In March, my family reunited for a weekend in Sacramento1, where I grew up, to celebrate my mother’s 80th birthday. The city had turned green after a period of torrential rain and storms. In the fields around the airport, buttercups2 and poppies bloomed. The native grasses, usually torched stiff by the unrelenting sun, were a lush emerald.
3月,我們?nèi)引R聚薩克拉門托共度周末,為我母親慶祝80大壽。這座我生長于斯的城市在連日暴雨之后已然一片新綠。機場周邊的原野上,毛茛與罌粟花競相綻放,平日里被驕陽烤得干硬的野草也舒展為一片絨毯般的青翠。
I knew climate change caused this verdant hallelujah3, and yet, I was enraptured4. As I drove in my mother’s car along I-80, an unfamiliar feeling stirred in me—affection for a landscape that I’d long found bleak, especially after I’d lost my father here years ago. Seeing Sacramento anew made me see my memories of this place through fresh eyes, and, unexpectedly, I felt connected again to my father.
我知道,這般青翠欲滴的景象不過是氣候變化使然,卻仍為之沉醉。當我駕駛母親的車行駛在80號州際公路時,一種陌生的情愫在胸中涌動——一直以來感覺這片土地荒涼,特別是多年前在此失去父親后更覺蕭索,此刻竟對它萌生眷戀。再次看到薩克拉門托,我對此地塵封的記憶煥然一新,猝不及防間,我又對父親產(chǎn)生了親近感。
Until I was 18, I lived on the edge of the city, near the foothills of the Sierra5, in a suburb that at the time slanted6 politically right while my parents slanted left, where most mothers stayed home while my mother worked. Families in our neighborhood, built on the remnants of orange orchards, had second houses on Lake Tahoe7.
18歲前,我住在內(nèi)華達山脈山麓下的市郊。此處政治傾向偏右,而我父母偏左,當?shù)刂鲖D大多閑居家中,唯有母親外出工作。我們的社區(qū)建在廢棄的橙園,每家每戶都在太浩湖畔置有度假屋。
My family saved its money for trips to the remote islands of Vanuatu8 in the Pacific, France and Ireland, voyages organized by my father. A history aficionado9, he rose every morning at 5 a.m. to read before my brother and I woke up. He was decades older than the other dads, an Irish-Catholic civil servant, and a devoted Democrat. The antithesis of California cool, he wore suit pants with tropical shirts and tennis shoes. When he wasn’t in his office in the state Capitol, he was with my brother and me. He took us on excursions to Gold Rush10 towns, bribed us with doughnuts to watch World War II newsreels at the local airbase, and pulled the car over whenever we passed a historic plaque.
我們?nèi)沂〕詢€用,只為奔赴父親精心策劃的遠行——前往太平洋深處的瓦努阿圖群島、法國與愛爾蘭。這位歷史迷每日清晨五點即起,趕在我和弟弟醒來前獨享書香。他比其他孩子的父親年長幾十歲,是一名愛爾蘭裔天主教公務(wù)員,也是民主黨的忠實擁躉。與加州人的灑脫氣質(zhì)截然不同,他總是穿著西褲,配上熱帶風(fēng)格的襯衫和網(wǎng)球鞋。不在州議會大廈辦公時,他便陪著我們姐弟倆,帶我們?nèi)ツ切┨越鹦℃?zhèn)游玩,用甜甜圈哄我們?nèi)ギ數(shù)乜哲娀赜^看二戰(zhàn)新聞紀錄片,但凡路過某個歷史紀念牌,必定停車駐足一番。
Like him, probably because of him, my imagination favored the past. Summer afternoons, I dressed in an ankle-long skirt, slung a fake rifle over my shoulder, and headed into the backyard to hunt for dinner or navigate a raft over the treacherous waters of the swimming pool.
或許是受他熏陶,我也對往昔歲月情有獨鐘。夏日午后,我會身穿及踝長裙,肩挎玩具步槍,走進后院為晚餐“捕食”,或者在游泳池的“驚濤駭浪”中劃著木筏探險。
As I grew, so did Sacramento. The suburbs bulldozed their way11 past our house, felling the oak trees, cluttering the foothills with strip malls, car dealerships and lookalike housing developments. This grieved my father, and it grieved me too. I remember a conversation in a restaurant near Truckee on a day trip to see the snow. “Soon enough,” my father said, “it’ll be one town from here to L.A.”
隨著我的成長,薩克拉門托也在不斷擴張。市郊的拓展勢如破竹,推土機碾過我家門前的橡樹林,在山麓間建起了鱗次櫛比的商業(yè)街、汽車4S店與千篇一律的住宅區(qū)。這令父親痛心不已,也讓我感到難過。記得有一次去特拉基觀雪,我們在附近一家餐館聊了起來。他說道:“要不了多久,從這兒到洛杉磯就連成一座城鎮(zhèn)了?!?/p>
Although he was 57 and I was 16, we shared the same nostalgia. This was also the year that my father’s health started to fail, months of strange physical symptoms and medical tests that showed nothing. I dreamed about his death over and over, and then it came. On his birthday, I drove over the hill to our house and saw an ambulance on the curb, my father on the lawn, ringed by paramedics. His heart had stopped. Over the next two years, my sadness over Sacramento became an ominous cloud. I left for college without looking back, and whenever I visited—alone, and later with my own family—I felt the ache of heartbreak.
盡管他已57歲,而我才16歲,我們卻有著相同的懷舊之情。也正是那一年,父親的健康狀況開始惡化,數(shù)月間他出現(xiàn)了各種奇怪的身體癥狀,而各項醫(yī)學(xué)檢查卻查不出任何問題。我反復(fù)夢見他的離世,直到噩夢成真。在他生日那天,我開車翻山越嶺回到家中,看見救護車停在路邊,父親躺在草坪上,四周圍著護理人員。他的心臟已經(jīng)停止了跳動。在接下來的兩年里,我對薩克拉門托的哀傷如同一片不祥的陰云。我頭也不回地負笈他鄉(xiāng),每次獨自歸來或再后來攜家?guī)Э谥卦L故地,心口仍會泛起陣痛。
But this year, at 50 years old, I found myself in some gorgeous apocalyptic12 bloom, full of tenderness for everything I saw. Life blazed between the gas stations and driveways—the oleanders13 bursting, palm trees cutting into a brilliant, smog-free sky. From my mother and stepfather’s deck, the American River14, usually a trickle on my visits home, rolled hard and wide and deep. A week before, the redwoods along the side of the deck had been cut down after dangerous winds almost toppled them onto the house, and the view was surprisingly clear. I love it here, I thought, watching turkey buzzards15 circle in the sky, then wondered why.
而今年,50歲的我仿佛置身于一片絢爛的末日繁花之中,對眼前的一切都充滿了溫柔的情愫。加油站與車道之間,夾竹桃怒放,棕櫚葉劃破澄澈無霾的碧空。從母親和繼父家的露臺上望去,美國河不再是我往日歸家時所見的涓涓細流,變得洶涌澎湃、寬廣深邃。露臺旁的紅杉樹由于在狂風(fēng)中差點砸到房屋,一周前被砍掉了,現(xiàn)在的視野出奇地開闊??粗乐薅d鷲在空中盤旋,我心想,我是深愛這里的,隨后又不禁自問,為什么呢?
In over three decades, I hadn’t once experienced this sense of being home. It was as if after all those years of drought, the rain had washed my pain away. Transforming grief doesn’t happen overnight; and I still miss my dad every Father’s Day. But this year’s blooms created an opening for me to embrace him—and Sacramento—again after locking so much of that happiness away.
30多年來,我從未有過這種“回家”的感覺。仿佛連年干旱后,暴雨終于滌凈了所有創(chuàng)痛。哀傷的轉(zhuǎn)化非朝夕之功,每逢父親節(jié)我依然思念難抑。但今年的繁花似錦為我創(chuàng)造了契機,讓我在長久封存了那些幸福記憶之后,能夠再次去擁抱父親,擁抱薩克拉門托。
For my mother’s birthday party, our family gathered in Old Sacramento for a river cruise. Walking to the boat with my daughters, past 19th-century storefronts, I was 10 years old again, time-traveling to a past of tule hut villages, miners panning in streams, bonneted women driving covered wagons.
為了慶祝母親的壽辰,我們?nèi)以谒_克拉門托老城相聚,開啟了一場河上游船之旅。當我和女兒們一道走向游船,經(jīng)過那些19世紀留下來的店鋪時,我仿佛穿越時光回到了10歲那年,那時的村舍是燈心草鋪就的,礦工們在溪水中淘金,戴著寬邊帽的婦女們趕著帶篷的馬車。
The smell of creosote as we crossed the train tracks filled my throat, then came the sultry smell of the river. The water’s surface, stirred by the rain, was brown and thick as a mud bank. We headed out in the boat, the speed whipping up a breeze. A herd of sea lions passed by. Sister Sledge16 belted out “We Are Family” from a speaker and my daughters beckoned me to dance. Joining them, I imagined my father on a bench, a book in his lap, watching us. That girl he raised was still in me, I thought, still able to bring back what was gone.
跨過鐵軌時,一股濃烈的木焦油味道嗆滿喉嚨,緊接著便是河畔特有的悶熱潮氣。被雨水攪渾的河面呈棕褐色,渾濁如泥。我們乘著小船出發(fā),疾行之下有微風(fēng)拂面。一群海獅悠然游過,斯萊奇姐妹的《我們是一家人》在揚聲器中回蕩,女兒們招呼我一起跳舞。加入其中的時候,我恍惚看見父親坐在長椅上,膝頭放著書,在一旁注視著我們。我想,那個被他撫養(yǎng)長大的女孩仍存留于我的內(nèi)心,依然能夠喚回那些逝去的時光。
(譯者為“《英語世界》杯”翻譯大賽獲獎?wù)撸?/p>
1美國加利福尼亞州北部內(nèi)陸港市,州首府。" 2 buttercup毛茛(野生植物,開杯狀有光澤的小黃花)。" 3 hallelujah哈利路亞(用于宗教唱誦和禱詞中,意為贊美和感謝上帝),此處與verdant連用,喻指植物蒼翠繁盛之象。" 4 enrapture使人著迷、陶醉。
5 sierra(尤指南北美洲和西班牙的)鋸齒狀山嶺。文中特指內(nèi)華達山脈(the Sierra Nevada)。" 6 slant傾斜,偏向某一邊。" 7又譯作塔霍湖,位于美國加利福尼亞州和內(nèi)華達州邊界,是北美最大的高山湖泊。" 8南太平洋的一個島國,位于澳大利亞東北部。" 9 aficionado狂熱愛好者。" 10 Gold Rush淘金熱。通常特指始自1849年、貫穿19世紀50年代,在美國加利福尼亞發(fā)現(xiàn)大量黃金儲量后的淘金浪潮。
11 bulldoze one’s way以不可阻擋的方式做某事。
12 apocalyptic預(yù)示大災(zāi)難的,預(yù)言世界末日的。" 13 oleander夾竹桃。" 14美國河是加利福尼亞州最長的河流薩克拉門托河(Sacramento River)的支流。" 15 turkey buzzard美洲禿鷲。
16 美國費城一個音樂組合,組建于1971年。《我們是一家人》是其代表作。