Chapter 46

Clouds that gathered where ships were supposed to appear, and the passing of the day, slowly did the job of unbending my smile. It is pointless to say that this or that night was the worst of my life. I have so many bad nights to choose from that I've made none the champion. Still, that second night at sea stands in my memory as one of exceptional suffering, different from the frozen anxiety of the first night in being a more conventional sort of suffering, the broken-down kind consisting of weeping and sadness and spiritual pain, and different from later ones in that I still had the strength to appreciate fully what I felt. And that dreadful night was preceded by a dreadful evening.

I noticed the presence of sharks around the lifeboat. The sun was beginning to pull the curtains on the day. It was a placid explosion of orange and red, a great chromatic symphony, a colour canvas of supernatural proportions, truly a splendid Pacific sunset, quite wasted on me. The sharks were makos-swift, pointy-snouted predators with long, murderous teeth that protruded noticeably from their mouths. They were about six or seven feet long, one was larger still. I watched them anxiously. The largest one came at the boat quickly, as if to attack, its dorsal fin rising out of the water by several inches, but it dipped below just before reaching us and glided underfoot with fearsome grace. It returned, not coming so close this time, then disappeared. The other sharks paid a longer visit, coming and going at different depths, some in plain sight at hand's reach below the surface of the water, others deeper down. There were other fish too, big and small, colourful, differently shaped. I might have considered them more closely had my attention not been drawn elsewhere: Orange Juice's head came into sight.

She turned and brought her arm onto the tarpaulin in a motion that imitated exactly the way you or I would bring out an arm and place it on the back of the chair next to our own in a gesture of expansive relaxation. But such was clearly not her disposition. Bearing an expression profoundly sad and mournful, she began to look about, slowly turning her head from side to side. Instantly the likeness of apes lost its amusing character. She had given birth at the zoo to two young ones, strapping males five and eight years old that were her-and our-pride. It was unmistakably these she had on her mind as she searched over the water, unintentionally mimicking what I had been doing these last thirty-six hours. She noticed me and expressed nothing about it. I was just another animal that had lost everything and was vowed to death. My mood plummeted.

Then, with only a snarl for notice, the hyena went amok. It hadn't moved from its cramped quarters all day. It put its front legs on the zebra's side, reached over and gathered a fold of skin in its jaws. It pulled roughly. A strip of hide came off the zebra's belly like gift-wrap paper comes off a gift, in a smooth-edged swath, only silently, in the way of tearing skin, and with greater resistance. Immediately blood poured forth like a river. Barking, snorting and squealing, the zebra came to life to defend itself. It pushed on its front legs and reared its head in an attempt to bite the hyena, but the beast was out of reach. It shook its good hind leg, which did no more than explain the origin of the previous night's knocking: it was the hoof beating against the side of the boat. The zebras attempts at self-preservation only whipped the hyena into a frenzy of snarling and biting. It made a gaping wound in the zebra's side. When it was no longer satisfied with the reach it had from behind the zebra, the hyena climbed onto its haunches. It started pulling out coils of intestines and other viscera.

There was no order to what it was doing. It bit here, swallowed there, seemingly overwhelmed by the riches before it. After devouring half the liver, it started tugging on the whitish, balloon-like stomach bag. But it was heavy, and with the zebra's haunches being higher than its belly-and blood being slippery-the hyena started to slide into its victim. It plunged head and shoulders into the zebra's guts, up to the knees of its front legs. It pushed itself out, only to slide back down. It finally settled in this position, half in, half out. The zebra was being eaten alive from the inside.

It protested with diminishing vigour. Blood started coming out its nostrils. Once or twice it reared its head straight up, as if appealing to heaven-the abomination of the moment was perfectly expressed.

Orange Juice did not view these doings indifferently. She raised herself to her full height on her bench. With her incongruously small legs and massive torso, she looked like a refrigerator on crooked wheels. But with her giant arms lifted in the air, she looked impressive. Their span was greater than her height-one hand hung over the water, the other reached across the width of the lifeboat nearly to the opposite side. She pulled back her lips, showing off enormous canines, and began to roar. It was a deep, powerful, huffing roar, amazing for an animal normally as silent as a giraffe. The hyena was as startled as I was by the outburst. It cringed and retreated. But not for long. After an intense stare at Orange Juice, the hairs on its neck and shoulders stood up and its tail rose straight in the air. It climbed back onto the dying zebra. There, blood dripping from its mouth, it responded to Orange Juice in kind, with a higher-pitched roar. The two animals were three feet apart, wide-open jaws directly facing. They put all their energies into their cries, their bodies shaking with the effort. I could see deep down the hyena's throat. The Pacific air, which until a minute before had been carrying the whistling and whispering of the sea, a natural melody I would have called soothing had the circumstances been happier, was all at once filled with this appalling noise, like the fury of an all-out battle, with the ear-splitting firing of guns and cannons and the thunderous blasts of bombs. The hyena's roar filled the higher range of what my ears could hear, Orange Juice's bass roar filled the lower range, and somewhere in between I could hear the cries of the helpless zebra. My ears were full. Nothing more, not one more sound, could push into them and be registered.

I began to tremble uncontrollably. I was convinced the hyena was going to lunge at Orange Juice.

I could not imagine that matters could get worse, but they did. The zebra snorted some of its blood overboard. Seconds later there was a hard knock against the boat, followed by another. The water began to churn around us with sharks. They were searching for the source of the blood, for the food so close at hand. Their tail fins flashed out of the water, their heads swung out. The boat was hit repeatedly. I was not afraid we would capsize-I thought the sharks would actually punch through the metal hull and sink us.

With every bang the animals jumped and looked alarmed, but they were not to be distracted from their main business of roaring in each others faces. I was certain the shouting match would turn physical. Instead it broke off abruptly after a few minutes. Orange Juice, with huffs and lip-smacking noises, turned away, and the hyena lowered its head and retreated behind the zebra's butchered body. The sharks, finding nothing, stopped knocking on the boat and eventually left. Silence fell at last.

A foul and pungent smell, an earthy mix of rust and excrement, hung in the air. There was blood everywhere, coagulating to a deep red crust. A single fly buzzed about, sounding to me like an alarm bell of insanity. No ship, nothing at all, had appeared on the horizon that day, and now the day was ending. When the sun slipped below the horizon, it was not only the day that died and the poor zebra, but my family as well. With that second sunset, disbelief gave way to pain and grief. They were dead; I could no longer deny it. What a thing to acknowledge in your heart! To lose a brother is to lose someone with whom you can share the experience of growing old, who is supposed to bring you a sister-in-law and nieces and nephews, creatures to people the tree of your life and give it new branches. To lose your father is to lose the one whose guidance and help you seek, who supports you like a tree trunk supports its branches. To lose your mother, well, that is like losing the sun above you. It is like losing-I'm sorry, I would rather not go on. I lay down on the tarpaulin and spent the whole night weeping and grieving, my face buried in my arms. The hyena spent a good part of the night eating.

第四十六章

    在船只应该出现的地方堆积起来的云层和渐渐消逝的白天慢慢将我微笑的弯弯的嘴角拉直了。要说这一夜或那一夜是我一生中最糟糕的夜晚，这是毫无意义的。我度过了那么多糟糕的夜晚，没有一夜可以被评为糟糕之最。但是，在我的记忆中，在海上度过的第二个夜晚异常痛苦，这种痛苦与第一夜焦虑得发呆的情况不同，那种焦虑是更常见的痛苦，是崩溃，包括哭泣、伤心和精神痛苦；这种痛苦与后来的痛苦也不同，后来我还能有力气去充分体会自己的感受。在那个可怕的夜晚之前，是一个可怕的傍晚。

    我注意到救生艇周围有鲨鱼出现。太阳已经开始拉上帷幕，白天就要结束了。那是橘黄色和红色平静的爆发，是一首伟大的变音交响乐，是一块超自然尺寸的彩色画布，那是太平洋上一次真正壮丽的日落，而我却没能好好欣赏。那几条鲨鱼是灰鲭鲨——速度极快的尖鼻子食肉动物，长长的杀人的牙齿引人注目地从嘴里伸出来。它们大约有六七英尺长，其中一条还要更大一些。我不安地看着它们。最大的一条迅速朝船游过来，似乎要发起袭击，它的背鳍伸出了水面好几英寸，但就在快要到船面前时，它却没入水中，以令人畏惧的优雅动作在水下滑行。它转过身来，这一次游得不那么近，然后消失了。其他鲨鱼在船附近待的时间更长一些，在不同深度的水中来来回回地游，有几条就在伸手可及的水面下，看得清清楚楚，还有几条在更深酌水里。还有其他的鱼，大大小小，五颜六色，形状各异。要不是我的注意力被吸引到别处去，也许我会更仔细地打量它们的：“橘子汁”进入了我的视线。

    她转过身来，把手臂放在油布上，那动作就像你我抬起胳膊，非常放松地搭在旁边的椅子背上一模一样。但是她显然并放松。她带着一副非常伤心悲痛的表情，开始四处张望，慢慢地把头从一边转身向另一边。就在那一瞬间，我们与猿猴之间的相似之处变得并不可笑了。她在动物园里生了两只小猩猩，这两只雄性猩猩分别有5岁和8岁，它们身强体壮，是她的骄傲，也是我们的骄傲。毫无疑问，她在仔细搜寻水面，不经意之间模仿着我在过去36个小时内所做的事的时候，心里牵挂的就是他们。她注意到了我，却没有表达自己的心情。我只是另一只失去了一切、必死无疑的动物。我的情绪突然变糟了。

    后来，鬣狗只嗥叫了一声，算是征兆，然后便露出了杀气。它已经一整天没有从狭窄的住舱里出来了。现在，它把前腿搭在斑马体侧，仲过头去，用嘴咬住了一块皮，用力地拽。斑马肚子上的一长条皮被拽了下来，像礼物外面的包装纸被撕开了边缘整齐、又长又宽的一条，只是现在被撕下来的是皮，因此没有声音，而且遇到了很大的阻力。血立刻像河水一样喷涌而出。斑马恢复了生气，吠叫着，喷着鼻息，发出长长的尖叫声，来保护自己。它匆匆迈着前腿，昂起头，想要咬鬣狗，但却够不到那头野兽。它摇晃着那条好的后腿，却只说明了．前一天晚上敲打声的来源：那是蹄子敲打船侧发出的声音。斑马保全自己的努力只让鬣狗突然疯狂地嗥叫和撕咬起来。斑马的体侧有了一个裂开的伤口。鬣狗已经不再满足于从斑马背后伸头去咬，它爬到了班马的腰上。它开始从斑马肚子里拽出一团团的肠子和其他内脏。它的行为没有任何规律。它在这儿咬一口，在那儿吞一口，似乎被眼前这么丰盛的食物弄得不知所措。吞下半个肝脏以后，它又开始用力扯发白的气球一样的胃囊。但是胃囊很重，而且斑马的腰部比它的腹部要高，血又很滑，于是鬣狗开始滑进受害者的身体里。它猛地把头和肩膀伸迸斑马的内脏，连前腿膝盖都进去了。然后它又想把自己拖出来，却滑了下来。最后它固定了这样一个姿势，一半身体在里面，一半身体在外面。斑马在从身体内部开始被活活吃掉。

    它反抗的力气越来越小。血开始从它的鼻孔里流出来。有一两次，它笔直地昂起头，似乎在向上苍乞求——淋漓尽致地表达了那一刻的憎恶。

    “橘子汁”并没有漠不关心地目睹这一切。她从坐板上完全站了起来。巨大的身躯和短小得不相称的腿让她看上去像一台架在扭曲的轮子上的冰箱。但是她高高地举起巨大手臂的样子十分威严。她两只手臂伸展开的长度比她的身高还长。她一只手臂悬在水上，另一只手臂几乎能横着伸到救生艇另一边。她缩回嘴唇，露出巨大的犬齿，开始咆哮起来。

    叫声低沉、有力，带着愤怒，一个平常像长颈鹿一样安静的动物像这样叫，真令人惊奇。鬣狗和我一样被突然爆发的叫声吓了一跳。但时间不长。在紧张地盯着“橘子汁”看了一眼之后，它脖子上和背上的毛竖了起来，尾巴也直直地向上竖了起来。它爬回到奄奄一息的斑马身上，嘴上滴着血，同样用高声的吼叫回敬“橘子汁”。两只动物相距3英尺，嘴巴张得大大的，面对着面。它们把所有的力气都用来叫喊，身体因为用力而颤抖着。我能看到鬣狗的喉咙深处。一分钟之前，太平洋上的空气中还响着大海的啸叫声和低语声，这是一种自然的旋律，在更快乐的情况下，我可以称之为令人心旷神怡，现在却突然充斥了这种可怕的噪音．像一场大规模的猛烈战斗中震耳的枪炮声和雷鸣般的爆炸声。我耳朵所能

    听见的高音域部分充斥着鬣狗的吼叫声，低音域部分充斥着“橘子汁”的低沉吼叫声，在这两部分之间是斑马的无助的叫卢。我的耳朵被各种声音塞满了。没有别的声音，没有任何一种别的声音能够挤过这些声音，被我听到。

    我开始无法控制地颤抖起来，我坚信鬣狗要朝“橘子汁”冲过去了。

    我无法想像事情还能比这更糟，但事情的确变得更糟了。斑马把一些血喷进了海里。几秒钟后，船被重重敲了一下，接着又是一下。我们周围的海水开始被鲨鱼搅得浪花翻滚。它们在寻找血的来源，寻找近在嘴边的食物。它们的尾鳝迅速在水上掠过，头突然伸出水面。船不停地遭到撞击。我并不担心船会翻——我想鲨鱼实际上会穿过金属船壳，把船弄沉。

    船每次被撞一下，那两只动物都会跳起来，看上去像受了惊，但是它们主要的事就是互相吼叫，它们是不会从这件事上分心的。我肯定这场吼叫比赛会变成身体对抗。然而叫声却突然中断了几分钟。“橘子汁”气呼呼地咂着嘴转过身去，而鬣狗则低下头，退回到斑马被宰割的身体后面。鲨鱼什么也没找到，于是停止敲船，最后离开了。一切终于安静下来。

    空气中飘浮着刺鼻的恶臭，一种锈蚀和排泄物相混合的土腥味。到处都是血，渐渐凝结成深红色的硬壳。只有一只苍蝇嗡嗡地飞，在我听来像报告疯狂的警铃。那天，地平线上没有出现船只，没有出现任何东西。现在一天就要结束了。当太阳滑到地平线下面的时候，逝去的不仅是白天和可怜的斑马，还有我的家人。第二次日落时，不相信被痛苦和悲伤所取代。他们死了；我不能再否认。这是你心里必须承认的一件什么样的事啊！失去一位哥哥就失去了一个可以分享成长经历的人，一个应该给你带来嫂子和侄子侄女的人，他们是为你的生命之树增添新的枝叶的人。失去父亲就失去了你可以寻求指导和帮助的人，一个像树干支撑树枝一样支持你的人。失去母亲，啊，那就像失去了你头顶的太阳。那就像失去了——对不起，我不想再说下去了。我在油布上躺下，脸埋在胳膊里，伤心哭泣了一整夜。鬣狗夜里的大都分时间都在吃。