The Giver 记忆传授人 作者:洛伊丝·劳里【8/22更新23章完结】_派派后花园

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[Novel] The Giver 记忆传授人 作者:洛伊丝·劳里【8/22更新23章完结】

刷新数据 楼层直达
寒烟柔。

ZxID:14225420


等级: 内阁元老
配偶: 逐烟霞。
你看着眼前的人,分明还是以前的模样,可心里终究不是以前那般澄清透明了。
举报 只看该作者 20楼  发表于: 2015-08-21 0
Chapter 19




Jonas glanced at the clock. There was so much work to be done, always, that he and The Giver seldom simply sat and talked, the way they just had.

"I'm sorry that I wasted so much time with my questions," Jonas said. "I was only asking about release because my father is releasing a new child today. A twin. He has to select one and release the other one. They do it by weight." Jonas glanced at the clock. "Actually, I suppose he's already finished. I think it was this morning."

The Giver's face took on a solemn look. "I wish they wouldn't do that," he said quietly, almost to himself.

"Well, they can't have two identical people around! Think how confusing it would be!" Jonas chuckled.

"I wish I could watch," he added, as an afterthought. He liked the thought of seeing his father perform the ceremony, and making the little twin clean and comfy. His father was such a gentle man.

"You can watch," The Giver said.

"No," Jonas told him. "They never let children watch. It's very private."

"Jonas," The Giver told him, "I know that you read your training instructions very carefully. Don't you remember that you are allowed to ask anyone anything?"

Jonas nodded. "Yes, but — "

"Jonas, when you and I have finished our time together, you will be the new Receiver. You can read the books; you'll have the memories. You have access to everything. It's part of your training. If you want to watch a release, you have simply to ask."

Jonas shrugged. "Well, maybe I will, then. But it's too late for this one. I'm sure it was this morning."

The Giver told him, then, something he had not known. "All private ceremonies are recorded. They're in the Hall of Closed Records. Do you want to see this morning's release?"

Jonas hesitated. He was afraid that his father wouldn't like it, if he watched something so private.

"I think you should," The Giver told him firmly.

"All right, then," Jonas said. "Tell me how."

The Giver rose from his chair, went to the speaker on the wall, and clicked the switch from OFF to ON.

The voice spoke immediately. "Yes, Receiver. How may I help you?"

"I would like to see this morning's release of the twin."

"One moment, Receiver. Thank you for your instructions."

Jonas watched the video screen above the row of switches. Its blank face began to flicker with zig-zag lines; then some numbers appeared, followed by the date and time. He was astonished and delighted that this was available to him, and surprised that he had not known.

Suddenly he could see a small windowless room, empty except for a bed, a table with some equipment on it — Jonas recognized a scale; he had seen them before, when he'd been doing volunteer hours at the Nurturing Center 148 and a cupboard. He could see pale carpeting on the floor.

"It's just an ordinary room," he commented. "I thought maybe they'd have it in the Auditorium, so that everybody could come. All the Old go to Ceremonies of Release. But I suppose that when it's just a newborn, they don't — "

"Shhh," The Giver said, his eyes on the screen.

Jonas's father, wearing his nurturing uniform, entered the room, cradling a tiny new child wrapped in a soft blanket in his arms. A uniformed woman followed through the door, carrying a second new child wrapped in a similar blanket.

"That's my father." Jonas found himself whispering, as if he might wake the little ones if he spoke aloud. "And the other Nurturer is his assistant. She's still in training, but she'll be finished soon."

The two Nurturers unwrapped the blankets and laid the identical newborns on the bed. They were naked. Jonas could see that they were males.

He watched, fascinated, as his father gently lifted one and then the other to the scale and weighed them.

He heard his father laugh. "Good," his father said to the woman. "I thought for a moment that they might both be exactly the same. Then we'd have a problem. But this one" — he handed one, after rewrapping it, to his assistant" is six pounds even. So you can clean him up and dress him and take him over to the Center."

The woman took the new child and left through the door she had entered.

Jonas watched as his father bent over the squirming new child on the bed. "And you, little guy, you're only five pounds ten ounces. A shrimp!"

"That's the special voice he uses with Gabriel," Jonas remarked, smiling.

"Watch," The Giver said.

"Now he cleans him up and makes him comfy," Jonas told him. "He told me."

"Be quiet, Jonas," The Giver commanded in a strange voice. "Watch."

Obediently Jonas concentrated on the screen, waiting for what would happen next. He was especially curious about the ceremony part.

His father turned and opened the cupboard. He took out a syringe and a small bottle. Very carefully he inserted the needle into the bottle and began to fill the syringe with a clear liquid.

Jonas winced sympathetically. He had forgotten that new children had to get shots. He hated shots himself, though he knew that they were necessary.

To his surprise, his father began very carefully to direct the needle into the top of the new child forehead, puncturing the place where the fragile skin pulsed. The new-born squirmed, and wailed faintly.

"Why's he — "

"Shhh," The Giver said sharply.

His father was talking, and Jonas realized that he was hearing the answer to the question he had started to ask. Still in the special voice, his father was saying, "I know, I know. It hurts, little guy. But I have to use a vein, and the veins in your arms are still too teeny-weeny."

He pushed the plunger very slowly, injecting the liquid into the scalp vein until the syringe was empty.

"All done. That wasn't so bad, was it?" Jonas heard his father say cheerfully. He turned aside and dropped the syringe into a waste receptacle.

Now he cleans him up and makes him comfy, Jonas said to himself, aware that The Giver didn't want to talk during the little ceremony.

As he continued to watch, the new child no longer crying, moved his arms and legs in a jerking motion. Then he went limp. He head fell to the side, his eyes half open. Then he was still.

With an odd, shocked feeling, Jonas recognized the gestures and posture and expression. They were familiar. He had seen them before. But he couldn't remember where.

Jonas stared at the screen, waiting for something to happen. But nothing did. The little twin lay motionless. His father was putting things away. Folding the blanket. Closing the cupboard.

Once again, as he had on the playing field, he felt the choking sensation. Once again he saw the face of the light-haired, bloodied soldier as life left his eyes. The memory came back.

He killed it! My father killed it! Jonas said to himself, stunned at what he was realizing. He continued to stare at the screen numbly.

His father tidied the room. Then he picked up a small carton that lay waiting on the floor, set it on the bed, and lifted the limp body into it. He placed the lid on tightly.

He picked up the carton and carried it to the other side of the room. He opened a small door in the wall; Jonas could see darkness behind the door. It seemed to be the same sort of chute into which trash was deposited at school.

His father loaded the carton containing the body into the chute and gave it a shove.

"Bye-bye, little guy," Jonas heard his father say before he left the room. Then the screen went blank.

The Giver turned to him. Quite calmly, he related, "When the Speaker notified me that Rosemary had applied for release, they turned on the tape to show me the process. There she was — my last glimpse of that beautiful child — waiting. They brought in the syringe and asked her to roll up her sleeve.

"You suggested, Jonas, that perhaps she wasn't brave enough? I don't know about bravery: what it is, what it means. I do know that I sat here numb with horror. Wretched with helplessness. And I listened as Rosemary told them that she would prefer to inject herself.

"Then she did so. I didn't watch. I looked away."

The Giver turned to him. "Well, there you are, Jonas. You were wondering about release," he said in a bitter voice.

Jonas felt a ripping sensation inside himself, the feeling of terrible pain clawing its way forward to emerge in a cry.

乔纳思瞄了一眼时钟,发现时间已经过了大半。要做的事情总是那么多,他和传授人很少像刚才那样单纯聊天。

“很抱歉我问了那么多问题,浪费了时间。”乔纳思说,“因为今天我爸爸要解放一名新生儿,所以我才会问起解放的事。今天有一对双胞胎出生,他必须做个选择,解放其中一个,留下体重较重的宝宝。”乔纳思又瞄了一下时钟,“他应该已经完成了,那是今天早上的事。”

传授人神情非常凝重:“我希望他们不要这样做。”他几乎是自言自语。

“因为社区里不能有两个一模一样的人啊!否则就要天下大乱了!”乔纳思轻声一笑。

“真希望我可以在一旁观看。”他又补上一句。他想看看爸爸怎么举行解放仪式,怎么帮较轻的新生儿清洁、打理一切。爸爸是个体贴的人。

“你可以看。”传授人说。

“不行,”乔纳思告诉他,“小孩不能观看,这是秘密进行的。”

“乔纳思,”传授人告诉他,“你不是仔细读过训练规则吗?别忘了,你可以问任何问题。”

乔纳思点点头:“我记得,但是……”

“乔纳思,当我们一起工作一段时间后,你就是新的记忆传授人。你可以读书,你会获得所有的记忆,你将接受一切。这是受训的一部分,如果你想看解放仪式,你尽管提出要求。”

乔纳思耸耸肩,“好吧!不过这次太晚了,我确定仪式已在早上举行过了。”

传授人告诉他一些他还不知道的事:“所有秘密进行的仪式都会录像存放在机密档案室里。你想看今天早上的解放仪式吗?”

乔纳思迟疑了,他担心爸爸知道了会不高兴,因为那是秘密仪式。

“我觉得你应该看。”传授人坚定地告诉他。

“好吧,请告诉我怎么做。”乔纳思说。

传授人从椅子上站起来,走到墙上的对讲机旁,“咔哒”

一声,把开关扳到开的位置。

对讲机马上传来声音:“您好,记忆传授人,请问有什么吩咐?”

“我想看今天早上双胞胎的解放仪式。”

“请稍候,记忆传授人。谢谢您的指示。”

乔纳思望着开关上面的屏幕,原本空白的画面开始闪现锯齿状的线条,接着出现一些数字,接下来是日期和时间。他既震惊又高兴,没想到使用这么方便,自己以前竟然不知道。

突然间,屏幕上出现一个没有窗户的小房间,地板上铺着褪色的地毯,里头只有一张床、一张桌子,还有一个橱柜,桌上放了某种仪器——乔纳思认出那是一个磅秤:他在育婴中心当义工时曾经见过。

“只是一间普通的房间嘛。”他说,“我还以为会在礼堂举行,好让大家都参加,就像所有的老人都去参加解放仪式一样。会不会是因为他才刚出生,不…

“嘘!”传授人说,眼睛看着屏幕。

屏幕上,乔纳思的爸爸穿着养育师的制服,进入房间,他的手臂上抱着一个用柔软的毯子包裹着的新生儿。另一个没有穿制服的女孩儿尾随在后,手上用相同的毯子包着另一名新生儿。

“那是我爸爸。”乔纳思自然而然地压低声音,生怕吵醒小家伙似的,“另一个人是他的助手,还在受训,但很快就要完成训练了。”

两位养育师打开毯子,将一模一样的双胞胎放在床上。

他们全身赤裸,一看就知道是男孩儿。

他全神贯注地看着爸爸轻轻地举起其中一个,放到磅秤上量体重,再举起另一个。

他听见爸爸在笑:“很好,”爸爸对助手说:“我还以为他们连体重都一样,那麻烦可就大了。不过这一个,”他将其中一个重新包好,交给助手,“刚好六磅。你把他清洗干净,穿上衣服,带到育婴中心。”

助手抱着新生儿走出门口。

乔纳思看见爸爸弯腰对床上扭着身子的新生儿说:“至于你呢,小家伙,你只有五磅十盎斯,小虾米一只。”

“他都是用这种声调跟加波说话的。”乔纳思微笑着说。

“专心看。”传授人说。

“现在帮小宝宝清洗,让他舒舒服服的。”乔纳思说,“爸爸早告诉我了。”

“安静,乔纳思。”传授人用怪异的声音下了命令,“注意看。”

乔纳思不再出声,专心看屏幕。他对仪式本身很好奇。

爸爸转身打开橱柜,拿出一支针管和一个小瓶子。他小心翼翼地将针头伸入小瓶子中,不一会儿针管便注满透明的液体。

乔纳思同情地缩了一下身体,他忘了新生儿还得打针。

他自己很讨厌打针,虽然他知道这是必要的。

出乎意料的是,爸爸竟然很小心地将针头插人小宝宝的脑门儿,小宝宝的脉搏在脆弱的肌肤下跳动着,他扭动全身,发出嚶嚶的哭泣声。

“他为什么……”

“嘘!”传授人低声制止。

他的爸爸正在说话,乔纳思这才想到,他可以听到他原先提问的答案。爸爸用他那种特殊的音调说:“我知道,我知道,这很痛,小家伙。但是我必须找到静脉,你手上的静脉太细了。”

他以很慢的速度推动针管,将液体注入头皮的静脉,直到注射管完全空了。

“完成了,没有那么糟嘛,不是吗?”乔纳思听见爸爸开心地说,转身将针管丢进垃圾桶。

乔纳思知道传授人不想说话,因此自言自语地说:“原来这就是帮他清洁、让他舒适的方法。”

乔纳思继续观看,小宝宝已经不再哭泣,他的手脚突然抽动了一下,然后瘫软下来。他的头垂向一边,眼睛半闭着,完全静止不动了。

乔纳思的内心涌起怪异、震惊的感受,他看过这样的姿势和表情,那模样是如此熟悉,只是一时想不起来在哪里见过。

乔纳思瞪着屏幕,等着后面事情的发展。但是较小的双胞胎一动也不动地躺着,他的爸爸正在收拾东西,折好毯子,关上橱柜。

他仿佛再度回到战场,空气几乎凝固了。他看见那张披散着金发的脸庞,那个浑身是血、眼神空洞的士兵——那种记忆回来了。

他杀了婴儿!我的爸爸杀了婴儿!乔纳思被自己刚刚了解的真相吓坏了。他麻木地瞪着屏幕。

爸爸将房间收拾干净后,再将地板上的一个小纸箱拿到床上,把软绵绵的尸体放进去,将盖子盖严。

他拿起纸箱,走到房间的另一头,打开墙上的小门,乔纳思看见门后漆黑一片,就跟学校放置垃圾的斜槽一样。

爸爸把装着尸体的纸箱放人斜槽,轻轻一推。

乔纳思听见爸爸在离开房间前说:“再见了,小家伙。”

然后屏幕一片空白。

传授人转身面对他’非常平静地开始叙述:“广播员通知我,萝丝玛丽已经要求解放,他们就将过程放给我看。她就站在那儿等着,那是我最后一次看见那孩子漂亮的身影。

他们带着针管,要她卷起袖子。

乔纳思,你曾问我她是不是不够勇敢?我不了解勇敢,勇敢到底是什么?又有什么特殊含意?我只知道我无力地坐在这里,吓坏了,全身发冷。我听见萝丝玛丽告诉他们,她宁可自己注射。

她真的这样做了,我没有看,我把头转开了。”

传授人看着他:“好啦,乔纳思,这就是你一直想知道的解放。”他的声音充满苦涩。

仿佛有人在撕扯乔纳思的胸腔,巨大的痛楚一波波涌现,最后爆发成撕心裂肺的哭喊声。






寒烟柔。

ZxID:14225420


等级: 内阁元老
配偶: 逐烟霞。
你看着眼前的人,分明还是以前的模样,可心里终究不是以前那般澄清透明了。
举报 只看该作者 21楼  发表于: 2015-08-21 0
Chapter 20



"I won't! I won't go home! You can't make me!" Jonas sobbed and shouted and pounded the bed with his fists.

"Sit up, Jonas," The Giver told him firmly.

Jonas obeyed him. Weeping, shuddering, he sat on the edge of the bed. He would not look at The Giver.

"You may stay here tonight. I want to talk to you. But you must be quiet now, while I notify your family unit. No one must hear you cry."

Jonas looked up wildly. "No one heard that little twin cry, either! No one but my father!" He collapsed in sobs again.

The Giver waited silently. Finally Jonas was able to quiet himself and he sat huddled, his shoulders shaking.

The Giver went to the wall speaker and clicked the switch to ON.

"Yes, Receiver. How may I help you?"

"Notify the new Receiver's family unit that he will be staying with me tonight, for additional training."

"I will take care of that, sir. Thank you for your instructions," the voice said.

"I will take care of that, sir. I will take care of that, sir," Jonas mimicked in a cruel, sarcastic voice. "I will do whatever you like, sir. I will kill people, sir. Old people? Small newborn people? I'd be happy to kill them, sir. Thank you for your instructions, sir. How may I help y — " He couldn't seem to stop.

The Giver grasped his shoulders firmly. Jonas fell silent and stared at him.

"Listen to me, Jonas. They can't help it. They know nothing."

"You said that to me once before."

"I said it because it's true. It's the way they live. It's the life that was created for them. It's the same life that you would have, if you had not been chosen as my successor."

"But he lied to me!" Jonas wept.

"It's what he was told to do, and he knows nothing else."

"What about you? Do you lie to me, too?" Jonas almost spat the question at The Giver.

"I am empowered to lie. But I have never lied to you."

Jonas stared at him. "Release is always like that? For people who break the rules three times? For the Old? Do they kill the Old, too?"

"Yes, it's true."

"And what about Fiona? She loves the Old! She's in training to care for them. Does she know yet? What will she do when she finds out? How will she feel?" Jonas brushed wetness from his face with the back of one hand.

"Fiona is already being trained in the fine art of release," The Giver told him. "She's very efficient at her work, your red-haired friend. Feelings are not part of the life she's learned."

Jonas wrapped his arms around himself and rocked his own body back and forth. "What should I do? I can't go back! I can't!"

The Giver stood up. "First, I will order our evening meal. Then we will eat."

Jonas found himself using the nasty, sarcastic voice again. "Then we'll have a sharing of feelings?"

The Giver gave a rueful, anguished, empty laugh. "Jonas, you and I are the only ones who have feelings. We've been sharing them now for almost a year."

"I'm sorry, Giver," Jonas said miserably. "I don't mean to be so hateful. Not to you."

The Giver rubbed Jonas's hunched shoulders. "And after we eat," he went on, "we'll make a plan."

Jonas looked up, puzzled. "A plan for what? There's nothing. There's nothing we can do. It's always been this way. Before me, before you, before the ones who came before you. Back and back and back." His voice trailed the familiar phrase.

"Jonas," The Giver said, after a moment, "it's true that it has been this way for what seems forever. But the memories tell us that it has not always been. People felt things once. You and I have been part of that, so we know. We know that they once felt things like pride, and sorrow, and — "

"And love," Jonas added, remembering the family scene that had so affected him. "And pain." He thought again of the soldier.

"The worst part of holding the memories is not the pain. It's the loneliness of it. Memories need to be shared."

"I've started to share them with you," Jonas said, trying to cheer him.

"That's true. And having you here with me over the past year has made me realize that things must change. For years I've felt that they should, but it seemed so hopeless.

"Now for the first time I think there might be a way," The Giver said slowly. "And you brought it to my attention, barely — " he glanced at the clock, "two hours ago."

Jonas watched him, and listened.

It was late at night, now. They had talked and talked. Jonas sat wrapped in a robe belonging to The Giver, the long robe that only Elders wore.

It was possible, what they had planned. Barely possible. If it failed, he would very likely be killed.

But what did that matter? If he stayed, his life was no longer worth living.

"Yes," he told The Giver. "I'll do it. I think I can do it. I'll try, anyway. But I want you to come with me."

The Giver shook his head. "Jonas," he said, "the community has depended, all these generations, back and back and back, on a resident Receiver to hold their memories for them. I've turned over many of them to you in the past year. And I can't take them back. There's no way for me to get them back if I have given them.

"So if you escape, once you are gone — and, Jonas, you know that you can never return — "

Jonas nodded solemnly. It was the terrifying part. "Yes," he said, "I know. But if you come with me — "

The Giver shook his head and made a gesture to silence him. He continued. "If you get away, if you get beyond, if you get to Elsewhere, it will mean that the community has to bear the burden themselves, of the memories you had been holding for them.

"I think that they can, and that they will acquire some wisdom. But it will be desperately hard for them. When we lost Rosemary ten years ago, and her memories returned to the people, they panicked. And those were such few memories, compared to yours. When your memories return, they'll need help. Remember how I helped you in the beginning, when the receiving of memories was new to you?"

Jonas nodded. "It was scary at first. And it hurt a lot."

"You needed me then. And now they will."

"It's no use. They'll find someone to take my place. They'll choose a new Receiver."

"There's no one ready for training, not right away. Oh, they'll speed up the selection, of course. But I can't think of another child who has the right qualities — "

"There's a little female with pale eyes. But she's only a Six."

"That's correct. I know the one you mean. Her name is Katharine. But she's too young. So they will be forced to bear those memories."

"I want you to come, Giver," Jonas pleaded.

"No. I have to stay here," The Giver said firmly. "I want to, Jonas. If I go with you, and together we take away all their protection from the memories, Jonas, the community will be left with no one to help them. They'll be thrown into chaos. They'll destroy themselves. I can't go."

"Giver," Jonas suggested, "you and I don't need to care about the rest of them."

The Giver looked at him with a questioning smile. Jonas hung his head. Of course they needed to care. It was the meaning of everything.

"And in any case, Jonas," The Giver sighed, "I wouldn't make it. I'm very weakened now. Do you know that I no longer see colors?"

Jonas's heart broke. He reached for The Giver's hand.

"You have the colors," The Giver told him. "And you have the courage. I will help you to have the strength."

"A year ago," Jonas reminded him, "when I had just become a Twelve, when I began to see the first color, you told me that the beginning had been different for you. But that I wouldn't understand."

The Giver brightened. "That's true. And do you know, Jonas, that with all your knowledge now, with all your memories, with all you've learned — still you won't understand? Because I've been a little selfish. I haven't given any of it to you. I wanted to keep it for myself to the last."

"Keep what?"

"When I was just a boy, younger than you, it began to come to me. But it wasn't the seeing-beyond for me. It was different. For me, it was hearing-beyond."

Jonas frowned, trying to figure that out. "What did you hear?" he asked.

"Music," The Giver said, smiling. "I began to hear something truly remarkable, and it is called music. I'll give you some before I go."

Jonas shook his head emphatically. "No, Giver," he said. "I want you to keep that, to have with you, when I'm gone."

Jonas went home the next morning, cheerfully greeted his parents, and lied easily about what a busy, pleasant night he had had.

His father smiled and lied easily, too, about his busy and pleasant day the day before.

Throughout the school day, as he did his lessons, Jonas went over the plan in his head. It seemed startlingly simple. Jonas and The Giver had gone over it and over it, late into the night hours.

For the next two weeks, as the time for the December Ceremony approached, The Giver would transfer every memory of courage and strength that he could to Jonas. He would need those to help him find the Elsewhere that they were both sure existed. They knew it would be a very difficult journey.

Then, in the middle of the night before the Ceremony, Jonas would secretly leave his dwelling. This was probably the most dangerous part, because it was a violation of a major rule for any citizen not on official business to leave a dwelling at night.

"I'll leave at midnight," Jonas said. "The Food Collectors will be finished picking up the evening-meal remains by then, and the Path-Maintenance Crews don't start their work that early. So there won't be anyone to see me, unless of course someone is out on emergency business."

"I don't know what you should do if you are seen, Jonas," The Giver had said. "I have memories, of course, of all kinds of escapes. People fleeing from terrible things throughout history. But every situation is individual. There is no memory of one like this."

"I'll be careful," Jonas said. "No one will see me."

"As Receiver-in-training, you're held in very high respect already. So I think you wouldn't be questioned very forcefully."

"I'd just say I was on some important errand for the Receiver. I'd say it was all your fault that I was out after hours," Jonas teased.

They both laughed a little nervously. But Jonas was certain that he could slip away, unseen, from his house, carrying an extra set of clothing. Silently he would take his bicycle to the riverbank and leave it there hidden in bushes with the clothing folded beside it.

Then he would make his way through the darkness, on foot, silently, to the Annex.

"There's no nighttime attendant," The Giver explained. "I'll leave the door unlocked. You simply slip into the room. I'll be waiting for you."

His parents would discover, when they woke, that he was gone. They would also find a cheerful note from Jonas on his bed, telling them that he was going for an early morning ride along the river; that he would be back for the Ceremony.

His parents would be irritated but not alarmed. They would think him inconsiderate and they would plan to chastise him, later.

They would wait, with mounting anger, for him; finally they would be forced to go, taking Lily to the Ceremony without him.

"They won't say anything to anyone, though," Jonas said, quite certain. "They won't call attention to my rudeness because it would reflect on their parenting. And anyway, everyone is so involved in the Ceremony that they probably won't notice that I'm not there. Now that I'm a Twelve and in training, I don't have to sit with my age group any more. So Asher will think I'm with my parents, or with you — "

"And your parents will assume you're with Asher, or with me — "

Jonas shrugged. "It will take everyone a while to realize that I'm not there at all."

"And you and I will be long on our way by then."

In the early morning, The Giver would order a vehicle and driver from the Speaker. He visited the other communities frequently, meeting with their Elders; his responsibilities extended over all the surrounding areas. So this would not be an unusual undertaking.

Ordinarily The Giver did not attend the December Ceremony. Last year he had been present because of the occasion of Jonas's selection, in which he was so involved. But his life was usually quite separate from that of the community. No one would comment on his absence, or on the fact that he had chosen this day to be away.

When the driver and vehicle arrived, The Giver would send the driver on some brief errand. During his absence, The Giver would help Jonas hide in the storage area of the vehicle. He would have with him a bundle of food which The Giver would save from his own meals during the next two weeks.

The Ceremony would begin, with all the community there, and by then Jonas and The Giver would be on their way.

By midday Jonas's absence would become apparent, and would be a cause for serious concern. The Ceremony would not be disrupted — such a disruption would be unthinkable. But searchers would be sent out into the community.

By the time his bicycle and clothing were found, The Giver would be returning. Jonas, by then, would be on his own, making his journey Elsewhere.

The Giver, on his return, would find the community in a state of confusion and panic. Confronted by a situation which they had never faced before, and having no memories from which to find either solace or wisdom, they would not know what to do and would seek his advice.

He would go to the Auditorium where the people would be gathered, still. He would stride to the stage and command their attention.

He would make the solemn announcement that Jonas had been lost in the river. He would immediately begin the Ceremony of Loss.

"Jonas, Jonas," they would say loudly, as they had once said the name of Caleb. The Giver would lead the chant. Together they would let Jonas's presence in their lives fade away as they said his name in unison more slowly, softer and softer, until he was disappearing from them, until he was no more than an occasional murmur and then, by the end of the long day, gone forever, not to be mentioned again.

Their attention would turn to the overwhelming task of bearing the memories themselves. The Giver would help them.

"Yes, I understand that they'll need you," Jonas had said at the end of the lengthy discussion and planning. "But I'll need you, too. Please come with me." He knew the answer even as he made the final plea.

"My work will be finished," The Giver had replied gently, "when I have helped the community to change and become whole.

"I'm grateful to you, Jonas, because without you I would never have figured out a way to bring about the change. But your role now is to escape. And my role is to stay."

"But don't you want to be with me, Giver?" Jonas asked sadly.

The Giver hugged him. "I love you, Jonas," he said. "But I have another place to go. When my work here is finished, I want to be with my daughter."

Jonas had been staring glumly at the floor. Now he looked up, startled. "I didn't know you had a daughter, Giver! You told me that you'd had a spouse. But I never knew about your daughter."

The Giver smiled, and nodded. For the first time in their long months together, Jonas saw him look truly happy.

"Her name was Rosemary," The Giver said.

“不!我不要回家!你不能强迫我!”乔纳思又哭又叫的,用拳头捶打着床铺。

“坐起来,乔纳思。”传授人坚定地告诉他。

乔纳思听话地坐在床边,低垂着头,一边擦泪,一边发抖。

“今晚你可以留下来,跟我说话。现在我要通知你的家人,你必须安静下来,不可以让人听见你的哭声。”

乔纳思猛然抬头:“也没人听见小双胞胎在哭!只有我父亲!”说着他又趴下来啜泣。

传授人静静地等待,最后乔纳思终于冷静下来,缩成一团,肩膀仍旧颤动不已。

传授人走到墙边对着对讲机拨开开关。

“您好,记忆传承人,请问有何吩咐?”

“请通知新记忆传承人的家人,说他今晚要留在这里加强训练。”

“我会照办的,先生。谢谢您的指示。”

“我会照办的,先生。我会照办的,先生。”乔纳思用冷酷、挖苦的声音说:“只要你吩咐,我会照办的,先生。我会杀人,先生。老人?或是体重较轻的新生儿?我很乐意杀他们,先生。谢谢您的指示,先生。我可以为您效劳吗……”

他好像停不下来了。

传授人牢牢地抓住他的肩膀,乔纳思猛然停下来,看着他。

“听我说,乔纳思,他们也无能为力,他们什么都不知道。”

“以前您也说过这句话。”

“我这样说,因为这是事实。这就是他们的生活,特别为他们创造出来的生活。如果你没被选为我的继承人,你的生活也跟他们一样。”

“但是,他对我说谎!”乔纳思又哭了。

“别人告诉他要这么做,他什么也不懂。”

“你呢?你也对我说谎吗?”乔纳思愤怒地提出这个尖锐的问题。

“我被賦予说谎的权力,但我不曾对你说过谎。”

乔纳思瞪着他:“解放都是这样子吗?只要是违规三次的人?还有那些老人?他们也杀老人吗?”

“对,事实如此。”

“费欧娜呢?她爱老人啊!她正在接受看护的训练。她知道吗?当她发现她必须这么做的时候,她要怎么办?她会有什么感觉?”乔纳思用手背抹掉脸上的泪。

“费欧娜早就练好解放的技巧了。”传授人告诉他,“你的红头发朋友很能干,工作非常有效率。她的生活里没有‘感觉’这回事。”

乔纳思用手臂环抱住自己,身体前后摇晃:“我该怎么办?我不能回家!我做不到!”

传授人站起来:“首先,我要订我们的晚餐,然后吃饭。”

乔纳思不自觉地用发怒、讽刺的语气说:“再来一段感觉分享?”

传授人发出怜悯、痛苦又空洞的笑声:“乔纳思,只有你和我是拥有感觉的人,过去这一年来,我们彼此分享这些感觉。”

“对不起,传授人,”乔纳思悲惨地说,“我没有憎恨您的意思。”

传授人拍拍乔纳思拱起的肩膀:“等吃过饭后,”他说,“我们来定个计划。”

乔纳思困惑地抬起头:“定什么计划?没有用的,我们什么也不能做。长久以来就是这样,在我以前,在您以前,在您前面那一位以前,以前,以前,再以前……”他故意拉长这句熟悉的用句。

“乔纳思,”停了一会儿,传授人说,“没错,这样的状况看起来好像是天经地义了。但是记忆告诉我们,以前并不是这样的。人们也曾经有过感觉。你跟我都经历过,所以我们知道。我们知道他们曾经有过骄傲、悲哀、还有……”

“还有爱,”乔纳思补充,他想起那幕令他深深感动的家庭场景,“还有痛苦。”他再度想起那名士兵。

“拥有记忆并不痛苦,真正的痛苦是孤寂,找不到人分享这些记忆。”

“我一开始就分享您的记忆。”乔纳思说,试着让他开心起来。

“的确。过去这一年来有你跟我一起共同度过,让我更加确认,事情一定要改变。多年来,我一直有这样的念头,但总觉得改善无望。现在,我头一次想到了可能有转机。”传授人慢慢地说:“是你让我想起这个方法的,就在……”他瞄了时钟一眼,“两个小时之前。”

乔纳思看着他,仔细聆听。

现在,夜深了。他们谈了又谈,谈了又谈。乔纳思身上裹着传授人的罩袍,这种长袍只有长老才有资格穿。

他们的计划有可能成功,只是有可能。如果失败了,他可能被杀。

但是,这又有什么关系?如果留下来,他的生命同样毫无意义。

“好的,”他告诉传授人,“就这么办。我应该做得到。无论如何,我尽力就是了。但是,我希望您跟我一起走。”

传授人摇摇头:“乔纳思,”他说,“过去这些世代,整个社区一直仰赖记忆传授人来为他们保存记忆。过去这一年,我已经把很多记忆转移给你了。我不能再要回来,一旦给出去,就不能再要回来。

所以,如果你逃跑了,成功走掉了——乔纳思,你要知道,你再也不能回来……”

乔纳思严肃地点点头,这是最难的决定,“是的,”他说:“我知道。不过,如果您跟我一起走……”

传授人摇摇头,示意他安静:“如果你走掉了,成功越过边界,你到了别的地方,那么整个社区就要自行背负这个大负担,接受你为大家承担的记忆。

我相信大家有这个能力,也能从中获取一些智能,但是冲击绝对是很大的。十年前我们失去萝丝玛丽时,她的记忆回到大家身上,引起一阵恐慌。那些记忆跟你获得的记忆比起来,实在是小巫见大巫。当你的记忆回到大家身上时,他们会需要帮助。还记得你开始受训时,面对从未有过的经历,我是怎么帮助你的吗?”

乔纳思点点头:“初次面对那些记忆,实在太吓人,伤害也太重了。”

“那时候,你需要我;以后,大家也会需要我。”

“没有用的,他们会再去物色一个人来代替我,重新立一位新的记忆传承人。”

“但没有人能够立刻接受训练。当然,他们会加速遴选,但是我想不出来有谁刚好具备这些特质……”

“有个小女生的眼珠子也是淡色的,但是她只有六岁。”

“没错,我知道你指的是谁,她叫凯萨林。但是她年纪太小了,所以大家被迫要承受这些记忆。”

“我要您跟我一起走,传授人。”乔纳思要求。

“不行,我一定得留在这里。”传授人坚定地说,“我也很想去,乔纳思。但是他们对所有的记忆毫无防备能力,我一走,社区里就没有人可以帮助大家,大灾难就会降临。他们会自我毁灭,所以我不能走。”

“传授人,”乔纳思建议,“您和我,不必为其他人想太多。”

传授人带着疑问的笑容看着他,乔纳思困窘地低下头。

他们当然要为其他人着想,这才是这一切计划的真意啊。

“而且,无论情况如何,乔纳思,”传授人叹了一口气,“我都完成不了了。我现在非常虚弱,你知道吗?我已经看不见颜色了。”

乔纳思心碎了,他紧紧握住传授人的手。

“你看得见颜色,”传授人告诉他,“也拥有勇气,我会帮助你获得更多力量。”

“一年前,”乔纳思提醒他,“当我刚晋升十二岁,刚开始看见颜色,您告诉我,您开始时的征兆跟我不一样,我到现在还不懂那是什么。”

传授人一听,面色顿时开朗了起来:“没错,你知道吗?

乔纳思,虽然你现在具备了这么多知识,拥有这么多记忆,学习了这么多东西——结果,为什么你还是不懂?因为我有点自私,还没有转移这方面的记忆给你,我想保留到最后一刻“保留什么呢?”

“当我还是个小男孩儿,比你还小的时候,我就开始感受到了。但我不是‘超眼界’,情况和你不相同,我经历的算是‘超听觉’吧。”

乔纳思皱皱眉头,努力想要弄清楚:“您听见的是什么呢?”

“音乐。”传授人微笑着说,“我开始听见一些非常奇妙的声音,那叫做‘音乐’,我会在你离开前给你一些。”

乔纳思使劲地摇头:“不要,传授人,我希望您保留下来,在我走了以后可以有音乐陪伴您。”

第二天早上,乔纳思回到家,开心地向父母问好,而且很轻松地撒谎说昨晚有多忙、多愉快。

他的爸爸微笑着,也轻松地说着谎,表示昨天又忙碌又愉快。

在学校,他一边上课,一边在脑海里演练整个计划。昨天他和传授人一遍又一遍地推敲,直到深夜。

距离十二月的典礼还有两个礼拜,传授人会在这段期间,将有关勇气、力量的记忆传授给乔纳思。因为一定要有这两种记忆,他才能在远方生存。他们都知道这是一段艰辛的旅程。

乔纳思准备在典礼前一天的半夜悄悄离家。这可能是计划中最危险的一环,因为违反重大规定:除非公派外出,否则任何社区居民不准在晚上离开住处。

“深夜里,”乔纳思说,“食物回收员收完晚餐的剩菜,道路清洁员又还没开始工作,所以不会有人看见我,除非有人因紧急公务外出。”

“万一被人发现,怎么办呢,乔纳思?”传授人问:“我虽然有各种逃跑的记忆,历史上也有很多避难事件,而且每件事的时空背景都不一样,可就偏偏没有跟这次类似的情况。”

“我会非常小心的,”乔纳思说,“不会被人发现。”

“你是受训中的记忆传承人,地位崇高,我想他们应该不至于太为难你。”

“我会说是记忆传授人吩咐我去办一件很重要的事情,所以才这么晚外出,把责任推给你。”乔纳思开玩笑地说。

两个人都紧张地笑了笑。不过乔纳思很确定,他可以带几件衣服,神不知鬼不觉地从家里溜出来,静悄悄地骑上自行车,来到河边,把自行车和叠好的衣服藏在草丛里。

接着,他就步行,无声无息地穿过黑暗,来到安尼斯。

“这里没有晚班的工作人员,”传授人说,“门没上锁,你直接进来就行了,我会等你的。"他的父母醒来后,会发现他已经走了。他们会在乔纳思的床上找到一张纸条,上面写着他沿河骑车散步,会在典礼前回来。

他的父母会有点生气,但不会警觉到出事了。他们会觉得他做事有欠考虑,打算等他回来再数落他。

他们越等越气,最后等不及了,只好先带莉莉去参加典礼。

乔纳思非常肯定地说:“不过,他们不会对任何人提起这件事,免得别人知道了,说他们没把孩子教养好。不管怎样,大家的焦点是典礼,没有人会注意到我的缺席,更何况我已经过了十二岁,正在受训,不用跟同学坐在一起,所以亚瑟会认为我跟父母,或是跟您在一起……”

“而你的父母会假设你跟亚瑟,或是跟我在一起……”

乔纳思耸耸肩:“总之要花点时间,大家才会发现我不见了。”

一大早,传授人会请广播员帮他叫一部车和司机。他经常拜访其他社区,跟他们的长老开会:他的活动范围远达附近地区,所以这样的举止一点都不奇怪。

传授人通常不参加十二月的典上一次他所以出席,是因为乔纳思被遴选上,这件事又跟他有密切的关系。至于他平常的生活,本来就跟社区的运作不相干。不会有人对他的缺席有意见,或对他选在这天离开感到突兀。

等到司机和车子抵达后,传授人会找个理由将司机支开,再帮乔纳思躲在车子的行李箱里。传授人会在接下来的这两周从三餐中省下一些食物,让乔纳思带到路上吃。

典礼开始,所有的社区居民都在礼堂里。那时,乔纳思和传授人早已上路了。

快到中午时,乔纳思的缺席才会引起大家的关切。但是典礼不会因此中断——因为这不在计划中。不过他们会派人到社区各处搜寻。

在他们找到他的自行车和衣服之前,传授人已经回来了;而乔纳思在那之前,也已经独自一人踏上旅途了。

传授人回来后,会发现整个社区陷入迷惘和慌乱中。由于从未碰到过这样的事件,没有记忆可供参考,更没有智能判断该怎么做,他们只好向传授人求助。

他会来到人潮聚集的大礼堂,步上台阶,严肃地宣布,乔纳思已经坠河失踪了,并马上举行哀悼仪式。

“乔纳思,乔纳思……”他们先是大声地呼唤,就像上次呼喊凯尔博一样,再慢慢让乔纳思从他们的生活中淡出。

方式是传授人引导大家念诵,通过全体复述他的名字,让声音渐慢、渐柔,直到他仿佛从大家心里消失不见,直到他变成大家口中偶发的一句呢喃。在漫长的一天结束之前,他就永远地消失,再也不会被提起。

大家的注意力会转移到来袭的记忆,传授人会协助大家度过难关。

“当然,我了解他们很需要您。”在经过长时间的讨论和计划后,乔纳思说,“但是,我也很需要您。请跟我一起走。”

即使已经知道答案,他还是不放弃希望。

“当我协助整个社区作出改变,让生活更完整后,我的工作就结束了。“传授人温和地回答。"我非常感激你,乔纳思,如果没有你,我永远也想不出该如何改变。你现在必须扮演好逃跑者的角色,而我的角色就是留下来。”

“但是您不想跟我在一起吗,传授人?”乔纳思悲伤地请求着。

传授人抱住他:“我爱你,乔纳思。”他说,“但是我还有别的地方要去。当这里的工作结束后,我想去跟我的女儿在一起。”

乔纳思本来忧郁地盯着地板,听到这里不禁惊讶得抬起头:“我不知道您有女儿,传授人!您只跟我说您有配偶,我从不知道您也有女儿。”

传授人微笑了起来,点点头。相处了这么长一段时间,乔纳思第一次看见他露出真正快乐的笑容。

“她的名字叫萝丝玛丽。”传授人说。







寒烟柔。

ZxID:14225420


等级: 内阁元老
配偶: 逐烟霞。
你看着眼前的人,分明还是以前的模样,可心里终究不是以前那般澄清透明了。
举报 只看该作者 22楼  发表于: 2015-08-22 0
Chapter 21
It would work. They could make it work, Jonas told himself again and again throughout the day.

But that evening everything changed. All of it — the things they had thought through so meticulously — fell apart.

That night, Jonas was forced to flee. He left the dwelling shortly after the sky became dark and the community still. It was terribly dangerous because some of the work crews were still about, but he moved stealthily and silently, staying in the shadows, making his way past the darkened dwellings and the empty Central Plaza, toward the river. Beyond the Plaza he could see the House of the Old, with the Annex behind it, outlined against the night sky. But he could not stop there. There was no time. Every minute counted now, and every minute must take him farther from the community.

Now he was on the bridge, hunched over on the bicycle pedaling steadily. He could see the dark, churning water far below.

He felt, surprisingly, no fear, nor any regret at leaving the community behind. But he felt a very deep sadness that he had left his closest friend behind. He knew that in the danger of his escape he must be absolutely silent; but with his heart and mind, he called back and hoped that with his capacity for hearing-beyond, The Giver would know that Jonas had said goodbye.

It had happened at the evening meal. The family unit was eating together as always: Lily chattering away, Mother and Father making their customary comments (and lies, Jonas knew) about the day. Nearby, Gabriel played happily on the floor, babbling his baby talk, looking with glee now and then toward Jonas, obviously delighted to have him back after the unexpected night away from the dwelling.

Father glanced down toward the toddler. "Enjoy it, little guy," he said. "This is your last night as visitor."

"What do you mean?" Jonas asked him.

Father sighed with disappointment. "Well, you know he wasn't here when you got home this morning because we had him stay overnight at the Nurturing Center. It seemed like a good opportunity, with you gone, to give it a try. He'd been sleeping so soundly."

"Didn't it go well?" Mother asked sympathetically.

Father gave a rueful laugh. "That's an understatement. It was a disaster. He cried all night, apparently. The night crew couldn't handle it. They were really frazzled by the time I got to work."

"Gabe, you naughty thing," Lily said, with a scolding little cluck toward the grinning toddler on the floor.

"So," Father went on, "we obviously had to make the decision. Even I voted for Gabriel's release when we had the meeting this afternoon."

Jonas put down his fork and stared at his father. "Release?" he asked.

Father nodded. "We certainly gave it our best try, didn't we?"

"Yes, we did," Mother agreed emphatically.

Lily nodded in agreement, too.

Jonas worked at keeping his voice absolutely calm. "When?" he asked. "When will he be released?"

"First thing tomorrow morning. We have to start our preparations for the Naming Ceremony, so we thought we'd get this taken care of right away.

"It's bye-bye to you, Gabe, in the morning," Father had said, in his sweet, sing-song voice.

Jonas reached the opposite side of the river, stopped briefly, and looked back. The community where his entire life had been lived lay behind him now, sleeping. At dawn, the orderly, disciplined life he had always known would continue again, without him. The life where nothing was ever unexpected. Or inconvenient. Or unusual. The life without color, pain, or past.

He pushed firmly again at the pedal with his foot and continued riding along the road. It was not safe to spend time looking back. He thought of the rules he had broken so far: enough that if he were caught, now, he would be condemned.

First, he had left the dwelling at night. A major transgression.

Second, he had robbed the community of food: a very serious crime, even though what he had taken was leftovers, set out on the dwelling doorsteps for collection.

Third, he had stolen his father's bicycle. He had hesitated for a moment, standing beside the bike port in the darkness, not wanting anything of his father's and uncertain, as well, whether he could comfortably ride the larger bike when he was so accustomed to his own.

But it was necessary because it had the child seat attached to the back.

And he had taken Gabriel, too.

He could feel the little head nudge his back, bouncing gently against him as he rode. Gabriel was sleeping soundly, strapped into the seat. Before he had left the dwelling, he had laid his hands firmly on Gabe's back and transmitted to him the most soothing memory he could: a slow-swinging hammock under palm trees on an island someplace, at evening, with a rhythmic sound of languid water lapping hypnotically against a beach nearby. As the memory seeped from him into the new child he could feel Gabe's sleep ease and deepen. There had been no stir at all when Jonas lifted him from the crib and placed him gently into the molded seat.

He knew that he had the remaining hours of night before they would be aware of his escape. So he rode hard, steadily, willing himself not to tire as the minutes and miles passed. There had been no time to receive the memories he and The Giver had counted on, of strength and courage. So he relied on what he had, and hoped it would be enough.

He circled the outlying communities, their dwellings dark. Gradually the distances between communities widened, with longer stretches of empty road. His legs ached at first; then, as time passed, they became numb.

At dawn Gabriel began to stir. They were in an isolated place; fields on either side of the road were dotted with thickets of trees here and there. He saw a stream, and made his way to it across a rutted, bumpy meadow; Gabriel, wide awake now, giggled as the bicycle jolted him up and down.

Jonas unstrapped Gabe, lifted him from the bike, and watched him investigate the grass and twigs with delight. Carefully he hid the bicycle in thick bushes.

"Morning meal, Gabe!" He unwrapped some of the food and fed them both. Then he filled the cup he had brought with water from the stream and held it for Gabriel to drink. He drank thirstily himself, and sat by the stream, watching the new child play.

He was exhausted. He knew he must sleep, resting his own muscles and preparing himself for more hours on the bicycle. It would not be safe to travel in daylight.

They would be looking for him soon.

He found a place deeply hidden in the trees, took the new child there, and lay down, holding Gabriel in his arms. Gabe struggled cheerfully as if it were a wrestling game, the kind they had played back in the dwelling, with tickles and laughter.

"Sorry, Gabe," Jonas told him. "I know it's morning, and I know you just woke up. But we have to sleep now."

He cuddled the small body close to him, and rubbed the little back. He murmured to Gabriel soothingly. Then he pressed his hands firmly and transmitted a memory of deep, contented exhaustion. Gabriel's head nodded, after a moment, and fell against Jonas's chest.

Together the fugitives slept through the first dangerous day.

The most terrifying thing was the planes. By now, days had passed; Jonas no longer knew how many. The journey had become automatic: the sleep by day, hidden in underbrush and trees; the finding of water; the careful division of scraps of food, augmented by what he could find in the fields. And the endless, endless miles on the bicycle by night.

His leg muscles were taut now. They ached when he settled himself to sleep. But they were stronger, and he stopped now less often to rest. Sometimes he paused and lifted Gabriel down for a brief bit of exercise, running down the road or through a field together in the dark. But always, when he returned, strapped the uncomplaining toddler into the seat again, and remounted, his legs were ready.

So he had enough strength of his own, and had not needed what The Giver might have provided, had there been time.

But when the planes came, he wished that he could have received the courage.

He knew they were search planes. They flew so low that they woke him with the noise of their engines, and sometimes, looking out and up fearfully from the hiding places, he could almost see the faces of the searchers.

He knew that they could not see color, and that their flesh, as well as Gabriel's light golden curls, would be no more than smears of gray against the colorless foliage. But he remembered from his science and technology studies at school that the search planes used heat-seeking devices which could identify body warmth and would hone in on two humans huddled in shrubbery.

So always, when he heard the aircraft sound, he reached to Gabriel and transmitted memories of snow, keeping some for himself. Together they became cold; and when the planes were gone, they would shiver, holding each other, until sleep came again.

Sometimes, urging the memories into Gabriel, Jonas felt that they were more shallow, a little weaker than they had been. It was what he had hoped, and what he and The Giver had planned: that as he moved away from the community, he would shed the memories and leave them behind for the people. But now, when he needed them, when the planes came, he tried hard to cling to what he still had, of cold, and to use it for their survival.

Usually the aircraft came by day, when they were hiding. But he was alert at night, too, on the road, always listening intently for the sound of the engines. Even Gabriel listened, and would call out, "Plane! Plane!" sometimes before Jones had heard the terrifying noise. When the aircraft searchers came, as they did occasionally, during the night as they rode, Jonas sped to the nearest tree or bush, dropped to the ground, and made himself and Gabriel cold. But it was sometimes a frighteningly close call.

As he pedaled through the nights, through isolated landscape now, with the communities far behind and no sign of human habitation around him or ahead, he was constantly vigilant, looking for the next nearest hiding place should the sound of engines come.

But the frequency of the planes diminished. They came less often, and flew, when they did come, less slowly, as if the search had become haphazard and no longer hopeful. Finally there was an entire day and night when they did not come at all.

一定会成功的。经过一整天的思考,乔纳思一遍又一遍地告诉自己,他们一定会成功的。

但是到了晚上,事情发生了变化,整个计划一所有他们精心设计、仔细推敲的细节一都前功尽弃。

那天晚上,乔纳思被迫开始逃亡。当黑幕笼罩大地,整个社区沉寂下来时,他就得赶紧离开住处。这样做相当危险,因为附近有工作人员在走动,他尽量藏身在阴影中,无声无息地移动,穿过漆黑的房子和空荡荡的中央广场,朝河流的方向前进。越过广场,他可以看见养老院和后面的安尼斯矗立在夜空下。但是他不能停下脚步,已经没有时间了,每一分钟都至关重要,只要多争取一分钟,他就能逃离社区越远一点。

他来到桥上,弓着身子,快速地蹬着自行车前进。他可以看见桥下幽暗、翻腾的河水。

将社区远远地拋在后面时,他一点也不害怕或后悔,这点连他自己都很诧异。但是就这样跟亲密的朋友分离,却让他感到无比的哀伤。他知道身处逃亡的险境中,必须保持安静。但是他希望,传授人‘超听觉’的能力,能够听见他发自内心深处的呐喊和道别。

一切的转变就发生在晚餐时刻。他们一家人一如往昔般共进晚餐,莉莉叽叽喳喳说个不停,爸爸、妈妈报告(和说谎,这点乔纳思很清楚)当天的所见所闻。加波很开心地在地板上玩耍,一边咿咿呀呀地儿语,并且不时开心地看看乔纳思。昨晚乔纳思没回来,现在看见乔纳思回来,他显得特别高兴。

爸爸低头望着这个小人儿:“好好玩,小家伙,”他说,“这是你最后一晚在我们家做客。”

“您是什么意思?”乔纳思问。

爸爸失望的叹了一口气:“你也知道,今天早上你回来的时候没有看见他,因为昨晚我们让他在养育中心过夜。我本来觉得这是一个好机会,可以趁你不在时,做个测试,因为他最近都睡得很熟。”

“测试结果不好吗?”妈妈同情地问。

爸爸苦笑了一下:“你说得太客气了,根本就是一场大灾难。他哭了一整夜,夜班工作人员束手无策。我去上班的时候,大家全累垮了。”

“加波,你这个调皮鬼。”莉莉指责地板上笑嘻嘻的小人儿。

“所以啦,”爸爸继续说,“我们必须赶紧做个决定。下午大家开了会,连我都赞成让加波解放。”

乔纳思放下叉子,盯着父亲:“解放?”

爸爸点点头:“我们已经尽力了,不是吗?”

“是啊,我们尽力了。”妈妈表示同意。

莉莉也点头赞成。

乔纳思勉强让自己的声音平静下来:“什么时候?他什么时候举行解放?”

“明天一早。要开始准备命名大典了,我们得尽快处理这件事。明天早上就要跟你说再见了,加波。”爸爸用他那甜美、歌唱式的声音说。

乔纳思抵达河的对岸,忍不住停下车子,回头张望。养育他十三年的社区,在远远的后头,沉浸在睡梦中。黎明后,他熟悉的那套规律的生活模式,依旧会持续下去,即使没有他,也照样运行不辍。在那里,生活中没有值得惊奇的事物,没有不方便或不寻常,也没有颜色、痛苦和过去。

他继续快速地蹬着自行车,沿着道路前进。已经不能回头了。他严重违反规定,如果被捉住,后果不堪设想。

第一点,他在晚上离开住处。

第二点,他偷拿社区的食物。这是重罪,就算他拿的是放在家门口的剩饭剩菜,也一样。

第三点,他偷了爸爸的自行车。黑暗中,他站在停车处迟疑了一下。本来并不想拿爸爸任何东西,因为他不确定自己会不会骑这辆较大的车子,他一向习惯自己的自行车。但是,没有这辆车不行,因为它的后座有儿童座椅,他把加波带了出来。

后座的小脑袋轻轻抵着他的背,随着车子的跳动,轻轻地起伏。加波被牢牢地绑在座位上,睡得正熟。离家前,他曾将手贴在加波的背上,将最能安抚人心的记忆传送给他:夜晚时分,棕榈树下缓缓摇晃的吊床;慵懒的潮水以催眠式的节奏,轻轻冲刷着附近的海岸……记忆一点一滴渗进小宝宝的心里,让他睡得既安稳又深沉。当乔纳思将他抱到座椅上时,他一点都没受到惊动。

乔纳思知道几个小时后他逃跑的消息就会爆发开来,所以他拼命地、坚决地骑行着,希望自己不会随着时间和里程的增加而感到疲惫。现在没有时间去等待传授人给他记忆,让他产生力量和勇气了。他只能凭借与生俱来的本能,一路支撑下去。

他绕着社区边缘前进,远处的屋舍一片漆黑。他和社区间的距离越拉越大,路面也越来越空荡,他的腿从酸痛到几乎全麻了。

黎明时刻,加波开始扭动。现在他们来到一个隔离的地段,路边树木林立。他经过一片车痕累累、路面颠簸的草地,骑近一条溪流。加波清醒了,随着自行车上下的震动,不断咯咯地笑着。

乔纳思给加波松了绑,把他从自行车上放到草地上,让他开心地在草叶嫩枝间探索,并小心地将自行车藏在隐密的草丛中。

“吃早餐了,加波。”他解开食物包装袋,把两个人喂饱,并用杯子装满溪水来喝,然后坐到溪流边看着小宝宝玩。

他筋疲力尽,知道自己必须睡一觉,让肌肉休息一下,才能在晚上继续骑车。白天赶路,很容易被发现。

他们很快就会出来找他的。

他发现树林深处有个藏身的地方,便带着小宝宝过去,把他抱在怀里,躺下来。加波开心地挣扎着,以为是在玩搏斗游戏,以前他们在家里常玩这种搔痒、嬉乐的游戏。

“对不起,加波,”乔纳思告诉他,“我知道现在是早上,我也知道你才刚醒过来。但是,我们现在得睡觉才行。”

他将小家伙的身体拉向自己,轻抚着他的背,并轻声细语地安抚着,然后再转移一段深沉、满足、耗尽精力的记忆。加波的头垂了下来,过了一会儿,便在乔纳思的胸膛上睡着了。

这两位逃亡者,就这样在睡眠中安度第一个充满危机的日子。

飞机是最叫人害怕的东西。过了好几天了——乔纳思不知道到底是几天——整个旅程开始有了规律的模式:白天躲藏在草丛或树林里,找水,小心分配剩余的食物,在野地上觅食,好补充食物。晚上骑车赶路。一骑好几里的路程,使得他腿部肌肉绷得很紧,一旦安顿好,想睡个觉,就浑身酸痛。不过,他的双腿也因而结实了不少,越来越不需要动不动就休息了。有时候他会把加波放下来,让他做做运动,两人一起沿着马路跑步,或一起在黑暗中穿越原野。每次他回到车边,将这个合作默契、十分顺从的小伙伴放回车上时,他的腿也得到了充分的休息,可以配合上路了。

因此,他靠着自己的体力就足以应付。逃亡前,原本传授人要传给他的那些能量,现在都不需要了。

但是当飞机接近时,他真希望自己接受了“勇气”的训练。

他知道那是飞机侦察队。机队低空飞翔,引擎声嘈杂无比,足以把他从梦中惊醒。有时他惊恐地从藏身处往外望,差一点儿就跟搜索队打上照面。

他知道他们看不见颜色,所以他们的肌肤和加波的淡金色鬈发,隐藏在无色的草丛中,就像个灰色的污点。他记得在科技课程中学过,搜索飞机是利用热感应搜寻器来探索人体温度,如果灌木丛中有两个人抱在一起,搜寻器的感应会更快速。

所以每次一听见侦察机的声音,他就伸手到加波身上,将下雪的记忆转移过去,他自己也保留一些。他们就这样一起让身体变冷。飞机一走,他们冷得发抖,只好紧紧地互相拥抱,直到再度睡着。

乔纳思在转移记忆时,察觉到他的记忆越来越淡,也越来越模糊了。这是他希望的,也是传授人的计划:他离社区越来越远,记忆就会日渐消退,慢慢地回到人们身上。但是,目前他还需要这些记忆,因为侦察机不断出现,他得紧抓着这些有关寒冷的记忆,才能存活下去。

侦察机是白天出动,不过,即使是晚上赶路时,他也依然会警觉地聆听是否有引擎声。有时候乔纳思还没注意到,加波就听见了,马上大叫:“飞机!飞机!”偶尔侦察机群会在晚上他们赶路的时候出现,乔纳思就会加快速度,冲进最近的大树下或草丛中,丢下自行车,让自己和加波降温。它们有时真的飞得好近啊。

他骑着自行车冲过黑暗,冲过隔离地带,将社区远远抛在身后,进入没有标志、无人居住的区域。他依然保持警戒,留意附近可以藏身的地点,以免引擎声一出现,就慌了手脚。

飞机出现的频率渐渐少了,偶尔出现,速度也没放慢,就好像搜索行动只是走走过场,并不抱希望。终于,一整天、一整夜,侦察机不再出现了。


寒烟柔。

ZxID:14225420


等级: 内阁元老
配偶: 逐烟霞。
你看着眼前的人,分明还是以前的模样,可心里终究不是以前那般澄清透明了。
举报 只看该作者 23楼  发表于: 2015-08-22 0
Chapter 22
Now the landscape was changing. It was a subtle change, hard to identify at first. The road was narrower, and bumpy, apparently no longer tended by road crews. It was harder, suddenly, to balance on the bike, as the front wheel wobbled over stones and ruts.

One night Jonas fell, when the bike jolted to a sudden stop against a rock. He grabbed instinctively for Gabriel; and the new child strapped tightly in his seat, was uninjured, only frightened when the bike fell to its side. But Jonas's ankle was twisted, and his knees were scraped and raw, blood seeping through his torn trousers. Painfully he righted himself and the bike, and reassured Gabe.

Tentatively he began to ride in daylight. He had forgotten the fear of the searchers, who seemed to have diminished into the past. But now there were new fears; the unfamiliar landscape held hidden, unknown perils.

Trees became more numerous, and the forests beside the road were dark and thick with mystery. They saw streams more frequently now and stopped often to drink. Jonas carefully washed his injured knees, wincing as he rubbed at the raw flesh. The constant ache of his swollen ankle was eased when he soaked it occasionally in the cold water that rushed through roadside gullies.

He was newly aware that Gabriel's safety depended entirely upon his own continued strength.

They saw their first waterfall, and for the first time wildlife.

"Plane! Plane!" Gabriel called, and Jonas turned swiftly into the trees, though he had not seen planes in days, and he did not hear an aircraft engine now. When he stopped the bicycle in the shrubbery and turned to grab Gabe, he saw the small chubby arm pointing toward the sky.

Terrified, he looked up, but it was not a plane at all. Though he had never seen one before, he identified it from his fading memories, for The Giver had given them to him often. It was a bird.

Soon there were many birds along the way, soaring overhead, calling. They saw deer; and once, beside the road, looking at them curious and unafraid, a small reddish-brown creature with a thick tail, whose name Jonas did not know. He slowed the bike and they stared at one another until the creature turned away and disappeared into the woods.

All of it was new to him. After a life of Sameness and predictability, he was awed by the surprises that lay beyond each curve of the road. He slowed the bike again and again to look with wonder at wildflowers, to enjoy the throaty warble of a new bird nearby, or merely to watch the way wind shifted the leaves in the trees. During his twelve years in the community, he had never felt such simple moments of exquisite happiness.

But there were desperate fears building in him now as well. The most relentless of his new fears was that they would starve. Now that they had left the cultivated fields behind them, it was almost impossible to find food. They finished the meager store of potatoes and carrots they had saved from the last agricultural area, and now they were always hungry.

Jonas knelt by a stream and tried without success to catch a fish with his hands. Frustrated, he threw rocks into the water, knowing even as he did so that it was useless. Finally, in desperation, he fashioned a makeshift net, looping the strands of Gabriel's blanket around a curved stick.

After countless tries, the net yielded two flopping silvery fish. Methodically Jonas hacked them to pieces with a sharp rock and fed the raw shreds to himself and to Gabriel. They ate some berries, and tried without success to catch a bird.

At night, while Gabriel slept beside him, Jonas lay awake, tortured by hunger, and remembered his life in the community where meals were delivered to each dwelling every day.

He tried to use the flagging power of his memory to recreate meals, and managed brief, tantalizing fragments: banquets with huge roasted meats; birthday parties with thick-frosted cakes; and lush fruits picked and eaten, sun warmed and dripping, from trees.

But when the memory glimpses subsided, he was left with the gnawing, painful emptiness. Jonas remembered, suddenly and grimly, the time in his childhood when he had been chastised for misusing a word. The word had been "starving". You have never been starving, he had been told. You will never be starving.

Now he was. If he had stayed in the community, he would not be. It was as simple as that. Once he had yearned for choice. Then, when he had had a choice, he had made the wrong one: the choice to leave. And now he was starving.

But if he had stayed...His thoughts continued. If he had stayed, he would have starved in other ways. He would have lived a life hungry for feelings, for color, for love.

And Gabriel? For Gabriel there would have been no life at all. So there had not really been a choice.

It became a struggle to ride the bicycle as Jonas weakened from lack of food, and realized at the same time that he was encountering something he had for a long time yearned to see: hills. His sprained ankle throbbed as he forced the pedal downward in an effort that was almost beyond him.

And the weather was changing. It rained for two days. Jonas had never seen rain, though he had experienced it often in the memories. He had liked those rains, enjoyed the new feeling of it, but this was different. He and Gabriel became cold and wet, and it was hard to get dry, even when sunshine occasionally followed.

Gabriel had not cried during the long frightening journey. Now he did. He cried because he was hungry and cold and terribly weak. Jonas cried, too, for the same reasons, and another reason as well. He wept because he was afraid now that he could not save Gabriel. He no longer cared about himself.

景观渐渐变了,刚开始很细微,并不容易察觉,只觉得道路窄了,也更崎岖了,很久没有人维修的样子。接下来,骑在自行车上也不容易平衡了,前轮老是辗过一些石子和坑洞。

有一天晚上,乔纳思撞上石头,跌了下来。他赶紧伸手护住加波,幸好小宝宝牢牢地绑在座椅上,没有受伤,只不过在自行车倒地的时候吓了一跳。但是乔纳思的手腕扭到了,膝盖擦伤了,鲜血从他擦破的裤管滴了下来。他痛苦地直起身子,扶起自行车,并仔细检査加波的身体。

他逐渐淡忘了对侦察机队的恐惧,开始在白天上路,但是新的恐惧又出现了,因为不熟悉的景致,隐藏着他难以理解的危险。

树木越来越多,道路边的森林漆黑、浓密又神秘。溪流不时出现,他们也经常停下来喝水。乔纳思小心地洗着受伤的膝盖,碰到擦伤的皮肉时,忍不住缩了一下。原本肿大、疼痛的膝盖,在冷冽的山涧溪流浸泡下,终于慢慢地消肿、不痛了。

他重新体认到,加波的安全全靠他的毅力。

有一天,他们看见从没见过的瀑布,也看见从没见过的野生动物。

“飞机!飞机!”加波大叫。乔纳思虽然已经好几天没有看见飞机,耳边也没听见飞机引擎的声音,他还是不加思索地冲进树林,将自行车停在灌木丛里,然后伸手捉住加波。加波胖胖的小手指向天空。

他惊恐地抬起头来。还好,不是飞机。他从没亲眼见过这样的生物,但透过他那日益消退的记忆,他认出那是经常出现在传授人记忆库中的动物——鸟。

很快,路边出现了很多飞上飞下、啁啾鸣叫的鸟。他们也看到鹿。有一次,看见一只有着红棕色皮毛、一条粗尾巴的小动物,站在路边好奇地看着他们,一点也不害怕。乔纳思不知道叫什么,就放慢自行车的速度。他们彼此好奇地张望着,直到那只小动物转身,跑进森林里不见了踪影。

所有的事物是如此新奇,让他内心充满敬畏。过去的生活单纯到每桩事都可以预期,现在竟然是每转个弯都会遇见令他惊奇的事物。他一次又一次地放慢自行车的速度,充满欣喜地看着路边的野花,欣赏着身旁小鸟婉转的歌唱,或风儿吹动林间树叶的姿态。在社区生活的十三年间,他从未经历过这般生动的幸福与快乐。

但是,他的内心也同时隐藏着绝望的恐惧。最大的恐惧是他们可能挨饿。现在他们远离耕作区,已经不太可能找到食物了。他们上次在最后一个耕种区收集来的马铃薯和胡萝卜,存量不多,吃完以后,就什么都没有了。最近,他们经常饿着肚子。

乔纳思跪在溪边,想用手去抓鱼,但徒劳无功。于是改用石块砸,结果还是无效。他失望极了,但依然绞尽脑汁,利用加波毯子上的绳子,缠住一根根弯弯的枯枝,做出一张代用鱼网。

经过无数次的尝试,这张鱼网竟然捕到两条滑溜溜的小银鱼。乔纳思找了一块尖锐的石头,把鱼切成小段,一些喂加波,自己也吃一些。他们还吃了一些莓子。本来还想捉一只鸟,但是没有成功。

到了晚上,加波安稳地睡在他身边,乔纳思却睡不着,饥饿折磨着他,让他想起以前在社区时,每天每户人家都可以收到餐点。

他试着运用逐渐模糊的记忆,自己创造出一份大餐,还加上短暂的扑鼻香味:陈列着大块烤肉的宴会;摆满了厚厚奶油蛋糕的庆生会,结实累累的水果迎着阳光垂挂在枝头。

但是当记忆退去的那一刻,痛苦、噬咬心田的空洞立即漫上他的心头。乔纳思突然闪过小时候的记忆,他曾经因为用错一个“饿死了”的词,而被严厉地责骂。大家告诉他,你绝不可能饿死。

现在他就快要饿死了。如果他仍留在社区里就不会有这样的遭遇。事情就是这么简单,他曾希望可以选择,但真正面临选择的机会时,他却选错了。他选择离开,所以现在要挨饿。

如果他留下来……

他继续思考,如果他留下来,他会在其他方面挨饿,也会因为生活中缺乏感觉、色彩和爱而处于精神上的饥饿状态。

加波呢?加波如果还留在那儿,根本连命都没了。所以那里不是选择留下的地方。

吃不饱,让乔纳思骑起自行车来,犹如在打一场硬仗。

他同时体认到他正在翻越长久以来梦寐以求的事物:山丘。

他奋力地蹬着自行车,受伤的膝盖传来阵阵抽痛,但他还是拼命向前。

气候也跟着变了,一连下了两天的雨。乔纳思不曾看过雨,虽然他在记忆中经历过,也很喜欢雨,很享受那冰凉的感受。但现在可不同了,他和加波又冷又湿,衣服一直干不了,就连偶尔露个脸的太阳也无济于事。

在这段漫长、可怕的旅程中,加波都没有哭,直到这一刻,饥寒交迫,身子虚弱,他才哭了出来。乔纳思也哭了,除了和加波相同的理由外,他流泪是因为害怕自己救不了加波!他已经不在乎自己了。



寒烟柔。

ZxID:14225420


等级: 内阁元老
配偶: 逐烟霞。
你看着眼前的人,分明还是以前的模样,可心里终究不是以前那般澄清透明了。
举报 只看该作者 24楼  发表于: 2015-08-22 0
Chapter 23
Jonas felt more and more certain that the destination lay ahead of him, very near now in the night that was approaching. None of his senses confirmed it. He saw nothing ahead except the endless ribbon of road unfolding in twisting narrow curves. He heard no sound ahead.

Yet he felt it: felt that Elsewhere was not far away. But he had little hope left that he would be able to reach it. His hope diminished further when the sharp, cold air began to blur and thicken with swirling white.

Gabriel, wrapped in his inadequate blanket, was hunched, shivering, and silent in his little seat. Jonas stopped the bike wearily, lifted the child down, and realized with heartbreak how cold and weak Gabe had become.

Standing in the freezing mound that was thickening around his numb feet, Jonas opened his own tunic, held Gabriel to his bare chest, and tied the torn and dirty blanket around them both. Gabriel moved feebly against him and whimpered briefly into the silence that surrounded them.

Dimly, from a nearly forgotten perception as blurred as the substance itself, Jonas recalled what the whiteness was.

"It's called snow, Gabe," Jonas whispered. "Snowflakes. They fall down from the sky, and they're very beautiful."

There was no response from the child who had once been so curious and alert. Jonas looked down through the dusk at the little head against his chest. Gabriel's curly hair was matted and filthy, and there were tearstains outlined in dirt on his pale cheeks. His eyes were closed. As Jonas watched, a snowflake drifted down and was caught briefly for a moment's sparkle in the tiny fluttering eyelashes.

Wearily he remounted the bicycle. A steep hill loomed ahead. In the best of conditions, the hill would have been a difficult, demanding ride. But now the rapidly deepening snow obscured the narrow road and made the ride impossible. His front wheel moved forward imperceptibly as he pushed on the pedals with his numb, exhausted legs. But the bicycle stopped. It would not move.

He got off and let it drop sideways into the snow. For a moment he thought how easy it would be to drop beside it himself, to let himself and Gabriel slide into the softness of snow, the darkness of night, the warm comfort of sleep.

But he had come this far. He must try to go on.

The memories had fallen behind him now, escaping from his protection to return to the people of his community. Were there any left at all? Could he hold on to a last bit of warmth? Did he still have the strength to Give? Could Gabriel still Receive?

He pressed his hands into Gabriel's back and tried to remember sunshine. For a moment it seemed that nothing came to him, that his power was completely gone. Then it flickered suddenly, and he felt tiny tongues of heat begin to creep across and into his frozen feet and legs. He felt his face begin to glow and the tense, cold skin of his arms and hands relax. For a fleeting second he felt that he wanted to keep it for himself, to let himself bathe in sunlight, unburdened by anything or anyone else.

But the moment passed and was followed by an urge, a need, a passionate yearning to share the warmth with the one person left for him to love. Aching from the effort, he forced the memory of warmth into the thin, shivering body in his arms.

Gabriel stirred. For a moment they both were bathed in warmth and renewed strength as they stood hugging each other in the blinding snow.

Jonas began to walk up the hill.

The memory was agonizingly brief. He had trudged no more than a few yards through the night when it was gone and they were cold again.

But his mind was alert now. Warming himself ever so briefly had shaken away the lethargy and resignation and restored his will to survive. He began to walk faster on feet that he could no longer feel. But the hill was treacherously steep; he was impeded by the snow and his own lack of strength. He didn't make it very far before he stumbled and fell forward.

On his knees, unable to rise, Jonas tried a second time. His consciousness grasped at a wisp of another warm memory, and tried desperately to hold it there, to enlarge it and pass it into Gabriel. His spirits and strength lifted with the momentary warmth and he stood. Again, Gabriel stirred against him as he began to climb.

But the memory faded, leaving him colder than before.

If only he had had time to receive more warmth from The Giver before he escaped! Maybe there would be more left for him now. But there was no purpose in if-onlys. His entire concentration now had to be on moving his feet, warming Gabriel and himself, and going forward.

He climbed, stopped, and warmed them both briefly again, with a tiny scrap of memory that seemed certainly to be all he had left.

The top of the hill seemed so far away, and he did not know what lay beyond. But there was nothing left to do but continue. He trudged upward.

As he approached the summit of the hill at last, something began to happen. He was not warmer; if anything, he felt more numb and more cold. He was not less exhausted; on the contrary, his steps were leaden, and he could barely move his freezing, tired legs.

But he began, suddenly, to feel happy. He began to recall happy times. He remembered his parents and his sister. He remembered his friends, Asher and Fiona. He remembered The Giver.

Memories of joy flooded through him suddenly.

He reached the place where the hill crested and he could feel the ground under his snow-covered feet become level. It would not be uphill anymore.

"We're almost there, Gabriel," he whispered, feeling quite certain without knowing why. "I remember this place, Gabe." And it was true. But it was not a grasping of a thin and burdensome recollection; this was different. This was something that he could keep. It was a memory of his own.

He hugged Gabriel and rubbed him briskly, warming him, to keep him alive. The wind was bitterly cold. The snow swirled, blurring his vision. But somewhere ahead, through the blinding storm, he knew there was warmth and light.

Using his final strength, and a special knowledge that was deep inside him, Jonas found the sled that was waiting for them at the top of the hill. Numbly his hands fumbled for the rope.

He settled himself on the sled and hugged Gabe close. The hill was steep but the snow was powdery and soft, and he knew that this time there would be no ice, no fall, no pain. Inside his freezing body, his heart surged with hope.

They started down.

Jonas felt himself losing consciousness and with his whole being willed himself to stay upright atop the sled, clutching Gabriel, keeping him safe. The runners sliced through the snow and the wind whipped at his face as they sped in a straight line through an incision that seemed to lead to the final destination, the place that he had always felt was waiting, the Elsewhere that held their future and their past.

He forced his eyes open as they went downward, downward, sliding, and all at once he could see lights, and he recognized them now. He knew they were shining through the windows of rooms, that they were the red, blue, and yellow lights that twinkled from trees in places where families created and kept memories, where they celebrated love.

Downward, downward, faster and faster. Suddenly he was aware with certainty and joy that below, ahead, they were waiting for him; and that they were waiting, too, for the baby. For the first time, he heard something that he knew to be music. He heard people singing.

Behind him, across vast distances of space and time, from the place he had left, he thought he heard music too. But perhaps it was only an echo.

The End

黑夜慢慢地笼罩下来,乔纳思越来越肯定,目的地就在前方不远处。只是,没有任何感官支持他的感觉。除了无数条迂回交叉展开在前面的狭窄道路,他什么都看不见,什么都听不见。

他感觉得到“别处”就在不远的地方,却不确定自己是否到得了。冰冷的空中开始飘下无数回旋的小白点,模糊了他的视线,他的希望也更加渺茫了。

加波身上只裹着薄薄的毯子,他弓起身子发抖,却仍乖乖地坐在后座上,不做声。乔纳思担心地停下自行车,将孩子抱下来,心疼地发觉加波的身子非常冰冷、虚弱。

现在他们站在寒冷的山丘上,双脚快要瘫软了。乔纳思打开上衣,将加波搂进赤裸的怀里,再将那条破烂、肮脏的毯子盖在两人身上。加波抵着他,无力地蠕动着,发出微弱的呜咽声,四周再度恢复到无边的沉静之中。

那模糊视线的小东西,突然触动了乔纳思久已遗忘的记忆,他想起这小白点是什么了。

“这叫做雪,加波!”乔纳思轻声说,“雪花从天空飘下来,好美啊!快看!”

这个好奇、机警的小孩现在没有反应了。乔纳思在夜色中看见他小小的脸蛋靠在自己的胸膛上,原本鬈曲的头发早已黯淡无光、污秽不堪,苍白的脸颊上留着两道小泪痕。他双眼紧闭,一片雪花正好落在他轻轻颤动的眼帘上,带来瞬间的闪光。

他再度蹬着自行车用力往前踩,一段陡哨的山丘赫然耸立眼前。即使是大晴天,想骑上这座山丘都非常困难,更何况现在雪越下越急、越下越大,遮蔽了整条狭窄的道路。乔纳思用麻木、疲惫不堪的双脚努力蹬着踏板,但是前轮几乎没有在转动。最后自行车停了下来,再也无法前进了。

乔纳思下车,任由自行车翻倒在雪地上。他好想也倒在自行车旁,和加波一起投进大雪柔软的怀抱,贴向夜晚阴暗的胸膛,沉入温暖舒适的梦乡。

但是已经走这么长的路了,他一定要继续走下去。

原有的记忆已经被他抛得远远的了,脱离他的保护,重新回流到社区人的头脑里。他还保有什么记忆吗?他还拥有最后一丝的暖意吗?他还有力气去传送记忆吗?加波能不能接收得到?

他将双手放在加波的背上,试着去回想阳光。一开始,似乎什么反应也没有,就在他的能量快耗尽的当儿,突然有一丝细微的热感爬上他冻僵的双脚和腿上。他的脸庞开始发红,手上原本紧绷、冰寒的肌肤,也开始放松了。他多么想保留这股热气,让自己曝晒在阳光下,不再忍受寒冷的痛苦。

但这念头稍纵即逝,他迫切地想把这股暖意跟怀中的小人儿分享。传送的过程让他痛苦万分,他还是尽力把温暖的记忆转移到他手上那瘦弱、颤抖的身躯上。

加波抖动了一下。好一会儿,他们就这样拥抱着彼此。

虽然身边依然是令人目眩的白雪,却感觉自己在温暖中获得重生的力量。

乔纳思开始步上山丘。

记忆短暂得令人扼腕。在黑夜中,他没走几步,暖意就消失了,他们再度回到冰冷的天地中。

但是他的内心已经警醒了。即使他只被温暖了片刻,却足以赶走所有的倦意和沮丧,重拾求生的意志。他移动没有知觉的双脚,快步前行。这座山丘故意刁难似的特别陡峭,白雪和疲惫还是阻碍他的前进。他没走多远,就绊倒在地。

膝盖是那样沉重,他再试一次。他的意识又捕捉到另一个温暖的记忆,他赶紧留住它,让它扩大,再传送给加波。

通过这短暂的温暖,他的精神和力气又提振起来,他站了起来,继续往上爬,怀里的加波也跟着动了一下。

但是记忆很快又消退了,只留给他更冰冷的现实。

要是他在逃跑前,从传授人那边接收到更多温暖的记忆就好了!不过,现在想象这些假设的状况已于事无补,当务之急是专心移动脚步,让加波和自己能保持温暖,继续前进。

他往上爬,停下来,再利用片断的记忆,让两个人重获温暖,那段记忆很有可能是仅存的了。

山顶看起来如此的遥远,他也不清楚山后头是什么,但眼前别无选择。他迈着沉重的步伐继续往上走。

快接近山顶的时候,情况有了转变。他不再获得温暖,感觉上更虚弱、更寒冷。同时他并非不再感到举步维艰,一双冻僵的脚、累极了的双腿,就快要抬不起来了。

但是,突然间,他觉得好快乐。他回想起快乐的时光,他想起自己的爸爸妈妈,想起妹妹。他想起朋友,亚瑟和费欧娜。他想起传授人。

欢乐的回忆在他全身弥漫开来。

他抵达山顶了。他可以感觉到覆满白雪的双脚现在是踩在平坦的土地上了,再也不用往上爬了。

“我们快要到了,加波。”他轻声地说,内心涌出莫名的信心。“我记得这个地方,加波。”这是真的!这不是一个微弱、模糊的回忆,这次不一样。这是一个他可以永远保留的记忆,一个属于他自己的记忆。

他抱紧加波,轻快地抚摩他,给他温暖,让他继续活下去。寒风凜冽,大雪依然纷飞,模糊了他的视线。但是某个地方就在眼前,只要穿越这层眩目的风雪,他们就可以寻到温暖和光亮。

乔纳思运用最后一丝力气,以及内在那种奇特的知识,找到了山顶上那架久候他们的雪橇。他用麻木的双手摸索着绳索。

他们开始往下滑。

乔纳思觉得自己正逐渐失去意识,他集中意志力让自己在雪橇上坐正,手里紧护住加波。滑板迅速地滑过雪地,风儿扑向他的脸庞,当他们笔直地滑过一个路口时,目的地似乎已经在望,那是一个他等候已久、包括了他们的未来和过去的所在。

在下滑的路程中,他强迫自己睁开眼睛。他看见灯光了,他终于认出那是什么,他知道那是从窗口透出来的灯光,在屋里有棵大树,树上悬挂着红灯、蓝灯和黄灯,一家人正在欢庆爱的喜悦,共创美好的回忆。

雪橇一路下滑,再下滑,速度越来越快。突然间,他很肯定,欢乐已在前方和下头等着他,也在等着小宝宝。头一次,他听见了美妙的音乐,也听见了人们的歌声。

穿越广大的时空,乔纳思仿佛听见他远离的那个地方也响起了美妙的音乐,不过,也许那只是回音罢了!

附录  认识洛伊丝·劳里

洛伊丝·劳里,1937年3月出生于夏威夷,父亲在军中担任牙医,他们一家人也随着军队迁移世界各地。二次大战期间,她住在外祖父母位于宾州的老家,十一岁到上高中之前,则在日本度过。后来她进布朗大学就读,但只修完两年课程便结婚了,直到生完四个孩子后才重拾学业,从南缅因大学毕业。

洛伊丝·劳里的写作生涯起步较晚,四十岁时才尝试完成小时候的梦想——当一名作家。结果却一鸣惊人,如今她不但是世界知名的作家,还获得两次纽伯瑞金牌奖的肯定。除了写作儿童小说、短篇故事,她也撰写评论、专业的论文。

她的写作素材非常广泛,风格多样,有生活幽默小说《阿纳斯塔西亚·克鲁布尼克》(AnastasiaKrupnik)、谈战争与屠杀的《数星星》(Number theStars)、描写未来乌托邦社会的《记忆传授人》(The Giver),此外还有涉及收养、精神疾病、癌症等议题的二十多本著作,堪称是一位多才、多变的作家。

其实她本身就是一位很懂得过生活的人,她好学不倦,博览群书,闲暇时喜好编织、桥牌和园艺。此外,她还是烹饪高手,收藏了各式各样的食谱书。除了作家头衔外,她还是一位专业摄影师,通过作家独具的慧眼,构思出一帧帧颇具深度的影像。

《记忆传授人》是洛伊丝·劳里第二本获纽伯瑞奖的科幻小说,灵感来自小时候居住在日本的经验。那段日子里,由于父母的刻意保护,不论衣、食、教育,她都过着和在美国时一模一样的生活。这样的生活虽然安逸、舒适,但相对地也少了接触异国文化的刺激与惊喜。所以成年后的她一直在思索,是否住在一切都控制良好、生活无忧的环境中,就能够获得幸福?

洛伊丝·劳里试图在书中让读者和主角一起思索这个问题,而关注青少年所面对的各种不完美的人生、人际关系,正是她成功的地方。


若曾闲

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等级: 寒窗墨者
举报 只看该作者 25楼  发表于: 2015-08-23 0
没看过
jjwxc2

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等级: 专栏作家
!!!!!
举报 只看该作者 26楼  发表于: 2016-02-16 0
谢谢哦
jlw765

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等级: 专栏作家
目前着迷万人迷受苏文不能自拔。。。
举报 只看该作者 27楼  发表于: 2016-02-22 0
我们课上要用,有了中文对照,幸福多了,非常感谢分享!!!!
目前着迷万人迷受苏文不能自拔。。。
minical

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等级: 文学之神
The river of no return~
举报 只看该作者 28楼  发表于: 2016-03-24 0
好厉害
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