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1Limbo等待ByRhondaLucas朗达‧卢卡斯 Myparents’divorcewasfinal.Thehousehadbeensoldandthedayhadcometomove.Thirtyyearsofthefamily’slifewasnowcrammedintothegarage.Thetwo-by-foursthatranthelengthofthewallsweretheonlyuniformityamongtheclutterofboxes,furniture,andmemories.Allwasfrozeninlimbobetweenthelifejustpassedandtheonetocome.父母最终还是离了婚，房子卖了出去，搬家的日子到了。一个家30年生活的种种现在被塞进了车库。车库里堆满了各色盒子、家具和回忆，杂乱不堪，从一端延伸到另一端的2英寸厚4英寸宽的木板是唯一整齐有序的。一切的一切似乎都在焦急地等待着告别过去，迎接未来。Thesunlightpushingitswaythroughthewindowsplatteredagainstabarricadeofboxes.Likeafluorescentriver,itstreameddownthesidesandfloodedthecracksofthecold,cementfloor.Istoodinthedoorwaybetweenthehouseandgarageandwonderedifthesunlightwouldeveragainpenetratethememoriespackedinsidethoseboxes.Foraninstant,thecardboardboxesappearedastombstones,monumentstothosememories.阳光奋力透过窗户，洒在堆成墙的硬纸板盒子上，像一条荧光河，顺着墙边流，流进冰冷水泥地上的裂缝里。我站在房间通往车库的过道里，心底想，不知道盒子里挤得满满当当的回忆是否还有重见天日的那一刻。刹那间，盒子似乎变成了墓碑，诉说着往昔的点滴回忆。Thefurnaceinthecorner,withitshugetubularfingersreachingoutanddisappearingintothewall,wasunawareofthefutilityoftryingtowarmtheemptyhouse.Therhythmicalwhirofitsefforthummedtheelegyforthememoriesboxedinfrontofme.Iclosedthedoor,satdownonthestep,andlistenedreverently.Thefeelingoflosstransformedthebadmemoriesintonot-so-bad,thenot-so-badmemoriesintogood,andcommittedthegoodonestomymind.Still,Ifeltasvacantasthehouseinside.房间一角的壁炉，巨大的炉爪伸进墙壁，兀自徒劳无功想把空荡荡的房间暖起来。匀称的嗡嗡声唱响了装在我面前盒子里回忆的挽歌。我关上门，坐在台阶上，听得入了迷。强烈的失落感让往昔糟糕的回忆变得没那么糟糕，没那么糟糕的回忆变成了美好的回忆，把美好的回忆深深印在我的脑海里。然而，我的内心依旧像房间一般空荡荡的。Aworkbenchtomyrightstooddisgustinglyempty.Notsomuchasanailhadbeenleftbehind.Inoticed,forthefirsttime,whatadull,lifelessgreenitwas.Lackingthedisarrayoftoolsthatusedtocoverit,nowitseemedasoutofplaceasabathtubinthekitchen.Infact,asIscannedtheroom,theonlythingsthatdidseemtobelongwerethecobwebsinthecorners. 2我的右边有一张绿色的工作台，显得突兀。台面收拾的干干净净，连一颗钉子都没有落下。我第一次发现，它的绿是多么呆板，多么没有生气。没有了放置其上的形形色色的工具，它就像放在厨房里的浴缸一样不合时宜。其实，我扫视房间一周之后发现，唯一属于这个房间的似乎只有墙角的蜘蛛网。Agroupofboxeshadbeensetasidefromtheothersandstackedinfrontoftheworkbench.Scrawledlikegraffitionthewallsofdilapidatedbuildingswerethewords“SalvationArmy.”Thosewordscaughtmyeyesaseffectivelyasaflashingneonsign.Theyreekedofirony.“Salvation-wasabittoolateforthisfamily,”Imumbledsarcasticallytomyself.有一堆盒子与其他盒子分了开来，堆在工作台前面。破旧不堪的墙上涂鸦般歪七扭八地写着几个字“salvationarmy”（救世军）。这几个词就像闪烁的霓虹灯，一下子映入我的眼帘。多么讽刺啊。“拯救——对这个家来说已经为时过晚。”我凄然喃喃自语道。Thehousefuloffurniturethathadoncebeensocarefullychosentocomplementandblendwiththecolorschemesofthevariousroomswasindiscriminatelycrammedtogetheragainstasinglewall.Theuncoordinatedcolorscombinedinturmoilandlashedoutinthegreynessoftheroom.为了与各个房间的色彩搭配而精挑细选的家具现在一股脑儿堆在一堵墙边。各种颜色混杂在一起，在灰蒙蒙的房间里显得那么刺眼。Isuddenlybecameawareofthecoldnessofthegarage,butIdidn’twanttogobackinsidethehouse,soImademywaythroughtheboxestothecouch.Iclearedaspacetoliedownandcurledup,coveringmyselfwithmyjacket.Ihopedmyfatherwouldreturnsoonwiththetrucksowecouldemptythegarageandleavethecrypticsilenceofpartinglivesbehind.我突然之间觉得车库很冷，但是又不愿回到房间里去。于是我穿过箱子堆，走到沙发边，清出一片地方，蜷着身子躺下来，拿夹克盖在身上。我很想父亲能尽快开着卡车回来，这样我们就能搬空车库，离开这无可捉摸的沉寂，彻底告别往昔的生活。（选自Patterns:AShortProseReader,byMaryLouConlin,publishedbyHoughtonMifflin,1983.）