诺贝尔文学经典:《宠儿》第4章Part 7

Sethe was looking at one mile of dark water, which would have to be split with one oar in a uselessboat against a current dedicated to the Mississippi hundreds of miles away. It looked like home toher, and the baby (not dead in the least) must have thought so too. As soon as Sethe got close to theriver her own water broke loose to join it. The break, followed by the redundant announcement oflabor, arched her back.
"What you doing that for?" asked Amy. "Ain't you got a brain in your head? Stop that right now. Isaid stop it, Lu. You the dumbest thing on this here earth. Lu! Lu!"
Sethe couldn't think of anywhere to go but in. She waited for the sweet beat that followed the blastof pain. On her knees again, she crawled into the boat. It waddled under her and she had justenough time to brace her leaf-bag feet on the bench when another rip took her breath ing under four summer stars, she threw her legs over the sides, because here come the head, asAmy informed her as though she did not know it — as though the rip was a breakup of walnut logsin the brace, or of lightning's jagged tear through a leather sky.
It was stuck. Face up and drowning in its mother's blood. Amy stopped begging Jesus and began tocurse His daddy.
"Push!" screamed Amy.
"Pull," whispered Sethe.
And the strong hands went to work a fourth time, none too soon, for river water, seeping throughany hole it chose, was spreading over Sethe's hips. She reached one arm back and grabbed the ropewhile Amy fairly clawed at the head. When a foot rose from the river bed and kicked the bottom ofthe boat and Sethe's behind, she knew it was done and permitted herself a short faint. Coming to,she heard no cries, just Amy's encouraging coos. Nothing happened for so long they both believedthey had lost it. Sethe arched suddenly and the afterbirth shot out. Then the baby whimpered andSethe looked. Twenty inches of cord hung from its belly and it trembled in the cooling evening air. Amy wrapped her skirt around it and the wet sticky women clambered ashore to see what, indeed,God had in mind.
Spores of bluefern growing in the hollows along the riverbank float toward the water in silver-bluelines hard to see unless you are in or near them, lying right at the river's edge when the sunshotsare low and drained. Often they are mistook for insects — but they are seeds in which the wholegeneration sleeps confident of a future. And for a moment it is easy to believe each one has one —will become all of what is contained in the spore: will live out its days as planned. This moment ofcertainty lasts no longer than that; longer, perhaps, than the spore itself.

塞丝正望着一段幽暗的河水，那朝着数百英里外的密西西比河奔涌而去的河水，注定要被一条逆流而上的废弃小船的船桨划开了。小船在她看来像个家，那婴儿（根本没死）也一定这么想。一走近这条河，塞丝自己的羊水就涌出来与河水汇聚。先是挣裂，然后是多余的生产的信号，让她弓起了腰。
“你在那儿干什么呢？”爱弥问道，“你还有脑子没有？赶紧停下来。我说快停下来，露。你是这世界上最蠢的东西。露!露!”
塞丝想不出什么地方好去，只想上船。她等待着阵痛后甜蜜的悸动。再次用膝盖爬行，她爬上了小船。船在她身下晃动，她刚把裹着树叶口袋的脚放到长凳上，就被另一阵撕裂的疼痛逼得喘不过气来。在夏日的四颗星星下面，她气喘吁吁地大叉开双腿，因为脑袋钻了出来；爱弥赶紧向她报告，好像她自己不知道似的———好像撕裂就是折断核桃树干，就是闪电将皮革的天空一撕两半。
婴儿卡住了。它脸朝上，让妈妈的血淹没了。爱弥停止祈求耶稣，开始诅咒耶稣他爹。
“使劲!”爱弥尖叫道。
“拽呀。”塞丝低声说。
那双有力的手第四次发挥威力了，但不是立竿见影，因为河水从所有窟窿里钻进来，漫过了塞丝的屁股。塞丝的一只手伸到背后，一把抓住船缆，同时爱弥轻轻地钳住了脑袋。当河床里露出一只小脚，踢着船底和塞丝的屁股时，塞丝知道完事了，就允许自己昏迷了一会儿。醒过来后，她没听见哭声，只听见爱弥在“咕咕”地逗弄那孩子。这么长时间没有动静，她们两个都觉得，她们已失去了她。塞丝突然弓起身子，胎盘胎膜一齐流出体外。然后婴儿哭了起来。塞丝望着她。挂在她肚子上的脐带有二十英寸长；那小家伙在凉爽的夜风中颤抖着。爱弥用裙子包住她。湿漉漉、黏糊糊的两个女人艰难地爬上岸，去看看上帝到底是怎么想的。
蓝羊齿的孢子在河岸的凹地里生长，它们漂向河水的银蓝色行列是很难见到的，除非你就在凹地里，或是离得很近，当夕阳西下、光线渐疏时恰好躺在河岸的边缘。它们往往被误认作小飞虫———然而它们是正在沉睡的整整一代对未来充满信心的种子。而片刻之间人们又很容易相信，每粒种子都拥有一个未来———都会成为孢子中所孕育的一切：像预期的那样安享天年。这确信的一刻不过持续了片刻；也许，倒比孢子本身更为长久。