2024年3月14日发(作者：)

姓 名

学 号

李柯颖

成 绩

评卷人

中 南 财 经 政 法 大 学

研 究 生 课 程 考 试 试 卷

（课程论文）

论文题目On the Aesthetic Effects of the

Translation of Haunting Olivia

课程名称 翻译理论与实践

完成时间 2015.2

专业年级 2014级翻译硕士

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中文摘要

文学翻译是语言再现的艺术, 是审美的翻译。小说作为文学文本，是一种特

殊的艺术形式，翻译小说的最终目的就是实现小说的审美再现。本文以美国作家

凯伦·罗舒的短篇小说《游魂奥莉维亚》为研究对象，分析了小说中的人物语言

个性、人物塑造和修辞，介绍了小说的翻译过程。并且本小说的中文翻译文本，

以以上对小说的具体三方面的分析为基础，着重分析了本人翻译过程。本文结尾

还列出了本人在翻译过程中遇到的困难。

关键字：审美； 翻译； 人物语言个性； 人物塑造； 修辞

Abstract

Literary translation is an art of language representation with aesthetic effect. As

one kind of literary text, fiction is a special art form, and the aim of fiction translation

is to represent the aesthetic effects. This paper analyzes character personalities

reflected by their speech, characterization and rhetoric, introduces the process of

translating this fiction. And this paper will emphasize on analyzing my translation

process and some strategies and skills. Also, this paper lists some problems I have met

during translation.

Key words: aesthetic; translation; character personalities reflected by their speech;

characterization; rhetoric

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Contents

ABSTRACT ........................................................................................................................... 2

Ⅰ. Introduction of the author ............................................................................................... 4

Ⅱ. Analysis of the 5

2.1 What is the story about ......................................................................................... 5

2.2 Aesthetic analysis of the source text .................................................................... 5

2.2.1 Distinct character personalities reflected by their speech .......................... 5

2.2.2 Vivid characterisation ................................................................................ 6

2.2.3 Rhetorical beauty ....................................................................................... 7

Ⅲ. The analysis of source text’s translation ......................................................................... 7

3.1 The translation of distinct character personalities reflected by their speech ....... 7

3.1.1 The translation of linguistic meaning ........................................................ 8

3.1.2

The translation of pragmatic meaning

............................................................... 9

3.2 The representation of vivid characterisation .......................................................... 10

3.2.1 The translation of 10

3.2.2

The translation of action description

................................................................ 10

3.2.3

The translation of psychological description

.................................................. 11

3.3 The translation of rhetorical beauty ....................................................................... 12

3.3.1 The translation of metaphor ..................................................................... 12

3.3.2

The translation of symbol

................................................................................... 12

Ⅳ. Problems in the process of translation .......................................................................... 13

Ⅴ. What I’ve learnt from the project .................................................................................. 15

Bibliography ........................................................................................................................ 16

Appendix .............................................................................................................................. 17

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Ⅰ. Introduction of the author

Karen Russell (born July 10, 1981) is an American novelist and short story writer

whose haunting yet comic tales blend fantastical elements with psychological realism

and classic themes of transformation and redemption. Setting much of her work in the

Everglades of her native Florida, she depicts in lyrical, energetic prose an enchanting

and forbidding landscape and delves into subcultures rarely encountered in

contemporary American literature.

The vividly realized stories in her debut collection, St. Lucy’s Home for Girls

Raised by Wolves (2006), revolve around a cast of adolescents, often parentless,

caught between the worlds of childhood and adulthood, wilderness and civilization,

island and mainland, the living and the dead. In her novel Swamplandia! (2011),

Russell revisits and expands on the opening story of her earlier collection, “Ava

Wrestles the Alligator,” to explore the intricacies and consequences of a family’s grief

following the death of their matriarch. Narrated primarily by its thirteen-year-old

protagonist, Ava, the novel weaves together a chilling odyssey into a swampland

netherworld; lush descriptions of the flora, fauna, and history of the Everglades region;

and profound observations about human nature in the face of irreparable loss.

Russell’s recently published collection of stories, Vampires in the Lemon Grove

(2013), navigates new and diverse terrain, from a nineteenth-century silk factory in

Japan, to a drought-ravaged homesteader settlement on the plains of Nebraska, to the

traumatic memories of an Iraq War veteran. Through the wildly inventive premises of

these and other stories, Russell is widening the scope of her already far-reaching and

distinctive imagination.

Karen Russell received a B.A. (2003) from Northwestern University and an

M.F.A. (2006) from Columbia University. Her short stories have appeared in such

publications as The New Yorker, Granta, Zoetrope, and Oxford American. She was a

fellow at the Cullman Center (2010) and at the American Academy of Berlin (2012),

and she has taught writing and literature at Columbia University (2006–2009),

Williams College (2009), Bard College (2011), Bryn Mawr College (2012), and the

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University of Rutgers, Camden (2013).

Ⅱ.Analysis of the short story

2.1 What is the story about

The short story Haunting Olivia is about two boys，Wallow and Timothy took a

crab sled to look for their little dead sister and describes the wonderful scene they saw

and their deep missing for their sister during search. In the novel, crab sledding is

the

closest thing island kids have to a winter sport. Wallow, Timothy and Olivia often

played this game. One day, they’d spent all day crab sledding down the beach, and

Wallow and Timothy wanted to go to Granana’s house. But Olivia wanted to play for

a while. While neither of them is willing to accompany Olivia who was only 8 years

old. After giving her a final push that sent her racing down the slopes, they left. Sine

then, Olivia disappeared for ever. Wallow and Timothy planned to look for their little

sister by rowing crab sled, and they thought Olivia must be in a cave of Glowworm

Grotto drawn by herself. They began working their way around the island to find that

cave. This fiction describes what Timothy saw under the water wearing goggles, the

night sky above the sea and the scene in the cave during the process of their searching

for Olivia, and reflects their deep missing for Olivia.

2.2 Aesthetic analysis of the source text

2.2.1 Distinct character personalities reflected by their speech

Fiction contains the aesthetic factors which hide in semantic information and

exists in characters’ conversation(Hu Anjiang, 2005). In the fiction, character

personality is an important factor inducing or restricting the variations of language

style. Words are the voice of the mind; words are the reflections of one person. So the

characters’ conversation is undoubtedly the best explanation of self image. The

meaning of “words are the voice of the mind” is that the conversations can show

characters’ ideological trend, convey the mood of characters and reflect the character's

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psychology. That words are the reflections of one person means conversation can

reveal one’s characters' personality and nature. In Haunting Olivia, all the

conversations between characters convey a certain sense and highlight characters’

distinctive individuality. Conversations between Wallow and Timothy, including

conversations taking place when they try the goggles, their first booty, founding in the

process of two people looking for Olivia. It vividly portrays two little lovely and

innocent kids whose relationship is close; Conversations between Olivia and her

brothers reflect Olivia is a naughty，smart and cute; Conversations between the two

boys and Granana reflect Granana is a very simple old woman having experienced

hardships……

2.2.2 Vivid characterization

One important feature of fiction is to shape a large number of the vivid

characters. These images not only inspired but also move the reader, and bring reader

into poetic realm, and let them own extremely rich aesthetic experience at the same

time(Hu Xianyao & Lili, 2009). Here, I will analyze the vivid characters in this fiction

from three aspects: portrait description, action description and psychological

description(Liu Xinlei, 2011).

Portrait description depicts the characters by describing the character's

appearance, clothing and

gesture, and it is a way of revealing characters’ thoughts and

personalities of a way. This novel has many portrait descriptions in paragraph ten,

these descriptions use extensive adjectives and similes which compare Olivia's face to

red apple and compare the Wallow teeth to the tusks of warthog. Thus it vividly

highlights the Olivia's cuteness and Wallow’s funny

appearance. But the sentences in

source text are hard to understand, so when translating into Chinese, translators

should convert them into ones conforming to Chinese patterns. In addition to the

portrait description, action description can also vividly shape the characters.

There are a large number of action descriptions in the novel. Paragraph 25

vividly depicts the picture of Timothy jump from pier down to water. In addition,

paragraph 30 also lively the pleasant scene of rowing crab sled on the beach. These

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action descriptions are consisted of a series of verbs, so we should pay attention to

choose the corresponding words during translation.

Novelists prefer using psychological description to shape the characters. By

describing characters’ inner world, the author can directly narrates the ups and downs

characters’ emotion and shows the characters’ mind and personality traits.

Psychological description is well organized, and readers can logically see characters’

rational spirit world. The psychological descriptions of Timothy after seeing the

ghosts of dead children show that timothy was very scared. And the psychological

description: "I'd rather drown in Olivia's ghost than have question look at me that

way" shows us the struggle in Timothy’s spirit world.

2.2.3 Rhetorical beauty

Novelist can’t improve language skills and create charm language art without

rhetoric. The rhetoric is a kind of language art, which can let reader have an aesthetic

experience when reading a novel. Haunting Olivia uses a large number of rhetorical

devices, such as:

1. Aesthetic effects created by metaphors

Compared with simile, the relationship between ontology and vehicle are not

directly express. Metaphor gives readers more vast space for imagination. This novel

use metaphor for many times and make the source text vivid (Chen Dingan, 2004).

The description of Olivia eyes and the scene emerging in Timothy’s mind after

hearing grandfather used to take Granana skinny-dipping swim. All these show the

aesthetic effects of metaphor.

2. Aesthetic effects created by symbol

In the novel, symbol is a micro rhetoric as important as metaphor. In this novel,

there are many descriptions of light in the cave including the light coming from the

the caves, the light of glowworms and the light shadow on the stone at the bottom of

cave. The description of the light symbolizes the Timothy’s mood changes.

Ⅲ.The analysis of source text’s translation

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3.1 The translation of distinct character personalities reflected

by their speech

Just as the analysis of character personalities reflected by their speech above, the

aim of conversations is to depict characters and convey a certain meaning, so the

translation is to translate meaning. But meaning has multiple levels, semiotics

provides the most comprehensive meaning theory: As a kind of symbol system,

language has three meanings: referential meaning, linguistic meaning and pragmatic

meaning. Here I mainly analyze linguistic meaning and pragmatic meaning applied in

my translation. Linguistic meaning refers to the relationship between the language

symbols of the same language system. Pragmatic meaning refers to the relationship

between symbols and the user, namely the relationship between language and its

users( Xu Jun, 2014).

3.1.1 The translation of linguistic meaning

Linguistic meaning is owned by a certain kind of language, so it’s hard to keep it

in the process of translation, but it does not mean it can not be conveyed. Linguistic

meaning includes the sound system meaning, grammatical meaning, lexical meaning,

syntactic meaning, etc. Please look at the following example:

Source text：

“I want my parents to stop sailing around taking pictures of Sudanese leper

colonies. I want Wallow to row back to shore and sleep through the night. I want

everybody in the goddam family to leave Olivia here for dead.”

Target text：

“我想爸妈不要旅行去拍苏丹拍一些麻风病人隔离区的照片；我想瓦洛划

回岸上然后好好睡一觉；我想这个讨厌的家庭中每个人都让奥莉维亚死在这儿。”

In the novel, the author USES three periods to form three sentences. But I

changed full stops into the semicolons when translating these sentences. I thought

these sentences beginning with three "want" can fully embody the Timothy’s angry

and grievance because can’t leave the cave and return home. By using three

semicolons, the characters' personality traits can be incisively and vividly reflected,

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and the linguistic meaning can be accurately conveyed.

Such as:

Source text：

“Its long neck is arced in an S-shaped curve; its lizard body is the size of

Granana’s carport. Each of its ghost flippers pinwheels colored light.”

Target text：

它长长的脖子弯成一条“S”型曲线；它蜥蜴般的身体如奶奶的车库那么大；

它鬼影般的蹼转动着，颜色光彩亮丽。

In the target text, I translate the last sentence of the above source text into: “它鬼

影般的蹼转动着，颜色光彩亮丽”to conform to the former two sentences. The target

text changes the second full stop into a semicolon to describe plesiosaur rhythmically,

which can fully embody its shape characteristics and accurately convey linguistic

meaning.

3.1.2 The translation of pragmatic meaning

The significance of conversation is from which we can infer characters’ attitude

and character. These inferences often hide in the pragmatic meaning of conversation.

Both of these two kinds of languages can reflect the speaker's character, identity and

make the characters vivid. For example:

Source text：

“‘I can’t swim with this cast, and these bitches are too small for my skull. You

try them.’”

“‘Nothing,’ he bubbles morosely through the snorkel. ‘I can’t see a thing.’”

“‘What do you see, bro?’ ‘Oh, not much.’ I cough.”

Target text：

“带上它没法游，我的脑袋太大，戴不上这个

鸟儿

东西，你戴吧。”

“没有，”他透过通气管郁闷地说，“

嘛玩意儿也没看到。

”

“你在看什么，老弟？” “

啥

也没看”。我咳了一下。

In the source text, I translated the words "bitches", "I can 't see a thing," and "not

much" into "鸟儿", "嘛玩意儿也没看到" and "啥", because these expressions exist

9

in my dialect, so I just translated like that

reflexively. But I think this translation will

accord with local environment and accurately reflect local children's unadorned

quality.

3.2 The representation of vivid characterisation

3.2.1 The translation of

portrait description

Just as the analysis above this paper, portrait description is a method to reveal

characters’ thoughts and characteristics while keeping both "form" and "content". The

descriptions of characters in novel mainly express the mental state of characters and

specifically describe a smile and a small translating, you must pay

special attention to crucial details. Here is an example:

Source text：

Not Wallow. He’s got this dental affliction which gives him a tusky, warthog grin.

He wears his hair in a greased pompadour and has a thick pelt of back hair.

Target text：

瓦洛一样也没有，疣猪獠牙般的牙齿，还顶着一个大背头，后脑勺头发浓

密，像摸了油一样。

Just as the analysis above this paper, the sentences of portrait description of

Wallow in the source text is very long, but short sentences dominate in Chinese, so I

used omission in the translation process by deleting the subject of the latter sentence

and broke it into three short sentences. By doing so, I thought my translation become

fluent and rhythmical.

3.2.2 The translation of action description

Just as the analysis above this paper, action description often consists of a series

of verbs, so we must find out the equivalent and expressive verbs to vividly reproduce

the characters in target text. Please look at the following example:

Source text：

I take a running leap down the pier—

“Ayyyyiii!”

—and launch over the water. It’s my favorite moment: I’m one toe away from

flight and my body takes over. The choice is made, but the consequence is still just an

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inky shimmer beneath me. I’m rushing to meet my own reflection—gah!

Target text：

我

跳跃

着下了码头—

“嗨----一----！”

—一

跃

而起，

扑

到了水面上。这是我最爱的时刻：只差一个脚趾头的距离我

就

飞

起来了，整个身体都

飞

起来了。一旦作出决定，就要承受后果——地下是漆

黑的、闪着微光的水面，我

飞奔

着去

迎接

我的倒影——“嘭”地一声，落在水里。。

The above translation is Miss Zeng's version. Because my version is too bad, I

analyzed teacher's version. There are a series of lively verbs such as "take a leap",

"launch", "take over", "rush to" and "meet", and the corresponding words in target

text like “跳跃”、“扑”、“飞”、“飞奔”and“迎接” vividly depict Timothy's

characterizes: lively and lovely. Miss Zeng’s translation has accurately retained the

original style of source target.

3.2.3 The translation of psychological description

Just as the analysis above this paper, psychological description is well organized,

and readers can logically see characters’ rational spirit world. Therefore, in the

process of translation, we should pay attention to narrator’s identity and character and

interpret the characters’ psychological condition in an appropriate tone (3). Here is an

example:

Source text：

I want my parents to stop sailing around taking pictures of Sudanese leper

colonies. I want Wallow to row back to shore and sleep through the night. I want

everybody in the goddam family to leave Olivia here for dead.

Target text：

“我想爸妈不要旅行去拍苏丹拍一些麻风病人隔离区的照片；我想瓦洛划

回岸上然后好好睡一觉；我想这个该死的家庭中每个人都让奥莉维亚死在这儿。”

This is the psychological description of Timothy. He was scared of what he just

saw and was quite tired after swimming for a long time in the water to look for his

sister Olivia. The vulgar slang "goddam" in the source text together with a parallelism

starting with "I want" vividly produced a kid who is young and full of fear. I I

translated "goddam" into "该死的" are consistent with Timothy’s mood at that time.

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3.3 The translation of rhetorical beauty

3.3.1 The translation of metaphor

It’s suit to use literal translation in the process of translation when the meaning of

metaphorical objects are equivalent in two languages. Here are two examples:

Source text：

Dad used to tell Olivia that a merman artisan had made them, out of bits of sea

glass from Atlantis.

Wallow and I do an autonomic, full-body shudder. I get a sudden mental image

of two shelled walnuts floating in a glass.

Target text：

爸爸曾告诉奥莉维亚她的眼睛是人与工匠用亚特兰蒂斯的海玻璃片做成。

瓦洛和我不禁打了个寒战，我突然想到两个带皮的核桃在玻璃杯中漂游的场

景。

3.3.2 The translation of symbol

Just as the analysis above this paper, the light coming from the cave symbolize

the change of Timothy’s mood. Here are some examples：

Source text：

Sure enough, there is a muted glow coming from the far end of a salt-eaten

overhang, like light from under a door.

一．The stars here are all equally bright and evenly spaced, like a better-ordered

cosmos.

二．Everything down here is dancing—the worms’ green light and the undulant

walls and the leopard-spotted polyps. Everything.

三．Every fish burns lantern-bright, and I can’t tell the living from the dead. It’s

all just blurry light, light smeared like some celestial fingerprint all over the rocks and

the reef and the sunken garbage.

Target text：

12

一：一定有，崖壁的一端被盐水侵蚀了，透出一束柔和的光，像是从门缝底

下射出来的。

二：这里的星星同样明亮，被整齐的分开，就像一个整齐有序的宇宙。

三：水下的一切都在舞动——萤火虫绿色的亮光、起伏的洞壁和豹点状的珊

瑚，一切事物。

四：每只鱼都散发亮光，我分不清他们是死是活。那只是些模糊不清的亮光，

就像是映在岩石上，暗礁上和沉没的垃圾上的神仙手印。

The sentence one describes the “light” that Timothy saw shooting from the cave,

and we can infer from the context that Timothy was a little scared at that time.

Sentence two, three and four depict different kinds of light in the cave，which echoes

the Glowworm Grotto drawn by Olivia. The light shining from glowworms and tiny

fish evoked Timothy’s the deep missing for Olivia. The reduplicative appearance of

the image——light has formed a specific symbol that symbolized the change of

protagonist’s mood.

Ⅳ.Problems in the process of translation

The most difficult problem in the process of translation is how to exactly

understand the meaning of sentences. The following are some examples. “Instead, he

slaps at the ocean with jilted fury.” I knew the meaning of “fury”, but I struggled to

understand the words “jilted fury”. I began to imagine that picture in my mind and

gradually got it. Someone will feel be abandoned when he or she couldn’t gain others’

trust. So, I translated this sentence into: “相反，他气冲冲地拍打着海水，感觉自己

被抛弃了。” “Battered sailboats and listing skiffs, yachts with stupid names—Knot at

Work and Sail-la-Vie—the paint peeling from their puns.” We can get that the names

of sailboats and skiffs, yachts are stupid. So we should found some corresponding

Chinese words to represent their foolishness. But it was so difficult to understand the

meaning of “Knot at Work”. Besides, “Sail-la-vie” is a French vocabulary and its

meaning is not stupid. Maybe Timothy is too young to understand life, so he thinks it

is stupid. I translate this sentence into: “破烂不堪的帆船、重心失衡的小艇，名字傻

13

到不行的游艇，什么“工作打结”、“人生之帆”之类的，船名的油漆都脱落了。”

But I don’t think my translation of this sentence is suitable. There are still many

sentences in the source text I couldn’t understand exactly. Hope Miss Zeng can give

me some advice.

The second problem is how to vividly and smoothly some long sentences. Such

as: “Its long neck is arced in an S-shaped curve; its lizard body is the size of

Granana’s carport. Each of its ghost flippers pinwheels colored light.” In the

beginning, I translated this sentence into “它长长的脖子弯成一条“S”型曲线；它

的身体像蜥蜴一样，有奶奶的车库那么大。脚蹼像鬼影转动着，颜色光彩亮

丽。”But when I check it again, I find that my translation are not vivid and smooth

enough. But how to modify it? I thought about for a long time and read some proses,

then I changed it into“它长长的脖子弯成一条“S”型曲线；它蜥蜴般的身体如奶

奶的车库那么大；它鬼影般的蹼转动着，颜色光彩亮丽。” This version are quite

normal in some articles, but I couldn’t think of it in a short time by myself, which

shows the significance of the good knowledge of our mother tongue. The second

version is a parallelism. Then it become lively and smoothly.

The third problem is how to choose proper words when translate. In this short

novel, there are many action description which connected by a series of verbs. So It’s

a challenge for me to choose proper Chinese words to represent its vivid picture. Such

as:

“ I take a running leap down the pier—

‘Ayyyyiii!’

—and launch over the water. It’s my favorite moment: I’m one toe away from

flight and my body takes over. The choice is made, but the consequence is still just an

inky shimmer beneath me. I’m rushing to meet my own reflection—gah!” The verbs

in the source text such as“take a leap”, “launch”, “takes over” and “rush to”

graphically describes a picture of Timothy jumping into water. In order to this vividly

keep this scene, we need to find corresponding Chinese words to represent it. My

translation couldn’t gain that effects, so I took out Miss Zeng’s version. It’s a long

journey! Fighting!!!

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Ⅴ.What I’ve learnt from the project

In the process of translating the fiction, I learnt a lot from it. First of all, we

should make full preparation before translation. If you want to have a quite good

translation report, a good understanding of the author’s writing style and a careful

analysis of and source text are indispensable. Karen Russell, the author of this fiction,

is a novelist and short story writer whose haunting yet comic tales blend fantastical

elements with psychological realism and classic themes of transformation and

redemption. It will much easier for us to translate this text guided by her introduction,

We should analyze the source text on the basis of its stylistic features. Haunting

Olivia is a novel whose language is vivid and expressive,

character’s speech is distinct

and rhetorical devices are widely used. Then, we write a translation report according

to this analysis.

Secondly, I learned that it is important to have a good knowledge of translation

theories and skills. Different skills should be used in the translation. We should

translate a sentence guided by a certain theory. Integrating all kinds of theories and

skills is necessary. But it is not easy to integrate all those theories and skills expertly.

So it is important to do translation practice frequently, for practice makes perfect.

Only when we know how to apply the theory into practice, can we really understand

the theories and the skills and translate better in the future.

Thirdly, it is necessary to have a good cultural background and knowledge of

English. Take an example from the fiction: many local children like crab sledding. But

what is crab sled and how to play, we don’t know. So, we should search on Internet to

get some information. Good cultural background can make us understand the meaning

of the source text better. Also, with good knowledge of English, the idiomatic

expressions will not be difficult any more.

Fourthly, we should master all the definitions of a word. In a source text, the

meaning of the word may be quite different from its usual usage. That’s why I find it

necessary to learn a word globally, especially when it has idiomatic usage. Besides, I

should consult dictionaries more and not be lazy.

The last point is, in order to be a good translator, I should study my mother

tongue—Chinese well. Because in translation, I will use the most accurate and

appropriate Chinese words to express the meaning contained in source text. With

good Chinese competence, I can organize the sentence in a way which can better

correspond to Chinese habit. A good translator should not only be able to understand

15

the source text well but also be able to express in authentic Chinese. Only when we

produce the same effect on the target language readers as is produced by the original

on the source language readers, can translation work achieve communicative function.

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5. 雷艳. 小说对话翻译中会话含义的传达 ——以《飘》为例[J]. 中南大学学报，

2012

6. 胡安江. 从翻译美学的角度论小说翻译中人物语言的审美再现[J]. 西南政法

大学学报，2005，第2期.

16

Appendix 译文

Haunting Olivia

游魂奥莉维亚

My brother Wallow has been kicking around Gannon’s Boat Graveyard for more

than an hour, too embarrassed to admit that he doesn’t see any ghosts. Instead, he

slaps at the ocean with jilted fury. Curse words come piping out of his snorkel. He

keeps pausing to readjust the diabolical goggles.

哥哥瓦洛已经在甘农废弃的船舶中晃荡一个多小时了，死要面子不愿承认自

己一个鬼影也没看到。相反，他气冲冲地拍打着海水，感觉自己被抛弃了。通气

管中传出他骂人的脏话。他不时地停下来调整那副讨厌的潜水镜。

The diabolical goggles were designed for little girls. They are pink, with a floral

snorkel attached to the side. They have scratchproof lenses and an adjustable band.

Wallow says that we are going to use them to find our dead sister, Olivia.

这副讨厌的潜水镜是小女生带的，粉色的，旁边还有一个带花的通气管，镜

片防刮，头带可以调整。瓦洛说我们用这副潜水镜将会找到我们死去的妹妹，奥

利维亚。

My brother and I have been making midnight scavenging trips to Gannon’s all

summer. It’s a watery junk yard, a place where people pay to abandon their old boats.

Gannon, the grizzled, tattooed undertaker, tows wrecked ships into his marina.

Battered sailboats and listing skiffs, yachts with stupid names—Knot at Work and

Sail-la-Vie—the paint peeling from their puns. They sink beneath the water in slow

increments, covered with rot and barnacles. Their masts jut out at weird angles. The

marina is an open, easy grave to rob. We ride our bikes along the rock wall, coasting

quietly past Gannon’s tin shack, and hop off at the derelict pier. Then we creep down

to the ladder, jump onto the nearest boat, and loot.

一整夏天，我和哥哥半夜都到甘农的废船舶中游荡。这里是一个水上垃圾场，

人们会将旧船舶扔在这儿。加农是这儿的负责人，头发花白，刺有纹身，他会把

那些破旧的船只推到自己的码头。破烂不堪的帆船、重心失衡的小艇，名字傻到

不行的游艇，什么“工作打结”、“人生之帆”之类的，船名的油漆都脱落了。随

着数量慢慢地增加，这些船就会沉入水中，腐烂掉，遍布藤壶，只剩船桅横七竖

八地露出水面。这个垃圾场是开放的，很容易遭打劫。我们先骑着自行车走过岩

17

石墙，悄悄地滑到甘农的金属屋，再跳到这个遗弃的码头上，然后爬下梯子，跳

上最近的船，开始打劫行动。

It’s dubious booty. We mostly find stuff with no resale value: soggy flares and

UHF radios, a one-eyed cat yowling on a dinghy. But the goggles are a first. We found

them floating in a live-bait tank, deep in the cabin of La Calavera, a swamped Largo

schooner. We’d pushed our way through a small hole in the prow. Inside, the cabin

was rank and flooded. There was no bait living in that tank, just the goggles and a

foamy liquid the color of root beer. I dared Wallow to put the goggles on and stick his

head in it. I didn't actually expect him to find anything; I just wanted to laugh at

Wallow in the pink goggles, bobbing for diseases. But when he surfaced, tearing at the

goggles, he told me that he’d seen the orange, unholy light of a fish ghost. Several, in

fact—a school of ghoulish mullet.

对于能不能发现战利品，我们没有把握，大多情况下，只能找到一些没有转

售价值的东西：湿透的喇叭裤，超高频的无线通讯设备和在小艇上号叫的独眼猫。

潜水镜是第一个战利品。我们是在一艘名叫“卡拉维拉”沉没的纵帆船找到它的，

当时它漂在一个船舱底的钓饵槽中。我们是从船头的的一个小洞挤进去的，船舱

内臭气熏天，到处都是水。里面没有活的钓饵，只有这幅潜水镜和颜色像沙士饮

料的泡沫液体。我怂恿瓦洛戴上游泳镜，其实我并不指望他能找到什么，就只是

想看着他戴着粉色的游泳镜，设法用牙咬水中脏兮兮的东西，嘲笑他一下。但是，

当他露出水面，扯掉游泳镜，他告诉我说看到了一鱼鬼，发着橘色、可怕的光。

事实上，那是几只或一群食尸鬼般的鲱鱼。

“They looked just like regular baitfish, bro,” Wallow said. “Only deader.” I told

my brother that I was familiar with the definition of a ghost. Not that I believed a

word of it, you understand.

Now Wallow is trying the goggles out in the marina, to see if his vision extends

beyond the tank. I’m dangling my legs over the edge of the pier, half-expecting

something to grab me and pull me under. “Wallow! You see anything phantasmic

yet?”

“Nothing,” he bubbles morosely through the snorkel. “I can’t see a thing.”

I’m not surprised. The water in the boat basin is a cloudy mess. But I’m

impressed by Wallow’s one-armed doggy paddle.

“老弟，他们看起来就是普通的钓饵鱼，”瓦洛说。“只是死了。”我告诉哥

哥我知道什么是鬼。并不是在字面上了解，你们懂得。

18

现在瓦洛戴着游泳镜站在码头上，正在试验自己舱外的视力。在码头边上，

我摇晃着双腿，半期待着什么东西能抓住我把我拖下水去。“瓦洛！你看到幽灵

了吗？”

“没有，”他透过通气管郁闷地说，“嘛玩意儿也没看到。”

我并不意外，船池中的水特别浑浊，反而对瓦洛的独臂狗刨式泳姿印象深刻。

瓦洛本不应该游泳的。上星期四，他踩到奶奶扔在屋外的香蕉皮上滑倒了。

Wallow shouldn’t be swimming at all. Last Thursday, he slipped on one of the

banana peels that Granana leaves around the house. I know. I didn’t think it could

happen outside of cartoons, either. Now his right arm is in a plaster cast, and in order

to enter the water he has to hold it above his head. It looks like he’s riding an aquatic

unicycle. That buoyancy—it’s unexpected. On land, Wallow’s a loutish kid. He

bulldozes whatever gets in his path: baby strollers, widowers, me.

瓦洛本不该游泳的。上周四，他踩到格兰娜娜乱扔在屋外的香蕉皮滑倒了。

这我知道。我认为只有在卡通动画片中才会发生这样的事情：现在他的右胳膊缠

着石膏绷带，为了下水他不得不把胳膊举过头顶。他看上去就像在骑水上独轮车，

轻松自在得出人意料。在陆地上，瓦洛是个野孩子，任何挡他路的东西他都一律

清开，管他是婴儿车，鳏夫，还是我。

For brothers, Wallow and I look nothing alike. I’ve got Dad’s blond hair and blue

eyes, his embraceably lanky physique. Olivia was equally Heartland, apple cheeks

and unnervingly white teeth. Not Wallow. He’s got this dental affliction which gives

him a tusky, warthog grin. He wears his hair in a greased pompadour and has a thick

pelt of back hair. There’s no accounting for it. Dad jokes that our mom must have had

dalliances with a Minotaur.

虽为亲兄弟，我和瓦洛长得并不像。我长得像我爸爸，金色的头发，蓝色的

眼睛，瘦高身材。Olivia也继承了好基因，脸颊红润似苹果，牙齿白得让人嫉妒。

瓦洛一样也没有，疣猪獠牙般的牙齿，还顶着一个大背头，后脑勺头发浓密，像

摸了油一样。他怎么长这样，无法解释。爸爸打趣道，妈妈一定是和牛头怪调情

才生下了瓦洛。

Wallow is not Wallow’s real name, of course. His real name is Waldo Swallow.

Just like I’m Timothy Sparrow and Olivia was—is—Olivia Lark. Our parents used to

be bird enthusiasts. That’s how they met: Dad spotted my mother on a bird-watching

tour of the swamp, her beauty magnified by his 10x binoculars. Dad says that by the

19

time he lowered them the spoonbills he’d been trying to see had scattered, and he was

in love. When Wallow and I were very young, they used to take us on their creepy

bird excursions, kayaking down island canals, spying on blue herons and coots. These

days, they’re not enthusiastic about much, feathered or otherwise. They leave us with

Granana for months at a time.

瓦洛不是真正的名字，他真名叫瓦洛•斯瓦罗。我叫蒂莫西•斯巴洛，欧丽维

娅叫奥莉维亚• 拉克。爸爸妈妈是鸟类爱好者。这使得他们相遇的：在一次沼泽

地鸟类的巡回展览中，爸爸注意到了美丽的妈妈，透过十倍放大效果的望远镜，

爸爸觉得妈妈更加漂亮。爸爸说，等到他放下望远镜时，他一直想看的篦鹭展已

经结束了，他就爱上了妈妈。我和瓦洛小的时候，他们经常带我们加入稀奇古怪

的观鸟远足之旅。沿着岛上的河流泛舟而下，观看蓝色的苍鹭和黑鸭子，我们觉

得很无聊。现在他们不再那么热衷于观察有羽毛的鸟类了，对没有羽毛的也没有

那么热衷了。有一次，他们把我们丢在奶奶家好几个月。

Shortly after Olivia’s death, my parents started travelling regularly in the Third

World. No children allowed. Granana lives on the other side of the island. She’s

eighty-four, I’m twelve, and Wallow’s fourteen, so it’s a little ambiguous as to who’s

babysitting whom. This particular summer, our parents are in São Paulo. They send us

postcards of bullet-pocked favelas and flaming hillocks of trash. “glad you’re not here!

xoxo, the ‘rents.’ ” I guess the idea is that all the misery makes their marital problems

seem petty and inconsequential.

Olivia去世不久后，他们开始经常周游第三世界国家，那些国家不允许带孩

子。奶奶住在岛的另一头，84岁了，我12岁，瓦洛14岁，不知道谁照顾谁呢。

今年夏天爸爸妈妈在圣保罗，他们给我们寄来的明信片上印着遍布指弹孔的贫民

窟和熊熊燃烧的垃圾山，上面写道：“幸好你们不在这儿！抱抱亲亲，孩子们。”

我想就是这些不幸才让他们觉得他们婚姻中的一些问题相较之下实在是太鸡毛

蒜皮，不值一提了。

“Hey!” Wallow is directly below me, clutching the rails of the ladder. “Move

over.”

He climbs up and heaves his big body onto the pier. Defeat puddles all around

him. Behind the diabolical goggles, his eyes narrow into slits.

“Did you see them?”

Wallow just grunts. “Here.” He wrestles the lady-goggles off his face and thrusts

them at me. “I can’t swim with this cast, and these bitches are too small for my skull.

20

You try them.”

I sigh and strip off my pajamas, bobbling before him. The elastic band of the

goggles bites into the back of my head. Somehow, wearing them makes me feel even

more naked. My penis is curling up in the salt air like a small pink snail. Wallow

points and laughs.

“嘿！”瓦洛在我的正下方，紧握着梯子叫到。“起开。”

他拖着硕大的身子，爬上了码头，周围全是水坑。透过那副讨厌的泳镜，他

的眼睛缩成了一条缝。

“你看到他们了吗？”我问道。

瓦洛嘟哝着，“给你。”他使劲地扯下那副女式泳镜并用力推给了我。“带上

它没法游，我的脑袋太大，戴不上这个鸟儿东西，你戴吧。”

我叹了口气，脱下宽大的睡衣摇摇晃晃的走到他跟前。泳镜的松紧带紧紧地

箍着我的后脑勺。带着泳镜更显得我更一丝不挂。我的“小弟弟”在海风中缩成

了一个粉色的小蜗牛。瓦洛指着我大笑。

“Sure you don’t want to try again?” I ask him. From the edge of the pier, the

ocean looks dark and unfamiliar, like the liquid shadow of something truly awful.

“Try again, Wallow. Maybe it’s just taking a while for your eyes to adjust—”

Wallow holds a finger to his lips. He points behind me. Boats are creaking in the

wind, waves slap against the pilings, and then I hear it, too, the distinct thunk of boots

on wood. Someone is walking down the pier. We can see the tip of a lit cigarette,

suspended in the dark. We hear a man’s gargly cough.

“你真不想再试下。”我问他。从码头的边缘望去，大海显得黑暗且怪异，

像是十分可怕的怪物流动的影子。“再试下，瓦洛。或许你一会儿就适应了。”

瓦洛一个手指放在嘴唇上，示意我不要出声，指着我身后。船在风中发出嘎

吱嘎吱的响声，海浪击打着木桩。我也听到了靴子才在木板上的梆梆声，有人在

码头上走。一只烟头的光，在黑暗中悬浮着，一个男人咕噜咕噜如漱口般的咳嗽

声也随即传来。

“Looking for buried treasure, boys?” Gannon laughs. He keeps walking toward

us. “You know, the court still considers it trespassing, be it land or sea.” Then he

recognizes Wallow. He lets out the low, mournful whistle that all the grownups on the

island use to identify us now.

“Oh, son. Don’t tell me you’re out here looking for—”

“My dead sister?” Wallow asks with terrifying cheer. “Good guess!”

21

“You’re not going to find her in my marina, boys.”

“你们在寻宝藏吗？”甘农笑着说。他继续朝我们走来。“你们知道，你们

的行为，不管是在海上还是陆地上，都被法院视为非法入侵。”然后他认出了瓦

洛。他吹出低沉悲伤的口哨，现在，岛上的人都是用这样的口哨声表示认出了我

们。

“天哪，孩子，不要告诉我说你们在这儿寻找……"

“我死去的妹妹吗？”Wallow兴奋的回答。“猜对了！”

“你们在我的码头找不到她，孩子们。”

In the dark, Gannon is a huge stencil of a man, wisps of smoke curling from his

nostrils. There is a long, pulsing silence, during which Wallow stares at him, squaring

his jaw. Then Gannon shrugs. He stubs out his cigarette and shuffles back toward the

shore.

“All right, bro,” Wallow says. “It’s go time.” He takes my elbow and gentles

me down the planks with such tenderness that I am suddenly very afraid. But there’s

no sense making the plunge slow and unbearable. I take a running leap down the

pier—

“Ayyyyiii!”

—and launch over the water. It’s my favorite moment: I’m one toe away from

flight and my body takes over. The choice is made, but the consequence is still just an

inky shimmer beneath me. I’m rushing to meet my own reflection—gah!

黑暗中，越发显得加农有一副高大健壮的男人身板，一缕缕烟从他鼻孔里缭

绕升起，接着是长时间的沉默。瓦洛盯着甘农，下巴下巴颏儿挺得直直的。我们

沉寂不语。加农耸了下肩，摁灭了烟头，拖着脚步向岸边走去。

“好了，老弟，”瓦洛说，“该下水了。”他提起我的胳膊肘，把我轻轻地拉

到在木板，，轻柔得让我感到害怕。但是慢慢下水更让人没法忍受，所以我跳跃

着下了码头—

“嗨----一----！”

—一跃而起，扑到了水面上。这是我最爱的时刻：只差一个脚趾头的距离我

就飞起来了，整个身体都飞起来了。一旦作出决定，就要承受后果——地下是漆

黑的、闪着微光的水面，我飞奔着去迎接我的倒影——“嘭”地一声，落在水里。

Then comes the less beautiful moment when I’m up to my eyeballs in tar water,

and the goggles fill with stinging brine. And, for what seems like a very long time, I

can’t see anything at all, dead or alive.

22

When my vision starts to clear, I see a milky, melting light moving swiftly above

the ocean floor. Drowned moonbeams, I think at first. Only there is no moon tonight.

下面是不那么美好的时刻，在漆黑的、漂着油污的水里，我只得依靠眼球了。

泳镜里充满了刺眼的海水。很长一段时间，我什么都看不到，不管是死的还是活

的。

我视线渐渐清晰，看到一点乳白色光，渐渐晕开，在海底漂游。起初我以为

是月光，但今晚没有月亮。

Olivia disappeared on a new-moon night. It was exactly two years, or

twenty-four new moons, ago. Wallow says that means that tonight is Olivia’s

unbirthday, the anniversary of her death. It’s weird: our grief is cyclical, synched with

the lunar cycles. It accordions out as the moon slivers away. On new-moon nights, it

rises with the tide.

Even before we lost my sis, I used to get uneasy when the moon was gone. That

corner of the sky, as black as an empty safe. Whatever happened to Olivia, I hope she

at least had the orange residue of sunset to see by. I can’t stand to think of her out here

alone after nightfall.

奥莉维亚消失在一个新月的夜晚，已经整整两年了或24个月了。瓦洛今晚

是奥莉维亚的周年忌日。奇怪的是，我们的悲伤也随着月缺月圆而有规律地涨落

起伏。月细如丝，则悲伤渐渐消失；新月升起，则悲伤如潮水涌来。

即使在失去妹妹之前，月亮消失的时候，我也常常感到不安。天空的那个角

落黑漆漆的，空落落的。不管奥莉维亚发生了什么，我希望她至少可以看到橘色

夕阳的余光。我不愿去想黑夜降临后她一个人是多么的孤独。

The last time we saw Olivia was at twilight. We’d spent all day crab sledding

down the beach. It’s the closest thing we island kids have to a winter sport. You climb

into the upended exoskeleton of a giant crab, then you go yeehaw slaloming down the

powdery dunes. The faster you go, the more sand whizzes around you, a fine spray on

either side of your crab sled. By the time you hit the water, you’re covered in it, grit in

your teeth and your eyelids, along the line of your scalp.

我们最后一次见奥莉维亚是在一个黄昏。那天我们一整天都在海滩上滑“蟹

橇”。对于海边的孩子来说，这是冬季最好的运动。爬进肚皮朝上的巨无霸螃蟹

的外壳里面，欢呼雀跃地绕过障碍物滑下沙土堆成的山丘。滑的越快，蹭起的沙

子越多。只听到细沙从蟹橇两边嗖嗖地喷射而出，还没等到冲进水里，全身都是

沙子。牙齿上，眼皮上，头发丝里都是。

23

Herb makes the crab sleds—he guts the crabs and blowtorches off the eyestalks

and paints little racer stripes along the side. Then he rents them down at Pier 2, for

two dollars an hour, twelve dollars for a full day. The three of us had been racing

down the beach all afternoon. We were sunburned, and hungry, and loused up with sea

bugs. Wallow had stepped on a sea urchin and broken his fall on more urchins. I

wanted Jiffy Pop and aloe vera. Wallow wanted prescription painkillers and porno. We

voted to head over to Granana’s beach cottage, because she has Demerol and an

illegal cable box.

赫伯会制作蟹壳—— 他把螃蟹的内脏取出，用喷灯把螃蟹的眼柄卸下，并

在旁边画上比赛条纹。然后他就在2号码头向外出租，2美元一小时，12美元一

天。我们每天下午都在海滩上疯玩蟹橇，我们都晒得不行了，饿的不行了，也被

海虱咬的不行了。那天瓦洛踩上了一个海胆，躲闪不及又踩上了更多的海胆。我

想着爆米花和芦荟胶，瓦洛却惦记着止痛片和A片。经过投票表决我们冲向了

奶奶的海滩小屋，那儿有杜冷丁和非法安装的有线电视。

Olivia threw a fit. “But we still have half an hour on the sled rental!” A gleam

came into her eyes, that transparent little-kid craftiness. “You guys don’t have to come

with me, you know.”

Legally, we did. According to official Herb’s Crab Sledding policy,

under-twelves must be accompanied by a guardian—a rule that Herb has really

cracked down on since Olivia’s death. But neither Wallow nor I felt like chaperoning.

And Olivia was eight and a half, which rounds up to twelve. “Stick to the perimeter of

the island,” Wallow told her. “And get that crab sled back before sundown. Any late

fees are coming out of your allowance.”

奥莉维亚大发脾气。“我们还可以玩半个小时的‘蟹橇’呢！”她的眼中泛着

泪光，一看就知道是小孩子的把戏。她说：“你们没必要跟着我”。

按照规定，我们需要跟着她。赫伯蟹撬有规定，未满十二岁的孩子必须有监

护人陪同——奥利维亚死后，这个规定实行得更为严格。当时，我和瓦洛都不想

当奥莉维亚的监护人，想着奥莉维亚已经八岁半，同十二岁也差不了多少，于是

瓦洛警告奥莉维亚，“别离开海盗”，“太阳落山以前把‘蟹橇’还回去，要是耽

误了还‘蟹橇’就扣你的零用钱”。

“Yeah, yeah,” she assured us, clambering into the sled. The sun was already

24

low in the sky. “I’m just going out one last time.”

“好滴，好滴，” 奥莉维亚连连答应，又吃力地爬进了“蟹橇”，天上的太

阳已经很低了，她说：“我再最后玩一次”。

We helped Olivia drag the sled up the white dunes. She sat Indian style in the

center of the shell, humming tunelessly. Then we gave her a final push that sent her

racing down the slopes. We watched as she flew out over the rock crags and into the

foamy water. By the time we’d gathered our towels and turned to go, Olivia was just a

speck on the horizon. Neither of us noticed how quickly the tide was going out.

Most people think that tides are caused by the moon alone, but that is not the

case. Once a month, the sun and the moon are both on the same side of the globe.

Then the Atlantic kowtows to their conglomerate gravity. It’s the earth playing

tug-of-war with the sky.

我们帮奥莉维亚把“蟹橇”拖到白色的沙土山丘上，她盘腿坐在螃蟹壳离，

哼着不成调的曲子，冲进了泛着泡沫的大海。等我们收拾好浴巾转身走开的时候，

奥莉维亚已经缩小成了地平线上的一个小黑点。我和瓦洛都没想到海水很快就要

涨起来了。

大部分人认为潮汐仅是月球引力造成的，但其实不是。每个月，太阳和月球

就有一次会位于地球的同一侧。三者的合力会牵着大西洋的海水流动。就像地球

在和天空拔河。

On new-moon nights, the sky is winning. The spring tide swells exceptionally

high. The spring tide has teeth. It can pull a boat much farther than your average

quarter-moon neap tide. When they finally found Olivia’s crab sled, it was halfway to

Cuba, and empty.

“What do you see, bro?” “Oh, not much.” I cough. I peer back under the

surface of the water. There’s an aurora borealis exploding inches from my submerged

face. “Probably just plankton.”

When I come up to clear the goggles, I can barely see Wallow. He is silhouetted

against the lone orange lamp, watching me from the pier. Water seeps out of my nose,

my ears. It weeps down the corners of the lenses. I push the goggles up and rub my

eyes with my fists, which just makes things worse. I kick to stay afloat, the snorkel

digging into my cheek, and wave at my brother. Wallow doesn’t wave back.

有新月的夜晚，天空的引力最大。春潮翻涌地异常高。与通常月牙出现时的

小潮相比，它更猛烈，可以把船拖得更远。当人们最后找到奥莉维亚的“蟹撬”

25

时，仅离古巴一半路程，空荡荡的。

“你在看什么，老弟？”“啥也没看。”我咳了一下。我在水下凝视着背后，

看到一束北极光在离我几英寸的地方炸开。“或许只是浮游生物吧。”

当我擦泳镜的时候，我几乎看不到瓦洛。他的轮廓映在孤冷的橘色灯光里，

在码头上远远的看着我。海水从我的鼻子和耳朵里渗出，从泳镜的角落里流出来。

我把泳镜推到头顶，用拳头揉揉眼睛，越发看不清了。我用脚蹬着水，浮在水面

上，通气管戳到了我的脸颊。我不停向哥哥招手，瓦洛却没回应。

I don’t want to tell Wallow, but I have no idea what I just saw, although I’m sure

there must be some ugly explanation for it. I tell myself that it was just cyanobacteria,

or lustrous pollutants from the Bimini glue factory. Either way, I don’t want to

double-check. I shiver in the water, letting the salt dry on my shoulders, listening to

the echo of my breath in the snorkel. I fantasize about towels. But Wallow is still

watching me, his face a blank oval. I tug at the goggles and stick my head under for a

second look.

Immediately, I bite down on the mouthpiece of the snorkel to stop myself from

screaming. The goggles: they work. And every inch of the ocean is haunted. There are

ghost fish swimming all around me. My hands pass right through their flat bodies.

Phantom crabs shake their phantom claws at me from behind a sunken anchor.

Octopuses cartwheel by, leaving an effulgent red trail. A school of minnows swims

right through my belly button. Dead, I think. They are all dead.

我不想告诉瓦洛我看到了什么，我自己也不知道，但是我确定是一些讨厌的

东西。我说服自己那只是蓝藻细菌，或者是比米尼胶厂有光泽的污染物。反正，

我不想去确认下。我在海水中冻得瑟瑟发抖，任凭海水在我肩上晾干，听着自己

在通气管中呼吸的回声。我幻想到了奥莉维亚离开时我拿着的毛巾。但是瓦洛一

直在盯着我，他的脸像一个白色的椭圆。我戴上泳镜，扎进水里重新看一下。

我立刻咬住通气管，以免自己尖叫。泳镜起作用了。海水里到处都是幽魂，

鱼魂在我周围游来游去。我的手可以径直地穿过他们扁平的身体。螃蟹幽魂在沉

没的锚后向我晃动着钳子。章鱼横翻而过，留下一道耀眼的红色痕迹。一群米诺

鱼直直地游过我肚脐。死了，我想，他们已经死了，这些只是幽魂。

“Um, Wallow?” I gasp, spitting out the snorkel. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Sure you can.”

Squat, boulder-shouldered, Wallow is standing over the ladder, guarding it like a

gargoyle. There’s nowhere for me to go but back under the water.

26

Getting used to aquatic ghosts is like adjusting to the temperature of the ocean.

After the initial shock gives way, your body numbs. It takes a few more close

encounters with the lambent fish before my pulse quiets down. Once I realize that the

ghost fish can’t hurt me, I relax into something I’d call delight if I weren’t supposed

to be feeling bereaved.

“呃，瓦洛？”我气喘吁吁地说，吐出通气管。“我做不来了。”

“你当然可以。”

瓦洛肩靠着卵石蜷缩着，紧盯着梯子，像个石像鬼一样保护着它。我哪儿也

不去，还是回到水里。

适应水中幽魂跟适应海水的温度一样。先是一阵颤抖后，身体就麻木了。我

需要跟这些亮亮的鱼进一步接触后，才能使脉搏跳动恢复正常。。意识到这些鱼

魂不会伤害我后，我放松下来，心情就好像我没有失去奥莉维亚般欢畅。

I spend the next two hours pretending to look for Olivia. I shadow the spirit

manatees, their backs scored with keloid stars from motorboat propellers. I somersault

through stingrays. Bonefish flicker around me like mute banshees. I figure out how to

braid the furry blue light of dead coral reef through my fingertips. I’ve started to enjoy

myself, and I’ve nearly succeeded in exorcising Olivia from my thoughts, when a

bunch of ghost shrimp materialize in front of my goggles, like a photo rinsed in a

developing tray. The shrimp twist into a glowing alphabet, some curling, some

flattening, touching tails to antennae in smoky contortions. Then they loop together to

form words, as if drawn by some invisible hand: “g-l-o-ww-o-r-m g-r-o-t-t-o.”

接下来的两个小时，我假装在找奥莉维亚。我跟着海牛，它们的背脊像是被

汽船的螺旋桨划伤过，遍布疙瘩。我翻了一个筋斗，越过了黄貂鱼。北梭鱼像个

女妖一样在我身边摇曳着。我知道了怎样用我的指尖把死珊瑚礁的绿光编织起

来。我开始尽情享受，几乎忘记了奥莉维亚。接着一群虾魂出浮到我泳镜前，像

一张照片在显影盘中冲洗一样。这些虾魂扭成一个发光的字母表，有的蜷曲着，

有的扁平着，从尾巴到触须都在扭动着。紧接着，它们圈在一起变成了单词，像

是无形的手画出来的：“g-l-o-ww-o-r-m g-r-o-t-t-o(萤火虫之家)。”

We thought the Glowworm Grotto was just more of Olivia’s make-believe.

Olivia was a cartographer of imaginary places. She’d crayon elaborate maps of

invisible castles and sunken cities. When the Glowworm Grotto is part of a portfolio

that includes Mt. Waffle Cone, it’s hard to take it seriously.

I loved Olivia. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t recognize that she was one weird

27

little kid. She used to suffer these intense bouts of homesickness in her own bedroom.

When she was very small, she would wake up tearing at her bedspread and shrieking,

“I wanna go home! I wanna go home!”—which was distressing to all of us, of course,

because she was home.

我们认为萤火虫之家就是奥莉维亚的象征。奥莉维亚擅长画梦幻地方。她会

用蜡笔画出虚幻的城堡和沉没之城。如果画中有华夫甜点山，萤火虫之家会不会

出现，就要重新考虑了。

我爱奥莉维亚，但这并不意味着我不把她当成一个怪异的小孩子。过去，她

常常呆在自己的屋子里，却乡愁绵绵。当她还小的时候，她睡醒后一边扯着床单

一边尖叫着“我要回家！我要回家！”——这使我们非常烦恼，因为，她就在家

里。

That said, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Olivia was an adoptee from some

other planet. She used to change into Wallow’s rubbery yellow flippers on the bus,

then waddle around the school halls like some disoriented mallard. She played

“house” by getting the broom and sweeping the neon corpses of dead jellyfish off the

beach. Her eyes were a stripey cerulean, inhumanly bright. Dad used to tell Olivia that

a merman artisan had made them, out of bits of sea glass from Atlantis.

Wallow saved all of her drawings. The one labelled “glowerm groto” is a sketch

of a dusky red cave, with a little stick-Olivia swimming into the entrance. Another

drawing shows the roof of the cave. It looks like a swirly firmament of stars,

dalmatianed with yellow dots.

因此，如果说奥莉维亚是爸妈从外星球收养过来的，我也不惊讶。她曾经经

在公交车上换上瓦洛黄色的橡胶蹼，在学校走廊里摇摇摆摆地走，像只迷路的野

鸭子。她也会在家里拿着扫帚玩过家家，并把死水母从海边扫走。她的眼睛深邃

湛蓝。爸爸曾告诉奥莉维亚她的眼睛是人与工匠用亚特兰蒂斯的海玻璃片做成。

瓦洛保存了奥莉维亚所有的画。有一个叫“萤火虫之家”，画的是一个暗红

色的洞穴，画中奥莉维亚正向洞口游去。另一幅画画的是洞顶，看上去就像漫天

黄色的星星点缀着漩涡似的夜空。

“That’s what you see when you’re floating on your back,” Olivia told us,

rubbing the gray crayon down to its nub. “The Glowworm Grotto looks just like the

night sky.”

“That’s nice,” we said, exchanging glances. Neither Wallow nor I knew of any

caves along the island shore. I figured it must be another Olivia utopia, a no-place.

28

Wallow thought it was Olivia’s oddball interpretation of Gannon’s Boat Graveyard.

“Maybe that rusty boat hangar looked like the entrance to a cave to her,” he’d

said. Maybe. If you were eight, and nearsighted, and nostalgic for places that you’d

never been.

“你们仰天漂浮在水上，就会看到，”奥莉维亚一边对我们说，一边拿着灰

色的蜡笔画画直到用完。“萤火虫之家就好似这夜空。”

“很漂亮，”我和瓦洛互换眼神说。我们都不知道海滨有什么洞穴。我想这

一定是奥莉维亚幻想的另一个乌托邦。瓦罗说这洞穴是奥莉维亚对甘农废旧船厂

的怪异理解。

“可能那锈迹斑斑的船厂对她来说就是洞穴的入口，”瓦洛说。如果你只有

八岁，近视眼，对你从未去过的地方没怀念之情，那就有可能。

But, if the Glowworm Grotto actually exists, that changes everything. Olivia’s

ghost could be there now, twitching her nose with rabbity indignation—“But I left you

a map!” Wondering what took us so long to find her.

When I surface, the stars have vanished. The clouds are turning red around their

edges. I can hear Wallow snoring on the pier. I pull my naked body up and flop onto

the warm planks, feeling salt-shucked and newborn. When I spit the snorkel out of my

mouth, the unfiltered air tastes acrid and foreign. The Glowworm Grotto. I wish I

didn’t have to tell Wallow. I wish we’d never found the stupid goggles. There are

certain things that I don’t want to see.

但是，如果萤火虫之家确实存在的话，所有的事情都会改变。奥莉维亚的鬼

魂现在一定就在那儿，正在愤怒地抽泣着——“但是，我给你们留了地图呀！”

惊奇为什么我们花了这么长时间还没找到她。

但我浮出水面，星星消失了。云的周围开始变红。我听到瓦洛在码头打呼噜。

我赤裸着从水里出来，扑通一声做到暖和的木板上，感觉到海盐从我身上剥落，

我又重生了。我把通气管从嘴中吐出来，未滤过的空气刺鼻陌生。我希望我从未

把萤火虫之家告诉瓦洛，我希望我们从没找到这幅讨厌的泳镜，让我看到了不想

见的一些东西。

When we get back to Granana’s, her cottage is shuttered and dark. Fat raindrops,

the icicles of the Tropics, hang from the eaves. We can hear her watching

“Evangelical Bingo” in the next room.

“Revelation 20:13!” she hoots. “Bingo!”

Our breakfast is on the table: banana pancakes, with a side of banana pudding.

29

The kitchen is sticky with brown peels and syrup. Granana no longer has any teeth.

For the past two decades, she has subsisted almost entirely on bananas, banana-based

dishes, and other foods that you can gum. This means that her farts smell funny, and

her calf muscles frequently give out. It means that Wallow and I eat out a lot during

the summer.

我们回到奶奶家时，屋子已经关了，灯也灭了。豆大的雨滴和热带地区的冰

锥悬挂在屋檐下。我们能听到奶奶在隔壁看“福音宾戈”电视节目。

“启示20:13!” 她尖叫道。“对了！”

我们的早餐在桌子上面：香蕉薄饼，旁边是香蕉布丁。厨房黏糊糊的，有灰

色的果皮和糖浆。奶奶已经没有牙齿了。在过去的二十年里，她用来维持生命的

就是香蕉，或者香蕉做成的食物，或者其他可以嚼动的食物。所以奶奶放的屁闻

起来挺有趣的，她的腓肠肌群没有力气。这就意味着我和瓦洛这个夏天经常在外

面吃饭。

Wallow finds Olivia’s old drawings of the Glowworm Grotto. We spread them

out on the table, next to a Crab Shack menu with a cartoon map of the island. Wallow

is busy highlighting the jagged shoreline, circling places that might harbor a cave,

when Granana shuffles into the kitchen. “What’s all this?” She peers over my shoulder.

“Christ,” she says. “Still mooning over that old business?”

Granana doesn’t understand what the big deal is. She didn’t cry at Olivia’s

funeral, and I doubt she even remembers Olivia’s name. Granana lost, like, ninety-two

million kids in childbirth. All of her brothers died in the war. She survived the

Depression by stealing radish bulbs from her neighbors’ garden, and fishing the elms

for pigeons. Dad likes to say this in a grave voice, as if it explained her jaundiced

pitilessness: “Boys. Your grandmother ate pigeons.”

瓦洛找到了奥莉维亚的萤火虫之家的画。我们把它们在桌子上摊开，一边的

螃蟹小屋的菜单，上面有小岛的卡通地图。瓦洛忙着标出参差不齐的海岸线，圈

出可能有洞穴的地方，这时，奶奶蹒跚地走进厨房。“这些都是什么？”她凝视

着我肩膀下。“天呀,”她说道，你们还想再想这过去的那件事呀？”

奶奶不理解这件事的严重性。她在奥莉维亚的葬礼上没有哭，我甚至怀疑奶

奶是否还记得奥莉维亚的名字。奶奶是九千二百万出生孩子之一。她所有的兄弟

都死于战争。在大萧条时，她靠从邻居花园里偷小萝卜根，从榆树上掏鸽子吃才

活下来。爸爸总是用沉重的语气讲述这件事，像是在解释为什么奶奶那么残忍：

“孩子们，你们的奶奶连鸽子都吃。”

30

“Wasn’t much for drawing, was she?” Granana says. She taps at stick-Olivia.

“Wasn’t much for swimming, either.”

Wallow visibly stiffens. For a second, I’m worried that he’s going to slug

Granana in her wattled neck. Then she raises her drawn-on eyebrows. “Would you

look at that—the nudey cave. Your grandfather used to take me skinny-dipping there.”

Wallow and I do an autonomic, full-body shudder. I get a sudden mental image

of two shelled walnuts floating in a glass.

“她不太会画画吧，是吗？”奶奶说。他指着萤火虫之家画中的奥莉维亚，

“她也不太会游泳吧？”

瓦洛神情明显沉重起来。瞬间，我开始担心他会掐住奶奶松弛的脖子。随后，

奶奶提了提眉毛，“你们想看裸穴吗，你们的爷爷过去常带我去那儿裸泳。”

瓦洛和我不禁打了个寒战，我突然想到两个带皮的核桃在玻璃杯中漂游的场

景。

“You mean you recognize this place, Granana?”

“No thanks to this chicken scratch!” She points to an orange dot in the corner of

the picture, so small that I hadn’t even noticed it. “But look where she drew the sunset.

Use your noggins. Must be one of them coves on the western side of the island. I don’

t remember exactly where.”

“What about the stars on the roof?”

Granana snorts. “Worm shit!”

“Huh?”

“Worm shit,” she repeats. “You never heard of glowworms, Mr. Straight-A

Science Guy? Their shit glows in the dark. All them coves are covered with it.”

“奶奶，您是说您知道这个地方？”

“不是因为这个像鸡搔过的痕迹！”她指着画中角落里的橘色小点，太小了，

我甚至没注意到。“但是看她画日落的地方。好好想下，一定是小岛西边的一个

峡谷。我不记得具体的位置。” “

那洞顶上的星星呢？”

奶奶扑哧一笑。“是萤火虫屎。”

“啊？”

“萤火虫屎，”她重复道。“优秀的科学家们，你们没听说过萤火虫吗？他们

的粪便会在黑暗中发光，遍布它们居住的峡谷。

We never recovered Olivia’s body. Two days after she went missing, Tropical

31

Storm Vita brought wind and chaos and interrupted broadcasts, and the search was

called off. Too dangerous, the Coast Guard lieutenant said. He was a fat, earnest man,

with tiny black eyes set like watermelon seeds in his pink face.

“When wind opposes sea,” he said in a portentous singsong, “the waves build

fast.”

“Thank you, Billy Shakespeare,” my father growled under his breath. For some

reason, this hit Dad the hardest—harder than Olivia’s death itself, I think. The fact

that we had nothing to bury.

我们一直没找到奥莉维亚的尸体。她消失两天后，热带风暴维达席卷而来，

造成一片混乱，无线广播也中断了，对奥莉维亚的搜救工作也因此停止。海岸护

卫队的中尉说太危险了。他是个胖胖的热心肠人，两只黑色的小眼睛在他粉色的

脸上像两粒西瓜子儿。

“风暴到达海面时，”他语调平稳，让人不安，“风浪异常汹涌。”

“谢谢你，比利•莎士比亚，”爸爸低声说，内心却在咆哮。这对爸爸的打击

最大，远远大于奥莉维亚去世这个事实。我们连埋葬的尸体都没有。

It’s possible that Olivia washed up on a bone-white Cojímar beach, or got

tangled in some Caribbean fisherman’s net. It’s probable that her lungs filled up with

buckets of tarry black water and she sank. But I don’t like to think about that. It’s

easier to imagine her turning into an angelfish and swimming away, or being bodily

assumed into the clouds.

Most likely, Dad says, a freak wave knocked her overboard. Then the current

yanked the sled away faster than she could swim. In my night terrors, I watch the sea

turn into a great, gloved hand that rises out of the ocean to snatch her. I told Wallow

this once, hoping to stir up some fraternal empathy. Instead, Wallow sneered at me.

奥莉维亚可能被冲到了骨白色的科希马尔沙滩上了，或者是缠在了加勒比渔

民的渔网上。也可能她的肺里灌满了黑色焦油沉到了海底。但是我不想去想这些。

我宁可幻想她变成一只神仙鱼游走了，或者设想她变成云朵。

爸爸说，很可能一阵异常的海浪掀翻了奥莉维亚的“蟹撬”。撬被拉走的速

度远比她游地快。我经常做噩梦，梦中大海变成一只巨大戴手套的手，从海中伸

出把奥莉维亚掳走了。我曾经把这个梦告诉瓦洛，希望激起他手足同情心，但瓦

洛却嘲笑了我一番。

“Are you serious? That’s what you have nightmares about, bro? Some lame-ass

Mickey Mouse glove that comes out of the sea?” His lip curled up, but there was envy

32

in his voice, too. “I just see my own hands, you know? Pushing her down that hill.”

The following evening, Wallow and I head over to Herb’s Crab Sledding Rentals.

Herb smokes on his porch in his yellowed boxers and a threadbare Santa hat, rain or

shine. Back when we were regular sledders, Wallow always used to razz Herb about

his getup.

“Ho ho ho,” Herb says reflexively. “Merry Christmas. Sleigh bells ring, are ya

listening.” He gives a halfhearted shake to a sock full of quarters. “Hang on, nauticats.

Can’t sled without informed consent.”

“你没开玩笑吧?这就是你的噩梦，老弟？从海里冒出带着该死的米奇老鼠

手套的手”他撅起嘴，口气中带着鄙弃。“你知道吗，我只看到了我自己的手。

是我的手把她推下山丘的。”

第二天晚上，我和瓦洛去了赫伯的蟹撬租赁屋。赫伯在走廊里吸烟，穿着一

条黄色的平角裤，戴着一顶破烂的圣诞帽，晴天雨天，他都这样穿。以前我们经

常来这儿划“蟹撬”时，瓦洛总会嘲笑赫伯一番。

“吼吼吼，”赫伯条件反射地笑道。“圣诞快乐。雪橇铃响了，你们在听吗。”

他半心半意地摇了下装满25美分的圣诞袜。“等等，小孩子们。没有同意书是不

能划的。

Thanks to the Olivia Bill, new island legislation requires all island children to

take a fourteen-hour Sea Safety! course before they can sled. They have to wear

helmets and life preservers, and sign multiple waivers. Herb is dangling the

permission form in front of our faces. Wallow accepts it with a genial “Thanks,

Herb!” Then he crushes it in his good fist.

“Now wait a sec . . .” Herb scratches his ear. “I, ah, I didn’t recognize you boys.

I’m sorry, but you know I can’t rent to you. Anyhow, it’ll be dark soon, and neither

one of you is certified.”

奥莉维亚出事后，岛上新法规规定在划“蟹撬”前，岛上所有的孩子必须参

加为时十四小时的海上安全课程。他们须佩带头盔和救生用具，并且签署免责书。

赫伯拿着许可表在我们面前晃悠。瓦洛很和善地说：“谢谢你，赫伯！”随即便用

拳头把许可表揉碎了。

“等下……”赫伯搔着耳朵。“我，呃，我刚没认出你们兄弟俩儿。抱歉，

你们知道我不能租给你们。再说，天马上就黑了，而且你们俩都没有许可证。”

Wallow walks over to one of the sleds and, unhelmeted, unjacketed, shoves it

into the water. The half shell bobs there, one of the sturdier two-seaters, a boiled-red

33

color. He picks up a pair of oars, so that we can row against the riptides. He glares at

Herb.

“We are going to take the sled out tonight, and tomorrow night, and every night

until our parents get back. We are going to keep taking it out until we find Olivia.” He

pauses. “And we are going to pay you three hundred and seventy-six dollars in cash.”

Coincidentally, this is the exact dollar amount of Granana’s Social Security check.

瓦洛向一个“蟹撬”走去，把它推进了水里，没有戴头盔，也没穿救生衣。

一半的蟹壳都在那儿，其中一个颜色鲜红，带有结实的双座。他拿起一对儿桨，

这样我们就能逆着激流划。他盯着赫伯。

“我们今晚要划着出去，明晚也是，我爸妈回来之前的每个晚上都是。我们

会一直用它直到找到奥莉维亚。”他顿了下。“我们会给你三百七十六美元现金。”

非常巧的是，奶奶的社会保险金正好也是这个数目。

Herb doesn’t say a word. He takes the wad of cash, runs a moistened finger

through it, and stuffs it under his Santa hat. He waits until we are both in the sled

before he opens his mouth.

“Boys,” he says. “You have that crab sled back here before dawn. Otherwise,

I’m calling the Coast Guard.”

Every night, we go a little farther. Out here, you can see dozens of shooting stars,

whole galactic herds of them, winking out into cheery oblivion. They make me think

of lemmings, flinging themselves over an astral cliff.

赫伯没有吭声。他拿起那一卷钱，用湿润的手开始数，然后放进了圣诞帽下。

我们坐进“蟹撬”后，他张口说。

“孩子们，”他说。“你们要在天亮前把“蟹撬”还回来，不然，我会叫海岸

护卫队的。”

每天晚上，我们都划得远些。海上的夜空有好多流星，欢快地划向天际，整

个银河都是。

We are working our way around the island, with Gannon’s Boat Graveyard as

our ground zero. I swim parallel to the beach, and Wallow follows along in the crab

sled, marking up the shoreline that we’ve covered on our map. “X” marks all the

places where Olivia is not. It’s slow going. I’m not a strong swimmer, and I have to

paddle back to Wallow every fifteen minutes.

“And just what are we going to do when we find her?” I want to know. It’s the

third night of our search. We are halfway around the island, on the sandbar near the

34

twinkling lights of the Bowl-a-Bed Hotel. Wallow’s face is momentarily illuminated

by the cycloptic gaze of the lighthouse. It arcs out over the water, a thin scythe of light

that serves only to make the rest of the ocean look scarier. “What exactly are we going

to do with her, Wallow?”

我们在海岛周围划行，把甘农的废弃船厂作为起点。我在水里沿着沙滩游泳，

瓦洛在“蟹撬”里跟着我，对我们之前在地图上找到的海岸线做标记。“X”表示

奥莉维亚不在的地方。我们弄的很慢。我不是个很强的游泳选手，不得不每十五

分钟游回瓦洛身边一次。

“我们找到她后怎么办呢？”我想知道。这是我们出来寻找奥莉维亚的第三

个晚上。我们在沙洲上绕岛划了一半，附近是舒适酒店，灯火通明。瓦洛的脸瞬

间被灯塔的光照亮，光线在海面上洒出一个弧形，像一把细细的镰刀，把大海映

得更加恐怖。“我们该怎么办呀，瓦洛？”

This question has been weighing on my mind more and more heavily of late.

Because let’s just say, for argument’s sake, that there is a Glowworm Grotto, and that

Olivia’s ghost haunts it. Then what? Do we genie-in-a-bottle her? Keep her company

on weekends? I envision eternal Saturday nights spent treading cold water in a cave,

crooning lullabies to the husk of Olivia, and shudder.

“What do you mean?” Wallow says, frowning. “We’ll rescue her. We’ll

preserve her, uh, you know, her memory.”

“And how exactly do you propose we do that?”

“I don’t know, bro!” Wallow furrows his brow, flustered. You can tell he hasn’t

thought much beyond finding Olivia. “We’ll—we’ll put her in an aquarium.”

“An aquarium?” Now it’s my turn to be derisive. “And then what? Are you

going to get her a kiddie pool?”

越往后我就越想这个问题。出于方便讨论，我们就说有一个萤火虫之家，奥

莉维亚的魂魄就在里面飘荡。然后呢？我们要把她像妖怪一样装进瓶子里吗？每

个周末都陪着她？我想象着每周六晚上，踩着洞穴里寒冷的海水，对着奥莉维亚

的尸体轻哼摇篮曲，不经颤抖。

“你什么意思啊？”瓦洛皱着眉头说。“我们要就她，我们要保存她，呃，

你知道，保存她的记忆。”

“那你计划着我们应具体做什么？”

“我不知道，老！”瓦洛紧皱眉头，不安地说。可以看出他并没想太多找到

奥莉维亚后的事情。“我们会——会把她放进玻璃缸里。”

“玻璃缸？”现在轮到我来嘲笑他了。“然后呢？你打算给你一个小屁孩儿

35

泳池？”

It seems to me that nobody’s asking the hard questions here. For example, what

if ghost-Olivia doesn’t have eyes anymore? Or a nose? What if an eel has taken up

residence inside her skull, and every time it lights up it sends this unholy electricity

radiating through her sockets?

Wallow fixes me with a baleful stare. “Are you pussying out, bro? She’s your

sister, for Christ’s sake. You telling me you’re afraid of your own kid sister? Don’t

worry about what we’re going to do with her, bro. We have to find her first.”

I say nothing. But I keep thinking: It’s been two years. What if all the Olivia-ness

has already seeped out of her and evaporated into the violet welter of clouds?

Evaporated, and rained down, and evaporated, and rained down. Olivia slicking over

all the rivers and trees and dirty cities in the world. So that now there is only silt, and

our stupid, salt-diluted longing. And nothing left of our sister to find.

似乎没人打算问很尖锐的问题。像要是奥莉维亚的鬼魂没有眼呢？或没有鼻

子呢？要是她的脑壳里全是鳗鱼呢，要是她通过臼发出诡异的光呢？

瓦洛狠狠地瞪着我。“你在瞎逼逼什么，老弟？她是你妹妹，天哪。你是在

说你害怕你的小妹妹吗？不要担心找到她后怎么办，老弟。我们得先找到她。”

我什么也没说。但是我一直在想:已经两年了。要是奥莉维亚的魂魄离开躯

体，蒸发进翻滚的紫色云朵里呢？先蒸发，再变成雨落下，蒸发，又落下。奥莉

维亚变成雨落入河流、树上和世界上一些肮脏的城市。现在仅有淤泥，还有我们

愚蠢的被海水稀释的念想。没有留下妹妹的一丝痕迹可以追寻。

On the fourth night of our search, I see a churning clump of ghost children. They

are drifting straight for me, all kelped together, an eyeless panic of legs and feet and

hair. I kick for the surface, heart hammering.

“Wallow!” I scream, hurling myself at the crab sled. “I just saw—I just—I’m

not doing this anymore, bro, I am not. You can go stick your face in dead kids for a

change. Let Olivia come find us.”

“Calm it down.” Wallow pokes at the ocean with his oar. “It’s only trash.” He

fishes out a nasty mass of diapers and chicken gristle and whiskery red seaweed, all

threaded around the plastic rings of a six-pack. “See?”

I sit huddled in the corner of the sled, staring dully at the blank surface of the

water. I know what I saw.

我们搜寻妹妹的第四个晚上，我看到了一群在海水里搅动的小孩亡灵。他们

36

被海藻缠在一起，直直地向我漂来，吓得我毛骨悚然，腿脚发软。我奋力地游到

海面，心砰砰乱跳。

“瓦洛 ！”我尖叫道，快速地爬进“蟹撬”。“我刚刚看到——我刚刚——我

不想再找了，哥哥，我不找了。你可以自己去看看那些死去的孩子，让奥莉维亚

来找我们。

“冷静下来。”瓦洛用桨拨着海水。“那只是垃圾。”他打捞上来一团脏兮兮

的尿不湿、鸡骨头还有带须的红色海藻，全都缠在一个箱子的塑料拉环上。“看

到了没？”

我坐在蟹撬的角落里，缩成一团，呆呆地盯着空荡荡的海面。我知道我看到

了什么。

The goggles are starting to feel less like a superpower and more like a divine

punishment, one of those particularly inventive cruelties that you read about in Greek

mythology. Every now and then, I think about how much simpler and more pleasant

things would be if the goggles conferred a different kind of vision. Like if I could read

messages written in squid ink, or laser through the Brazilian girls’ tankinis. But then

Wallow interrupts these thoughts by dunking me under the water. Repeatedly.

“Keep looking,” he snarls, water dripping off his face.

游泳镜的超能力似乎下降了，她更像是上天的惩罚，一种在希腊神话故事特

有的酷刑，极其残忍。偶尔我在想要是游泳镜给我另一种景象，会不会简单欢快

很多。就像我可以读懂用乌贼墨写的信息，或者可以看穿巴西女孩的泳衣。但是

瓦洛把我一次次按进水里，打断了这些想法。

“继续找，”他咆哮道，海水从他的脸上滑下来。

On the fifth night of our search, I see a plesiosaur. It is a megawatt behemoth,

bronze and blue-white, streaking across the sea floor like a torpid comet. Watching it,

I get this primordial déjà vu, like I’m watching a dream return to my body. It wings

toward me with a slow, avian grace. Its long neck is arced in an S-shaped curve; its

lizard body is the size of Granana’s carport. Each of its ghost flippers pinwheels

colored light. I try to swim out of its path, but the thing’s too big to avoid. That

Leviathan fin, it shivers right through me. It’s a light in my belly, cold and familiar.

And I flash back to a snippet from school, a line from a poem or a science book, I

can’t remember which:

There are certain prehistoric things that swim beyond extinction.

在搜寻的第五个夜晚，我看到了一只蛇颈龙。它是只巨兽，铜色中带有蓝白

37

色，像颗蠢笨的彗星，疾速地游过海床。看着它，有种似曾相识的感觉，就像是

梦境呈现在我眼前。它缓缓地、优雅地扇着翅膀，向我游过来。它长长的脖子弯

成一条“S”型曲线；它蜥蜴般的身体如奶奶的车库那么大；它鬼影般的蹼转动

着，颜色光彩亮丽。我想游出它的路线，但是他过于庞大，始终没躲开。它鬼怪

般的鱼鳍直直地抖向我。一束光照在我肚子上，阴冷而又熟悉。我忽然想起上学

时的一个片段，是首诗或一本自然科学书中一行话描写的情景，我记不清是哪个

了：

确有一些古老的生物可以一直游，无休无止。

I wake up from one of those naps which leach the strength from your bones to a

lightning storm. I must have fallen asleep in the crab sled. Otherworldly light goes

roiling through an eerie blue froth of clouds.

Wallow is standing at the prow of the sled. Each flash of lightning limns his

bared teeth, the hollows of his eyes. It’s as if somebody up there were taking an X-ray

of grief, again and again.

“I just want to tell her that I’m sorry,” Wallow says softly. He doesn’t know that

I’m awake. He’s talking to himself, or maybe to the ocean. There’s not a trace of fear

in his voice. And it’s clear then that Wallow is a better brother than I could ever hope

to be.

我从小睡中醒来，感觉体内的力气被雷电风暴吸走了。我一定是在“蟹撬”

中睡着了。其他世界的光迅猛地云朵中奇怪的蓝色泡沫。

瓦洛正站在撬首。每一道闪电都照出他稀疏的牙齿，深邃的眼睛。好像有人

在一次次投射出悲伤的“X”光线。

“我只想对她说声抱歉，”瓦洛轻轻地说。他不知道我醒了。他在自言自语，

或是想大海诉说，语气中没有一丝恐惧。很明显，瓦洛这个哥哥比我称职，超过

我对自己的希望。

We have rowed almost all the way around the island. In a quarter of an hour,

we’ll be back at Gannon’s Boat Graveyard. Thank merciful Christ. Our parents are

coming back tomorrow, and I can go back to playing video games and feeling dry and

blameless.

Then the lighthouse beacon sweeps out again. It bounces off an outcropping of

rocks that we didn’t notice on our first expedition. White sequins of light pop along

the water.

“Did you see that? That’s it!” Wallow says excitedly. “That’s gotta be it!”

38

“Oh. Excellent.”

我们已经绕岛划了一圈。十五分钟后，我们将会返回甘农的废弃船厂。谢天

谢地，明天我们的爸爸妈妈就回来了，我可以继续玩电子游戏，身子干干的，不

再受到责备。

随后，灯塔又开始横扫海面，扫出岩石。我们第一次搜寻时并没注意到这些

岩石。光线映衬下，水面波光粼粼。

“你看到了吗？就是它！”瓦洛兴奋地说。“就是这个！”

“啊，太好了。”

We paddle the rest of the way out in silence. I row the crab sled like a

condemned man. The current keeps pushing us back, but we make a quiet kind of

progress. I keep praying that the crags will turn out to be low, heaped clouds, or else a

seamless mass of stone. Instead, you can tell that they are pocked with dozens of

holes. For a second, I’m relieved—nobody, not even string-beany Olivia, could swim

into such narrow openings. Wallow’s eyes dart around wildly.

“There has to be an entrance,” he mutters. “Look!”

Sure enough, there is a muted glow coming from the far end of a salt-eaten

overhang, like light from under a door.

“No way can I fit through there,” I gasp, knowing immediately that I can. And

that the crab sled can’t, of course. Which means I’ll be going in to meet her alone.

What if the light, I am thinking, is Olivia?

“It’s just worms, bro,” Wallow says, as if reading my mind. But there’s this

inscrutable sadness on his face. His muddy eyes swallow up the light and give nothing

back.

我们静静地划着剩下的路程。我像一个判了刑的犯人有气无力地划着“蟹

撬”。我们逆着水流慢慢地向前行进。我一直在祈祷峭壁会变成低矮的堆积的云

朵，或是紧密相连的石头。但是，上面布满小孔。一会儿，我松了口气，没有人

可以游进这么狭窄的洞口，就算是细如绳线的奥莉维亚也不行。瓦洛的眼睛疯狂

地环视周围。

“这一定有个入口，”他小声说。“看！”

一定有，崖壁的一端被盐水侵蚀了，透出一束柔和的光，像是从门缝底下射

出来的。

“我根本进不去，”我喘着气说，随即又发现我可以进去。当然，“蟹撬”过

不去。这就意味着我桨单独去见奥莉维亚。

我在想，如果那光是奥莉维亚呢？

39

“那只是虫子，老弟，”瓦洛说，仿佛能读出我的心思。但他脸上泛出莫名的

悲伤。他浑浊的双眼吸聚了亮光但还是无神。

I look over my shoulder. We’re less than half a mile out from shore, could skip a

stone to the mangrove islets; and yet the land draws back like a fat swimmer’s

chimera, impossibly far away.

“Ready?” He grabs at the scruff of my neck and pushes me toward the water.

“Set?”

“No!” Staring at the unlit spaces in the crags, I am choked with horror. I fumble

the goggles off my face. “Do your own detective work!” I dangle the goggles over the

edge of the sled. “I quit.”

从我肩膀看过去，我们离海岸不到半英里，可以越过石头到红树林岛；小岛

缩小了些，太远了不可能跳过去，就像一个胖子妄想会游泳一样难。

“准备好了没？”他抓住我的脖颈，把我推进水。“开始？”

“不！”我盯着没有光线的峭壁，吓得哽咽住了。我去掉泳镜，“你自己去做

侦探吧！”我把泳镜挂在撬的一端。“我不干了。”

Wallow lunges forward and pins me against the side of the boat. He tries to

spatula me overboard with his one good arm, but I limbo under his cast.

“Don’t do it, Timothy,” he cautions, but it is too late.

“This is what I think of your diabolical goggles!” I howl. I hoist the goggles

over my head and, with all the force in my puny arms, hurl them to the floor of the

crab sled.

This proves to be pretty anticlimactic. Naturally, the goggles remain intact.

There’s not even a hairline fracture. Stupid scratchproof lenses.

The worst part is that Wallow just watches me impassively, his cast held aloft in

the air, as if he were patiently waiting to ask the universe a question. He nudges the

goggles toward me with his foot.

瓦洛冲过来，把我按在船的一边。他想用自己的好胳膊把我铲进水里，但我

从他的胳膊下钻到了中间。

“不要这样，蒂莫西，”他警告我，但是太迟了。

“我讨厌死你该死的泳镜了！”我咆哮道。我把泳镜高高举起，使尽胳膊全

力，狠狠地把它砸到“蟹撬”的甲板上。

我的举动虎头蛇尾。而泳镜毫发无损，连发丝状的裂痕也没有。该死的防刮

镜片。

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最糟糕的是瓦洛只是面无表情的看着我，他打着石膏的胳膊高举在空中，仿

佛在向宇宙耐心地问一个问题。他用脚把泳镜轻轻地推给我。

“You finished?”

“Wally!” I blubber, a last-ditch plea. “This is crazy. What if something happens

to me in there and you can’t come in after me? Let’s go back.”

“What?” Wallow barks, disgusted. “And leave Olivia here for dead? Is that

what you want?”

“Bingo!” That is exactly what I want. Maybe Granana is slightly off target

when it comes to the Food Pyramid, but she has the right idea about death. I want my

parents to stop sailing around taking pictures of Sudanese leper colonies. I want

Wallow to row back to shore and sleep through the night. I want everybody in the

goddam family to leave Olivia here for dead.

“闹够了没？”

“哥哥！”我哭闹着最后一次恳求他。“这太疯狂了。如果我在里面出了什么

事，你又不能进去找我怎么办？我们回去吧。”

“什么？”瓦洛厌烦地叫到。“那就让奥莉维亚一个人死在里面？这就是你

想要的吗？”

“是的！”这正是我想要的。也许奶奶偏离了食物金字塔最合理的搭配，但

她对死亡的看法是对的。我想爸妈不要旅行去拍苏丹拍一些麻风病人隔离区的照

片；我想瓦洛划回岸上然后好好睡一觉；我想这个该死的家庭中每个人都让奥莉

维亚死在这儿。

But there’s my brother. Struggling with his own repugnance, like an

entomologist who has just discovered a loathsome new species of beetle. “What did

you say?”

“I said I’ll go,” I mumble, not meeting his eyes. I position myself on the edge

of the boat. “I’ll go.” So that’s what it comes down to, then. I’d rather drown in

Olivia’s ghost than have him look at me that way.

To enter the grotto, you have to slide in on your back, like a letter through a mail

slot. Something scrapes my coccyx bone on the way in. There’s a polar chill in the

water tonight. No outside light can wiggle its way inside.

但是我哥哥在这儿。他就像个昆虫学家，刚刚发现了一个令人作呕的新的甲

虫品种，自己恶心到不行，还要坚持研究。“你说什么？”

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“我说我会去的，”我不看他的眼睛，喃喃说道。我站在船边。“我会去的。”

争吵就这样结束。我宁愿被奥莉维亚的鬼魂淹没，也不愿他那样看着我。

要进入洞穴，就得背贴着洞口滑进去，就像是往信箱口塞封信一样。在往洞

中进时，我的尾骨好像被什么刮伤了。今晚的海水冷的刺骨。外面的光进不了洞

里。

But, sure enough, phosphorescent dots spangle the domed roof of the grotto. It’s

like a radiant checkerboard of shit. You can’t impose any mental pictures on it—it’s

too uniform. It defies the mind’s desire to constellate randomness. The Glowworm

Grotto is nothing like the night sky. The stars here are all equally bright and evenly

spaced, like a better-ordered cosmos.

“Olivia?”

The grotto smells like salt and blood and bat shit. Shadows web the walls. I try

and fail to touch the bottom.

“Oliviaaa?”

但是，的确有亮晶晶的小点缀满洞穴的穹顶，就像是一个棋子是萤火虫屎的

发光棋盘。跟记忆中的散落不齐的星光图片完全不一样——这个太整齐了。萤火

虫之家一点也不像夜晚的星空。这里的星星同样明亮，被整齐的分开，就像一个

整齐有序的宇宙。

“奥莉维亚？”

洞中空气闻起来又咸又腥，还有股蝙蝠屎臭味儿。洞中墙壁上织满了影子。

我试着去触洞底，却怎么也触不到。

“奥莉维亚-亚-亚？”

Her name echoes around the cave. After a while, there is only rippled water again,

and the gonged absence of sound. Ten more minutes, I think. I could splash around

here for ten more minutes and be done with this. I could take off the goggles, even. I

could leave without ever looking below the surface of the water, and Wallow would

never know.

“Oli—”

I take a deep breath, and dive.

她的名字在洞中回响。过了一会儿，又只剩下潺潺的水声，四周一片寂静。

我想着再走十分钟，我再在这儿淌十分钟就行了。我甚至可以去掉泳镜，可以不

去水底看一下就离开。瓦洛不会知道的。

“奥莉——”

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我深吸一口气，潜入了水里。

Below me, tiny fish are rising out of golden cylinders of coral. It looks like an

undersea calliope, piping a song that you can see instead of hear. One of the fish

swims right up and taps against my scratchproof lenses. It’s just a regular blue fish,

solid and alive. It taps and taps, oblivious of the thick glass. My eyes cross, trying to

keep it in focus.

The fish swims off to the beat of some subaqueous music. Everything down here

is dancing—the worms’ green light and the undulant walls and the leopard-spotted

polyps. Everything. And following this fish is like trying to work backward from the

dance to the song. I can’t hear it, though; I can’t remember a single note of it. It fills

me with a hitching sort of sadness.

在我下面，小鱼从珊瑚柱里游上来。看起来就像是水下蒸汽笛风琴，吹奏出

你可以看见但是听不见的曲子。一只小鱼径直游向我，拍打我的镜片。它只是只

普通的蓝色鱼，神灵活现的。它拍打着拍打着，没注意镜片的厚度。我转动着眼

球，试着不打扰它。

小鱼跟着水下音乐的节奏游动着。水下的一切都在舞动——萤火虫绿色的亮

光、起伏的洞壁和豹点状的珊瑚，一切事物。接下来，这只小鱼向后游去，似乎

尝试着跳完舞又开始唱歌。尽管我不能听见；不能记起歌曲中的每个音符。我的

心里却填满了悲伤。

I trail the fish at an embarrassed distance, feeling warm-blooded and ridiculous

in my rubbery flippers, marooned in this clumsy body. Like I’m an impostor, an

imperfect monster.

I look for my sister, but it’s hopeless. The goggles are all fogged up. Every fish

burns lantern-bright, and I can’t tell the living from the dead. It’s all just blurry light,

light smeared like some celestial fingerprint all over the rocks and the reef and the

sunken garbage. Olivia could be everywhere.

我不远不近地跟着小鱼，感觉我的橡胶蹼莫名其妙地热了起来，从我笨拙的

身子脱离了。好像我是一个骗子，是一个犯了错的怪物。

我寻找着妹妹，但是毫无希望。泳镜蒙上了一层雾气。每只鱼都散发亮光，

我分不清他们是死是活。那只是些模糊不清的亮光，就像是映在岩石上，暗礁上

和沉没的垃圾上的神仙手印。奥莉维亚无处不在。

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