凡妮莎・笛芬堡(Vanessa Diffenbaugh, 1978~),美国作家,出生于美国旧金山,在加州奇科城长大。她曾在斯坦福大学攻读写作和写作教学,毕业后到低收入小区教授艺术和写作课程。凡妮莎是山茶花互助网(Camellia Network)的创办人,该互助网的目标是鼓励全国上下以实际行动支持在寄养或领养机构长大的小孩适应环境,融入新团体。凡妮莎的作品《花语女孩》(The Language of Flowers)于2011年出版,讲述了一个善用花语表达感情的孤女维多利亚(Victoria)的故事。维多利亚童年时一时不慎错失了被真心爱她的人领养的机会,亲手毁掉了自己的生活,长大后历经艰辛才找到回家的路,回归爱与家庭。
下文选自小说第二部分“不懂爱的心”中的第八章,讲述的是内心脆弱敏感的维多利亚在被伊丽莎白(Elizabeth)正式领养前无意中听到伊丽莎白打电话而引发的波折。
精彩片段
Before bed, we marked off each day on a calendar in my room. Throughout January, I simply scratched1) a small red X in the box underneath the date, but by the end of March, I wrote the high and low temperature, as Elizabeth did on her own calendar, what we had eaten for dinner, and a list of the day's activities. Elizabeth cut a stack of Post―it's the size of the calendar's squares, and many evenings I filled five or six sheets before crawling into bed.
More than a nightly ritual, the calendar was a countdown. August second―the day after my supposed birthday―was highlighted, the entire box colored pink. In black felt-tip2), Elizabeth had written eleven a.m., third floor, room 305. The law mandated3) I live with Elizabeth for a full year before my adoption could be finalized; Meredith4) had scheduled our court date for a year to the day from my arrival.
I checked the watch Elizabeth had given me. Another ten minutes before she would let me back inside. I leaned my head against the vine's bare branches. The first bright green leaves had sprouted5) from tight buds6), and I studied them, perfect, fingernail-sized versions of what they would become. Smelling one, I nibbled7) a corner, thinking I would write in my journal about the taste of a grapevine, before the grapes. I checked my watch again. Five minutes.
Out of the quiet, I heard Elizabeth's voice. It was clear, confident, and for a moment I thought she was calling me. Scampering8) back to the house, I stopped midstride when I realized she was on the phone. Though she had not mentioned her sister once since our visit to the flower farm, I knew in an instant she had called Catherine. I sat down in the dirt beneath the kitchen window, shocked.
"Another crop," she cried. "Safe. I'm not a drinker, but I have more sympathy for Dad these days. The appeal of waking up to a shot of whiskey―'to numb the fear of frost', as he used to say―I can understand it." Her pause was brief, and I realized that, again, she was speaking only to Catherine's answering machine. "Anyway, I know you saw me that day in October. Did you see Victoria? Isn't she beautiful? You obviously didn't want to see me, and I wanted to respect that, to give you more time. So I haven't called. But I can't wait any longer. I've decided to start calling again, every day. More than once a day, probably, until you agree to talk to me. I need you, Catherine. Don't you understand? You're all the family I have." I shut my eyes at Elizabeth's words. You're all the family I have. For eight months we had been together, eating three meals a day at the kitchen table, working side by side. My adoption was less than four months away. Still, Elizabeth did not consider me family. Instead of sorrow, I felt rage, and when I heard the phone click, followed by the gushing9) sound of dirty water being poured down a drain, I pounded up the front steps. I struck the door with clenched fists, trying to knock it in. What am I, then? I wanted to scream. Why are we pretending?
But when Elizabeth opened the door and I looked into her surprised face, I started to cry. I could not remember ever having cried, and the tears felt like a betrayal of my anger. I slapped at my face where tears ran down in streams. The sting of each slap made me cry harder.
Elizabeth didn't ask why I was crying, just pulled me into the kitchen. She sat on a wooden chair and drew me awkwardly10) into her lap. In a few months I would be ten. I was too old to sit on her lap, too old to be held and comforted. I was also too old to be given back. Suddenly I was both terrified of being placed in a group home and surprised that Meredith's scare tactic11) had worked. Burying my face in Elizabeth's neck, I sobbed and sobbed. She squeezed me. I waited for her to tell me to calm down, but she didn't.
Minutes passed. A timer12) on the kitchen stove buzzed, but Elizabeth did not stand up. When I finally lifted my head, the kitchen was filled with the scent of chocolate. Elizabeth had made a soufflé13) to celebrate the turn in the weather, and the scent was rich and sweet. I wiped my eyes on the shoulder of her blouse14) and sat up, pushing myself back to look at her. When our eyes met, I saw that she had been crying, too. Tears clung and then dropped from the edge of her jawbone15).
"I love you," Elizabeth said, and I started to cry all over again.
In the oven, the chocolate soufflé began to burn.
每天上床前我们都会在我房间里的日历上划掉一天。整个1月我只在日期下面的方框里潦草地画个红色的小叉,但截至3月底,我记录了高温和低温(就像伊丽莎白在她自己的日历上记下这些一样),还会记录我们晚饭吃了些什么,还有那天做过的事。伊丽莎白把一摞便利贴裁成日历上的方格那么大,好多个夜晚我都会写满五六页便利贴再爬上床。
记日历远不只是每晚的惯例,更是倒计时。8月2日――我的假定生日之后的那一天――被标出来了,下面的方框整个被涂成了粉色。伊丽莎白用黑色毡头笔写上了“上午11点,三楼,305室”。法律规定在最终确定我被收养之前我必须和伊丽莎白一起生活一整年,所以梅若蒂之前就把我们上法院的时间定在我到这里的一年后。
我看了看伊丽莎白送我的手表,还有十分钟她才会让我进去。我把头靠在葡萄树光秃秃的藤条上,第一批鲜绿的叶子已经从紧密的叶芽里长出来,我仔细观察着它们:完美无缺,手指甲大小,是日后模样的缩小版。我嗅嗅叶子,轻轻咬下叶子的一角,想着在尝到葡萄前,我要在日记里记下葡萄藤的味道。我又看了看表,还有五分钟。
一片静谧中,我听到了伊丽莎白的声音。那声音清楚又自信,有那么一瞬间我以为她是在叫我。我飞奔回房内,跑到一半时才发现她是在打电话,就停了下来。虽然自从上次去过花卉农场之后她就再也没提过她姐姐凯瑟琳,我还是立刻就知道了她是在给姐姐打电话。我坐在厨房窗户下的泥地里,震惊不已。 “又一次大丰收,”她大声说,“稳拿。我不是一个酒徒,不过这些天我更同情爸爸了。睡醒后来杯威士忌的吸引力――‘麻痹掉对霜冻的恐惧’,就像他以前常常说的――我现在理解了。”她短暂地停顿了一下,我明白过来她又是在和凯瑟琳的答录机说话而已。“不管怎样,我知道10月那天你看到我了。你看到维多利亚了吗?她是不是很漂亮?你显然不愿意见我,我想尊重你的意愿,给你更多时间,所以我一直没给你打电话。但是我没法再等了。我决定重新开始给你打电话,每天都打。也许一天会打好几次,直到你愿意跟我说话。我需要你,凯瑟琳。你不明白吗?你是我仅有的家人。”
听到伊丽莎白的这句话我闭上了眼睛。你是我仅有的家人。我们在一起八个月了,每日三餐都在厨房餐桌上一起吃,一起并肩做事。离我被收养还有不到四个月,伊丽莎白还是没有把我当成家人。我并不伤心,只觉得愤怒,我听到电话咔哒一声,紧接着是脏水被倒进下水道的哗哗声,我重重地踏上前门的台阶,紧握拳头敲门,想敲破门冲进去。那我算什么?我想尖叫。我们为什么要装成一家人?
但是当伊丽莎白打开门,我看到她一脸的惊讶时,我哭了起来。我不记得自己以前哭过,那眼泪就像是对我的愤怒的背叛。泪水泉涌而下,我狂扇自己耳光,每记耳光带来的疼痛让我哭得更厉害。
伊丽莎白没有问我为什么哭,只是把我拽进了厨房。她在一张木椅上坐下,笨拙地把我拉到她的大腿上。再过几个月我就十岁了,已经大到不适合坐在她腿上,不适合被抱着安慰了,也大到不能再被送回孤儿院了。突然间我既害怕被送回孤儿院,也惊讶于梅若蒂吓唬我的办法(编注:指让她留在孤儿院直到长大成人)奏效了。我把脸埋在伊丽莎白的脖子里,不停地抽泣着。她紧紧地抱着我。我等她叫我平静下来,但她一直没有。
几分钟过去了。厨房电炉上的定时器响了起来,但是伊丽莎白没有站起来。等到我终于抬起头来,厨房里到处都弥漫着巧克力的香味。伊丽莎白做了舒芙蕾来庆祝天气的变化,它的气味香甜浓郁。我在她衣肩上擦了擦眼睛,身体往后退了退,坐直身子去看她。当我们眼神交汇时,我发现她也一直在哭。眼泪在她下颌边缘流连,然后滴落。
“我爱你。”伊丽莎白说,我又哭了起来。
烤箱里,巧克力舒芙蕾开始散发出烤煳的味道。
赏析
小说《花语女孩》的主人公名叫维多利亚・琼斯,是一个自幼被父母遗弃、在孤儿院长大的女孩。书中讲述了她从不敢爱、拒绝爱到接触爱、品尝爱,中途又懦弱、自卑地放弃爱,直到最后才终于敢去尝试接受爱的故事。代表各种情感的花语贯穿小说始终,让整个故事都弥漫着一种淡淡的芳香。小说采用第一人称,以两条时间线并行的方式,带领读者穿梭于维多利亚的两个不同人生阶段之间。一条时间线是从维多利亚的18岁生日开始,讲述维多利亚成年之后的经历和遭遇;另一条时间线则是从维多利亚的幼年开始,讲述她在社工梅若蒂不断为她寻找收养家庭过程中的各种经历。这两条时间线交替进行,让我们在镜头的不断切换中慢慢走进孤女维多利亚的故事。
在孤儿院里,年幼的维多利亚被一个又一个家庭收养又送回来。在大家眼里,维多利亚是一个冷漠疏离、脾气暴躁、沉默寡言、不知悔改的顽劣孩子。却不知,维多利亚曾在那些收养家庭里遭受过太多不好的待遇,由此对所有人都竖起了一道冷漠的屏障。她小小年纪,却已然对周遭的世界彻底失望。她认为没有人会真正爱她,甚至断言自己永远得不到爱,自然,她不会也不敢对任何人付出爱。在这个世界上,唯一能让维多利亚感到亲切的就只有花花草草。在换了32个收养家庭之后,九岁的维多利亚被送到了一个名叫伊丽莎白的中年女子家。伊丽莎白孤身多年,独自经营着一个葡萄园。她是第一个真心对待维多利亚的人,尊重她的想法,呵护她异常敏感的心,包容她的一切顽劣。维多利亚内心的寒冰在伊丽莎白真诚的关爱中不觉悄然开始融化,她的眼中也渐渐漾起了一抹暖色。她知道,伊丽莎白是这个世界上唯一一个真正想要收养她、成为她母亲的人。跟伊丽莎白在一起的日子里,维多利亚不仅敞开了冰封多年的心扉,还学到了将影响她一生的美妙花语――每种花儿所能传达的隐秘情感。
就这样,维多利亚一直期待着她正式被收养那一天的到来――按照法规,她必须和伊丽莎白生活满一年后才能在法庭上正式被收养。可是充实而快乐的平静生活之下却暗涛涌动。维多利亚自幼缺乏爱的滋养,极其缺乏安全感,内心敏感而脆弱,对伊丽莎白的一言一行都十分在意;伊丽莎白则一直与姐姐凯瑟琳有一个解不开的心结,为此不仅错过一次正式收养维多利亚必须参加的法庭例会,到后来为了让维多利亚得到更多甚至还想过放弃收养。节选部分正体现了这份爱的脆弱,伊丽莎白给姐姐电话留言中的一句“你是我仅有的家人”,瞬间就让维多利亚脆弱的内心遭受重创。
一直以来,维多利亚的内心都对未来充满种种不确定,对爱和幸福也充满不确定。她敏感,因为她太在乎;她脆弱,因为她太想珍惜。但她并不知道,自己之所以这样敏感和脆弱,正是因为爱已经在内心深处扎根,悄然生长。
令人惋惜的是,维多利亚很快由爱生恨。伊丽莎白一直解不开与姐姐凯瑟琳的心结,最终导致她对维多利亚的收养一直没有正式生效,维多利亚在愤怒和仇恨中做了一件让她悔恨多年的事情――火烧葡萄园,嫁祸凯瑟琳。维多利亚本意只是想烧掉几棵树达到目的就好,却没料到火势快速蔓延,顷刻间就烧毁了伊丽莎白多年苦心经营的葡萄园,也烧毁了自己仅剩的一线希望。满怀愧疚和罪恶感的维多利亚无法面对自己让伊丽莎白所承受的痛苦,无法宽恕自己。她不愿看到这世上唯一爱着她的人因为自己而受苦,选择了离开伊丽莎白,离开这个曾给予她温暖和爱的“家”,又回到了孤儿院。此后,维多利亚又像从前一样辗转于一个又一个收养家庭,却始终没人肯收养她,而在她的内心深处,只有伊丽莎白在的地方才是她可以停靠的港湾。
转眼间维多利亚18岁了,她终于自由了,可以摆脱孤儿院了。“我长大了,对未来的期望其实很简单:独自生活,被花朵围绕。”是伊丽莎白带她走进了花语世界,在她内心深处留下最纯最暖的爱。安静美好的花儿已成为维多利亚生命中不可或缺的伙伴。维多利亚对花语的通晓不仅为她赢得了花店助手的工作,让她有了独立生活的经济来源,也让她后来收获了与凯瑟琳的儿子葛伦之间的爱情,迎来了女儿的诞生。然而,失去伊丽莎白的痛苦、对爱的再三逃避一直折磨着她,对往事的愧疚和自责一次又一次吞噬了维多利亚爱的勇气。在痛苦的徘徊中,维多利亚最终选择离开爱人,甚至在生下女儿后又抛下了女儿。“自己孤苦飘零,像苔藓一样无根无蒂,又如何能够给予女儿足够多的爱呢?”独自一人度过了一段艰难的生活后,维多利亚凭借自己对花语细腻独到的领悟,慢慢赢得了客户的信赖,把“用花语传递爱”渐渐发展成了自己的事业,并且变得小有名气。生活的独立和事业上的成功渐渐为维多利亚找回了一些自信和勇气。 但没有爱,内心的空白却始终无法填补。维多利亚对伊丽莎白、对女儿和爱人的思念愈来愈强烈,她最终鼓起勇气写信给伊丽莎白告诉了她当年那场悲剧的真相。岁月已淡去,但留在每个人内心的还是最美好的爱。伊丽莎白不仅很快回了信,而且信里没有一丝愤怒的指责,唯有爱的呼唤、对亲人的思念,还有对维多利亚的愧疚――没能兑现曾经承诺的不离不弃。在这份爱的鼓励下,维多利亚终于回家了。伊丽莎白的宽容、理解和爱人深沉的爱给了维多利亚更加坚定的信心。她终于明白,苔藓无根也能生长,自己虽然漂泊无依,但仍然有能力付出无私的爱。她终于鼓起勇气,要重建一个完整的家,用付出来诠释爱。经历过这么多痛苦的磨难,最亲最爱的人最终可以放开内心的挣扎、绝望和逃避,坦然接受彼此,用爱来填补生活的缺憾。而花语也已然成为一种坚守,一种信仰般神圣的存在。
花语即爱语,无声中表达着对自然生命的热爱,对爱的赞美,对世上美好事物的欣赏和赞叹。不管经历过多少苦痛和沧桑,不管是否曾犯下不可原谅的错,每一个美好善良的生命都值得被爱,每一个独立于世的生命都有热忱、有能力付出爱。只要勇敢去尝试,用心去呵护,爱就会像花儿一样绽放在心底,永不凋谢。
1. scratch [skr?t?] vt. 潦草地写
2. felt-tip: 毡头笔,一种笔尖由粗到细,可产生半透明的、有角度变化的线的笔。
3. mandate [?m?nde?t] vt. 命令……强制执行
4. Meredith: 梅若蒂,负责帮维多利亚寻找收养家庭的社工
5. sprout [spra?t] vi. (叶子、芽、植株)长出
6. bud [b?d] n. 叶芽
7. nibble [?n?bl] vt. 轻咬
8. scamper [?sk?mp?(r)] vi. 飞奔
9. gushing [?????] adj. 涌的
10. awkwardly [???kw?dli] adv. 笨拙地
11. tactic [?t?kt?k] n. 策略
12. timer [?ta?m?(r)] n. 定时器
13. soufflé [?su?fle?] n. 舒芙蕾,一种法式甜点
14. blouse [bla?z] n. 短上衣;女式衬衫
15. jawbone [?d???b??n] n. 下颌骨