Chapter 89

Everything suffered. Everything became sun-bleached and weather-beaten. The lifeboat, the raft until it was lost, the tarpaulin, the stills, the rain catchers, the plastic bags, the lines, the blankets, the net - all became worn, stretched, slack, cracked, dried, rotted, torn, discoloured. What was orange became whitish orange. What was smooth became rough. What was rough became smooth. What was sharp became blunt. What was whole became tattered. Rubbing fish skins and turtle fat on things, as I did, greasing them a little, made no difference. The salt went on eating everything with its million hungry mouths. As for the sun, it roasted everything. It kept Richard Parker in partial subjugation. It picked skeletons clean and fired them to a gleaming white. It burned off my clothes and would have burned off my skin, dark though it was, had I not protected it beneath blankets and propped-up turtle shells. When the heat was unbearable I took a bucket and poured sea water on myself; sometimes the water was so warm it felt like syrup. The sun also took care of all smells. I don't remember any smells. Or only the smell of the spent hand-flare shells. They smelled like cumin, did I mention that? I don't even remember what Richard Parker smelled like.

We perished away. It happened slowly, so that I didn't notice it all the time. But I noticed it regularly. We were two emaciated mammals, parched and starving. Richard Parker's fur lost its lustre, and some of it even fell away from his shoulders and haunches. He lost a lot of weight, became a skeleton in an oversized bag of faded fur. I, too, withered away, the moistness sucked out of me, my bones showing plainly through my thin flesh.

I began to imitate Richard Parker in sleeping an incredible number of hours. It wasn't proper sleep, but a state of semi-consciousness in which daydreams and reality were nearly indistinguishable. I made much use of my dream rag.

These are the last pages of my diary:

Today saw a shark bigger than any I've seen till now. A primeval monster twenty feet long. Striped. A tiger shark - very dangerous. Circled us. Feared it would attack. Have survived one tiger; thought I would die at the hands of another. Did not attack. Floated away. Cloudy weather, but nothing.

No rain. Only morning greyness. Dolphins. Tried to gaff one. Found I could not stand. R.P. weak and ill-tempered. Am so weak, if he attacks I won't be able to defend myself. Simply do not have the energy to blow whistle.

Calm and burning hot day. Sun beating without mercy. Feel my brains are boiling inside my head. Feel horrid.

Prostrate body and soul. Will die soon. R.P. breathing but not moving. Will die too. Will not kill me.

Salvation. An hour of heavy, delicious, beautifal rain. Filled mouth, filled bags and cans, filled body till it could not take another drop. Let myself be soaked to rinse off salt. Crawled over to see R.P. Not reacting. Body curled, tail flat. Coat clumpy with wetness. Smaller when wet. Bony. Touched him for first time ever. To see if dead. Not. Body still warm. Amazing to touch him. Even in this condition, firm, muscular, alive. Touched him and fur shuddered as if I were a gnat. At length, head half in water stirred. Better to drink than to drown. Better sign still: tail jumped. Threw piece of turtle meat in front of nose. Nothing. At last half rose - to drink. Drank and drank. Ate. Did not rise fully. Spent a good hour licking himself all over. Slept.

It's no use. Today I die.

I will die today.

I die.

This was my last entry. I went on from there, endured, but without noting it. Do you see these invisible spirals on the imargins of the page? I thought I would run out of paper. It was the pens that ran out.、

 第八十九章

    一切都受到了损害。一切都因日晒雨淋而退了色。救生艇、丢失前的小筏子、油布、蒸馏器、接雨器、塑料袋、绳索、毯子、网——所有东西都破旧了，撑大了，变松了，晒干了，腐烂了，撕破了，退色了。鲜艳的橘黄色变得发白。光滑的东西变得粗糙。粗糙的东西变得光滑。锋利的东西变钝了。完整的东西变成了碎片。我用鱼皮擦，用海龟油抹，让它们润滑一些，但都没有用。盐仿佛有一百万张嘴，继续啃咬着每一样东西。至于太阳，它炙烤着一切。它让理查德·帕克处在半受抑制的状态中。它把骨架上的肉剔得干干净净，把骨头烘烤得发出了白色微光。它把我的衣服烧掉了，要不是我用毯子和支起的海龟壳保护皮肤，它还会把我的皮肤也烧掉的，尽管我的皮肤已经很黑了。热得受不了时，我就打一桶海水浇在身上；有时海水太暖了，感觉就像糖浆。太阳还对付所有的气味。我什么气味也不记得了。或者说只记得手动照明弹的气味。闻起来像莳萝，我提到过吗？我甚至不记得理查德·帕克的气味了。

    我们的生命在凋零。这个过程很慢，因此我并不总是能注意到。但是我能经常注意到。我们是两只憔悴的哺乳动物，干渴又饥饿。理查德·帕克的毛夫去了往日的光泽，有些毛甚至从肩部和腰部掉了下来。他瘦多了，成了装在尺寸过大的退了色的毛皮包里的一具骨架。我也变得枯槁，身体里的水分已被吸干，薄薄的肌肉下面，骨头清晰可见。

    我开始模仿理查德·帕克睡很长时间，长得令人难以置信。那不是正常的睡眠，而是一种半昏迷的状态，在那种状态下，白日梦和现实几乎无法区分。我常常用梦之帆。

    下面是我的日记的最后几页：

    今天看见一条我至今为止看见过的最大的鲨鱼。一条二十英尺长的原始怪物。身上有条纹。是条虎鲨——非常危险。它围着我们打转。怕它会袭击我们。和老虎在一起活了下来；以为我会死于这海中老虎之手。没有袭击我们。游走了。多云，但天没变。没下雨。只是早晨天空灰蒙蒙的。海豚。试图用鱼叉叉上来一只。发现自己站不起来了。 R-P身体虚弱，脾气暴躁。我太虚弱了，如果他袭击我，我会无法保护自己。连吹哨子的力气都没有。风平浪静，骄阳似火，无情地照射着。感到脑浆已经在脑袋里煮沸了。感到惊恐。身体和灵魂都倒下了。很快就要死了。R-P在呼吸，但一动不动。也要死了。不会杀我了。得救了。下了一小时的倾盆大雨，甘甜的美丽的雨。注满了我的嘴，注满了接雨器的袋子和罐子，注满了我的身体，直到我一滴也不能再喝了。让雨水湿透身体，把盐冲掉。爬过去看看R-P。没有反应。他身体蜷缩着，尾巴耷拉着。毛被打湿后结成了一团一团的。淋湿的身体小了些。瘦骨嶙峋。第一次摸了摸他。看他是不是死了。没死。还有体温。摸他的感觉令人吃惊。即使在这样的情况下，他的身体也结实、强壮、有活力。摸他时，他的毛皮颤抖了一下，好像我是只蚊子。最后，半埋在水里的头动了动。喝水要比淹死好。还有更好的现象：尾巴竖了起来。把几块海龟内扔到他鼻子跟前。没有反应。最后半抬起身子——喝水。喝啊喝啊。又开始吃。没有完全站起来。花了足足一小时舔遍全身。睡了。没有用。今天我死了。今天我就要死了。

    我死了。

    这是日记的最后一页。从那以后，我一直在忍受痛苦，却没有记下来。你看见页边空白处这些看不见的螺旋形的印迹吗——我以为纸会用完。用完的是钢笔。