12
Pennies and Grits 便士和粗玉米粉
1956
For weeks after Pa left, Kya would look up when ravens cawed; maybe they'd seen him swing-stepping through the woods. At any strange sound in the wind, she cocked her head, listening for somebody. Anybody. Even a mad dash from the truant lady would be good sport.
爸爸离开后的几周，听到乌鸦叫，基娅就会抬头看。或许它们看见了爸爸一瘸一拐穿过树林。风中任何奇怪的声音都会让她支起耳朵听有没有人过来。任何人。即使和学校管逃学的老师来一场大逃亡也好。
Mostly she looked for the fishing boy. A few times over the years, she'd seen him in the distance, but hadn't spoken to him since she was seven, three years ago when he showed her the way home through the marsh. He was the only soul she knew in the world besides Jumpin' and a few salesladies. Wherever she glided through the waterways, she scanned for him.
大部分时候，她在找寻那个捕鱼男孩。过去几年里，她远远见过他几次，但七岁之后再也没和他说过话。七岁那年，他带她穿过湿地回家。他是她在这世上除了老跳和几个女收银员外唯一认识的人。无论经过哪个水道，她都会找他。
One morning, as she motored into a cord grass estuary, she saw his boat tucked in the reeds. Tate wore a different baseball cap and was taller now, but even from more than fifty yards, she recognized the blond curls. Kya idled down, maneuvered quietly into long grass, and peered out at him. Working her lips, she thought of cruising over, maybe asking if he had caught any fish. That seemed to be what Pa and anybody else in the marsh said when they came across somebody: “Anythang bitin'? Had any nibbles?”
一天早上，基娅驶进一个长满大米草的河口，看见泰特的船停在芦苇荡中。他戴着不一样的棒球帽，比以前高了，但就算在五十码外，她还是认出了那头金色鬈发。她让马达空转，悄声躲进长草丛里，向外窥视。她动了动嘴唇，想过去打招呼，也许可以问他有没有捕到鱼。这好像是爸爸和其他人在湿地碰面时说的话：“上钩了吗？有没有贪吃鬼？”
But she only stared, didn't move. She felt a strong pull toward him and a strong push away, the result being stuck firmly in this spot. Finally, she eased toward home, her heart pushing against her ribs.
但她只是看着，没有动。她感受到一股强大的拉力将她拉向他，但同时也有一股强大的推力在阻挠，结果，她被死死地摁在了原地。最终，她开着船朝家驶去，心脏抵着肋骨怦怦直跳。
Every time she saw him it was the same: watching him as she did the herons.
每次看到他都一样：像观察苍鹭那样观察他。
She still collected feathers and shells, but left them, salty and sandy, strewn around the brick-'n'-board steps. She dallied some of each day while dishes piled up in the sink, and why wash overalls that got muddied up again? Long ago she'd taken to wearing the old throwaway overalls from gone-away siblings. Her shirts full of holes. She had no more shoes at all.
她依旧收集羽毛和贝壳，但把它们散乱地放在砖木台阶上，还沾着盐和沙子。她每天磨磨蹭蹭地洗着堆在水槽里的碗。工装裤就不洗了，反正很快又会沾满泥点。很久以前她就开始穿走了的哥哥姐姐们不要的工装裤。她的衬衫布满破洞。一双鞋子都没有。
One evening Kya slipped the pink-and-green flowery sundress, the one Ma had worn to church, from the wire hanger. For years now she had fingered this beauty—the only dress Pa didn't burn—had touched the little pink flowers. There was a stain across the front, a faded brown splotch under the shoulder straps, blood maybe. But it was faint now, scrubbed out like other bad memories.
一天晚上，基娅从铁丝衣架上拿下那件粉绿夹杂的印花无袖连衣裙。这是妈妈穿去教堂的裙子。好几年了，她用手指轻抚这美的化身，唯一一条爸爸没有烧掉的裙子，触碰上面小小的粉色花朵。裙子的前胸有一块污渍，肩带下面有一个褪色的棕点，可能是血迹，不过现在很淡了，像其他坏记忆那样被洗掉了。
Kya pulled the dress over her head, down her thin frame. The hem came almost to her toes; that wouldn't do. She pulled it off, hung it up to wait for another few years. It'd be a shame to cut it up, wear it to dig mussels.
基娅把裙子从头顶套下来，然后顺着纤瘦的身体往下拉，裙边几乎碰到脚趾。这可不行。她脱下裙子挂起来，打算再等几年。剪短了穿去挖贻贝太可惜了。
A few days later Kya took the boat over to Point Beach, an apron of white sand several miles south of Jumpin's. Time, waves, and winds had modeled it into an elongated tip, which collected more shells than other beaches, and she had found rare ones there. After securing her boat at the southern end, she strolled north, searching. Suddenly distant voices—shrill and excited—drifted on the air.
几天后，基娅开着船去湾头滩，那是一块白色的沙地，在老跳的码头南边几英里远的地方。时间、浪潮和风把它塑造成了狭长的尖头状，聚集的贝壳比其他沙滩都要多，还有一些罕见品种。把船安全停在南端，她漫步向北，一边走一边搜寻。突然，远处飘来了刺耳、兴奋的喧闹声。
Instantly, she ran across the beach toward the woods, where an oak, more than eighty feet from one side to the other, stood knee-deep in tropical ferns. Hiding behind the tree, she watched a band of kids strolling down the sand, now and then dashing around in the waves, kicking up sea spray. One boy ran ahead; another threw a football. Against the white sand, their bright madras shorts looked like colorful birds and marked the changing season. Summer was walking toward her down the beach.
她立刻穿过沙滩向树林跑去。林子里有一棵巨大的橡树，直径超过八英尺，立在齐膝的热带蕨类植物中。她躲在树后，看到一群孩子正沿沙滩散步，时不时冲进浪里，激起一片水雾。一个男孩跑在前面，另一个扔过去一个足球。在白色沙滩的背景下，他们鲜艳的马德拉斯棉布短裤看起来像色彩斑斓的鸟，标志着季节的转换。夏天就要来了。
As they moved closer, she flattened herself against the oak and peered around. Five girls and four boys, a bit older than she, maybe twelve. She recognized Chase Andrews throwing the ball to those boys he was always with.
他们走近了。基娅紧贴橡树，偷偷看着。五个女孩，四个男孩，都比她大一点，可能十二岁。她认出了蔡斯·安德鲁斯，他正扔球给那群形影不离的哥们。
The girls—Tallskinnyblonde, Ponytailfreckleface, Shortblackhair, Alwayswearspearls, and Roundchubbycheeks—hung back in a little covey, walking slower, chattering and giggling. Their voices lifted up to Kya like chimes. She was too young to care much about the boys; her eyes fixed on the troop of girls. Together they squatted to watch a crab skittering sideways across the sand. Laughing, they leaned against one another's shoulders until they flopped on the sand in a bundle.
女孩子们——瘦高金发、马尾雀斑脸、黑短发、珍珠控和圆润丰满脸颊——结伴落在后面，慢慢走着，咯咯地笑着聊天。在基娅听来，她们的声音和钟声一样悦耳。她还太小，对男孩不太在意。她牢牢盯着那群女孩。她们一起蹲下看一只螃蟹横着爬过沙滩，大笑起来，肩膀蹭着肩膀，直到所有人一起扑通倒在沙滩上。
Kya bit her bottom lip as she watched. Wondering how it would feel to be among them. Their joy created an aura almost visible against the deepening sky. Ma had said women need one another more than they need men, but she never told her how to get inside the pride. Easily, she slipped deeper into the forest and watched from behind the giant ferns until the kids wandered back down the beach, until they were little spots on the sand, the way they came.
看着她们，基娅咬住下唇，好奇和她们在一起会是什么感觉。她们的快乐在变暗的天空下营造出一个几乎肉眼可见的光环。妈妈说，比起男人，女人更需要女人，但她从没说过怎么加入这类群体。她往树林深处走了几步，在巨大的蕨类植物后面偷看，直到那些孩子沿着沙滩回去，逐渐变成和来时一样的小点。
DAWN SMOLDERED beneath gray clouds as Kya pulled up to Jumpin's wharf. He walked out of the little shop shaking his head.
黎明在灰色的云层下郁积。基娅赶到了老跳的码头。他摇着头从店里出来。
“I'm sorry as can be, Miss Kya,” he said. “But they beatcha to it. I got my week's quota of mussels, cain't buy no mo'.”
“基娅小姐，万分抱歉。你被别人赶超了。我已经买够这周的贻贝了，不能再买了。”
She cut the engine and the boat banged against a piling. This was the second week she'd been beat out. Her money was gone and she couldn't buy a single thing. Down to pennies and grits.
她关了引擎，船砰的一声撞在一根桩子上。这是她被人赶超的第二周了。没钱了，什么也买不了。家里只剩下便士和粗玉米粉。
“Miss Kya, ya gotta find some udder ways to bring cash in. Ya can't git all yo' coons up one tree.”
“基娅小姐，你得找点别的法子赚钱，不能吊死在一棵树上。”
Back at her place, she sat pondering on the brick 'n' boards, and came up with another idea. She fished for eight hours straight, then soaked her catch of twenty in saltwater brine through the night. At daybreak she lined them up on the shelves of Pa's old smokehouse—the size and shape of an outhouse—built a fire in the pit, and poked green sticks into the flames like he'd done. Blue-gray smoke billowed and puffed up the chimney and through every crack in the walls. The whole shack huffing.
回到家，她坐在台阶上沉思，想出了另一个主意。她连着钓了八小时的鱼，然后把钓到的二十条鱼放在盐水里浸泡了一晚上。天蒙蒙亮的时候，她把这些鱼晾在爸爸破旧的熏制室的架子上。熏制室的大小形状和屋外的厕所差不多。她在坑里烧起一堆火，学爸爸那样把绿树枝放进去。蓝绿色的烟腾起，喷向烟囱，渗进墙上的每一道缝隙。整个棚屋都在冒烟。
The next day she motored to Jumpin's and, still standing in her boat, held up her bucket. In all it was a pitiful display of small bream and carp, falling apart at the seams. “Ya buy smoked fish, Jumpin'? I got some here.”
第二天，她开船去找老跳，站在船上，举起水桶，里头只有可怜兮兮的一点小鲷鱼和鲤鱼，支离破碎。“你买熏鱼吗，老跳？我这儿有一些。”
“Well, I declare, ya sho' did, Miss Kya. Tell ya what: I'll take 'em on consignment like. If I sell 'em, ya get the money; if I don't, ya get 'em back like they is. That do?”
“好吧，我说，基娅小姐你真有一套。这样吧，我做一回经销商，如果卖出去了，你就拿得到钱；如果卖不出去，你就原样拿回。行吗？”
“Okay, thanks, Jumpin'.”
“好的，谢谢，老跳。”
THAT EVENING Jumpin' walked down the sandy track to Colored Town—a cluster of shacks and lean-tos, and even a few real houses squatting about on backwater bogs and mud sloughs. The scattered encampment was in deep woods, back from the sea, with no breeze, and “more skeeters than the whole state of Jawja.”
那天晚上，老跳沿着沙路走去黑人小镇——一片棚屋和披棚，也有一些真正的房子，坐落在死水沼泽和泥沼里。这片散乱的营地深入树林，远离大海，风吹不进来，“蚊子比整个佐治亚州的蚊子还多”。
After about three miles he could smell the smoke from cookfires drifting through the pines and hear the chatter of some of his grandchillin. There were no roads in Colored Town, just trails leading off through the woods this way and that to different family dwellings. His was a real house he and his pa had built with pine lumber and a raw-wood fence around the hardpan dirt yard, which Mabel, his good-sized wife, swept clean as a whistle just like a floor. No snake could slink within thirty yards of the steps without being spotted by her hoe.
走了大概三英里后，他闻到了穿过松林飘来的炊烟，听到了几个孙子孙女的玩闹声。黑人小镇没有路，只有树林中分岔的小道通向不同人家。他家是一栋真正的房子，是他和爸爸用松木搭建的，还在硬泥地院子周围修了一圈原木篱笆。玛贝尔，他那大块头妻子，每天都把院子扫得像地板一样整洁光亮。台阶周围三十码之内，没有蛇可以偷偷溜走而不被她的锄头拦下。
She came out of the house to meet him with a smile, as she often did, and he handed her the pail with Kya's smoked fish.
她从屋里走出来迎接老跳，脸上带着笑，一如往常。老跳把基娅那个装着熏鱼的桶递过去。
“What's this?” she asked. “Looks like sump'm even dogs wouldn't drag in.”
“这是什么？”她问，“看起来连狗都不愿意吃。”
“It's that girl again. Miss Kya brung 'em. Sometimes she ain't the first one with mussels, so she's gone to smokin' fish. Wants me to sell 'em.”
“还是那个女孩。基娅小姐拿来了这些。有时候她不是第一个来卖贻贝的，所以她转做熏鱼了，想让我卖掉这些。”
“Lawd, we gotta do something 'bout that child. Ain't nobody gonna buy them fish; I can cook 'em up in stew. Our church can come up wif some clothes, other things for her. We'll tell 'er there's some family that'll trade jumpers for carpies. What size is she?”
“天哪，我们得为这个孩子做点什么。没人会买这些鱼。我也不能炖了它们。咱们的教堂可以提供一些衣服和其他东西给她。我们可以告诉她有些家庭愿意用针织套衫做交换。她什么尺码？”
“Ya askin' me? Skinny. All's I know is she's skinny as a tick on a flagpole. I 'spect she'll be there first thing in the mornin'. She's plumb broke.”
“你问我？很瘦。我只知道她瘦得跟旗杆上的虱子似的。我猜她明天会第一个到。她快破产了。”
AFTER EATING A BREAKFAST of warmed-up mussels-in-grits, Kya motored over to Jumpin's to see if any money'd come in from the smoked fish. In all these years it had just been him there or customers, but as she approached slowly she saw a large black woman sweeping the wharf like it was a kitchen floor. Jumpin' was sitting in his chair, leaning back against the store wall doing figures in his ledger. Seeing her, he jumped up, waved.
贻贝混合粗玉米粉加热作早餐，吃完后，基娅开船去老跳那儿，看熏鱼有没有卖点钱。这么多年，那里只有老跳或其他客人，但今天慢慢靠近时，她看到一个壮实的黑人妇女正在像扫厨房地板那样扫码头。老跳坐在椅子上，背靠店墙，对着账簿算账。看到基娅，他挥手跳起来。
“G'mornin’,” she called quietly, drifting expertly up to the dock.
“早上好。”她轻声说，熟练地靠上码头。
“Hiya, Miss Kya. Got somebody here for ya to meet. This here's ma wife, Mabel.” Mabel walked up and stood next to Jumpin', so that when Kya stepped onto the wharf, they were close.
“你好啊，基娅小姐，给你介绍一个人。这是我的妻子，玛贝尔。”玛贝尔走上前，站到老跳身边，所以，当基娅踏上码头时，她们离得很近。
Mabel reached out and took Kya's hand, held it gently in hers, and said, “It's mighty fine to meet ya, Miss Kya. Jumpin's told me what a fine girl ya are. One a' de best oryster pickers.”
玛贝尔伸出手，轻柔地握住基娅的，说：“很高兴见到你，基娅小姐。老跳告诉我你是个很好的姑娘，采集牡蛎可厉害了。”
In spite of hoeing her garden, cooking half of every day, and scrubbing and mending for whites, Mabel's hand was supple. Kya kept her fingers in that velvet glove but didn't know what to say, so stood quiet.
虽然每天都在园子里劳作，还要花半天时间做饭，给白人洗衣修补，玛贝尔的手仍然柔软。手指被包在她天鹅绒手套般的手里，基娅不知道该说些什么，只能傻站着。
“Now, Miss Kya, we got a family who'll trade clothes and other stuff ya need for yo' smoked fish.”
“基娅小姐，我们找到了一家人，愿意用衣服和其他东西跟你换熏鱼。”
Kya nodded. Smiled at her feet. Then asked, “What about gas for ma boat?”
基娅点点头，看着自己的脚微笑，问：“船上用的汽油怎么办？”
Mabel turned question eyes at Jumpin’.
玛贝尔疑惑地看向老跳。
“Well now,” he said, “I'll give ya some today 'cause I know you're short. But ya keep bringin' in mussels and such when ya can.”
“好吧，”他说，“今天我给你一点，我知道你的汽油快没了。以后继续拿贻贝和其他东西过来。”
Mabel said in her big voice, “Lawd, child, let's don't worry none about the details. Now let me look atcha. I gotta calculate yo' size to tell 'em.” She led her into the tiny shop. “Let's sit right here, and ya tell me what clothes and what-all else ya need.”
玛贝尔用她的大嗓门说：“天哪，孩子，现在咱们别担心这些细节了。让我看看你。我得算算你的尺码，好告诉他们。”她领着基娅走进小店，“坐这儿别动，告诉我你要什么衣服，还有其他所有需要的东西。”
After they discussed the list, Mabel traced Kya's feet on a piece of brown paper bag, then said, “Well, come back tomorrer and there'll be a stack here for ya.”
讨论出清单后，玛贝尔在一个棕色纸袋子上描了基娅的脚，然后说：“好了，明天再来，到时会有一堆东西给你。”
“I'm much obliged, Mabel.” Then, her voice low, said, “There's something else. I found these old packages of seeds, but I don't know about gardenin'.”
“非常感谢，玛贝尔，”她低声说，“还有点事。我找到了几袋以前的种子，但不知道怎么种。”
“Well now.” Mabel leaned back and laughed deep in her generous bosom. “I can sure do a garden.” She went over every step in great detail, then reached into some cans on the shelf and brought out squash, tomato, and pumpkin seeds. She folded each kind into some paper and drew a picture of the vegetable on the outside. Kya didn't know if Mabel did this because she couldn't write or because she knew Kya couldn't read, but it worked fine for both of them.
“好吧，”玛贝尔身体后仰，从丰满的胸部发出阵阵笑声，“我种东西很有一手。”她非常详细地解释了每一个步骤，然后从架子上的几个罐子里拿出南瓜、西红柿种子。她把每一种分别用纸包起来，在外面画上相应的蔬菜。基娅不知道她这么做是因为她自己不会写字，还是因为知道基娅不识字。不过这样对两个人都很好。
She thanked them as she stepped into her boat.
上船的时候，她向他们道谢。
“I'm glad to help ya, Miss Kya. Now come back tomorrer for yo' things,” Mabel said.
“很高兴能帮到你，基娅小姐。明天来拿你的东西。”玛贝尔说。
That very afternoon, Kya started hoeing the rows where Ma's garden used to be. The hoe made clunking sounds as it moved down the rows, releasing earthy smells and uprooting pinkish worms. Then a different clink sounded, and Kya bent to uncover one of Ma's old metal-and-plastic barrettes. She swiped it gently against her overalls until all the grit fell clear. As if reflected in the cheap artifact, Ma's red mouth and dark eyes were clearer than they'd been in years. Kya looked around; surely Ma was walking up the lane even now, come to help turn this earth. Finally home. Such stillness was rare; even the crows were quiet, and she could hear her own breathing.
那个下午，基娅开始在妈妈以前的园子里锄地。锄头在菜畦上移动，发出哐哐的声响，释放出泥土的味道，逼出了粉色的虫子。然后，基娅听到了一声“叮”。她弯下腰，发现了妈妈以前用的一个半金属半塑料的发夹。她轻轻地在工装裤上擦拭它，直到上面黏着的沙粒都掉落。好像是被倒映在这廉价的首饰上，妈妈的红唇和深色眼眸前所未有地清晰。基娅看向四周。妈妈这会儿一定走上了小径，来帮她翻土了。终于回家了。少有的寂静，连乌鸦都沉默了，基娅能听到自己的呼吸声。
Sweeping up bunches of her hair, she pinned the barrette above her left ear. Maybe Ma was never coming home. Maybe some dreams should just fade away. She lifted the hoe and clobbered a chunk of hard clay into smithereens.
她顺了顺头发，把发夹别在左耳上方。妈妈可能再也不回来了。有些梦或许该放下了。她举起锄头，把一块硬黏土敲成碎片。
WHEN KYA MOTORED up to Jumpin's wharf the next morning, he was alone. Perhaps the large form of his wife and her fine ideas had been an illusion. But there, sitting on the wharf, were two boxes of goods that Jumpin' was pointing to, a wide grin on his face.
第二天早上，基娅开船去老跳的码头。他一个人在那儿。或许，他的大块头妻子和那些好主意都只是她的幻想。但是，就在码头上，老跳指了指两大箱东西，脸上挂着大大的笑容。
“G'mornin’, Miss Kya. This here's for ya.”
“早上好，基娅小姐。这些是给你的。”
Kya jumped onto the wharf and stared at the overflowing crates.
基娅跳上码头，看着满满当当的箱子。
“Go on, then,” Jumpin' said. “It's all your'n.”
“快看看，”老跳说，“这些都是你的。”
Gently she pulled out overalls, jeans, and real blouses, not just T-shirts. A pair of navy blue lace-up Keds and some Buster Brown two-tone saddle shoes, polished brown and white so many times they glowed. Kya held up a white blouse with a lace collar and a blue satin bow at the neck. Her mouth opened a little bit.
她轻轻拿出工装裤、牛仔裤和真正的衬衫。是衬衫，不是T恤。还有一双海军蓝系带科迪斯女鞋和一些巴斯特·布朗牌双色马鞍鞋（擦了太多次鞋油以至闪闪发亮）。基娅拿起一件白衬衫，蕾丝领子，脖颈处有一个蓝色绸缎蝴蝶结。她微微张开了嘴。
The other box had matches, grits, a tub of oleo, dried beans, and a whole quart of homemade lard. On top, wrapped in newspaper, were fresh turnips and greens, rutabagas, and okra.
另一个箱子里有火柴、粗玉米粉、一桶牛油、干豆子和整整一夸脱的自制猪油。最上面还用报纸包着一些新鲜的芜菁和绿色蔬菜、甘蓝及秋葵。
“Jumpin',” she said softly, “this is more than those fish woulda cost. This could be a month's fish.”
“老跳，”她轻声说，“这些远远超过那些鱼的价值。这值一个月的鱼。”
“Well now, what'a folks gonna do with old clothes layin' 'round the house? If they got these things extra, and ya need 'em, and ya got fish, and they need fish, then that's the deal. Ya gotta take 'em now, 'cause I ain't got room for that junk 'round here.”
“好吧，这些旧衣服放在家里能干吗？如果他们有多的，你正好需要，你又有鱼，而他们需要鱼，这不就成了嘛。你现在就拿走，我这儿没地方堆这些垃圾。”
Kya knew that was true. Jumpin' had no extra space, so she'd be doing him a favor to take them off his wharf.
基娅知道这是真的。老跳这里没有多余的地方，所以把这些从码头上搬走是在帮他的忙。
“I'll take 'em, then. But you tell 'em thank you, will you? And I'll smoke more fish and bring it in soon as I can.”
“那我拿走吧。请代我向他们说句谢谢，可以吗？我会熏更多的鱼，尽快拿过来。”
“Okay then, Miss Kya. That'll be fine. Ya bring in fish when ya git 'em.”
“好的，基娅小姐，这样没问题。鱼弄好了就拿过来。”
Kya chugged back into the sea. Once she rounded the peninsula, out of sight of Jumpin's, she idled down, dug in the box, and pulled out the blouse with the lace collar. She put it on right over her scratchy bib overalls with patched knees, and tied the little satin ribbon into a bow at her neck. Then, one hand on the tiller, the other on lace, she glided across ocean and estuaries toward home.
基娅开船回到海上。过了半岛，看不见老跳了，她弯下腰，一头扎进箱子里，翻出那件蕾丝领衬衫，直接套在膝盖打着补丁的粗糙工装裤外，然后在脖子上打了一个小小的绸缎蝴蝶结。她一手扶着舵柄，一手抚着蕾丝，平稳地穿过大海和河口，向家驶去。