By Rhonda
Lucas
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朗达·卢卡斯著
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My parents’ divorce was
final.
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父母离婚，无可挽回。
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The house had been sold and the
day had come to move.
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房子卖后，搬家的日子到了。
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Thirty years of the family’s
life was now crammed into the garage.
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同一屋檐下，悠悠三十年，这段生活，现已塞入车库。
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The two-by-fours that ran the
length of the walls were the only uniformity among the clutter of
boxes, furniture, and memories.
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里面乱堆着箱子、家具和回忆，只有二乘四木方，两头顶着墙，整整齐齐。
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All was frozen in limbo between
the life just passed and the one to come.
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之前的生活刚刚过去，之后的生活还没到来，一切都停止在两者之间，进退两难。
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The sunlight pushing its way
through the window splattered against a barricade of
boxes.
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窗中透过的阳光，洒落在堆积如山的箱子上。
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Like a fluorescent river, it
streamed down the sides and flooded the cracks of the cold, cement
floor.
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阳光如水，流下箱边，灌满了冰冷水泥地的裂缝。
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I stood in the doorway between
the house and garage and wondered if the sunlight would ever again
penetrate the memories packed inside those boxes.
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我站在房子和车库之间的门廊里，不知阳光是否还会透过那些箱中塞着的回忆。
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For an instant, the cardboard
boxes appeared as tombstones, monuments to those
memories.
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有一瞬间，那些纸板箱，对于那些回忆，看起来就像是墓碑、纪念碑。
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The furnace in the corner, with
its huge tubular fingers reaching out and disappearing into the
wall, was unaware of the futility of trying to warm the empty
house.
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角落里的火炉，管道四出，没入墙中，挥舞巨爪，竭力使空屋暖和起来，却不知徒劳。
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The rhythmical whir of its
effort hummed the elegy for the memories boxed in front of
me.
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炉火呼呼作响，有板有眼，为我面前箱中的回忆哼着挽歌。
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I closed the door, sat down on
the step, and listened reverently.
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我关上门，席阶而坐，洗耳恭听。
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The feeling of loss transformed
the bad memories into not-so-bad, the not-so-bad memories into
good, and committed the good ones to my mind.
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失落感将糟糕的回忆，变得不那么糟糕，将不那么糟糕的回忆，变成美妙的回忆，将美妙的回忆，留在我心中。
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Still, I felt as vacant as the
house inside.
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可我还是觉得空虚，就像空荡荡的房子。
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A workbench to my right stood
disgustingly empty.
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右边有个工作台，空空如也，令人作呕。
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Not so much as a nail had been
left behind.
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但不如落下的钉子那么让人反胃。
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I noticed, for the first time,
what a dull, lifeless green it was.
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我才发现，它的绿多么黯然无光，了无生气。
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Lacking the disarray of tools
that used to cover it, now it seemed as out of place as a bathtub
in the kitchen.
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以前，工作台上，工具横七竖八，现在都不见了，所以工作台看起来摆错了地方，就像是放在厨房里的浴缸。
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In fact, as I scanned the room,
the only things that did seem to belong were the cobwebs in the
corners.
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实际上，察看房间时，看起来确实与之相称的，只有角落里的蜘蛛网。
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A group of boxes had been set
aside from the others and stacked in front of the
workbench.
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有几个箱子挪到了别处，堆放在工作台前。
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Scrawled like graffiti on the
walls of dilapidated buildings were the words “Salvation
Army.”
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破屋旧墙上，写着“救世军”几个字，字迹潦草，仿若涂鸦。
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Those words caught my eyes as
effectively as a flashing neon sign.
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这几个字，在我看来，就像霓虹闪烁，惊心夺目，
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They reeked of
irony.
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讽刺意味浓烈。
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“Salvation—was a bit too late
for this family,” I mumbled sarcastically to
myself.
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“对于这个家，拯救有点太晚了，”我咕哝着自嘲道。
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The houseful of furniture that
had once been so carefully chosen to complement and blend with the
color schemes of the various rooms was indiscriminately crammed
together against a single wall.
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满屋家具，都曾经过精挑细选，为的是完善并融入各个房间的配色方案，现在却不分青红皂白，塞在一起，靠在墙边。
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The uncoordinated colors
combined in turmoil and lashed out in the greyness of the
room.
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这些家具，色彩混杂，乱七八糟，很不协调，肆意堆积在灰色的房间里。
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I suddenly became aware of the
coldness of the garage, but I didn’t want to go back inside the
house, so I made my way through the boxes to the
couch.
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我突然意识到车库很冷，但不想回到屋内，所以我在成堆的箱子中开了一条路，走到了长沙发旁边。
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I cleared a space to lie down
and curled up, covering myself with my jacket.
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我清理出一片空隙，躺下缩成一团，用夹克盖在了身上。
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I hoped my father would return
soon with the truck so we could empty the garage and leave the
cryptic silence of parting lives behind.
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我希望父亲马上就会带着货车回来，这样我们就能清空车库，将这新旧生活过渡期间，神秘莫测的沉寂，抛在脑后。
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