9
第09节
The first thing I did when I got off at Penn Station, I went into this phone booth. I felt like giving somebody a buzz. I left my bags right outside the booth so that I could watch them, but as soon as I was inside, I couldn't think of anybody to call up. My brother D.B. was in Hollywood. My kid sister Phoebe goes to bed around nine o'clock--so I couldn't call her up. She wouldn't've cared if I'd woke her up, but the trouble was, she wouldn't've been the one that answered the phone. My parents would be the ones. So that was out. Then I thought of giving Jane Gallagher's mother a buzz, and find out when Jane's vacation started, but I didn't feel like it. Besides, it was pretty late to call up. Then I thought of calling this girl I used to go around with quite frequently, Sally Hayes, because I knew her Christmas vacation had started already--she'd written me this long, phony letter, inviting me over to help her trim the Christmas tree Christmas Eve and all--but I was afraid her mother'd answer the phone. Her mother knew my mother, and I could picture her breaking a goddam leg to get to the phone and tell my mother I was in New York. Besides, I wasn't crazy about talking to old Mrs. Hayes on the phone. She once told Sally I was wild. She said I was wild and that I had no direction in life. Then I thought of calling up this guy that went to the Whooton School when I was there, Carl Luce, but I didn't like him much. So I ended up not calling anybody. I came out of the booth, after about twenty minutes or so, and got my bags and walked over to that tunnel where the cabs are and got a cab.
我下车进了潘恩车站，头一件事就是进电话间打电话。我很想跟什么人通通话。我把我的手提箱放在电话间门口，以便照看，可我进了里边，一时又想不起跟谁通话。我哥哥DB在好莱坞。我的小妹妹菲芘在九点左右就上床了——所以我不能打电话给她。我要是把她叫醒，她倒是不在乎，可问题在于接电话的不会是她，而是我的父母。所以这电话决不能打。接着我想到给琴·迦拉格的母亲挂个电话，打听一下琴的假期什么时候开始，可我又不怎么想打。再说时间也太晚了。我于是想到打电话给那位常常跟我在一起的女朋友萨丽·海斯，因为我知道她已放圣诞假了——她写了封又长又假的信给我，请我在圣诞前夕到她家去帮她修剪圣诞树——可我又怕她母亲来接电话。她母亲认识我母亲，我可以想象到她一接到电话，也就不怕摔断他妈的腿，马上急煎煎打电话去通知我母亲，说我已经到纽约了。再说，我也不怎么想跟老海斯太太通话。她有一次告诉萨丽说我太野。她说我太野，没有生活的目标。我于是又想起打电话给那个我在胡敦中学时的同学卡尔·路斯，可我不怎么喜欢他。所以我在电话间里呆了约莫二十分钟，却没打电话就走了出来，拿起我的手提箱，走向停出租汽车的地道，叫了辆汽车。
I'm so damn absent-minded, I gave the driver my regular address, just out of habit and all--I mean I completely forgot I was going to shack up in a hotel for a couple of days and not go home till vacation started.
我当时真他妈的心不在焉，竟出于老习惯，把我家里的地址告诉了司机——我是说我压根儿忘了我要到旅馆里去住两三天，到假期开始后才回家。
I didn't think of it till we were halfway through the park. Then I said, "Hey, do you mind turning around when you get a chance? I gave you the wrong address. I want to go back downtown."
直到汽车在公园里走了一半，我才想起这件事来，于是我就说：“嗨，你一有机会，马上拐回去成不成？我把地址说错啦。我想回市中心去。”
The driver was sort of a wise guy. "I can't turn around here, Mac. This here's a one-way. I'll have to go all the way to Ninedieth Street now."
司机是个机灵鬼。“这儿可没法拐，麦克。是条单行线。我得一直开到九十号路。”
I didn't want to start an argument. "Okay," I said. Then I thought of something, all of a sudden. "Hey, listen," I said. "You know those ducks in that lagoon right near Central Park South? That little lake? By any chance, do you happen to know where they go, the ducks, when it gets all frozen over? Do you happen to know, by any chance?" I realized it was only one chance in a million.
我不想跟他争论。“好吧，”我说。接着刹那间我想起了一件事。“嗨，听着，”我说。“你知道中央公园南头浅水湖附近的那些鸭子吗？那个小湖？我问你，在湖水冻严实以后，你可知道这些鸭子都上哪儿去了？你知道不知道，我问你？”我知道多半是白问，只有百万分之一可能性。
He turned around and looked at me like I was a madman. "What're ya tryna do, bud?" he said. "Kid me?"
他回过头来瞅着我，好象我是疯子似的。“你这是要干吗，老弟？”他说。“拿我开玩笑吗？”
"No--I was just interested, that's all."
“不——我只是很感兴趣，问问罢了。”
He didn't say anything more, so I didn't either. Until we came out of the park at Ninetieth Street. Then he said, "All right, buddy. Where to?"
他没再言语，我也一样。直到汽车出了公园，开到九十号路，他才说：“好吧，老弟。上哪儿？”
"Well, the thing is, I don't want to stay at any hotels on the East Side where I might run into some acquaintances of mine. I'm traveling incognito," I said. I hate saying corny things like "traveling incognito." But when I'm with somebody that's corny, I always act corny too. "Do you happen to know whose band's at the Taft or the New Yorker, by any chance?"
“呃，问题是，我不想往东区的旅馆，怕遇见熟人。我是在微服旅行，”我说。我最讨厌说“微服旅行”这类粗俗的话，可是每遇到一些粗俗的人，我自己也就装得很粗俗。“你可知道在塔夫特或者纽约人夜总会里，是谁的乐队在伴奏，请问？”
"No idear, Mac."
“不知道，麦克。”
"Well--take me to the Edmont then," I said. "Would you care to stop on the way and join me for a cocktail? On me. I'm loaded."
“呃——送我到爱德蒙吧，那么，”我说。“你在半路上停一下，我请你喝杯鸡尾酒好不好？我请客。我身上有的是钱。”
"Can't do it, Mac. Sorry." He certainly was good company. Terrific personality.
“不成，麦克，对不起。”他真是个好伴侣。可怕的性格。
We got to the Edmont Hotel, and I checked in. I'd put on my red hunting cap when I was in the cab, just for the hell of it, but I took it off before I checked in. I didn't want to look like a screwball or something. Which is really ironic. I didn't know then that the goddam hotel was full of perverts and morons. Screwballs all over the place.
我们到了爱德蒙旅馆，我就去开了个房间。在汽车里我又戴上了我那顶红色猎人帽，完全是聊以解闷，可我进旅馆之前又把它脱下了。我不愿把自己打扮成一个怪人。说起来也真滑稽可笑。我当时并不知道那个混帐旅馆里住的全是变态的和痴呆的怪人。到处是怪人。
They gave me this very crumby room, with nothing to look out of the window at except the other side of the hotel. I didn't care much. I was too depressed to care whether I had a good view or not. The bellboy that showed me to the room was this very old guy around sixty-five. He was even more depressing than the room was. He was one of those bald guys that comb all their hair over from the side to cover up the baldness. I'd rather be bald than do that. Anyway, what a gorgeous job for a guy around sixty-five years old. Carrying people's suitcases and waiting around for a tip. I suppose he wasn't too intelligent or anything, but it was terrible anyway.
他们给了我一个十分简陋的房间，从窗口望出去什么也看不见，只看见旅馆的另外一边。我可不怎么在乎。我心里沮丧得要命，就顾不得窗外的景色好不好了。领我进房间的侍者是个六十五岁左右的老头子，他这人甚至比房间更叫人泄气。他正是那一类秃子，爱把所有的头发全都梳向一边，来遮掩自己的秃顶。要是我，就宁可露出秃顶，也不干这样的事。不管怎样，让一个六十五岁左右的老头子来干这种活儿，也未免太难了。给人提行李，等着人赏小费。我猜想他大概没什么知识，可不管怎样，那也太可怕了。
After he left, I looked out the window for a while, with my coat on and all. I didn't have anything else to do. You'd be surprised what was going on on the other side of the hotel. They didn't even bother to pull their shades down. I saw one guy, a gray-haired, very distinguished-looking guy with only his shorts on, do something you wouldn't believe me if I told you. First he put his suitcase on the bed. Then he took out all these women's clothes, and put them on. Real women's clothes--silk stockings, high-heeled shoes, brassiere, and one of those corsets with the straps hanging down and all. Then he put on this very tight black evening dress. I swear to God. Then he started walking up and down the room, taking these very small steps, the way a woman does, and smoking a cigarette and looking at himself in the mirror. He was all alone, too. Unless somebody was in the bathroom--I couldn't see that much. Then, in the window almost right over his, I saw a man and a woman squirting water out of their mouths at each other. It probably was highballs, not water, but I couldn't see what they had in their glasses. Anyway, first he'd take a swallow and squirt it all over her, then she did it to him--they took turns, for God's sake. You should've seen them. They were in hysterics the whole time, like it was the funniest thing that ever happened. I'm not kidding, the hotel was lousy with perverts. I was probably the only normal bastard in the whole place--and that isn't saying much. I damn near sent a telegram to old Stradlater telling him to take the first train to New York. He'd have been the king of the hotel.
他走后，我也没脱大衣什么的，就站在窗边往外眺望一会儿。我没别的事可做。可是旅馆那一边房间里在干些什么，你听了准会吃惊。他们甚至都不把窗帘拉上。我看见有个头发花白的家伙，看样子还很有身份，光穿着裤衩在干一件我说出来你决不相信的事。他先把自己的手提箱放在床上。然后他拿出整整一套妇女服装，开始穿戴起来。那是一套真正妇女服装——长统丝袜，高跟皮鞋，奶罩，搭拉着两条背带的衬裙，等等。随后他穿上了一件腰身极小的黑色晚礼服。我可以对天发誓。随后他在房间里走来走去，象女人那样迈着极小的步于，一边还抽烟照镜子。而且只有他一个人在房里。除非有人在浴室里——这我看不见。后来，就在他上面的那个窗口，我又看见一对男女在用嘴彼此喷水。也许是加冰的威士忌苏打，不是水，可我看不出他们杯子里盛的是什么。嗯，他先喝一口，喷了她一身，接着她也照样喷他——他们就这样轮流着喷来喷去，我的老天爷。你真应该见见他们。在整个时间内他们都歇斯底里发作，好象这是世界上最最好玩的事儿。我不开玩笑，这家旅馆确是住满心理变态的人。我也许是这地方唯一的正常人了——而我这么说一点也不夸大。我真想他妈的拍个电报给老斯特拉德莱塔，叫他搭最快一班火车直奔纽约。他准可以在这旅馆里称王哩。
The trouble was, that kind of junk is sort of fascinating to watch, even if you don't want it to be. For instance, that girl that was getting water squirted all over her face, she was pretty good-looking. I mean that's my big trouble. In my mind, I'm probably the biggest sex maniac you ever saw. Sometimes I can think of very crumby stuff I wouldn't mind doing if the opportunity came up. I can even see how it might be quite a lot of fun, in a crumby way, and if you were both sort of drunk and all, to get a girl and squirt water or something all over each other's face. The thing is, though, I don't like the idea. It stinks, if you analyze it. I think if you don't really like a girl, you shouldn't horse around with her at all, and if you do like her, then you're supposed to like her face, and if you like her face, you ought to be careful about doing crumby stuff to it, like squirting water all over it. It's really too bad that so much crumby stuff is a lot of fun sometimes. Girls aren't too much help, either, when you start trying not to get too crumby, when you start trying not to spoil anything really good. I knew this one girl, a couple of years ago, that was even crumbier than I was. Boy, was she crumby! We had a lot of fun, though, for a while, in a crumby way. Sex is something I really don't understand too hot. You never know where the hell you are. I keep making up these sex rules for myself, and then I break them right away. Last year I made a rule that I was going to quit horsing around with girls that, deep down, gave me a pain in the ass. I broke it, though, the same week I made it--the same night, as a matter of fact. I spent the whole night necking with a terrible phony named Anne Louise Sherman. Sex is something I just don't understand. I swear to God I don't.
糟糕的是，这类下流玩艺儿瞧着还相当迷人，尽管你心里颇不以为然。举例说，这个给喷得满脸是水的姑娘，长得却十分漂亮。我是说这是我最糟糕的地方。在我的内心中，我这人也许是天底下最最大的色情狂。有时候，我能想出一些十分下流的勾当，只要有机会，我也不会不干。我甚至想象得出，要是男女双方都喝醉了酒，你要是能找到那么个姑娘，可以彼此往脸上喷水什么的，那该有多好玩——尽管有些下流。不过问题是，我不喜欢这种做法。你要是仔细一分析，就会发现这种做法非常下流。我想，你要是真不喜欢一个女人，那就干脆别跟她在一起厮混；你要是真喜欢她呢，就该喜欢她的脸，你要是喜欢她的脸，就应该小心爱护它，不应该对它干那种下流事，如往它上面喷水。真正糟糕的是，许多下流的事情有时候干起来却十分有趣。而女人们也好不了多少；如果你不想干太下流的事，如果你不想毁坏真正好的东西，她们反倒不乐意。一两年前，我就遇到过一个姑娘，甚至比我还要下流。嘿，她真是下流极了！我们用一种下流的方式狂欢了一阵，虽然时间不长。性这样东西，我委实不太了解。你简直不知道他妈的你自己身在何处。我老给自己定下有关性方面的规则，可是马上就破坏。去年我定下规则，决不跟那些叫我内心深处觉得厌恶的始娘一起厮混。这个规则，我没出一个星期就破坏了——事实上，在立下规则的当天晚上就破坏了。我跟一个叫安妮的浪荡货搂搂抱抱的整整胡闹了一晚。性这样东西，我的确不太了解。我可以对天发誓我不太了解。
I started toying with the idea, while I kept standing there, of giving old Jane a buzz--I mean calling her long distance at B.M., where she went, instead of calling up her mother to find out when she was coming home. You weren't supposed to call students up late at night, but I had it all figured out. I was going to tell whoever answered the phone that I was her uncle. I was going to say her aunt had just got killed in a car accident and I had to speak to her immediately. It would've worked, too. The only reason I didn't do it was because I wasn't in the mood. If you're not in the mood, you can't do that stuff right.
我站在窗口不动，心里却起了个念头，琢磨着要不要给琴挂个电话——我是说挂个长途电话到BM，就是到她念书的那个学校，而不是打电话给她妈，打听她在什么时候回家。照说是不应该在深更半夜打电话给学生的，可我什么都核计好了。我打算跟不管哪个接电话的人说我是她舅舅。我打算说她舅母刚才撞车死了，我现在马上要找她说话。这样做，本来是可能成功的。我没这么做的唯一原因是我当时情绪不对头。你要是没那种情绪，这类事是做不好的。
After a while I sat down in a chair and smoked a couple of cigarettes. I was feeling pretty horny. I have to admit it. Then, all of a sudden, I got this idea. I took out my wallet and started looking for this address a guy I met at a party last summer, that went to Princeton, gave me. Finally I found it. It was all a funny color from my wallet, but you could still read it. It was the address of this girl that wasn't exactly a whore or anything but that didn't mind doing it once in a while, this Princeton guy told me. He brought her to a dance at Princeton once, and they nearly kicked him out for bringing her. She used to be a burlesque stripper or something.
过了一会儿我在一把椅子上坐下，抽了一两支烟。我的性欲上来了，我不得不承认。后来刹那间，我想起了一个主意。我拿出了我的皮夹，开始寻找一个地址，那地址是我今年夏天在舞会上遇到的一个在布林斯敦念书的家伙给我的。最后我找到了那地址，纸已褪了色，可还辨认得出字迹。地址上的那个姑娘不完全是个妓女，可也不反对偶尔客串一次，那个布林斯敦家伙是这样告诉我的。他有一次带了她去参加布林斯敦的舞会，差点儿就为这件事给开除出学校。她好象是个脱衣舞女什么的。
Anyway, I went over to the phone and gave her a buzz. Her name was Faith Cavendish, and she lived at the Stanford Arms Hotel on Sixty-fifth and Broadway. A dump, no doubt.
不管怎样，我走到电话机旁边，给她挂了个电话。她的名字叫费丝，住在百老汇六十五条街斯丹福旅馆。一个垃圾堆，毫无疑问。
For a while, I didn t think she was home or something. Nobody kept answering. Then, finally, somebody picked up the phone.
一时间，我还以为她不在家里。半晌没人接电话。最后有人拿起了话筒。
"Hello?" I said. I made my voice quite deep so that she wouldn't suspect my age or anything. I have a pretty deep voice anyway.
“哈罗？”我说。我把自己的声音装得很深沉，不让她怀疑我的年龄或者别的什么。反正我的声音本来就很深沉。
"Hello," this woman's voice said. None too friendly, either.
“哈罗，”那女人的声音说，并不太客气。
"Is this Miss Faith Cavendish?"
“是费丝小姐吗？”
"Who's this?" she said. "Who's calling me up at this crazy goddam hour?"
“你是谁？”她说。“是谁在他妈的这个混帐时间打电话给我？”
That sort of scared me a little bit. "Well, I know it's quite late," I said, in this very mature voice and all. "I hope you'll forgive me, but I was very anxious to get in touch with you." I said it suave as hell. I really did.
我听了倒是稍稍有点儿害怕。“呃，我知道时间已经挺晚啦，”我说，用的是成年人那种极成熟的声音。“我希望您能原谅我，我实在太急于跟您联系啦。”我说话的口气温柔得要命。的确是的。
"Who is this?" she said.
“你是谁？”她说。
"Well, you don't know me, but I'm a friend of Eddie Birdsell's. He suggested that if I were in town sometime, we ought to get together for a cocktail or two."
“呃，您不认识我，可我是爱迪的朋友。他跟我说，我要是进城，可以请您一块儿喝一两杯鸡尾酒。”
"Who? You're a friend of who?" Boy, she was a real tigress over the phone. She was damn near yelling at me.
“谁？你是谁的朋友？”嘿，她在电话里真象只雌老虎。她简直是在跟我大声呦喝。
"Edmund Birdsell. Eddie Birdsell," I said. I couldn't remember if his name was Edmund or Edward. I only met him once, at a goddam stupid party.
“爱德蒙·爱迪，”我说。我已记不起他的名字是爱德蒙还是爱德华。我只遇见过他一次，是在他妈的那个混帐舞会上遇见的。
"I don't know anybody by that name, Jack. And if you think I enjoy bein' woke up in the middle--"
“我不认识叫这名字的人，杰克。你要是认为我高兴让人在深更半夜——”
"Eddie Birdsell? From Princeton?" I said.
“爱迪·布林斯敦的？”我说。
You could tell she was running the name over in her mind and all.
你感觉得出她正在搜索记忆，想这个名字。
"Birdsell, Birdsell. . . from Princeton.. . Princeton College?"
“是不是布林斯敦学院？”
"That's right," I said.
“对啦，”我说。
"You from Princeton College?"
“你是打布林斯敦学院来的？”
"Well, approximately."
“呃，差不离。”
"Oh. . . How is Eddie?" she said. "This is certainly a peculiar time to call a person up, though. Jesus Christ."
“哦……爱迪好吗？”她说。“不过在这时候打电话找人，真叫人意想不到。老天爷。”
"He's fine. He asked to be remembered to you."
“他挺好。他叫我向您问好。”
"Well, thank you. Remember me to him," she said.
“呃，谢谢您。请您代我向他问好。”她说。
He's a grand person. What's he doing now? She was getting friendly as hell, all of a sudden.
“他这人再好没有。他这会儿在干什么？”刹那间，她变得客气的要命。
"Oh, you know. Same old stuff," I said. How the hell did I know what he was doing? I hardly knew the guy. I didn't even know if he was still at Princeton. "Look," I said. "Would you be interested in meeting me for a cocktail somewhere?"
“哦，你知道的。还是那套老玩艺儿，”我说；他妈的我哪知道他是在干什么？我都不怎么认识他。我甚至都不知道他这会儿是不是依旧在布林斯敦。“瞧，”我说。“您能不能赏光在哪儿跟我碰头，喝一杯鸡尾酒？”
"By any chance do you have any idea what time it is?" she said. "What's your name, anyhow, may I ask?" She was getting an English accent, all of a sudden. "You sound a little on the young side."
“我问您，您可知道现在是什么时间啦？”她说。“您到底叫什么名字，请问？”一刹时，她换了英国口音。“听您的声音，好象还挺年轻。”
I laughed. "Thank you for the compliment," I said-- suave as hell. "Holden Caulfield's my name." I should've given her a phony name, but I didn't think of it.
我噗哧一笑。“谢谢您的恭维，”我说——温柔得要命。“我的名字是霍尔顿·考尔菲德。”我本应当给她个假名字的，可我一时没想到。
"Well, look, Mr. Cawffle. I'm not in the habit of making engagements in the middle of the night. I'm a working gal."
“呃，瞧，考菲尔先生，我可不习惯在深更半夜跟人约会。我是个有工作的。”
"Tomorrow's Sunday," I told her.
“明天是星期天，”我对她说。
"Well, anyway. I gotta get my beauty sleep. You know how it is."
“呃，不管怎样，我得好好睡一会儿，保持我的青春，您也知道这个道理。”
"I thought we might have just one cocktail together. It isn't too late."
“我本来想咱俩也许可以在一块儿喝杯鸡尾洒。时间还不算太晚。”
"Well. You're very sweet," she said. "Where ya callin' from? Where ya at now, anyways?"
“呢。您真客气，”她说。“您是在哪儿打的电话？您这会儿是在哪儿，嗯？”
"Me? I'm in a phone booth."
“我？我是在公用电话间里。”
"Oh," she said. Then there was this very long pause. "Well, I'd like awfully to get together with you sometime, Mr. Cawffle. You sound very attractive. You sound like a very attractive person. But it is late."
“哦，”她说。接着沉默了半晌。“呃，我非常愿意在什么时候跟您一块儿玩玩，考菲尔先生。听您的声音十分可爱。您好象是个极可爱的人。不过时间实在太晚啦。”
"I could come up to your place."
“我可以上您家来。”
"Well, ordinary, I'd say grand. I mean I'd love to have you drop up for a cocktail, but my roommate happens to be ill. She's been laying here all night without a wink of sleep. She just this minute closed her eyes and all. I mean."
“呃，在平时，我会说这再好没有了。我是说我倒是很高兴您上我家来喝杯鸡尾酒，可是不巧得很，跟我同屋的那位恰好病了。她整整一晚都不曾合眼，这会儿才刚睡着哩。”
"Oh. That's too bad."
“哦。这真太糟糕啦。”
"Where ya stopping at? Perhaps we could get together for cocktails tomorrow."
“您往在哪儿？明天咱们也许可以一块儿喝鸡尾酒。”
"I can't make it tomorrow," I said. "Tonight's the only time I can make it." What a dope I was. I shouldn't've said that.
“明天可不成，”我说。“我只在今天晚上有空。”我真是个大傻瓜。我不应该这样说的。
"Oh. Well, I'm awfully sorry."
“哦。呃，真是对不起得很。”
"I'll say hello to Eddie for you."
“我可以代您向爱迪问好。”
"Willya do that? I hope you enjoy your stay in New York. It's a grand place."
“您肯吗？我希望您在纽约玩得痛快。这是个再好没有的地方。”
"I know it is. Thanks. Good night," I said. Then I hung up.
“这我知道。谢谢，再见吧，”我说，接着就把电话挂了。
Boy, I really fouled that up. I should've at least made it for cocktails or something.
嘿，我真正把事情搞糟啦。我本应该至少约她出来喝喝鸡尾酒什么的。