The Ninth Tuesday

第九个星期二

We Talk About How Love Goes On

我们聊了聊爱如何继续

The leaves had begun to change color, turning the ride through West Newton into a portrait of gold and rust.

树叶开始变色，把通往西牛顿的路变成一条金棕色的大道。

Back in Detroit, the labor war had stagnated, with each side accusing the other of failing to communicate.

说回底特律，伴随着双方互相指责对方的无效沟通，罢工大战陷入停滞。

The stories on the TV news were just as depressing.

电视新闻上的事情也同样令人沮丧。

In rural Kentucky, three men threw pieces of a tombstone off a bridge, smashing the windshield of a passing car, killing a teenage girl who was traveling with her family on a religious pilgrimage.

在肯塔基州的某个郊区，三个男人把墓碑碎片扔到了桥下，砸碎了一辆路过汽车的挡风玻璃，砸死了车里的一个少女，而她正在和家人去往朝圣的路上。

In California, the O. J. Simpson trial was heading toward a conclusion, and the whole country seemed to be obsessed.

在加利福尼亚州，O.J. 辛普森一案的审判正走向结尾，全国上下都对这一案件痴迷了。

Even in airports, there were hanging TV sets tuned to CNN so that you could get an O.J. update as you made your way to a gate.

甚至在机场，吊顶电视也被设置到CNN电视台以便于你在走出机场大门的那几步都能看到O.J.辛普森案的最新进展。

I had tried calling my brother in Spain several times.

我试着给我在西班牙的弟弟打了好几次电话。

I left messages saying that I really wanted to talk to him, that I had been doing a lot of thinking about us.

我给他留言说我真的很想跟他聊聊，因为思考了很多关于我们的事情。

A few weeks later, I got back a short message saying everything was okay, but he was sorry, he really didn't feel like talking about being sick.

几个星期以后，我收到了一条简短的消息说他一切都好，但是很抱歉他真的感觉不想聊他生病的事情。

For my old professor, it was not the talk of being sick but the being sick itself that was sinking him.

对于我那老教授来说，倒不是谈论生病这件事让他颓丧，而是生病这件事本身。

Since my last visit, a nurse had inserted a catheter into his penis, which drew the urine out through a tube and into a bag that sat at the foot of his chair.

在我上次拜访之后，护士给莫瑞的生殖器插了导尿管，把尿液通过一个导管引流到放在莫瑞轮椅脚边的一个袋子里。

His legs needed constant tending (he could still feel pain, even though he could not move them, another one of ALS's cruel little ironies), and unless his feet dangled just the right number of inches off the foam pads, it felt as if someone were poking him with a fork.

他的腿也需要不断的照料（即便双腿无法动弹，他却仍然能感觉到疼痛，又一个渐冻症残酷的小小嘲讽），并且除非他的腿正确的垂放在泡沫垫旁边刚好那几英寸的位置，否则就会感觉像是有人在拿餐叉戳他一样。

In the middle of conversations, Morrie would have to ask visitors to lift his foot and move it just an inch, or to adjust his head so that it fit more easily into the palm of the colored pillows.

在谈话中途，莫瑞得时不时请求来访者把他的腿抬起来挪动那刚刚好的一英寸，或者把他的头调整一下使他能更容易嵌进彩色枕头的中心。

Can you imagine being unable to move your own head?

你能想象连头都无法动弹吗？

With each visit, Morrie seemed to be melting into his chair, his spine taking on its shape.

每次拜访，莫瑞都似乎在融化进他的椅子里，只剩脊椎支撑着他的身形。

Still, every morning he insisted on being lifted from his bed and wheeled to his study, deposited there among his books and papers and the hibiscus plant on the windowsill.

不过仍然，每天早上他都坚持要被从床上抬起来然后要被推进书房，要被放在他的书、文件和窗沿上的木槿花之间。

In typical fashion, he found something philosophical in this.

以一贯的方式，他从中发现了一些有哲学意味的事情。

" I sum it up in my newest aphorism," he said.

“我总结成了我最新的格言警句，”他说

Let me hear it.

说来听听。

" When you're in bed, you're dead."

“当你卧床的时候，你就死了。”

He smiled.

他笑了。

Only Morrie could smile at something like that.

也只有莫瑞能对这种事情笑得出来。

He had been getting calls from the "Nightline" people and from Ted Koppel himself.

他一直接到来自“晚间热线”节目组那边的人的电话以及主持人泰德•科佩尔本人的电话。

" They want to come and do another show with me," he said.

“他们想过来和我再做一期节目，”莫瑞说。

" But they say they want to wait."

“但是他们又说想先等等。”

Until what? You're on your last breath?

等到什么时候？等到你只剩最后一口气吗？

" Maybe. Anyhow, I'm not so far away."

“可能吧。不管怎么样，我离只剩最后一口气也不远了。”

Don't say that.

别这么说。

" I'm sorry."

“抱歉。”

That bugs me, that they want to wait until you wither.

节目组要等着直到你衰弱下去，这让我很心烦。

" It bugs you because you look out for me."

“这会让你心烦是因为你关心我。”

He smiled.

他微笑着。

" Mitch, maybe they are using me for a little drama. That's okay. Maybe I'm using them, too. They help me get my message to millions of people. I couldn't do that without them, right? So it's a compromise."

“米契，或许他们为了一点戏剧性在利用我。但没有关系。或许我也在利用他们。他们帮助我向千百万人传达了我的信息。没有他们我也做不到这点，不是吗？所以这是双方的相互妥协。”

He coughed, which turned into a long-drawn-out gargle, ending with another glob into a crushed tissue.

他咳嗽起来，然后长长的漱口，最终吐了一口在破烂的纸巾里。

" Anyhow," Morrie said, "I told them they better not wait too long, because my voice won't be there. Once this thing hits my lungs, talking may become impossible. I can't speak for too long without needing a rest now. I have already canceled a lot of the people who want to see me. Mitch, there are so many. But I'm too fatigued. If I can't give them the right attention, I can't help them."

“不管怎样，”莫瑞接着说，“我告诉他们最好不要等太久，因为太久之后我可能发不出声音了。一旦这个疾病袭击了我的肺，可能连讲话都不可能了。现在如果没有休息我也不能说话太久。我已经和很多想见我的人取消了约定。米契，太多人想见我了。可是我太疲惫了。如果我不能给这些人应有的关注，那我也帮不了他们。”

I looked at the tape recorder, feeling guilty, as if l were stealing what was left of his precious speaking time.

我看着录音机，感到很愧疚，好像我在偷走他仅剩的宝贵的能够说话的时间。

" Should we skip it? I asked.

“要不我们今天的会面就跳过吧？”我询问。

" Will it make you too tired?"

“这会不会让你太累了？”

Morrie shut his eyes and shook his head.

莫瑞闭上了眼睛摇了摇头。

He seemed to be waiting for some silent pain to pass.

他似乎是在等待无声的疼痛过去。

" No," he finally said.

“不用取消，”他最终说道。

" You and I have to go on."

“我和你还是得继续。”

" This is our last thesis together, you know."

“这是我们在一起做的最后一个论文了，你明白的。”

Our last thesis.

我们最后一个论文。

" We want to get it right."

“我们希望能把这篇论文做好。”

I thought about our first thesis together, in college.

我想起了在大学里我们一起做的第一篇论文。

It was Morrie's idea, of course.

当然那次主要也是莫瑞的想法。

He told me I was good enough to write an honors project —— something I had never considered.

他告诉我我已经足够好可以去写荣誉论文了——一件我从来没考虑过的事。

Now here we were, doing the same thing once more.

而现在我们在这里再一次做着相同的事。

Starting with an idea.

从一个想法开始做起。

Dying man talks to living man, tells him what he should know.

濒死之人对话生存之人，告诉他一些他应该知道的东西。

This time, I was in less of a hurry to finish.

只不过这次，我并不急着完成。

" Someone asked me an interesting question yesterday," Morrie said now, looking over my shoulder at the wallhanging behind me, a quilt of hopeful messages that friends had stitched for him on his seventieth birthday.

“昨天有个人问我了一个有意思的问题，”莫瑞现在说着话，一边越过我的肩膀看着我身后的壁挂毯，那是在他70岁生日时一个朋友缝的写满祝福消息的毯子。

Each patch on the quilt had a different message: STAY THE COURSE, THE BEST IS YET TO BE, MORRIE —— ALWAYS NO. 1 IN MENTAL HEALTH!

壁挂毯的每一块都有一个不同的信息：坚持到底，最好的还没来，莫瑞——精神健康领域永远的第一！

What was the question? I asked.

昨天那人的问题是什么？我问道。

" If I worried about being forgotten after I died?"

“我是否担忧死后被忘记？”

Well? Do you?

那么，你会担忧吗？

" I don't think I will be. l've got so many people who have been involved with me in close, intimate ways. And love is how you stay alive, even after you are gone."

“不会。已经有这么多人曾和我有密切关联。而且爱是你如何保持生生不息，即便你已经离开人世。”

Sounds like a song lyric —— "love is how you stay alive."

听起来像一首歌的歌词——“爱是你如何生生不息”

Morrie chuckled.

莫瑞低声笑了。

"Maybe. But, Mitch, all this talk that we're doing? Do you ever hear my voice sometimes when you're back home? When you're all alone? Maybe on the plane? Maybe in your car?"

“或许吧。不过米契，所有这些我们正在进行的谈话，当你回家的时候有没有偶尔听到我的声音？在你独自一人的时候？或者在飞机上？或者在你的车里？”

Yes, I admitted.

是的，会听到，我承认。

" Then you will not forget me after I'm gone. Think of my voice and I'll be there."

“那么在我死后你一定不会忘记我。想到我的声音我即在场。”

Think of your voice.

想起你的声音。

" And if you want to cry a little, it's okay."

“而且假如你还有点想哭，也没啥问题。”

Morrie. He had wanted to make me cry since I was a freshman.

莫瑞。在我还是大一新生的时候他就希望把我弄哭。

" One of these days, I'm gonna get to you," he would say.

“总有一天，我会成功让你哭泣的，”他会这么说。

Yeah, yeah, I would answer.

行吧，行吧，你会，我会这样回答。

" I decided what I wanted on my tombstone," he said.

“我决定好了想在我的墓碑上写什么，”他说。

I don't want to hear about tombstones.

我不想听到关于墓碑的事情。

" Why? They make you nervous?"

“为什么？墓碑会让你紧张吗？”

I shrugged.

我耸了耸肩。

" We can forget it."

“那我们就不聊这事了。”

No, go ahead. What did you decide?

不，还是聊吧。你决定好写什么了？

Morrie popped his lips.

莫瑞啧的抿了一下嘴唇。

"I was thinking of this: A Teacher to the Last."

“我在想的是这句话：一日为师，终生为师。”

He waited while I absorbed it.

他等待着我消化这些信息。

A Teacher to the Last.

一日为师，终生为师。

" Good?" he said.

“这句好吗？”他说。

Yes, I said. Very good.

是的，我回答。非常好。

原著：Mitch Albom