天使的翅膀

I answer the ringing phone， “Hello?”

“Hi， darling， it’s Patty. Haven’t seen you in a while. How’re you doing?”

It’s not a 1)rhetorical question. Patty knows I’ve been struggling recently with mood 2)swings and 3)insomnia as my hormones adjust to the approach of 4)menopause.

“Pretty good today，” I answer. “How about you?”

“Fine， as ever. Can you come over tomorrow around noon and change a phone number for me?”

“Sure.”

She closes our conversation with her signature phrase: “Angel wings around you!”

Patty’s friends number in the hundreds， and she 5)keeps tabs on all of them. She’s part of an 6)interdenominational prayer circle that covers a great 7)swath of western Washington. Just 8)let slip one word about an 9)ailment or a child having a crisis， and you know your name will get added to the list of folks needing mention in prayer.

As I walk down the block to Patty’s house the next day， I feel a 10)twinge of guilt. It should be me calling up to check on her， I tell myself. But life gets so 11)hectic， and every day finds me rushing about to get all the needful things done.

Patty doesn’t do any rushing around， although I joke with her about 12)bundling her up in bubble wrap， sitting her on a skateboard， and pushing her down the street just to get some fresh air.

I walk into her room. Angels， wings spread， cover all the walls， 13)beaming down on visitors. Angel paintings， angel sculptures， even a teddy bear with wings – they’re

all gifts from her friends. Beneath one of the angels is a framed 14)certificate citing Patty’s 153)counseling 16)credentials.

“Hi， darling!” she says from her hospital bed. She’s in her usual semi-17)reclining position.

I turn off her television.

“First， can you straighten out my right hand?” Patty asks.

I uncurl her fingers and tuck her hand back into place. The 18)humming pump at the foot of the bed keeps the air mattress 19)inflated.

“Now， raise the 20)tray just a bit.”

I circle around to her left side and adjust the control on the tray’s

support post. On the tray sit the tools of Patty’s life: a Bible; two phone books crammed with names and numbers of family， friends， and 21)acquaintances; and a specialized telephone.

“See the slip of paper on the big black phone book?” she says. “That number needs to go in position five.”

The telephone holds twenty programmed numbers. Patty can turn the phone on by blowing on a 22)puffer switch positioned by her mouth. Then she waits until the blinking light cycles to the phone number she wants.

Another puff on the switch and the phone dials out automatically. One of the programmed numbers 23)summons the operator for calls to people not on the list.

I dig the telephone’s instruction 24)manual out of the drawer， find the right page， and 25)punch the 26)sequence of buttons to change the number for Patty’s grown daughter， Jenny. Jenny’s family has just moved to Boise， Idaho， where the job prospects are better and the cost of living lower than in the Seattle area.

Then the phone rings. “Hello， hello!” Patty says. Her phone recognizes the command and turns on the speaker.

A sad voice pipes up， and Patty goes into counselor mode. Who’s better to advise and comfort newly diagnosed 27)multiple sclerosis patients than someone who knows the disease inside and out?

I look at family portraits on the bureau， while Patty talks with an acquaintance in distress. In one sense her world has shrunk to the four walls of her room， yet in another Patty’s touch has spread to anyplace a telephone can reach.

Anyplace in our town， in our state， in our country.

“Angel wings around you!” she says at last and puffs to disconnect the phone. “Would you check the calendar for me?” Patty asks.

I detach the calendar from its clip on the refrige-rator and bring it back to Patty’s side.

“What birthdays are left this month?”

“Linda on the 25th，” I say.

“Already done.”

Another friend comes over regularly to address birthday cards. You can guess what greeting gets 28)inscribed in each and every card!

“Matt on the 27th.”

“Already done.”

Someone else keeps Patty stocked up on greeting cards. Another friend does her Christmas shopping. Each person who 29)renders Patty some small service finds the deed a small thing in comparison to the 30)ministration of love and care she gives in return. I often leave feeling humbled. If Patty can bear her trials with such grace and strength， how petty am I to complain over lesser problems?

“Gerene on the 29th.”

“Already done.”

Patty doesn’t need the calendar off the fridge. She’s got a better one in her head. Birthdays，

anniversaries， names of children， details of the trials of family and close friends – she remembers them all. Her memory is nearly 31)photographic.

Sure， she’d like the use of her arms and legs again. But since multiple sclerosis has shut down most of her body， Patty makes good use of what she has left: her voice， her mind， her heart.

I put the calendar back in place， and we chat for a while about my two grown daughters. When it’s time to go， I turn on her television and say goodbye.

“Angel wings around you!” she calls after me.

Angel wings…invisible， unseen. As I close the door and walk outside， I feel them around me

already. And I know that angel’s name.

我接起正在響著的電話，“喂？”

“嗨，親愛(ài)的，我是佩蒂。很久不見(jiàn)了，你近來(lái)好嗎？”

這并不是一個(gè)反問(wèn)句。佩蒂知道近來(lái)我正努力克服情緒波動(dòng)和失眠的困擾，因?yàn)槲殷w內(nèi)的荷爾蒙正在調(diào)整內(nèi)分泌，以應(yīng)對(duì)更年期的逼近。

“今天挺好的，”我說(shuō)。“你呢？”

“像往常一樣，很不錯(cuò)。你能在明天中午時(shí)過(guò)來(lái)幫我修改一個(gè)電話號(hào)碼嗎？”

“當(dāng)然可以?！?/p>

她以其專用的短句結(jié)束了我們的談話：“愿天使的翅膀守護(hù)你！”

佩蒂有數(shù)以百計(jì)的朋友。她照看著每一個(gè)人。她是一個(gè)派系之間祈禱圈的成員，這個(gè)圈子覆蓋了華盛頓州西部的大部分地區(qū)。倘若你不小心說(shuō)起自己的小病小痛或者孩子遇到麻煩，你的名字就會(huì)被加到名單中，他們祈禱時(shí)會(huì)提及你。

第二天，沿著街區(qū)走去佩蒂家時(shí)，我心里有一種罪惡感。我告訴自己，本該是我打電話去詢問(wèn)她的近況。然而生活如此忙碌，我每天都急急忙忙地趕著將該做的事情做完。

佩蒂?gòu)牟挥谩摆s鴨子”的方式做事。雖然我常開(kāi)玩笑說(shuō)要將她用泡泡紙綁起來(lái)，安置在滑板上，把她推下街道，好讓她呼吸新鮮空氣。

我走進(jìn)她的房間。張開(kāi)翅膀的天使布滿所有的墻面，低頭向來(lái)訪者微笑。天使掛畫(huà)、天使雕塑，甚至長(zhǎng)著翅膀的泰迪熊——它們?nèi)际桥笥阉徒o她的禮物。在其中一個(gè)天使的下面掛著一個(gè)鑲了框的證書(shū)，那是佩蒂的心理咨詢師資格證。

“嗨，親愛(ài)的！”她在病床上說(shuō)，她像平常那樣半躺著。

我關(guān)掉她的電視機(jī)。

“首先，你能幫我把右手放直嗎？”佩蒂問(wèn)。

我把她的手指展平，將她的手放好位置。床尾那臺(tái)嗡嗡響的氣泵使充氣床墊總是鼓鼓的。

“現(xiàn)在把托板稍微升高一點(diǎn)。”

我轉(zhuǎn)過(guò)她的左手邊去調(diào)整托板支撐桿上的控制器。托板上放著佩蒂的生活必需品：一本圣經(jīng)、兩本寫(xiě)滿了家人、朋友和熟人的名字和電話號(hào)碼的電話本，還有一部特制電話。

“看到那本大大的黑色電話本上面的那張紙嗎？”她說(shuō)?！澳莻€(gè)號(hào)碼要設(shè)置到第五位?！?/p>

這部電話擁有20個(gè)預(yù)設(shè)號(hào)碼。佩蒂可以通過(guò)吹動(dòng)嘴邊的吹氣開(kāi)關(guān)來(lái)啟動(dòng)電話。接著，她只需等待閃燈圈到她所想要的號(hào)碼，再往開(kāi)關(guān)吹一下，電話就會(huì)自動(dòng)撥出。其中一個(gè)預(yù)設(shè)號(hào)碼可以接通接線員，為她撥打電話不在名單上的人。

我從抽屜里找出電話使用手冊(cè)，翻到需要的那一頁(yè)，按下數(shù)字按鈕，修改了佩蒂成年的女兒珍妮的號(hào)碼。珍妮及其家人剛剛搬到愛(ài)達(dá)荷州博伊西市，那里有更好的工作前景，生活消費(fèi)也比西雅圖地區(qū)低一些。

隨后，電話鈴響了?！拔?，你好！”佩蒂說(shuō)。她的電話辨識(shí)出這個(gè)指令并啟動(dòng)了揚(yáng)聲器。一個(gè)哀傷的聲音傳來(lái)，佩蒂立即進(jìn)入咨詢師的角色。有誰(shuí)能比一位對(duì)多發(fā)性硬化疾病有親身體會(huì)的人更能給新患者提供建議和安慰呢？

我看著書(shū)桌上的全家福，佩蒂繼續(xù)與這位沮喪的朋友聊天。從某個(gè)角度看，她的世界被壓縮成這個(gè)由四面墻壁圍成的房間，但是從另一個(gè)角度看，佩蒂觸及電話能到達(dá)的任何一個(gè)地方——我們鎮(zhèn)、我們州以及我們國(guó)家的每一個(gè)地方。

“愿天使的翅膀守護(hù)你！”她最后說(shuō)，然后吹口氣掛了電話。

“你能幫我看一看日歷嗎？”佩蒂問(wèn)。

我從冰箱的夾子上取下日歷，拿到佩蒂身旁。

“這個(gè)月還剩下幾個(gè)生日？”

“25號(hào)琳達(dá)生日，”我說(shuō)。

“已經(jīng)寄出了?！?/p>

另外一個(gè)朋友常常過(guò)來(lái)幫忙寄送生日賀卡。你大概能猜出每張卡片上都寫(xiě)著什么祝賀語(yǔ)了。

“27號(hào)馬特生日?！?/p>

“已經(jīng)寄出了?！?/p>

某位朋友確保佩蒂存有足夠的賀卡，另一個(gè)朋友則幫她購(gòu)買(mǎi)圣誕禮物。每一個(gè)幫助佩蒂辦一些瑣碎小事的人都會(huì)發(fā)現(xiàn)他們做的這些事情——相對(duì)于佩蒂回報(bào)他們的關(guān)心和愛(ài)護(hù)來(lái)說(shuō)，確實(shí)微不足道。我經(jīng)常為此自愧不如。如果佩蒂能以這樣的優(yōu)雅和堅(jiān)強(qiáng)來(lái)面對(duì)她的不幸，一點(diǎn)小問(wèn)題就怨天尤人的，我顯得多么可悲啊。

“29號(hào)格林生日?！?/p>

“已經(jīng)寄出了?！?/p>

佩蒂其實(shí)并不需要看冰箱上的日歷，她的腦中有一個(gè)更好的日歷。生日、紀(jì)念日、孩子的名字、家人和密友的大事小事——她全部記得。她擁有過(guò)目不忘的記性。

當(dāng)然，她也希望能再次用上自己的四肢。不過(guò)，既然多發(fā)性硬化讓她幾乎全身癱瘓，佩蒂很好地利用著她所剩下的一切：她的聲音、她的思想、她的心靈。

我把日歷放回原位，和她聊起我那兩個(gè)已經(jīng)長(zhǎng)大成人的女兒。該回家的時(shí)候，我為她打開(kāi)電視并道別。

“愿天使的翅膀守護(hù)你！”她在我身后說(shuō)。

天使的翅膀……看不見(jiàn)，摸不著。當(dāng)我關(guān)上門(mén)走到外面時(shí)，我覺(jué)得它們仿佛已經(jīng)將我包圍。并且，我知道這位天使的名字。