Brian Rea
I don’t remember his last name. His first name was Brad, which is the perfect name for a relatively faceless memory from your early 20s. He was handsome, with a nice smile and startlingly blue eyes.
他姓什么我不记得了。他叫布拉德(Brad)，这名字跟来自二十出头年纪的斑驳记忆十分契合。他很帅，有着亲切的笑容和极蓝的眼睛。
I had always thought that when the eyes got too blue it looked like a person had no soul. You’re seeing too deeply into their head, and there’s nothing back there. But I had never dated anyone with blue eyes, and it was springtime. Brad also had a nice body, muscled, but with extremely soft skin. And the sex was good, I think.
当年我一直觉得那双眼睛蓝得过了头，使人看上去像是没有灵魂。你一眼就能望进他们的脑海深处，那里空洞无物。但我此前从未和任何有一双蓝眼睛的人约会过，再说那时春光明媚。布拉德还有健美的身体，满身肌肉，但皮肤柔软至极。而且他在床上也不错，我是这么觉得的。
There is a great debate among straight women and gay men as to what counts as sex. Most of my female friends think oral sex doesn’t count. I disagree. I count it all. If someone has an orgasm, I count it. My female friends also hold a deeper misunderstanding that anal sex, for gay men, is like a handshake. News flash, ladies: Sometimes we don’t want to do it with our dates just as much as you don’t want to do it with yours.
关于什么才是真正的性交，在直女和男同性恋者中间有着热烈的讨论。我的大多数女性友人都认为口交不能算。对此我不敢苟同。我认为所有的一切都应作数。如果一个人达到了高潮，那就是性交。我的女性友人们还有一个更深的误解：对男同性恋者来说，肛交就像握手。快讯插播，女士们：我们和你们一样，有时候并不想和约会对象上床。
This was only my second date with Brad. We didn’t know each other well. We never would. His haircut was fussy and his hands were a little feminine, but his cologne was appealing. I was 22 and hadn’t been on many dates, so this was one of my first forays into courtship. A bonus: He lived just blocks away from me in Astoria.
那是我和布拉德的第二次约会。我们还不太了解彼此。其实我们一直也没能好好了解彼此。他的发型过于精致，他的手有些女性化，但他的香水气味很吸引人。我当时只有22岁，约会经验不多，这是我最早尝试求爱的经历之一。一个附带的好处是：他住的地方和我在阿斯托里亚的住处只隔着几个街区。
If you have ever lived in Astoria, Queens, you know that getting people to go there at the end of the night is like asking a stranger for a ride to the airport. Brad was going to do for now. I was young and dating and independent, and I had highlights in my hair.
如果在皇后区阿斯托里亚住过，你一定知道，让人在深夜时分到那儿去，就如同让陌生人顺便载你到机场。在当时，布拉德就算还行吧。当年的我很年轻，正处在找人约会的阶段，已经独立，挑染了头发。
The conversation at dinner was dull but he laughed at almost everything I said, so for a comedy narcissist like me, he was an ideal companion. As we ate, my Nokia flip phone started ringing. It was my sister, Julie.
晚餐期间的谈话颇为无聊，但无论我说什么，他几乎都会笑，因此对我这样一个自以为很会讲笑话的人来说，他是理想的同伴。吃饭时，我的诺基亚翻盖手机响了起来。来电者是我的姐姐茱莉(Julie)。
I declined the call. My phone was new and I was still getting used to it. I didn’t love that people could reach me whenever they wanted. I preferred calling my answering service, which made me feel like an old-time movie star. My father had shown me Doris Day movies when I was young, and she was always checking her service for messages from suitors or Hollywood producers.
我拒接了。手机是新买的，我对它还不太习惯。我不喜欢别人不论什么时候想要联系我就能联系到我。我更喜欢使用电话录音服务，这让我觉得自己像旧时的电影明星。我小的时候，父亲给我放过多丽丝·戴(Doris Day)演的电影，她总是使用这项服务，查询来自求婚者或好莱坞制作人的讯息。
After dinner we went to a gay bar packed with other gay people on dates, because what’s more fun than trying not to look like you’re checking out other people while learning about your date’s siblings?
晚餐过后，我们去了一个挤满正在约会的同性恋人士的同志酒吧——一边竭力显出不关注其他人的样子，一边了解约会对象的兄弟姐妹，还有什么能比这更有趣？
Brad and I drank our Cosmos (it was 2001, and if Carrie Bradshaw was doing it, so was I) until his eyes looked less soulless and we started kissing.
我和布拉德喝了大都会鸡尾酒（那是2001年，凯莉·布雷肖[Carrie Bradshaw]在做什么，我就在做什么），直到他的眼睛看上去不那么没有灵魂，然后我们开始接吻。
My phone vibrated again. Different sister. Becky. I ignored it.
我的手机再次震动。是另一个姐妹贝基(Becky)打来的。我没理会。
Another round, more making out, another call, Julie again. My drunkenness, mixed with my desire to be present for Brad, made the calls easy to dismiss. Our making out turned a corner — we were now prone on a banquette — and I had just enough sense left to suggest a cab.
又喝了一轮，更多的亲吻，又一个电话打进来，还是茱莉。我醉醺醺的，再加上渴望和布拉德在一起，很容易就忽略了那些电话。亲吻升了级——我们伏卧在长条软椅上——我靠着仅余的一丝理智，建议叫一辆出租车。
Feeling like a high roller, I offered to pay. En route to Astoria there was more groping, more kissing, more picturing him as Paul Walker. At my apartment we went straight to the bedroom. It lasted longer than it needed to. And then there was the cuddling and holding and sweating and panic and the falling asleep next to a basic stranger and waking up and thinking: “Do I like this?” “Does he like this?”
我像一个挥金如土的人一样，主动要求付账。去往阿斯托里亚途中，有了更多的触摸和亲吻，我愈发觉得他像保罗·沃克(Paul Walker)了。抵达我的公寓后，我们直奔卧室。它持续的时间多于必要。随后是搂搂抱抱，是烦躁和惶恐，是在一个自己基本不了解的人身旁睡去，醒来时不禁自问：“我喜欢这样吗？”“他喜欢这样吗？”
I excused myself to use the bathroom and opened my phone again. Six more missed calls. My stomach dropped. I was now sober enough to know that something was very wrong.
我跟他说我要去卫生间，随后再次打开手机。又有六个未接电话。我的心一沉。我现在足够清醒，知道事情非常不对劲。
I started listening. Julie was in hysterics. Something about my dad falling and an ambulance. In the next message, Becky was calmer but shaken. A heart attack or stroke, they weren’t sure. Next: My mom telling me not to panic. Next: Julie telling me to panic.
我开始收听讯息。茱莉显得歇斯底里。说的是我父亲跌倒在地，以及救护车之类。下一条讯息里，贝基较为冷静，但声音有些抖。父亲犯了心脏病，或者中风了，她们不能确定。接下来：我母亲告诉我不要惊慌。再接下来：茱莉告诉我情况让人惊慌。
I skipped to the last message, from Doug, my kind-of brother-in-law (they hadn’t married), from just 15 minutes earlier.
我跳至最新一条信息，那是我的准姐夫道格(Doug)15分钟前发来的（他们当时尚未结婚）。
I called; he answered immediately.
我拨通电话；他立即接了起来。
During my niece’s first birthday party, my dad had collapsed after handing off the hamburgers he had been grilling. The party was at my parents’ house, though my dad wasn’t living there. My parents were divorcing and my father, at 61, had moved into a depressing bachelor pad near his office.
参加我外甥女的一岁生日派对时，我父亲把自己焗烤的汉堡交给其他人负责，然后倒地。派对是在我父母的房子里办的，不过父亲不住在那里。我的父母当时正在闹离婚，61岁的父亲搬进了他办公室附近的一套散发着压抑气息的单身公寓。
The last time I was home, a month earlier, I had visited him with my youngest sister, Natalie. The walls were beige and so was the carpet. The furniture he had picked out was too large and too dark. The place was filled with stuff, yet looked empty.
一个月前我最后一次回到家乡时，和最小的妹妹纳塔莉(Natalie)一起去探望了他。墙壁和地毯都是米色的。他挑选的家具块头过大，颜色过暗。屋子里塞满了物件，看上去却依然空空荡荡。
He was trying to make it a home but didn’t know how. I went into his bathroom to cry. I didn’t want him to see me feeling sorry for him. He didn’t belong there; he belonged in his home.
他竭力把它变成一个家，但却不得其法。我走进卫生间，哭了起来。我不想让他看到我为他难过。他不属于那里；他属于他自己的家。
I pulled myself together, and we ate sandwiches. He put out the plates and napkins and a canister of Pringles. When he opened his kitchen cupboard, I saw that it was stocked with canned stew. I had to clench my jaw to keep from crying again.
我整理好情绪，我们吃了三明治。他拿出盘子、餐巾以及一罐品客薯片(Pringles)。当他打开厨房的柜子时，我看到里面塞满了肉汤罐头。我不得不握紧拳头，以免再次哭出来。
After dinner we watched TV.
晚饭后我们开始看电视。
“I want you to feel at home here,” he told us.
“我希望你们觉得像在家里一样，”他对我们说。
“I should stay here the next time I visit,” I said, which seemed to make him happy.
“下次来的时候我应该在这儿过夜，”我说。这话似乎让他挺高兴。
When Natalie and I left, my dad was standing at the top of the stairs. I turned and yelled up, “I love you, Dad.” It was the last thing I said to him.
我和纳塔莉离开时，父亲站在楼梯顶部目送我们。我回头高声说，“我爱你，爸爸。”那是我跟他说的最后一句话。
“I love you, Andy.”
“我爱你，安迪(Andy)。”
And that was it.
一切就此戛然而止。
Doug had tried to do CPR. The paramedics had used the paddles to get a weak pulse. Now my father was in a coma.
道格竭力给我父亲做了心肺复苏。医护人员借助电击板让他有了微弱的脉搏。现在他处于昏迷之中。
I imagined the scene: the party decorations, the yard full of toys, the deck where he fell, the potted plants my mom put out every spring, my mom crying, my sisters crying, the uneaten hamburgers, the little girl’s birthday cake.
我想象着那景象：派对装饰品，满是玩具的院子，父亲摔倒时所在的平台，母亲每个春天都会摆出来的盆栽植物，母亲的哭声，姐妹们的哭声，没吃的汉堡，小女孩的生日蛋糕。
It was all too much. I started to cry. Loudly.
这一切太令人难过。我开始哭泣。声音很大。
Brad came out to see what was wrong. His hair was mussed and he was completely nude. He stood in front of me, his semi-erect penis at eye level, while I tried to get more information from Doug: What hospital? Should I get on a plane?
布拉德走了过来，想要弄清是怎么回事。他的头发乱糟糟的，身上不着一缕。他站在我面前，半勃起的阴茎与我的眼睛齐平，而我正竭力从道格处获得更多信息：父亲在哪家医院？我应该坐飞机过去吗？
I gestured for Brad to sit down. He started rubbing my back, which felt like torture. I was embarrassed about crying in front of him but didn’t care enough to stop.
我示意布拉德坐下。他开始摩挲我的后背，我觉得那像是一种折磨。在他面前哭泣我挺尴尬的，但还没有在意到要停下来的程度。
After I hung up, he tried to hug me. “What happened?”
我止住哭泣后，他试图拥抱我。“发生了什么事？”
I wanted to shout: “Clearly nothing good! Put on some pants!” Instead, I tried to explain.
我想要高喊：“显然不是什么好事！你赶紧穿上裤子吧！”但我没有，而是试图向他解释。
As Brad paced the apartment, still naked, suggesting plans of action, I felt a growing sense of disgust. I didn’t even like this guy. Why did I have sex with him? Everything seemed wrong. The apartment seemed cramped and dirty. I hated everything inside of it. I caught myself in the mirror and cringed at my dyed blonde hair. Why did I do that to myself? I looked like a fool.
当布拉德依然裸着身体在公寓里走来走去，就应该如何应对做出建议时，一种越来越强的厌恶感在我内心升起。我甚至都不喜欢这个人。我为什么要和他上床？每件事似乎都不对。公寓看上去狭小而又肮脏。我憎恨屋子里的一切。我瞥见镜中的自己，对染成金色的头发感到厌恶。我为什么要这样对待自己？我看上去像一个傻瓜。
I told Brad he should go, that I needed to make some calls. He sat and put his arm around me. “You shouldn’t be alone right now,” he said, kissing my neck.
我告诉布拉德他该走了，我需要打一些电话。“你现在不该一个人待着，”他一边说，一边亲吻我的脖颈。
I leaned into him. I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t want to be where I was. Everything felt off. Is this how my father felt in that sad apartment? Like everything was off?
我靠进他怀里。我不想独自一人。我不想待在这个地方。一切都不对劲。父亲待在那套糟透了的公寓里的时候，也有这种感觉吧？是不是也觉得一切都不对劲？
I kissed Brad lightly. “I really need you to leave.”
我轻轻地吻了布拉德。“我真的需要你离开。”
He looked hurt, but he stood up when I did. Then he hugged me for way too long.
他看上去有些受伤，但当我站起身的时候，他也站了起来。然后他过长时间地拥抱了我。
“O.K.!” I said. “Goodbye!” I walked into the bathroom and locked the door. I stared out the window listening to him get dressed. Then I heard the front door shut. He was finally gone.
“好了！”我说。“再见！”我走进卫生间，锁上门。我望着窗外，听见他穿起衣服的声音。接着我听到前门被关上了。他终于走了。
Within a few days, my father was gone too.
几天后，我父亲也走了。
Over the following months, Brad sent me text messages and a voice mail message that went unanswered. I had too much to sort out. And I was embarrassed, I suppose.
接下来的几个月里，布拉德给我发来短信以及一条语音讯息，但我并未回复。我有太多事要处理。而且我想我也有些不好意思。
About two years later, Brad walked past me on Ninth Avenue. We almost stopped but only nodded at each other, smiled awkwardly and kept going. I felt like I owed him an explanation, some ending to our story, but I just couldn’t do it. I had to keep moving forward.
大约两年后，在第九大道上，布拉德从我身边经过。我们几乎就要停下脚步，但只是彼此点头示意，尴尬地笑笑，便继续朝前走。我觉得自己应该给他一个解释，给我们的故事画上一个句号，但我无法做到。我只能继续朝前走。
I had straightened out much of what felt so wrong that night. I now had a job I was proud of, an apartment I was proud of. I had buried my father and in doing so had buried that whole chapter of my life. Which meant there could be no Brad, no trace of that time, of that night.
我已经对那天晚上自己觉得不对劲的很多事情进行了纠正。我现在有一份让自己引以为傲的工作，一套让自己引以为傲的公寓。我已经埋葬了父亲，由此也埋葬了自己的一整段人生。这意味着根本就没有布拉德，也没有关于那段时间以及那个晚上的蛛丝马迹。
It wasn’t generous of me, or kind, but that’s what I did. Most importantly, I never got highlights again.
我的表现不够大度或友善，但我当时就是这样行事的。最重要的是，我后来再也没挑染过头发。
本文作者Andrew Rannells是一名演员，在HBO的《都市女孩》的六季剧集中扮演Elijah一角；他正在写一本散文集。
翻译：纽约时报中文网
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