Chapter 94

When we reached land, Mexico to be exact, I was so weak I barely had the strength to be happy about it. We had great difficulty landing. The lifeboat nearly capsized in the surf. I streamed the sea anchors - what was left of them - full open to keep us perpendicular to the waves, and I tripped them as soon as we began riding a crest. In this way, streaming and tripping the anchors, we surfed in to shore. It was dangerous. But we caught one wave at just the right point and it carried us a great distance, past the high, collapsing walls of water. I tripped the anchors a last time and we were pushed in the rest of the way. The boat hissed to a halt against the sand.

I let myself down the side. I was afraid to let go, afraid that so close to deliverance, in two feet of water, I would drown. I looked ahead to see how far I had to go. The glance gave me one of my last images of Richard Parker, for at that precise moment he jumped over me. I saw his body, so immeasurably vital, stretched in the air above me, a fleeting, furred rainbow. He landed in the water, his back legs splayed, his tail high, and from there, in a few hops, he reached the beach. He went to the left, his paws gouging the wet sand, but changed his mind and spun around. He passed directly in front of me on his way to the right. He didn't look at me. He ran a hundred yards or so along the shore before turning in. His gait was clumsy and uncoordinated. He fell several times. At the edge of the jungle, he stopped. I was certain he would turn my way. He would look at me. He would flatten his ears. He would growl. In some such way, he would conclude our relationship. He did nothing of the sort. He only looked fixedly into the jungle. Then Richard Parker, companion of my torment, awful, fierce thing that kept me alive, moved forward and disappeared forever from my life.

I struggled to shore and fell upon the sand. I looked about. I was truly alone, orphaned not only of my family, but now of Richard Parker, and nearly, I thought, of God. Of course, I wasn't. This beach, so soft, firm and vast, was like the cheek of God, and somewhere two eyes were glittering with pleasure and a mouth was smiling at having me there.

After some hours a member of my own species found me. He left and returned with a group. They were six or seven. They came up to me with their hands covering their noses and mouths. I wondered what was wrong with them. They spoke to me in a strange tongue. They pulled the lifeboat onto the sand. They carried me away. The one piece of turtle meat I had brought from the boat they wrenched from my hand and threw away.

I wept like a child. It was not because I was overcome at having survived my ordeal, though I was. Nor was it the presence of my brothers and sisters, though that too was very moving. I was weeping because Richard Parker had left me so unceremoniously. What a terrible thing it is to botch a farewell. I am a person who believes in form, in the harmony of order. Where we can, we must give things a meaningful shape. For example - I wonder - could you tell my jumbled story in exactly one hundred chapters, not one more, not one less? I'll tell you, that's one thing I hate about my nickname, the way that number runs on forever. It's important in life to conclude things properly. Only then can you let go. Otherwise you are left with words you should have said but never did, and your heart is heavy with remorse. That bungled goodbye hurts me to this day. I wish so much that I'd had one last look at him in the lifeboat, that I'd provoked him a little, so that I was on his mind. I wish I had said to him then - yes, I know, to a tiger, but still - I wish I had said, "Richard Parker, it's over. We have survived. Can you believe it? I owe you more gratitude than I can express. I couldn't have done it without you. I would like to say it formally: Richard Parker, thank you. Thank you for saving my life. And now go where you must. You have known the confined freedom of a zoo most of your life; now you will know the free confinement of a jungle. I wish you all the best with it. Watch out for Man. He is not your friend. But I hope you will remember me as a friend. I will never forget you, that is certain. You will always be with me, in my heart. What is that hiss? Ah, our boat has touched sand. So farewell, Richard Parker, farewell. God be with you."

The people who found me took me to their village, and there some women gave me a bath and scrubbed me so hard that I wondered if they realized I was naturally brown-skinned and not a very dirty white boy. I tried to explain. They nodded and smiled and kept on scrubbing me as if I were the deck of a ship. I thought they were going to skin me alive. But they gave me food. Delicious food. Once I started eating, I couldn't stop. I thought I would never stop being hungry.

The next day a police car came and brought me to a hospital, and there my story ends.

I was overwhelmed by the generosity of those who rescued me. Poor people gave me clothes and food. Doctors and nurses cared for me as if I were a premature baby. Mexican and Canadian officials opened all doors for me so that from the beach in Mexico to the home of my foster mother to the classrooms of the University of Toronto, there was only one long, easy corridor I had to walk down. To all these people I would like to extend my heartfelt thanks.

第九十四章

    我们到达陆地的时候，具体地说，是到达墨西哥的时候，我太虚弱了，简直连高兴的力气都没有了。靠岸非常困难。救生艇差点儿被海浪掀翻。我让海锚——剩下的那些——完全张开，让我们与海浪保持垂直，一开始往浪峰上冲，我就起锚。我们就这样不断地下锚和起锚，冲浪来到岸边。这很危险。但是我们正巧抓住了一个浪头，这个浪头将我们带了很远一段距离，带过了高高的、墙一般坍塌的海水。我最后一次起锚，剩下的路程我们是被海浪推着前进的。小船发出嘶嘶声，冲着海滩停了下来。

    我从船舷爬了下来。我害怕松手，害怕在就要被解救的时候，自己会淹死在两英尺深的水里。我向前看看自己得走多远。那一瞥在我心里留下了对理查德·帕克的最后几个印象之一，因为就在那一刻他期我扑了过来。我看见他的身体，充满了无限活力，在我身体上方的空中伸展开来，仿佛一道飞逝的毛绒绒的彩虹。他落迸了水里，后腿展开，尾巴翘得高高的，只跳了几下，他就从那儿跳到了海滩上。他向左走去，爪子挖开了潮湿的沙滩，但是又改变了主意，转过身来。他向右走去时径直从我面前走过。他没有看我。他沿着海岸跑了大约一百码远，然后才掉转过来。他步态笨拙又不协调。他摔倒了好几次。在丛林边上，他停了下来。我肯定他会转身对着我。他会看我。他会耷拉下耳朵。他会咆哮。他会以某种诸如此类的方式为我们之间的关系做一个总结。他没有这么做。他只是目不转睛地看着丛林。然后，理查德·帕克，我忍受折磨时的伴侣，激起我求生意志的可怕猛兽，向前走去，永远从我的生活中消失了。

    我挣扎着向岸边走去，倒在了海滩上。我四处张望。我真的是孤独一人，不仅被家人遗弃，并且现在被理查德·帕克遗弃，而且，我想，也被上帝遗弃了。当然，我并没有被遗弃。这座海滩如此柔软，坚实，广阔，就像上帝的胸膛，而且，在某个地方，有两只眼睛正闪着快乐的光，有一张嘴正因为有我在那儿而微笑着。

    几个小时以后，我的一个同类发现了我。他离开了，又带了一群人回来。大约有六七个人。他们用手捂着鼻子和嘴朝我走过来。我不知道他们怎么了。他们用一种奇怪的语言对我说话。他们把救生艇拖到了沙滩上。他们把我抬走了。我手里抓着一块从船上带下来的海龟肉，他们把肉抠出来扔了。我像个孩子一样哭起来。不是因为我对自己历尽磨难却生存下来而感到激动，虽然我的确感到激动。也不是因为我的兄弟姐妹就在我面前，虽然这也令我非常感动。我哭是因为理查德.帕克如此随便地离开了我。不能好好地告别是件多么可怕的事啊。我是一个相信形式、相信秩序和谐的人。只要可能，我们就应该赋予事物一个有意义的形式。比如说——我想知道——你能一章不多、一章不少，用正好一百章把我的杂乱的故事说出来吗？我告诉你，我讨厌自己外号的原因之一就是，那个数字会一直循环下去。事物应当恰当地结束，这在生活中很重要。只有在这时你才能放手。否则你的心里就会装满应该说却从不曾说的话，你的心就会因悔恨而沉重。那个没有说出的再见直到今天都让我伤心。我真希望自己在救生艇里看了他最后一眼，希望我稍稍激怒了他，这样他就会牵挂我。我希望自己当时对他说——是的，我知道，对一只老虎，但我还是要说——我希望自己说：“理查德·帕克，一切都过去了。我们活了下来。你能相信吗？我对你的感谢无法用语言表达。如果没有你，我做不到这一点。我要正式地对你说：理查德·帕克，谢谢你。谢谢你救了我的命。现在到你要去的地方去吧。这大半辈子你已经了解了什么是动物园里有限的自由；现在你将会了解什么是丛林里有限的自由。我祝你好运。当心人类。他们不是你的朋友。但我希望你记住我是一个朋友。我不会忘记你的，这是肯定的。你会永远和我在一起，在我心里。那嘶嘶声是什么？啊，我们的小船触到沙滩了。那么，再见了，理查德·帕克，再见。上帝与你同在。

    "发现我的人把我带到了他们村里，在那里，几个女人给我洗了个澡。她们擦洗得太用力了，我不知道她们是否意识到我是天生的棕色皮肤，而不是个非常脏的白人小伙子。我试图解释。她们点点头，笑了笑，然后继续擦洗，仿佛我是船甲板。我以为她们要把我活剥了。但是她们给了我食物。可口的食物。我一开始吃，就没办法停下来了。我想我永远也不会停止感到饥饿。第二天，来了一辆警车，把我送进了医院。我的故事到此结束了。

    救我的人慷慨大方，让我深受感动。穷人送给我衣服和食——物。医生和护士照顾我，仿佛我是个早产的婴儿。墨西哥和加拿—大官员为我敞开了所有大门，因此从墨西哥海滩到我养母家再到多伦多大学的课堂，我只须走过一道长长的通行方便的走廊。

    我要对所有这些人表示衷心的感谢。