約翰·沃爾特斯/John Walters
I remember the way the light touched her hair.She turned her head,and our eyes met,a momentary awareness in that raucous fifth-grade classroom.I felt as though Id been struck a blow under the heart.Thus began my first love affair.
Her name was Rachel,and I mooned my way through grade and high school,stricken at the mere sight of her,tongue-tied in her presence.Does anyone,anymore,linger in the shadows of evening,drawn by the pale light of a window-her window-like some hapless summer insect?
I would catch sight of her,walking down an aisle of trees to or from school,and I’d become paralyzed.She always seemed so poised,so self-possessed.At home,I’d relive each encounter,writhing at the thought of my inadequacies.Even so,as we entered our teens,I sensed her affectionate tolerance for me.
“Going steady”implied a maturity we still lacked.Her Orthodox Jewish upbringing and my own Catholic scruples imposed a celibate grace that made even kissing a distant prospect,however fervently desired.I managed to hold her once at a dance-chaperoned,of course.Our embrace made her giggle,a sound so trusting that I hated myself for what Id been thinking.
At any rate,my love for Rachel remained unrequited.We graduated from high school,she went on to college,and I joined the Army.When World War II engulfed us,I was sent overseas.For a time we corresponded,and her letters were the highlight of those grinding,endless years.Once she sent me a snapshot of herself in a bathing suit,which drove me to the wildest of fantasies.I mentioned the possibility of marriage in my next letter,and almost immediately her replies became less frequent,less personal.
The first thing I did when I returned to the States was to call on Rachel.Her mother answered the door.Rachel no longer lived there.She had married a medical student shed met in college.“I thought she wrote you.”her mother said.
Her“Dear John”letter finally caught up with me while I was awaiting discharge.She gently explained the impossibility of a marriage between us.Looking back on it,I must have recovered rather quickly,although for the first few months I believed I didnt want to live.Like Rachel,I found someone else,whom I learned to love with a deep and permanent commitment that has lasted to this day.
Then,recently,after an interval of more than 40 years,I heard from Rachel again.Her husband had died.She was passing through town and had learned of my whereabouts through a mutual friend.We agreed to meet.
I felt both curious and excited.In the last few years,I hadnt thought about her,and her sudden call one morning had taken me aback.The actual sight of her was a shock.This white-haired matron at the restaurant table was the Rachel of my dreams and desires,the supple mermaid of that snapshot?
Yet time had given us a common reference and respect.We talked as old friends,and quickly discovered we were both grandparents.
“Do you remember this?”She handed me a slip of worn paper.It was a poem Id written her while still in school.I examined the crude meter and pallid rhymes.Watching my face,she snatched the poem from me and returned it to her purse,as though fearful I was going to destroy it.
I told her about the snapshot,how Id carried it all through the war.
“It wouldnt have worked out,you know.”she said.
“How can you be sure?”I countered.“Ah,colleen,it might have been grand indeed-my Irish conscience and your Jewish guilt!”
Our laughter startled people at a nearby table.During the time left to us,our glances were furtive,oblique.I think that what we saw in each other repudiated what wed once been to ourselves,we immortals.
Before I put her into a taxi,she turned to me.“I just wanted to see you once more.To tell you something.”Her eyes met mine.“I wanted to thank you for having loved me as you did.”We kissed,and she left.
From a store window my reflection stared back at me,an aging man,with gray hair stirred by an evening breeze.I decided to walk home.Her kiss still burned on my lips.I felt faint,and sat on a park bench.All around me the grass and trees were shining in the surreal glow of sunset.Something was being lifted out of me.Something had been completed,and the scene before me was so beautiful that I wanted to shout and dance and sing for joy.
That soon passed,as everything must,and presently I was able to stand and start for home.
我記得，當時的陽光灑落在她的發絲上。她轉過頭，我們四目相對，在那間吵鬧的五年級教室裏，我感覺到了一些東西，覺得心底遭到了一擊。我的初戀就此開始了。
她叫雷切爾，我從小學到中學一直很迷戀她，看到她，我的心就怦怦地跳，有她在時，我說話就有些結巴。我就像夏日裏一隻不幸的小昆蟲，被一扇窗前微弱的燈光吸引，在黑暗的夜晚徘徊在她的窗前。
當看到她上學或是放學回家，走在林蔭小路上時，我整個人就呆住了，她看起來總是那麽鎮定自若。在家時，我回想著與她的每一次邂逅，一想到自己的不足之處便心生懊惱。即便如此，當我們正值青春年少時，我仍然感受到她對我深情的寬容。
我們還不夠成熟，根本不可能發展穩定的戀愛關係。她自幼受正統猶太教的家庭熏陶，而我因信奉天主教心存顧忌，這使我們表現得清心寡欲，有如謙謙君子，就連親吻都遙不可及，無論這種渴望是多麽強烈。在一場舞會上，我設法擁抱了她一下——當然，有大人在場。我們的擁抱讓她咯咯地笑了起來，她那純潔幹脆的笑聲讓我痛恨自己所想的一切。
總而言之，我對雷切爾的愛一直是單戀。中學畢業後，她考上了大學，我參了軍。第二次世界大戰爆發後，我被派到海外。有一段時間，我們保持著聯係，她的來信成為那些難熬的漫長歲月中的一抹亮色。有一次，她給我寄了一張她的泳裝照，我浮想聯翩，在回信裏提到是否可能結婚。她的回信幾乎立即少了，也很少提及個人的事情。
我回國後做的第一件事就是去找雷切爾。她母親開了門，說雷切爾已經不住在這裏了，她與在大學裏認識的一個醫學院的學生結了婚。“我還以為她寫信通知你了。”她的母親說。
我最終在等待複員時收到了她的“親愛的約翰”一信。她委婉地解釋了不能和我結婚的原因。回首過去，我真的恢複得很快，盡管在開始的幾個月裏，我認為自己活不下去了。就像雷切爾一樣，我找到了另一個人，我學會用一種深情和永恒的責任感去愛她，而這種責任感一直延續到現在。
可是，最近，在相隔40餘年之後，我接到了雷切爾打來的電話，她的丈夫過世了。她經過我所在的城鎮，通過我們都認識的一個朋友打聽到了我的住址，我們相約見麵。
我感到好奇而興奮，在過去的幾年裏，我沒有掛念過她，她突然在一個早晨給我打了電話，這讓我很驚訝。見到她時，我又感到很震驚，這位坐在餐桌前，頭發花白的女人就是我夢寐以求的雷切爾嗎？就是那個照片上體態輕盈的美人魚嗎？
因為很久不見，我們互相寒暄，談了共同關心的話題。我們就像老朋友那樣聊天，很快發現我們都已經是祖父母了。
“你還記得這個嗎？”她遞給我一張破舊的紙條，那是我在學校時為她寫的一首詩。我仔細看了這首格律粗糙、韻律蒼白的詩。她望著我的臉，從我的手裏把紙搶走，並裝進了包裏，好像很怕我會毀掉它。
我告訴她有關相片的事，告訴她我是如何帶著它度過了整個戰爭。
“我們不可能在一起，這你是知道的。”她說。
“你為何如此確定？”我反問她，“哦，姑娘，我的愛爾蘭道德感和你猶太人的責任心，那一定非常完美！”
我們的笑聲驚動了旁邊的人，在餘下的時間裏，我們都隻是偷偷地看著對方。我想，我們從對方身上看到我們一直保留在心中的形象破滅了。
在我送她上出租車之前，她轉向我，說：“我隻是想再看你一眼，告訴你一些事情。”她的雙眼凝視著我，“我想謝謝你曾經那麽愛我。”我們吻了一下，她離開了。
我在商店的櫥窗裏看見了自己：灰白的頭發在晚風中拂動。我決定步行回家，她的吻還在我的唇上燃燒，我感到有點兒暈，於是坐在公園的一張長凳上。在我身旁，花草樹木正在夕陽的照耀下熠熠發光，壓在我心上的某個東西消失了，某件事情圓滿了。我眼前的景象是如此之美，我快樂得想要叫喊，想要唱歌跳舞。
如同一切事物一樣，這一切很快就過去了，不一會兒，我起身回家了。
心靈小語
初戀通常是美好的，可是本文主人公的初戀則有些讓人無奈，也有些讓人惋惜。時光荏苒，當年的愛如今已經成為一種深深的情誼。在深深的臨別親吻中，蘊含的是祝福與欣慰。初戀時的那份情讓我們永藏於心，偶爾回味起來，也是一份感動。
詞匯筆記
momentary[m?um?nt?ri]adj.瞬間的；短暫的；隨時會發生的
Concentrated into the momentary eternity,or the eternal moment.
濃縮於瞬間的永恒，抑或永恒的瞬間。
tongue-tied[t??taid]adj.結結巴巴的；發音不清的；緘默的
Whenever he talks in front of an audience,he got tongue-tied.
一麵對觀眾講話，他就結結巴巴的。
self-possessed[’selfp?’zest]adj.鎮靜的；冷靜的；有自製力的
She was a little diffident,but quite self-possessed.
她有點兒信心不足，但很鎮靜。
unrequited[,?nrikwaitid]adj.無回報的；無報酬的
Unrequited loves,also is one kind of sickness.
單方麵的愛，也是一種疾病。
小試身手
有一段時間，我們保持著聯係，她的來信成為那些難熬的漫長歲月中的一抹亮色。
我想，我們從對方身上看到我們一直保留在心中的形象破滅了。
在我身旁，花草樹木正在夕陽的照耀下熠熠發光。
短語家族
At any rate,my love for Rachel remained unrequited.
at any rate：無論如何；至少
……I returned to the States was to call on Rachel.
call on：訪問；拜訪