石頭殼，金子心

I never intended to get a tortoise… I was in a troubled relationship with a man who was the opposite of me in almost every way， until we discovered we both wanted a pet. We thought we’d finally found some common ground. I was allergic to dogs and cats， so we 1）scouted for other possibilities at the pet store. I pointed to a crowded tank， a glossy shell and a pair of orange ringed eyes.

“This is what you want？” he asked doubtfully.

I nodded.

We named the tortoise Minnie， and by the time we realized she was a he， after an 2）eye-popping male display， the name had stuck.

How could I not love this strange little creature， especially when he clacked his jaw as if he were speaking and drew up his long， lovely neck to sniff the air？

I bathed him in the sink. I hand-fed him 3）avocado， wiggling it so he would think it was live food. I even kissed his shell.

“You’re a little obsessive about him，” my boyfriend accused. “It isn’t normal.”

The more time I spent discovering the tortoise， the more my boyfriend uncovered things about me he didn’t like. My friends were now too loud， and why couldn’t I trade my jeans for something more feminine， with a 4）flounce？ It wasn’t long before I broke up with him， and Minnie and I moved to a small apartment in Chelsea.

Every night I would take Minnie out of the tank， put him on the table and tell him about my day. Sometimes I’d cry because I was lonely. But Minnie always seemed to listen and clack his jaws at just the right time. At night， when I woke up， all I had to do was look across the room and there he was， Buddha in a shell， wise and deeply comforting.

I couldn’t bear another relationship where I was forced to be someone I wasn’t. “You’re odd，” my ex had told me.“All you want to do is watch movies， read books and play with Minnie.” He meant it as a 5）rebuke， but I kept thinking： what was wrong with that kind of 6）nirvana？

Then I met Jeff， a smart， funny journalist who took me to a toy store for our first date， I was anxious about how much I liked him. I invited him to dinner， which I admit was more a dare than a meal. Minnie was on the table in a glass tank with us.

We were having spaghetti. Minnie was having live worms.

Jeff cautiously sat down. He looked at the tortoise tank and didn’t say a word. When Minnie 7）lunged for a worm， Jeff flinched. But he didn’t get up and leave， and at the end of the evening， he asked for another date. He didn’t object weeks later when I wanted us to take Minnie to Central Park， and he came with a picnic basket and a little wrapped gift. Inside was a little red rubber squid toy.

“I thought he’d like it，” Jeff said， wiggling it at Minnie， who lunged toward it.

While my old boyfriend told me how obsessive I was about Minnie， Jeff celebrated our connection， making a fake newspaper cover featuring Minnie and me. （“Startling Tales of Tortoise Life！ She holds me under the 8）faucet！” the headline blared.）

Two years later we married and moved to Hoboken， N.J.， where Minnie resided in a glass tank on a table in my writing studio. All I had to do to see him was turn around.

When Jeff and I had a child， I got critically ill with a rare blood disorder. I was in the hospital for three months and at home in bed for another six. Jeff would bring in our son every morning and set him on the bed so I could cradle and play with him. One day he brought Minnie and a towel and set him on the bed， too.

One afternoon when Jeff wasn’t home and our son was at school， I heard a noise in my office. When I walked in， Minnie wasn’t moving， and when I lifted him， his legs fell gracelessly against my hand. Sobbing， I carried him outside to the backyard. I wanted to bury him there so he’d always be a presence near me， but the ground was rocky and I couldn’t dig a hole deeper than four inches， barely enough to cover his shell. Worse， it started to rain， soaking me. I kept imagining Minnie’s bones floating up from the ground like something out of Stephen King’s 9）Pet Sematary.

So I wrapped him in a towel and ran two blocks to the vet， where， covered in mud and weeping， I let them gently take him from me.

I grieved. Of course， I grieved. But when I told people how much I missed him， how I couldn’t write without him in my office， they didn’t get it.

“He was like a pet rock，” my mother said. “How can you miss a rock？”

People told me about their dogs and cats who had died， and I thought， it’s easy to love the beautiful， the normal. But what about the gifts of loving the strange， the uncommon， the odd？

I felt I would never get over him. Then one day I came home to find Jeff grinning. “Come to your office，” he said.

We walked upstairs， and there on the wall was a painting of Minnie， walking on our wood floors， moving toward an open doorway， his head happily 10）aloft.

I looked at Jeff， astonished. An old high school friend， a painter， had captured Minnie on canvas， and Jeff had hung the portrait inches from where Minnie’s tank used to be.

Recently， when I got up to go to work in my office， I thought about how， for a while， I was unlucky in love. I no more fit in my old life than Minnie had in his tiny pet store tank. I remembered my ex telling me he wanted a girlfriend who was more normal.

Then I looked across the hall to see my husband waving and beaming at me， and I gazed at the wall and there was Minnie. A strange little figure. Uncommon. Odd. And completely and always beloved.

我從未想過自己會養(yǎng)一只烏龜當寵物……那時，我的戀愛生活問題百出，我的男友是一個幾乎在各方面都與我截然相反的人，直到我們發(fā)現(xiàn)對方都希望養(yǎng)一只寵物。我們以為我們終于找到了一些共同點。我對貓狗過敏，因此我們在寵物店里搜尋其他可能的選擇。我指著一個擁擠的玻璃缸，里面有一只家伙披著閃亮的外殼，長著一雙眼眶發(fā)黃的眼睛。

“這就是你想要的？”他疑惑地問道。

我點了點頭。

我們給這烏龜起了個名字，叫米妮。直到看到它做出一個讓人大吃一驚的雄性行為時，我們才意識到原來“她”是個男孩，“米妮”這個名字也改不掉了。

我怎能不愛上這個奇怪的小家伙呢？特別是當它咔嗒著下巴好像在說話，還伸長著可愛的脖子在空氣中嗅來嗅去的時候。

我在玻璃缸里給它洗澡。我親手給它喂鱷梨，故意把食物晃動起來讓它以為是活的。我甚至還親吻它的外殼。

“你對它有點過度著迷了，”我的男朋友抱怨道?！斑@不太正常?！?/p>

我越是花時間研究這只烏龜，我的男友就越發(fā)發(fā)現(xiàn)我身上有他不喜歡的方面。我的朋友們現(xiàn)在說話太大聲了，為什么我不能換掉我的牛仔褲，穿上更加有女人味的著裝，比如有荷葉邊的衣服？不久之后，我就和他分手了，我?guī)е啄莅岬搅宋挥谇袪栁鞯囊凰」⒗铩?/p>

每天晚上，我都會把米妮從玻璃缸拿出來，放在桌面上，給它講述我一天的生活。有時我會哭鼻子，那是因為我寂寞了。可是米妮似乎一直都在聆聽，在恰當?shù)臅r候吧嗒下巴。晚上，每當我醒來，只要望望房間的另一頭，它就在那里，像安身殼中的一尊佛，充滿智慧，給人無限安慰。

我不能再忍受另一段這樣的戀愛關(guān)系，要被迫扮演另外一個人?！澳阏嫫婀?，”我的前男友曾對我說。“你想做的事就只是看看電影、讀讀書，還有跟米妮玩兒?！彼脑捴袔в兄肛?，然而我卻一直想：享受那樣的極樂有何不可？

然后，我遇到了杰夫。他是一個睿智、風趣的記者，第一次約會時就帶我去一家玩具店，對于自己有多喜歡他，我忐忑不安。我邀請他共進晚餐，不得不承認這更像是大冒險而非尋常晚飯——米妮當時就在桌子上的玻璃缸里和我們在一起。

我們在吃意大利面，米妮則在吃活生生的蟲子。

杰夫小心翼翼地坐下來。他看著那個烏龜玻璃缸，一聲不吭。當米妮猛地啄起一條蟲子，杰夫退縮了一下。不過他并沒有起身離開，晚餐結(jié)束時，他邀約下一次約會。幾周后，我提議一起帶米妮去中央公園，他并沒有反對，還帶著一個野餐籃和一份包裝精美的小禮物出現(xiàn)。里面裝著的是一個小小的紅色橡皮章魚玩具。

“我覺得它會喜歡這個玩具，”杰夫一邊說，一邊朝著米妮晃動著，米妮一下就把它啄過去了。

我的前男友說我對米妮過分著迷，杰夫卻仿制了一份虛擬報紙封面，用頭條報道我和米妮的故事，來慶祝我們的親密關(guān)系。（標題大呼：《小烏龜們都驚呆了！她把我按到水龍頭下！》）

兩年后，我和杰夫結(jié)婚了，搬到了新澤西州的霍博肯，米妮則住在我的寫作工作室一張桌子上的一個玻璃缸里。我只要轉(zhuǎn)一轉(zhuǎn)身就能看到它。

我和杰夫有了孩子之后，我得了一種罕見的血液失調(diào)癥，生命垂危。我在醫(yī)院住了三個月，出院后在家繼續(xù)躺了六個月。杰夫每天早上都會把我們的兒子抱進來，放在我的床邊，好讓我可以抱抱他，跟他玩耍。有一天，他把米妮也帶了進來，用毛巾墊著，放我床上了。

一天下午，杰夫不在家，我們的兒子也上學去了，我聽見我的辦公室里有一陣吵雜聲。當我走進辦公室時，米妮不動了，我拿起它，它的雙腿從我手上難看地耷拉下來。我抽泣著，把它捧到后院。我想把它葬在那兒，這樣它就能一直陪在我左右，可是地面太硬了，我挖到四英寸深就再也挖不下去了，這樣的深度僅僅夠覆蓋它的外殼。更糟的是，天下起雨來，一點點地把我浸濕。我幻想著米妮的骨頭從地上漂浮起來，就像史蒂芬·金的小說《寵物公墓》里的場景一樣。

于是我用毛巾把它包好，跑了兩個街區(qū)把它送到寵物醫(yī)院，到達時我已一身泥巴，淚流滿面，那里的工作人員輕輕地從我的手中接過它。

我十分悲痛。當然，我傷心極了。然而，當我告訴人們我多么想念它、沒有它在我的辦公室里我無法寫作時，他們并不理解。

“它就像是一塊寵物石頭，”我母親說。“你哪能想念一塊石頭呢？”

人們會跟我講述他們死去的貓貓和狗狗的事情，而我想，寵愛那些漂亮的、正常的寵物多么容易啊?？墒悄切釔坌缕娴?、不尋常的、古怪動物的天賦能力呢？（難道就不值得一提嗎？）

我深感我永遠無法將它忘懷。有一天，我回到家，看見杰夫笑嘻嘻地看著我?！叭ツ愕霓k公室看看吧，”他說。

我們一起走上樓去，一幅米妮的畫作掛在墻上，畫中的它在我們家的木地板上爬著，面朝一個打開的門口，愉悅地高舉著頭。

我看著杰夫，驚喜萬分。一位當上了畫家的高中老朋友，把米妮畫在了油畫布上，杰夫把這幅肖像掛在墻上，距離米妮之前住的玻璃缸只有幾英寸之遙。

最近，我起身走去辦公室工作，我思索著，有一陣子，自己在愛情方面所遭遇的不幸。我不能再適應以往的生活，適應度比米妮對它那小小的寵物缸還要差。我記得前男友對我說，他想要一個正常一些的女朋友。

接著，我朝大廳的那一頭望去，看見我的丈夫正朝著我神采飛揚地招手，我凝視著墻壁，米妮的畫像就掛在那里。一只奇怪的小生物。不尋常。古古怪怪。卻一直被深深地寵愛著。