Not yet. They want four hundred dollars, just to—”

“还没。光是——他们就要四百块——”

“Mother, Seymour told Daddy that he’d pay for it. There’s no reason for—”

“妈，西摩跟爸说了他会出这笔钱。没道理——”

“Well, we’ll see. How did he behave—in the car and all?”

“这个再说吧。他表现怎么样——在车里什么的？”

“All right,” said the girl.

“挺好的。”姑娘说。

“Did he keep calling you that awful—”

“他还老那么叫你吗，那个可怕的——”

“No. He has something new now.”

“没有。他现在换了个新的。”

“What?”

“什么？”

“Oh, what’s the difference, Mother?”

“哦，妈，这有什么要紧的？”

“Muriel, I want to know. Your father—”

“穆丽尔，我想知道。你爸——”

“All right, all right. He calls me Miss Spiritual Tramp of 1948,” the girl said, and giggled.

“好吧好吧。他叫我‘一九四八年精神荡妇小姐’。”姑娘说着笑了起来。

“It isn’t funny, Muriel. It isn’t funny at all. It’s horrible. It’s sad, actually. When I think how—”

“这不好笑，穆丽尔。一点都不好笑。这很可怕。说真的，这挺让人难过的。想到——”

“Mother,” the girl interrupted, “listen to me. You remember that book he sent me from Germany? You know—those German poems. What’d I do with it? I’ve been racking my—”

“妈，”姑娘打断她，“听我说。您还记得他从德国寄给我的那本书吗？就是——那些德语诗。我那本书弄哪儿去了？我一直在想——”

“You have it.”

“在你那儿呢。”

“Are you sure?” said the girl.

“您确定？”姑娘说。

“Certainly. That is, I have it. It’s in Freddy’s room. You left it here and I didn’t have room for it in the—Why? Does he want it?”

“当然确定。哦不对，是在我这儿。放在弗雷迪的房间里。你走的时候落在这儿了，我那边又没地方放——怎么，他要那本书？”

“No. Only, he asked me about it, when we were driving down. He wanted to know if I’d read it.”

“不是。就是我们开车过来的路上，他问起过。他想知道我读了没有。”

“It was in German!”

“那可是德语的！”

“Yes, dear. That doesn’t make any difference,” said the girl, crossing her legs. “He said that the poems happen to be written by the only great poet of the century. He said I should’ve bought a translation or something. Or learned the language, if you please.”

“是的，亲爱的。这没什么要紧的。”姑娘说着，跷起了二郎腿。“他说那些诗恰好是本世纪唯一一位伟大诗人写的。他说我应该买本译本什么的。要不然，麻烦您，干脆学门外语。”

“Awful. Awful. It’s sad, actually, is what it is. Your father said last night—”

“太可怕了。太可怕了。说真的，这事挺让人难过的。你爸昨晚还说——”

“Just a second, Mother,” the girl said. She went over to the window seat for her cigarettes, lit one, and returned to her seat on the bed. “Mother?” she said, exhaling the smoke.

“等一下，妈。”姑娘说。她走到窗座那儿拿烟，点上一支，又回到床边坐下。“妈？”她一边说一边吐出烟雾。

“Muriel. Now listen to me.”

“穆丽尔。你听我说。”

“I’m listening.”

“我听着呢。”

“Your father talked to Dr. Sivetski.”

“你爸跟西维茨基医生谈过了。”

“Oh?” said the girl.

“哦？”姑娘说。

“He told him everything. At least, he said he did—you know your father. The trees. That business with the window. Those horrible things he said to Granny about her plans for passing away. What he did with all those lovely pictures from Bermuda—everything.”

“他把什么都跟医生说了。至少，他说他都说了——你了解你爸的脾气。那些树的事。窗户那档子事。他跟你外婆说的那些关于她身后事安排的可怕话。他把从百慕大带回来那些好看的照片弄成什么样了——全都说了。”

“Well?” said the girl.

“那然后呢？”姑娘说。

“Well, in the first place, he said it was a perfect crime—the Army released him from the hospital—my word of honor. He very definitely told your father there’s a chance—a very great chance, he said—that Seymour may completely lose control of himself. My word of honor.”

“他说，首先，部队把他从医院放出来简直是犯罪——我以我的名誉担保。他非常明确地告诉你爸，很有可能——他说是很大的可能——西摩会彻底失去控制。我以名誉担保。”

“There’s a psychiatrist here at the hotel,” said the girl.

“这家旅馆里就有个精神科医生。”姑娘说。

“Who? What’s his name?”

“谁？他叫什么名字？”

“I don’t know. Rieser or something. He’s supposed to be very good.”

“我不知道。姓里瑟什么的。听说很有水平。”

“Never heard of him.”

“没听说过这个人。”

“Well, he’s supposed to be very good, anyway.”

“反正听说是很有水平的。”

“Muriel, don’t be fresh, please. We’re very worried about you. Your father wanted to wire you last night to come home, as a matter of—”

“穆丽尔，别跟我耍嘴皮子。我们真的很担心你。你爸昨晚还想给你拍电报，让你回家来，实际上——”

“I’m not coming home right now, Mother. So relax.”

“我现在不回去，妈。您放宽心。”

“Muriel. My word of honor. Dr. Sivetski said Seymour may completely lose contr—”

“穆丽尔。我以名誉担保。西维茨基医生说西摩可能彻底失去控——”

“I just got here, Mother. This is the first vacation I’ve had in years, and I’m not going to just pack everything and come home,” said the girl. “I couldn’t travel now anyway. I’m so sunburned I can hardly move.”

“我才刚到，妈。这是我这些年来第一次休假，我可不打算收拾行李就这么回家。”姑娘说。“再说我现在也没法赶路。晒得都动不了了。”

“You’re badly sunburned? Didn’t you use that jar of Bronze I put in your bag? I put it right—”

“你晒得很严重？我给你放包里的那瓶防晒油你没用吗？我明明放在——”

“I used it. I’m burned anyway.”

“用了。还是晒伤了。”

“That’s terrible. Where are you burned?”

“太糟糕了。哪儿晒伤了？”

“All over, dear, all over.”

“全身，亲爱的，全身都是。”

“That’s terrible.”

“太糟糕了。”

“I’ll live.”

“死不了。”

“Tell me, did you talk to this psychiatrist?”

“跟我说说，你跟那个精神科医生谈过了吗？”

“Well, sort of,” said the girl.

“算是谈过吧。”姑娘说。

“What’d he say? Where was Seymour when you talked to him?”

“他说什么了？你跟他说话的时候西摩在哪儿？”

“In the Ocean Room, playing the piano. He’s played the piano both nights we’ve been here.”

“在海景厅弹钢琴呢。我们来的这两晚他都在弹钢琴。”

“Well, what’d he say?”

“那他说什么了？”

“Oh, nothing much. He spoke to me first. I was sitting next to him at Bingo last night, and he asked me if that wasn’t my husband playing the piano in the other room. I said yes, it was, and he asked me if Seymour’s been sick or something. So I said—”

“哦，也没说什么。是他先跟我搭话的。昨晚玩宾果游戏我坐他旁边，他问我隔壁弹钢琴的是不是我丈夫。我说是，他就问西摩是不是生病了还是怎么了。我就说——”

“Why’d he ask that?”

“他为什么这么问？”

“I don’t know, Mother. I guess because he’s so pale and all,” said the girl. “Anyway, after Bingo he and his wife asked me if I wouldn’t like to join them for a drink. So I did. His wife was horrible. You remember that awful dinner dress we saw in Bonwit’s window? The one you said you’d have to have a tiny, tiny—”

“我不知道，妈。大概是因为他脸色太苍白了吧。”姑娘说。“反正宾果游戏之后，他和他太太请我一起去喝一杯，我就去了。他太太可真够呛。您还记得我们在邦维特百货橱窗里看见的那件难看晚礼服吗？您说过您得瘦成那种一丁点儿的——”

“The green?”

“绿色那件？”

“She had it on. And all hips. She kept asking me if Seymour’s related to that Suzanne Glass that has that place on Madison Avenue—the millinery.”

“她就穿着那件。浑身都是胯骨。她一个劲儿地问我西摩是不是跟麦迪逊大道开女帽店的那个苏珊娜·格拉斯有亲戚关系。”

“What’d he say, though? The doctor.”

“那医生到底说什么了？”

“Oh. Well, nothing much, really. I mean we were in the bar and all. It was terribly noisy.”

“哦，其实也没说什么。我是说，我们那会儿都在酒吧里，吵得要命。”

“Yes, but did—did you tell him what he tried to do with Granny’s chair?”

“是，可你——你跟他说了他想对外婆那把椅子做的事了吗？”

“No, Mother. I didn’t go into details very much,” said the girl. “I’ll probably get a chance to talk to him again. He’s in the bar all day long.”

“没有，妈。我没细说。”姑娘说。“说不定还有机会再跟他谈谈。他整天都泡在酒吧里。”

“Did he say he thought there was a chance he might get—you know—funny or anything? Do something to you!”

“他有没有说他觉得西摩可能会——你知道的——发疯什么的？对你做出什么事来！”

“Not exactly,” said the girl. “He had to have more facts, Mother. They have to know about your childhood—all that stuff. I told you, we could hardly talk, it was so noisy in there.”

“倒没直说。”姑娘说。“他得多了解些情况才行，妈。他们得知道你的童年之类的一切。我跟您说了，那儿吵得我们几乎没法好好说话。”

“Well. How’s your blue coat?”

“好吧。你那件蓝外套怎么样了？”

“All right. I had some of the padding taken out.”

“挺好的。我把里面的一些垫肩拆掉了些。”

“How are the clothes this year?”

“今年的行头流行什么？”

“Terrible. But out of this world. You see sequins—everything,” said the girl.

“难看死了。不过又新奇得没边儿。到处都是亮片——什么都有。”姑娘说。

“How’s your room?”

“你们房间怎么样？”

“All right. Just all right, though. We couldn’t get the room we had before the war,” said the girl. “The people are awful this year. You should see what sits next to us in the dining room. At the next table. They look as if they drove down in a truck.”

“还行。也就是还行吧。战前我们住的那间没订到。”姑娘说。“今年这儿的人也太差劲了。您真该看看坐我们旁边那桌的。就在隔壁桌。那样子跟开卡车来的似的。”

“Well, it’s that way all over. How’s your ballerina?”

“唉，到处都这样。你那条芭蕾裙怎么样？”

“It’s too long. I told you it was too long.”

“太长了。我早就跟您说过太长了。”

“Muriel, I’m only going to ask you once more—are you really all right?”

“穆丽尔，我就再问你这一遍——你真的没事吧？”

“Yes, Mother,” said the girl. “For the ninetieth time.”

“没事，妈。”姑娘说。“这都第九十遍了。”

“And you don’t want to come home?”

“你真的不想回家来？”

“No, Mother.”

“不想，妈。”

“Your father said last night that he’d be more than willing to pay for it if you’d go away someplace by yourself and think things over. You could take a lovely cruise. We both thought—”

“你爸昨晚说了，只要你肯一个人出去清静清静，好好想想，他很乐意出这笔钱。你可以去坐个好好的游轮。我们俩都觉得——”

“No, thanks,” said the girl, and uncrossed her legs. “Mother, this call is costing a for—”

“不用了，谢谢。”姑娘说着放下了跷着的腿。“妈，这通电话可贵——”

“When I think of how you waited for that boy all through the war—I mean when you think of all those crazy little wives who—”

“我一想到你在整场战争里都在等那孩子——我是说想想那些疯疯癫癫的小媳妇们——”

“Mother,” said the girl, “we’d better hang up. Seymour may come in any minute.”

“妈，”姑娘说，“我们还是挂了吧。西摩随时可能进来。”

“Where is he?”

“他在哪儿？”

“On the beach.”

“在沙滩上。”

“On the beach? By himself? Does he behave himself on the beach?”

“在沙滩上？就他一个人？他在沙滩上规矩吗？”

“Mother,” said the girl, “you talk about him as though he were a raving maniac—”

“妈，”姑娘说，“您说得他跟个疯癫的狂人似的——”

“I said nothing of the kind, Muriel.”

“我可没那么说，穆丽尔。”

“Well, you sound that way. I mean all he does is lie there. He won’t take his bathrobe off.”

“听着就是那意思。我是说他就那么躺着，什么也不干。连浴袍都不肯脱。”

“He won’t take his bathrobe off? Why not?”

“他不肯脱浴袍？为什么？”

“I don’t know. I guess because he’s so pale.”

“我不知道。大概是因为他脸色太白了吧。”

“My goodness, he needs the sun. Can’t you make him?”

“我的天，他需要晒晒太阳。你就不能劝劝他？”

“You know Seymour,” said the girl, and crossed her legs again. “He says he doesn’t want a lot of fools looking at his tattoo.”

“您了解西摩的。”姑娘说着又跷起了腿。“他说他不想让一堆傻瓜盯着他的纹身看。”

“He doesn’t have any tattoo! Did he get one in the Army?”

“他哪来的纹身！他在部队里纹的？”

“No, Mother. No, dear,” said the girl, and stood up. “Listen, I’ll call you tomorrow, maybe.”

“没有，妈。没有，亲爱的。”姑娘说着站起身来。“听着，我明天说不定再给您打电话。”

“Muriel. Now, listen to me.”

“穆丽尔。你听我说。”

“Yes, Mother,” said the girl, putting her weight on her right leg.

“哎，妈。”姑娘说着把重心换到了右脚上。

“Call me the instant he does, or says, anything at all funny—you know what I mean. Do you hear me?”

“他要是做出或说出什么怪事，你马上给我打电话——你懂我意思。听见没有？”

“Mother, I’m not afraid of Seymour.”

“妈，我又不怕西摩。”

“Muriel, I want you to promise me.”

“穆丽尔，我要你答应我。”

“All right, I promise. Goodbye, Mother,” said the girl. “My love to Daddy.” She hung up.

“好吧，我答应您。再见，妈。”姑娘说。“替我问爸好。”她挂了电话。

“See more glass,” said Sybil Carpenter, who was staying at the hotel with her mother. “Did you see more glass?”

“西摩格拉斯，”和母亲一起住在这家旅馆的西比尔·卡朋特说，“你看见西摩格拉斯了吗？”

“Pussycat, stop saying that. It’s driving Mommy absolutely crazy. Hold still, please.”

“小猫咪，别老念叨这个了。都快把妈妈逼疯了。别乱动，乖。”

Mrs. Carpenter was putting sun-tan oil on Sybil’s shoulders, spreading it down over the delicate, winglike blades of her back. Sybil was sitting insecurely on a huge, inflated beach ball, facing the ocean. She was wearing a canary-yellow two-piece bathing suit, one piece of which she would not actually be needing for another nine or ten years.

卡朋特太太正往西比尔的肩膀上抹防晒油，一路抹下去，抹到她背上那对纤薄、翅膀似的肩胛骨上。西比尔面朝大海，摇摇晃晃地坐在一个巨大的充气沙滩球上。她穿着一套金丝雀黄的两截式泳装，其中一截，她其实还要再过个九年十年才用得上。

“It was really just an ordinary silk handkerchief—you could see when you got up close,” said the woman in the beach chair beside Mrs. Carpenter’s. “I wish I knew how she tied it. It was really darling.”

“其实就是块普通的丝绸手绢——凑近了看就知道了。”坐在卡朋特太太旁边沙滩椅上的女人说。“真希望我知道她是怎么系的。真是好看极了。”

“It sounds darling,” Mrs. Carpenter agreed. “Sybil, hold still, pussy.”

“听着是挺好看的。”卡朋特太太附和道。“西比尔，别乱动，小猫咪。”

“Did you see more glass?” said Sybil.

“你看见西摩格拉斯了吗？”西比尔说。

Mrs. Carpenter sighed. “All right,” she said. She replaced the cap on the sun-tan oil bottle. “Now run and play, pussy. Mommy’s going up to the hotel and have a Martini with Mrs. Hubbel. I’ll bring you the olive.”

卡朋特太太叹了口气。“好啦。”她说。她把防晒油瓶盖盖上。“去玩吧，小猫咪。妈妈要上旅馆去，跟哈贝尔太太喝杯马丁尼。我会把橄榄给你带回来的。”

Set loose, Sybil immediately ran down to the flat part of the beach and began to walk in the direction of Fisherman’s Pavilion. Stopping only to sink a foot in the soggy, collapsed castle, she was soon out of the area reserved for guests of the hotel.

一得了自由，西比尔立刻跑到沙滩平坦的地方，朝着渔人亭的方向走去。她只停下来把一只脚踩进一座湿软坍塌的沙堡，很快就走出了旅馆客人专用的区域。

She walked for about a quarter of a mile and then suddenly broke into an oblique run up the soft part of the beach. She stopped short when she reached the place where a young man was lying on his back.

她走了大概四分之一英里，忽然斜着朝沙滩松软的地方跑了起来。跑到一个年轻男人仰面躺着的地方，她猛地停住了脚步。

“Are you going in the water, see more glass?” she said.

“你要下水吗，西摩格拉斯？”她说。

The young man started, his right hand going to the lapels of his terry-cloth robe. He turned over on his stomach, letting a sausaged towel fall away from his eyes, and squinted up at Sybil.

年轻男人吓了一跳，右手不自觉地摸向毛巾布浴袍的领口。他翻身趴过来，一条卷成香肠状的毛巾从眼睛上滑落下来，他眯起眼睛抬头看着西比尔。

“Hey. Hello, Sybil.”

“嘿。你好啊，西比尔。”

“Are you going in the water?”

“你要下水吗？”

“I was waiting for you,” said the young man. “What’s new?”

“我正等你来呢。”年轻男人说。“有什么新鲜事？”

“What?” said Sybil.

“什么？”西比尔说。

“What’s new? What’s on the program?”

“有什么新鲜事？今天有什么安排？”

“My daddy’s coming tomorrow on a nairplane,” Sybil said, kicking sand.

“我爸爸明天坐一架飞机来。”西比尔一边说一边踢着沙子。

“Not in my face, baby,” the young man said, putting his hand on Sybil’s ankle. “Well, it’s about time he got here, your daddy. I’ve been expecting him hourly. Hourly.”

“别踢我脸上，宝贝。”年轻男人说着把手搭在西比尔的脚踝上。“嗯，你爸也该到了。我一直在等他呢，每时每刻都在等。”

“Where’s the lady?” Sybil said.

“那位太太在哪儿？”西比尔说。

“The lady?” The young man brushed some sand out of his thin hair. “That’s hard to say, Sybil. She may be in any one of a thousand places. At the hair-dresser’s. Having her hair dyed mink. Or making dolls for poor children, in her room.” Lying prone now, he made two fists, set one on top of the other, and rested his chin on the top one. “Ask me something else, Sybil,” he said. “That’s a fine bathing suit you have on. If there’s one thing I like, it’s a blue bathing suit.”

“那位太太？”年轻男人从稀疏的头发里抖出一些沙子。“这可不好说，西比尔。她可能在成千上万个地方中的任何一个。在美发店里，把头发染成貂皮色。或者在自己房间里，给穷孩子做布娃娃。”他这会儿趴着，握起两个拳头，一个叠在另一个上面，下巴搁在上面那只拳头上。“问我点别的吧，西比尔，”他说。“你这泳衣真好看。要说我喜欢什么，那就是蓝色泳衣了。”

Sybil stared at him, then looked down at her protruding stomach. “This is a yellow,” she said. “This is a yellow.”

西比尔盯着他看了看，又低头看看自己鼓起来的小肚子。“这是黄的呀，”她说。“这是黄色的。”

“It is? Come a little closer.”

“是吗？走近点看看。”

Sybil took a step forward.

西比尔往前迈了一步。

“You’re absolutely right. What a fool I am.”

“你说得完全对。我可真是个傻瓜。”

“Are you going in the water?” Sybil said.

“你要下水吗？”西比尔说。

“I’m seriously considering it. I’m giving it plenty of thought, Sybil, you’ll be glad to know.”

“我在认真考虑呢。我可是花了不少心思在想这事，西比尔，你听了应该会高兴的。”

Sybil prodded the rubber float that the young man sometimes used as a head-rest. “It needs air,” she said.

西比尔戳了戳那个年轻男人有时用来当枕头的橡皮浮板。“这个该打气了。”她说。

“You’re right. It needs more air than I’m willing to admit.” He took away his fists and let his chin rest on the sand. “Sybil,” he said, “you’re looking fine. It’s good to see you. Tell me about yourself.” He reached in front of him and took both of Sybil’s ankles in his hands. “I’m Capricorn,” he said. “What are you?”

“你说得对。这浮板缺的气，比我愿意承认的还要多。”他松开拳头，让下巴搁在沙子上。“西比尔，”他说，“你看起来气色不错。见到你真高兴。跟我说说你自己吧。”他伸手到身前，握住西比尔的两只脚踝。“我是摩羯座的，”他说。“你是什么座？”

“Sharon Lipschutz said you let her sit on the piano seat with you,” Sybil said.

“莎伦·利普舒茨说你让她跟你一起坐在钢琴凳上。”西比尔说。

“Sharon Lipschutz said that?”

“莎伦·利普舒茨这么说的？”

Sybil nodded vigorously.

西比尔使劲点了点头。

He let go of her ankles, drew in his hands, and laid the side of his face on his right forearm. “Well,” he said, “you know how those things happen, Sybil. I was sitting there, playing. And you were nowhere in sight. And Sharon Lipschutz came over and sat down next to me. I couldn’t push her off, could I?”

他松开她的脚踝，把手收回来，把脸侧过来枕在右前臂上。“唉，”他说，“你知道这种事是怎么发生的，西比尔。我坐在那儿弹琴。你又不在附近。莎伦·利普舒茨就走过来，在我旁边坐下了。我总不能把她推开吧，是不是？”

“Yes.”

“能。”

“Oh, no. No. I couldn’t do that,” said the young man. “I’ll tell you what I did do, though.”

“哦，不行。不行，我不能那么做。”年轻男人说。“不过我倒可以告诉你我做了什么。”

“What?”

“什么？”

“I pretended she was you.”

“我假装她就是你。”

Sybil immediately stopped and began to dig in the sand. “Let’s go in the water,” she said.

西比尔立刻不问了，开始在沙子里挖起来。“我们下水吧。”她说。

“All right,” said the young man. “I think I can work it in.”

“好啊，”年轻男人说。“我看这事儿我能挤出时间来。”

“Next time, push her off,” Sybil said.

“下次把她推开。”西比尔说。

“Push who off?”

“推开谁？”

“Sharon Lipschutz.”

“莎伦·利普舒茨。”

“Ah, Sharon Lipschutz,” said the young man. “How that name comes up. Mixing memory and desire.” He suddenly got to his feet. He looked at the ocean. “Sybil,” he said, “I’ll tell you what we’ll do. We’ll see if we can catch a bananafish.”

“啊，莎伦·利普舒茨，”年轻男人说。“这名字老是冒出来。把记忆和欲望都搅到一块儿了。”他忽然站了起来，望向大海。“西比尔，”他说，“我跟你说我们要干什么。我们去看看能不能抓到一条香蕉鱼。”

“A what?”

“一条什么？”

“A bananafish,” he said, and undid the belt of his robe. He took off his robe. His shoulders were white and narrow, and his trunks were royal blue. He folded the robe, first lengthwise, then in thirds. He unrolled the towel he had used over his eyes, spread it out on the sand, and then laid the folded robe on top of it. He bent over, picked up the float, and secured it under his right arm. Then, with his left hand, he took Sybil’s hand.

“一条香蕉鱼。”他说着解开了浴袍的带子。他脱下浴袍。他的肩膀又白又窄，泳裤是宝蓝色的。他把浴袍先竖着对折，再叠成三折。他把先前盖在眼睛上的那条毛巾展开，铺在沙子上，又把叠好的浴袍放在毛巾上面。他弯下腰，捡起浮板，夹在右胳膊底下，然后用左手牵起了西比尔的手。

The two started to walk down to the ocean.

两人一起朝大海走去。

“I imagine you’ve seen quite a few bananafish in your day,” the young man said.

“我猜你这辈子应该也见过不少香蕉鱼了。”年轻男人说。

Sybil shook her head.

西比尔摇摇头。

“You haven’t? Where do you live, anyway?”

“没见过？那你到底住哪儿呀？”

“I don’t know,” said Sybil.

“我不知道。”西比尔说。

“Sure you know. You must know. Sharon Lipschutz knows where she lives and she’s only three and a half.”

“你肯定知道的。你一定知道。莎伦·利普舒茨知道自己住哪儿，她才三岁半呢。”

Sybil stopped walking and yanked her hand away from him. She picked up an ordinary beach shell and looked at it with elaborate interest. She threw it down. “Whirly Wood, Connecticut,” she said, and resumed walking, stomach foremost.

西比尔停下脚步，猛地把手从他手里抽出来。她捡起一个普普通通的贝壳，装模作样地看得津津有味，然后又把它扔掉。“康涅狄格州，沃利伍德。”她说完又继续往前走，肚子挺得老高。

“Whirly Wood, Connecticut,” said the young man. “Is that anywhere near Whirly Wood, Connecticut, by any chance?”

“康涅狄格州，沃利伍德，”年轻男人说。“那地方该不会正好在康涅狄格州的沃利伍德附近吧？”

Sybil looked at him. “That’s where I live,” she said, impatiently. “I live in Whirly Wood, Connecticut.” She ran a few steps ahead of him, caught up her left foot in her left hand, and hopped two or three times.

西比尔看着他。“我就住那儿呀，”她不耐烦地说。“我就住在康涅狄格州的沃利伍德。”她朝前跑了几步，用左手抓住自己的左脚，蹦跳了两三下。

“You have no idea how clear that makes everything,” the young man said.

“你都不知道这下一切都清楚多少了。”年轻男人说。

Sybil released her foot. “Did you read ‘Little Black Sambo’?” she said.

西比尔放开了脚。“你读过《小黑桑波》吗？”她说。

“It’s very funny you ask me that,” he said. “It so happens I just finished reading it last night.” He reached down and took back Sybil’s hand. “What did you think of it?” he asked her.

“你问我这个可真是巧了，”他说。“我昨晚碰巧刚读完呢。”他弯腰重新牵起西比尔的手。“你觉得这本书怎么样？”他问她。

“Did the tigers run all around that tree?”

“那些老虎有没有绕着那棵树一直跑？”

“I thought they’d never stop. I never saw so many tigers.”

“我还以为它们停不下来了呢。我从没见过那么多老虎。”

“There were only six,” Sybil said.

“才六只而已。”西比尔说。

“Only six!” said the young man. “Do you call that only?”

“才六只！”年轻男人说。“你还嫌少啊？”

“Do you like wax?” Sybil asked.

“你喜欢蜡吗？”西比尔问。

“Do I like what?” asked the young man.

“我喜欢什么？”年轻男人问。

“Wax.”

“蜡。”

“Very much. Don’t you?”

“非常喜欢。你不喜欢吗？”

Sybil nodded. “Do you like olives?” she asked.

西比尔点点头。“你喜欢橄榄吗？”她问。

“Olives—yes. Olives and wax. I never go anyplace without ’em.”

“橄榄——喜欢。橄榄和蜡。我走到哪儿都要带着它们。”

“Do you like Sharon Lipschutz?” Sybil asked.

“你喜欢莎伦·利普舒茨吗？”西比尔问。

“Yes. Yes, I do,” said the young man. “What I like particularly about her is that she never does anything mean to little dogs in the lobby of the hotel. That little toy bull that belongs to that lady from Canada, for instance. You probably don’t believe it, but some little girls like to poke that little dog with balloon sticks. Sharon doesn’t. She’s never mean or unkind. That’s why I like her so much.”

“喜欢。是的，我喜欢。”年轻男人说。“我特别喜欢她的一点是，她从来不欺负旅馆大堂里的那些小狗。比如说那只属于加拿大来的太太的玩具斗牛犬。你大概不信，可有些小女孩就喜欢拿气球棍去戳那只小狗。莎伦不这样。她从来不刻薄，也不刻意伤人。这就是我这么喜欢她的原因。”

Sybil was silent.

西比尔没吭声。

“I like to chew candles,” she said finally.

“我喜欢嚼蜡烛。”她终于说道。

“Who doesn’t?” said the young man, getting his feet wet. “Wow! It’s cold.” He dropped the rubber float on its back. “No, wait just a second, Sybil. Wait’ll we get out a little bit.”

“谁不喜欢呢？”年轻男人说着，脚已经沾了水。“哇！真冷。”他把橡皮浮板扔到水面上，让它平躺着。“不，等一下，西比尔。等我们走远一点再上去。”

They waded out till the water was up to Sybil’s waist. Then the young man picked her up and laid her down on her stomach on the float.

他们蹚着水往前走，一直走到水没到西比尔的腰。然后年轻男人抱起她，让她趴在浮板上。

“Don’t you ever wear a bathing cap or anything?” he asked.

“你从来不戴游泳帽什么的吗？”他问。

“Don’t let go,” Sybil ordered. “You hold me, now.”

“别放手。”西比尔命令道。“抓紧我，听见没。”

“Miss Carpenter. Please. I know my business,” the young man said. “You just keep your eyes open for any bananafish. This is a perfect day for bananafish.”

“卡朋特小姐。拜托。我干这行是内行。”年轻男人说。“你就睁大眼睛留意有没有香蕉鱼。今天正是抓香蕉鱼的最佳日子。”

“I don’t see any,” Sybil said.

“我没看见有啊。”西比尔说。

“That’s understandable. Their habits are very peculiar.” He kept pushing the float. The water was not quite up to his chest. “They lead a very tragic life,” he said. “You know what they do, Sybil?”

“那也正常。它们的习性特别古怪。”他一直推着浮板往前走，水刚好没到他的胸口。“它们过着一种非常悲惨的生活。”他说。“你知道它们是怎么过日子的吗，西比尔？”

She shook her head.

她摇摇头。

“Well, they swim into a hole where there’s a lot of bananas. They’re very ordinary-looking fish when they swim in. But once they get in, they behave like pigs. Why, I’ve known some bananafish to swim into a banana hole and eat as many as seventy-eight bananas.” He edged the float and its passenger a foot closer to the horizon. “Naturally, after that they’re so fat they can’t get out of the hole again. Can’t fit through the door.”

“它们呀，会游进一个长满香蕉的洞里去。游进去的时候，看着还都是些很普通的鱼。可一旦进了洞，它们就跟猪一样。我就知道有些香蕉鱼一游进香蕉洞，能一口气吃掉七十八根香蕉呢。”他把浮板连同上面的乘客又往海平线的方向推近了一英尺。“结果呢，它们自然就撑得太胖，再也游不出那个洞了。连洞口都塞不过去。”

“Not too far out,” Sybil said. “What happens to them?”

“别游太远了。”西比尔说。“那它们后来怎么样了？”

“What happens to who?”

“谁后来怎么样了？”

“The bananafish.”

“香蕉鱼呀。”

“Oh, you mean after they eat so many bananas they can’t get out of the banana hole?”

“哦，你是说它们吃了那么多香蕉、出不了香蕉洞以后吗？”

“Yes,” said Sybil.

“对。”西比尔说。

“Well, I hate to tell you, Sybil. They die.”

“唉，我也不想告诉你这个，西比尔。它们会死掉。”

“Why?” asked Sybil.

“为什么？”西比尔问。

“Well, they get banana fever. It’s a terrible disease.”

“唉，它们得了香蕉热。这是种很可怕的病。”

“Here comes a wave,” Sybil said nervously.

“一个浪打过来了。”西比尔紧张地说。

“We’ll ignore it. We’ll snub it,” said the young man. “Two snobs.” He took Sybil’s ankles in his hands and pressed down and forward. The float nosed over the top of the wave. The water soaked Sybil’s blond hair, but her scream was full of pleasure.

“我们不理它。我们冷落它。”年轻男人说。“两个势利眼。”他抓住西比尔的脚踝，往下、往前一压。浮板的头部越过了浪尖。海水打湿了西比尔金黄色的头发，可她的尖叫里满是快乐。

With her hand, when the float was level again, she wiped away a flat, wet band of hair from her eyes, and reported, “I just saw one.”

浮板重新平稳下来后，她用手把一绺贴在眼睛上的湿头发拨开，报告说：“我刚看见一条。”

“Saw what, my love?”

“看见什么了，亲爱的？”

“A bananafish.”

“一条香蕉鱼。”

“My God, no!” said the young man. “Did he have bananas in his mouth?”

“我的天，不会吧！”年轻男人说。“它嘴里含着香蕉吗？”

“Yes,” said Sybil. “Six.”

“有，”西比尔说。“六根。”

The young man suddenly picked up one of Sybil’s wet feet, which were drooping over the end of the float, and kissed the arch.

年轻男人突然抓起西比尔垂在浮板边缘的一只湿脚，吻了吻脚心。

“Hey!” said the owner of the foot, turning around.

“嘿！”那只脚的主人转过身来说。

“Hey, yourself! We’re going in now. You had enough?”

“嘿你自己吧！我们该上岸了。你玩够了吗？”

“No!”

“没有！”

“Sorry,” he said, and pushed the float toward shore until Sybil got off it. He carried it the rest of the way.

“抱歉啦。”他说着把浮板往岸边推，一直推到西比尔下来为止。剩下的路他自己把浮板扛着走。

“Goodbye,” said Sybil, and ran without regret in the direction of the hotel.

“再见。”西比尔说完，头也不回地朝旅馆的方向跑去。

The young man put on his robe, closed the lapels tight, and jammed his towel into his pocket. He picked up the slimy, wet, cumbersome float and put it under his arm. He plodded alone through the soft, hot sand toward the hotel.

年轻男人穿上浴袍，把领口裹紧，把毛巾塞进口袋。他捡起那块滑腻、潮湿、笨重的浮板，夹在胳膊底下，独自一人，深一脚浅一脚地穿过又软又烫的沙滩，朝旅馆走去。

On the sub-main floor of the hotel, which the management directed bathers to use, a woman with zinc salve on her nose got into the elevator with the young man.

在旅馆管理方特意安排给游泳客人使用的次楼层，一个鼻子上抹着氧化锌药膏的女人和年轻男人一起进了电梯。

“I see you’re looking at my feet,” he said to her when the car was in motion.

电梯开动以后，他对她说：“我看见你在看我的脚。”

“I beg your pardon?” said the woman.

“你说什么？”那女人说。

“I said I see you’re looking at my feet.”

“我说我看见你在看我的脚。”

“I beg your pardon. I happened to be looking at the floor,” said the woman, and faced the doors of the car.

“不好意思。我只是碰巧在看地板而已。”女人说着转过身面对电梯门。

“If you want to look at my feet, say so,” said the young man. “But don’t be a God-damned sneak about it.”

“你要是想看我的脚，就直说。”年轻男人说。“可别他妈的这么鬼鬼祟祟的。”

“Let me out here, please,” the woman said quickly to the girl operating the car.

“劳驾让我在这儿下去。”女人连忙对开电梯的姑娘说。

The car doors opened and the woman got out without looking back.

电梯门开了，女人头也不回地走了出去。

“I have two normal feet and I can’t see the slightest God-damned reason why anybody should stare at them,” said the young man. “Five, please.” He took his room key out of his robe pocket.

“我这两只脚再正常不过，我实在看不出有什么他妈的理由，值得别人这么盯着看。”年轻男人说。“麻烦到五楼。”他从浴袍口袋里掏出房间钥匙。

He got off at the fifth floor, walked down the hall, and let himself into 507. The room smelled of new calfskin luggage and nail-lacquer remover.

他在五楼下了电梯，走过走廊，开门进了 507 房。房间里弥漫着新小牛皮行李箱和指甲油卸除液的气味。

He glanced at the girl lying asleep on one of the twin beds. Then he went over to one of the pieces of luggage, opened it, and from under a pile of shorts and undershirts he took out an Ortgies calibre 7.65 automatic. He released the magazine, looked at it, then reinserted it. He cocked the piece. Then he went over and sat down on the unoccupied twin bed, looked at the girl, aimed the pistol, and fired a bullet through his right temple.

他瞥了一眼睡在其中一张床上的姑娘，然后走到一只行李箱前，打开箱子，从一堆短裤和汗衫底下，取出一把奥特吉斯 7.65 毫米口径自动手枪。他退出弹匣，看了看，又装了回去。他扳开保险。然后他走过去，在另一张空床上坐下，看着那姑娘，举起手枪瞄准，朝自己的右太阳穴开了一枪。