Many moons ago, my beloved husband, Miguel Herrera—have you heard of him?—gave an earthshaking performance in an event space in the East Village, Henderson Square (actually our friend Hattie Henderson’s studio apartment), that completely changed our lives. It was on a warm spring evening, impossibly verdant considering the urban grit, or maybe it was just youth (mine) aromatizing the air. But there was an anticipatory excitement I felt a lot back then, in my fingertips and in my belly, as I walked up St. Marks to the theater, my senses heightened. I could smell the dirt at the base of the scraggly sidewalk trees, the animal and human urine perfuming their roots, and the peppery green of their unfurling leaves. Even the weed the punks from Scarsdale were smoking as they camped outside Hattie’s building was nothing like the skunky stuff we have now. It was the scent of “something coming,” like those old Sondheim lyrics from West Side Story, so stimulating that I almost couldn’t bear it. What can I say? I was 22, finally free of my parents, madly in love, and ready to eat the world.
许多卫星前，我心爱的丈夫米格尔·埃雷拉（Miguel Herrera） - 您听说过他吗？那是在一个温暖的春天的夜晚，考虑到城市砂砾，或者只是年轻人（我的）空气的青春。但是，当时我的指尖和肚子里，当我向剧院走到剧院时，我感到非常兴奋。我可以闻到泥泞的人行道树的底部，动物和人类尿液的根源，以及它们的胡椒叶绿色。当他们从哈蒂（Hattie）的建筑物外露营时，从斯卡斯代尔（Scarsdale）那里朋克的杂草也在吸烟。这是“即将来临”的气味，就像西侧故事中的那些古老的Sondheim歌词一样，如此刺激，以至于我几乎无法忍受。我能说什么？我22岁，终于没有父母，疯狂地恋爱了，准备吃世界。
Hattie lived on the top floor of a five-story walk-up. I’d gotten off late from work and was rushing, so I took the stairs two steps at a time in my Doc Martens and a chiffon thrift-shop dress so flowy, I carried a cloud of the stoners’ exhales with me as I climbed. When I arrived at the open door, I was breathless and already a little high. The room was full. I could see the stage over the heads of the people sitting on the floor and on folding chairs, and through a crowd of standing-room-onlys. I would end up watching the whole event perched in an open window frame at the back of the room next to the fire escape, half in, half out, but I didn’t care. I could smoke cigarettes there, and I was delighted that Miguel and his crew had such a good audience. In that moment, maybe for the first and last time in my life, I knew I was exactly where I should be: on the top floor of a tenement near Avenue A, in this magical little bird’s nest of creativity, married to a brilliant, handsome man who was crazy about me.
哈蒂（Hattie）住在五层楼的步行楼的顶层。我下班迟到了，急忙，所以我一次在Doc Martens和Chiffon旧货店的连衣裙上沿着楼梯走了两步，所以我随身携带了一片石头的呼气。当我到达敞开的门时，我喘不过气来，已经有点高了。房间里满了。我可以看到坐在地板上，折叠椅上的人的头顶上的舞台，穿过一群站立室的人。我最终会看着整个活动栖息在房间后面的一个敞开的窗框中，距离火灾逃生，一半，一半，但我不在乎。我可以在那里抽烟，我很高兴Miguel和他的工作人员有很多观众。在那一刻，也许是我一生中的第一次也是最后一次，我知道我正是我应该去的地方：在A大街附近的一个物业单位的顶层，在这种神奇的小鸟的创造力巢中，嫁给了一个聪明，英俊的男人，他对我疯狂。
I still believe all this to be true.
我仍然相信这一切都是真实的。
In those days, Hattie slept on an ad hoc Murphy bed, just a metal frame with springs that she’d rigged herself. Whenever she crammed folks into her teeny place, she folded it up against a wall with the help of shower-curtain hooks and rods, concealing the bulge of the mattress with blue-and-white tablecloths she’d found at Azuma, a Japanese schlock shop on Eighth Street next door to Brentano’s, where I was employed as a bookseller. Otherwise, there was just a low rust-colored corduroy sofa that Miguel and I had helped her lug from where he’d spotted it on Avenue B, near the park, plus some overstuffed pillows strewn across the linoleum floor.
在那些日子里，哈蒂睡在一张临时的墨菲床上，这只是一个金属框架，上面有弹簧，她索着自己。每当她将人们塞入自己的小地方时，她都会借助淋浴间的钩子和杆将其折叠在墙上，并用她在Brentano隔壁的八街上的日本Schlock商店Azuma发现的蓝色和白色桌布掩盖了床垫的凸起，我在Brentano的第八街，在Brentano's of Bookellerers obs Booksellerererselleselleselles中。否则，只有一个低锈色的灯芯绒沙发，我和米格尔（Miguel）和我从公园附近的B大道上发现了它的凸耳，再加上一些铺满了油毡地板的枕头。
On non–performance nights, when we brought Stromboli’s pizzas upstairs in cardboard boxes, we were a family: the three of us with our similar-sounding last names—I’d taken Miguel’s at the City Clerk’s Office in Lower Manhattan, no way was I holding on to Lipschutz—and completely different origin stories. Usually, we were joined by whomever Hattie was dating at the time: boys, girls, it didn’t matter, it was “the person” that counted to Hattie. We’d spread a big beach towel out on her floor like a picnic table, drink Bolla Soave out of Dixie cups, and eat hard, sandy Italian cookies from Veniero’s bakery, my favorites bejeweled by maraschino cherries.
在非绩效的夜晚，当我们在纸板箱上带着斯特朗博利的比萨饼在楼上的披萨中，我们是一个家庭：我们三个人的姓氏相似，我曾在曼哈顿下城的城市店员办公室里带着相似的姓氏，我没办法，我一直抓住Lipschutz，完全不同。通常，哈蒂（Hattie）当时约会的人加入了我们：男孩，女孩，没关系，这是“人”，这是哈蒂（Hattie）。我们会像野餐桌子一样在她的地板上散布一条大沙滩毛巾，从Dixie杯子中喝了Bolla，并从Veniero的面包店吃了坚硬的沙质意大利饼干，这是Maraschino Cherries所吸引的我的最爱。
On performance nights like this one, she arranged the various forms of seating in a tight semicircle around “the stage,” an empty white box of nothingness otherwise known as Hattie’s kitchen. In a corner of the room was her ancient refrigerator, which tended to buzz at precisely the wrong time, a sink, a little wooden bar cart that housed her coffee maker, a toaster oven, and a hot plate. Sometimes, Hattie invited poets to read. Occasionally, playwrights like me used the room to workshop stuff.
在像这样的表演之夜，她在“舞台”周围安排了各种形式的座位，一个空的白色盒子虚无，否则称为Hattie的厨房。在房间的一个角落里是她的古老冰箱，它往往在错误的时间嗡嗡作响，一个水槽，一个小木吧手推车，上面装有咖啡壶，烤面包机和热盘子。有时，哈蒂邀请诗人阅读。有时，像我这样的剧作家会用房间来工作坊。
Already, as I settled into my window seat, the spritely, generous Hattie was starting the evening as she always did: with a little song she’d written, and which she played on her ukulele. Hattie had no real talent to speak of, beyond the curatorial—which I now know is everything. I didn’t realize what a petri dish “the Square” was until a bunch of us just kept on working after getting our start there, and a few folks became famous. Then she introduced the show. For months, Miguel and his best friend from boyhood, Angel, both Dominicans from Washington Heights, had been working on a same-sex performance of an abridged version of Sam Shepard’s masterful new play, Fool for Love. An actor friend had snuck them a script, and in their buoyant and budding hubris, they’d futzed around with it, with an eye toward giving Angel, openly gay, a role to shine in. The show had by this time premiered in San Francisco, and Shepard had already won a Pulitzer for something else, but that didn’t stop these two from having their fun. Shepard’s play was about a pair of lovers, Eddie and May, who find out well into their romance—which began as teenagers—that they have the same biological father. Hearing this news, Eddie’s mother kills herself, and the kids break up. Years later, Eddie, still heartbroken, tracks May down to a motel room on the edge of the Mojave Desert to win her back.
当我坐在靠窗的座位上时，精灵，慷慨的哈蒂（Hattie）像往常一样开始了一个晚上：她写了一首小歌，她在夏威夷四弦琴上播放了一首歌。除了策展人之外，哈蒂没有真正的才能可以谈论 - 我现在知道这就是一切。我没有意识到，直到我们中的一群人开始在那里开始工作，还有几个人闻名，我才意识到培养皿的“广场”是什么。然后她介绍了节目。几个月来，米格尔（Miguel）和他从少年时代的最好的朋友，来自华盛顿高地的多米尼加人安吉尔（Angel）一直在研究萨姆·谢泼德（Sam Shepard）精湛的新剧《愚人爱情》（Fool for Love）的删节版本的同性表演。一个演员的朋友把他们抓到了一个剧本，在他们浮出水和崭露头角的傲慢下，他们却陷入了困境，着眼于奉献给天使，公开同性恋，这是一个闪耀的角色。到了旧金山，这次演出在旧金山首映，而谢帕德已经赢得了其他奖励，但没有阻止这些奖励，但这两者没有得到他们的乐趣。谢泼德（Shepard）的戏剧是关于一对恋人，埃迪（Eddie）和梅（May），他们在浪漫史（从青少年时代开始）就知道了，他们有同一个亲生父亲。听到这个消息，埃迪的母亲自杀了，孩子们分手了。多年后，埃迪（Eddie）仍然伤心欲绝，轨道可能会到莫哈韦沙漠（Mojave Desert）边缘的一间汽车旅馆房间，以赢得她的胜利。
The lights dimmed, and three men entered the stage from the greenroom of Hattie’s loo. My Miguel, in his best James Dean white T-shirt and a borrowed motorcycle jacket, was the tortured Eddie. The Murphy bed was open and neatly made. That and two of the folding chairs were the lone props. Angel, dressed like a carhop on roller skates (a nod to Shepard’s earlier The Tooth of Crime), wore white leather rhinestone shorts and a white mesh top. He was May, although they had changed his name to Max, and he executed a series of graceful figure eights before rolling to the kitchen sink to begin washing dishes. In Shepard’s original script, the father was identified only as “the Old Man,” and this evening, he was played by an older Brit—by which I mean older than us, nearing 30—who was also the director. This guy, a “total fox,” as we used to say, with teal-colored eyes and long, long legs, sat to the side of the stage in one of the folding chairs, wearing worn denim overalls, a plaid flannel shirt, and a fishing hat (as if that touch of Americana might cancel out his accent). As per the text, he commented throughout the play.
灯光变暗，三个人从哈蒂的厕所的绿室进入舞台。我的米格尔（Miguel）穿着他最好的詹姆斯·迪恩（James Dean White T恤）和一件借来的摩托车外套，是折磨的埃迪（Eddie）。墨菲床开放，整齐地制作。那把两把折叠椅是孤独的道具。天使穿着溜冰鞋上的卡霍普（Shepard's the The The The The The The With of Crime），穿着白色的皮革水钻短裤和白色的网眼上衣。他是五月，尽管他们将自己的名字更改为Max，但他在滚动到厨房水槽开始洗碗之前执行了一系列优美的身材。在Shepard的原始剧本中，父亲只被确定为“老人”，今天晚上，他是由一个年龄较大的英国人扮演的，我的意思是比我们大，临近30岁，他也是导演。正如我们曾经说过的那样，这个家伙，一只“总狐狸”，戴着蓝色的眼睛和长长的腿，坐在其中一张折叠椅的一侧，戴着磨损的牛仔布工作服，一件格子绒布衬衫和钓鱼帽（好像美洲的触摸可能会取消他的口音）。根据文本，他在整个剧中发表了评论。
But it was Miguel who had the kickoff, laying out Eddie and Max’s history: It was like we knew each other from somewhere but we couldn’t place where. But the second we saw each other, that very second, we knew we’d never stop being in love.
但是，是米格尔（Miguel）开球，布置了埃迪（Eddie）和麦克斯（Max）的历史：就像我们从某个地方彼此认识，但我们无法放置。但是第二秒，我们彼此见面，第二，我们知道我们永远不会停止恋爱。
It’s not like I was an idiot or Miguel was a liar. Au contraire. We told each other everything! We were soulmates. And we were fools.
这并不是我是个白痴，或者Miguel是骗子。au反对。我们互相告诉一切！我们是灵魂伴侣。我们是傻瓜。
He was talking about Angel’s character but looking directly at me, giving a little wink. I winked back; he did this once a show. Always. It was our “thing,” because the first time we’d laid eyes on each other on the train, back in high school, he’d leaned across the subway car and said, “What fucks like a tiger and winks?” and then blinked both his eyes silly. We’d laughed back then, and even now, six years later, it still undid me.
他在谈论天使的性格，但直接看着我，有点眨眼。我眨了眨眼；他曾经做过一次演出。总是。那是我们的“事物”，因为我们第一次互相盯着火车上，回到高中时，他靠在地铁上，说：“什么像老虎和眨眨眼？”然后眨了眨眼。那时我们笑了，即使是六年后，它仍然使我失望。
Then Miguel strode onto center stage, just as Angel turned away from the sink to dry his hands on a paper towel. The look on Angel/Max’s face when he saw Miguel/Eddie in his home!
然后，米格尔大步走到中心舞台上，就像天使从水槽里转身在纸巾上干燥双手一样。当Angel/Max在家里看到Miguel/Eddie时，他的脸上的表情！
Miguel said: He’s just standing there, staring at me and I’m staring back at him and we can’t take our eyes off each other.
米格尔说：他正站在那儿，盯着我，我盯着他，我们不能互相视线。
Then Miguel moved toward poor Angel. I came to see if you were all right, he said.
然后，米格尔（Miguel）朝着可怜的天使走去。他说，我来看看你是否没事。
I don’t need you! Angel cried out.
我不需要你！天使大喊。
Okay, Miguel said. Fine, and he started to walk away.
好吧，米格尔说。很好，他开始走开。
Angel, in agony, screamed: DON’T GO!
天使，痛苦，尖叫：不要走！
With that, they rushed into each other’s arms. In victory, Miguel actually appeared to levitate off the ground. And there it was, the anguish and joy that genuine passion created, the to-ing and fro-ing, the losing and winning—at this point in my life, I don’t know if I’d wish it on anyone, but back then, there was no denying the jealousy and exhilaration we in the audience felt while witnessing their A-Train-coming-at-you brand of forbidden love. Who wouldn’t want a piece of that sexy, hot, rapturous action if they could have it, even momentarily, no matter what the cost? They were so goddamned alive in each other’s arms!
这样，他们冲进了彼此的怀抱。在胜利中，米格尔实际上似乎是为了悬浮在地面上。真正的激情创造了真正的痛苦和喜悦，陷入困境和失败和胜利 - 在我一生中的这一点上，我不知道我是否希望对任何人都希望，但是那时候，我们在观众中毫无否认，我们在观众中看到了他们在观众中看到了他们的狂热的爱情，这是我的嫉妒和兴奋。如果他们能做到什么，那么谁也不希望他们能做出那种性感，狂热，狂热的动作，无论费用是多少？他们在彼此的怀里被活着！
That’s what I adore about the theater. It tells a truth that can’t be conveyed in an article or an essay or even a Dear John letter. It’s not like I was an idiot or Miguel was a liar. Au contraire. We told each other everything! We were soulmates. And we were fools. But what I saw on that stage in Hattie’s apartment was two boys desperately in love, so ready to fuck there and then, I could literally picture it in my mind’s eye.
这就是我对剧院的崇拜。它讲述了一个真相，该真相无法在文章，文章甚至亲爱的约翰的字母中传达。这并不是我是个白痴，或者Miguel是骗子。au反对。我们互相告诉一切！我们是灵魂伴侣。我们是傻瓜。但是我在哈蒂（Hattie）公寓的那个舞台上看到的是两个男孩拼命地恋爱，所以准备在那里他妈的，然后我可以在我的脑海中想象它。
I was crying when Hattie hit the light switch at the close of the show (the Square had no curtains), and clapping thundered throughout the apartment, the iridescent bubble that I’d blown around my life punctured and now impossible to reconstruct. Before it was revealed to me through live theater, our marriage arrangement had somehow felt negligible, even deniable, something theoretical and insubstantial that I could brush aside. Never in my whole life have I ever understood anything that was not presented to me on a silver platter of narrative. You could put a message on a billboard on Broadway, up in lights, but it wouldn’t sink in unless I arrived at it through the transformative journey of a well-enacted story.
当哈蒂（Hattie）在节目结束时（广场没有窗帘）撞到灯光开关时，我在哭泣，在整个公寓中雷声雷声，我在生活中吹来的虹彩泡沫被刺穿了，现在无法重建。在通过现场戏剧向我展示它之前，我们的婚姻安排某种程度上感觉可以忽略，甚至可以否认，这是我可以抛在一边的理论和毫无疑问的东西。我一生中从来没有理解过任何没有在叙事的银牌上呈现给我的任何东西。您可以在百老汇的广告牌上放一条消息，在灯光下，但是除非我通过一个精心制作的故事的变革性旅程到达，否则它不会沉入。
I was crying, but also I felt nauseated. I thought, I must be getting my period—maybe I’m just feeling hormonal? Disavowal and acceptance were paradoxically my drugs of choice—until they weren’t. When Hattie turned the lights back up again, I made a beeline for the restroom as all three performers, now receiving a standing O, were taking their well-earned bows. I had to push through the crowd and cut across a corner of the stage to get there.
我在哭，但我也感到恶心。我以为，我一定会得到我的月经 - 也许我只是感觉到荷尔蒙吗？拒绝和接受是我选择的药物矛盾的 - 直到它们不是。当Hattie再次将灯光转回去时，我为洗手间做了一条直线，因为所有三个表演者（现在都有站立O）都在拿着良好的弓箭。我不得不穿过人群，越过舞台的角落才能到达那里。
Hattie’s bathroom. It was the same water closet that the actors had stepped away from or, in Angel’s case, rolled out of just 90 minutes earlier. I opened the door, turned on the light, and closed it behind me. Hattie’s toothbrush and toothpaste sat in a little plastic cup on the dated olive-green enamel sink. I swiped a tampon from the box I knew she kept in the medicine chest. After I inserted it, flushed the paper applicator, and began to wash my hands and tearstained face, I looked hard at myself in that oxidizing mirror: I was pretty in a way most girls are for a time when they are young. I had a mild eating disorder, which was looking good on me. Ellen Stewart at La MaMa had agreed just the week before to produce my newest one-act. What was I whining about? My husband and I were made for each other. We snuck into Broadway plays during intermission and, back in the day, had danced together at Hurrah, listened to music at Max’s Kansas City, played pool in the neighborhood bars, stayed up all night talking about the sun, moon, and stars. Most important, he read every single page I ever wrote and improved them almost all of the time. I’d never felt that understood or supported by anyone else in my entire life. So what, he liked to sleep with men?
哈蒂的浴室。这是演员们从仅90分钟前就离开或从天使的情况下退出的同一壁橱。我打开门，打开灯，然后把它关在我身后。Hattie的牙刷和牙膏坐在一个过时的橄榄绿色搪瓷水槽上的小塑料杯中。我从盒子里擦了一个卫生棉条，我知道她一直放在药箱里。插入它后，冲洗了纸涂抹器，开始洗手并撕裂脸部，我用那种氧化的镜子看着自己：大多数女孩都在年轻的时候就很漂亮。我患有温和的饮食失调，对我来说很好。拉玛玛（La Mama）的艾伦·斯图尔特（Ellen Stewart）就在一周前就同意制作我最新的单幕。我在抱怨什么？我和我丈夫互相造就了。我们在中场休息期间偷偷进入百老汇的戏剧，回到当天，在Hurray一起跳舞，在Max的堪萨斯城听音乐，在附近的酒吧里玩游泳池，整夜熬夜谈论太阳，月亮和星星。最重要的是，他阅读了我写过的每一页，几乎所有时间都将它们改进。我从来没有觉得这一生中其他任何人都受到理解或支持。那么，他喜欢和男人一起睡觉？
I did too.
我也做了。
This had all been discussed and understood between us since the 12th grade. I, also, could have sex with whomever I chose, although he didn’t like it when I did, and I didn’t want to—and anyway, Miguel and I were still lovers, he was enough for me, he knew how to get me off, and he did it willingly and, I’d thought at the time, with some pleasure (although he preferred me on my stomach). He just did other things with other people once in a while because I wasn’t enough for him. No one’s fault but God’s, whom Miguel believed in; he was Catholic, and that is why we married. (I was a secular Jew from Stuyvesant Town whose parents thought I’d lost my mind. They were still hoping I’d get back together with my sixth-grade boyfriend, David Hershleder, who’d gone from Bronx Science straight to Cornell University and was headed in the fall to Mount Sinai medical school. Hershleder was the ideal son-in-law!)
自12年级以来，这一切都已在我们之间进行了讨论和理解。我也可以与我选择的任何人发生性关系，尽管当我这样做的时候他不喜欢它，而且我不想 - 而且无论如何，米格尔和我仍然是恋人，他对我来说足够了，他知道如何让我离开，他愿意做到这一点，当时我想，我想得到很开心（尽管他喜欢我胃部）。他只是偶尔与其他人做其他事情，因为我对他不够。没有人的错，但是米格尔相信的上帝。他是天主教徒，这就是我们结婚的原因。（我是一个来自斯图瓦特镇的世俗犹太人，父母以为我失去了理智。他们仍然希望我能与我的六年级男友戴维·赫什德勒（David Hershleder）回来，他从布朗克斯科学直接去了康奈尔大学，并在秋季秋季前往西奈山。
Looking in the mirror, I’d almost convinced myself that all this was true—easy, because it was—and that it was also sustainable (I can feel you rolling your eyes), and, while I was practicing the art of self-deception, that I, too, like Sam Shepard, would win a Pulitzer if I finally wrote a play with three full acts, when the British director barged into the bathroom without knocking.
看着镜子，我几乎说服自己，这一切都是真实的，因为它是如此，因为它也是可持续的（我可以感觉到你翻了个白眼），而当我练习自我欺骗的艺术时，我也像山姆·谢泼德一样，如果我最终与三个完整的表演一起打了三个浴室，我也会像山姆·谢泼德一样赢得一个普利策。
“Sorry, but I really need to wee,” he said.
他说：“对不起，但我真的需要哭泣。”
“Don’t let me stop you,” I said.
“不要让我阻止你，”我说。
He reached into the fly of his overalls, whipped it out, and aimed straight into the toilet. “I was practically swimming out there.”
他伸进工作服，将其鞭打，直接瞄准厕所。“我几乎在那里游泳。”
He’d played the nasty Old Man kind of stiffly, I thought, but then again, he wasn’t supposed to be an actor. He was the director, the director who’d coaxed that magnificent performance out of my Miguel. In 30 more awkward seconds, I learned that his name was Walker, and after he buttoned up and politely washed his hands, he shook mine and introduced himself.
我想，他曾经扮演过讨厌的老人，但话又说回来，他不应该是演员。他是导演，导演，他从我的米格尔（Miguel）中哄骗了出色的表现。在30秒的尴尬几秒钟内，我得知他的名字叫沃克（Walker），在他扣上并礼貌地洗手后，他摇了摇我的手并自我介绍。
“Anna,” I said.
“安娜，”我说。
Then I turned the bathroom knob, and we exited together. Miguel and Angel were grinning maniacs standing in the middle of the set with their arms around each other’s shoulders, like ballplayers after a winning game surrounded by a circle of glowing fans. Miguel was on his tippy-toes, telescoping his neck (shortness being his single physical imperfection), clearly searching the room.
然后我转动浴室旋钮，我们一起退出。米格尔（Miguel）和安吉尔（Angel）笑着笑着站在场景的中间，双臂围绕着彼此的肩膀，例如在一场赢得一群圆圈的球迷包围之后，击球手。米格尔（Miguel）在他的脚趾上，伸缩了他的脖子（短暂的是他的唯一身体缺陷），清楚地搜寻了房间。
“Anna,” he shouted, waving me over and giving Walker the stink eye. “Where have you been? What were you two doing in there? Not coke, I hope, without me.”
“安娜，”他大喊，挥舞着我，给沃克臭了。“你去过哪里？你们两个在那里做什么？我希望没有我的可乐。”
What choice did I have then but to run to him? It was my job as his wife, his muse! He let go of Angel and swung me around in the air in a little circle, the skirt of my dress billowing, like everything about us, dramatically.
那时我有什么选择，但是要跑到他身边？这是我作为妻子的工作，他的缪斯女神！他放开天使，在一个小圈子里挥舞着我，就像我们的一切一样，我的衣服的裙子滚滚而来。
“What did you think, mi amor?” he asked.
“你怎么想，米阿莫？”他问。
“You were so amazing!” I said.
“你真是太神奇了！”我说。
“You liked it?” he whispered in my hair. “It was all for you. For us.” And then he smiled. “And a little bit for Angel.”
“你喜欢吗？”他在我的头发上小声说。“这一切都适合你。对我们来说。”然后他笑了。“还有一点天使。”
“I did, I did,” I said, while he pulled back and held me at arm’s length to see if I was telling the truth. My opinion was of the utmost importance to him. “You were great. He was good. But you were truly spectacular.”
“我做到了，我做到了。”当他向后拉，伸出脚步，看看我是否在说实话。我的看法对他来说至关重要。“你很棒。他很好。但是你真的很壮观。”
“I love you so much,” he said. “Every day I ask God, ‘How did I get this lucky?’”
“我非常爱你，”他说。“我每天问上帝，‘我是怎么得到这个幸运的？’”
“I love you too,” I said.
“我也爱你，”我说。
Then he put one crazy macho arm possessively around my shoulders. I could smell his underarm when he reached over behind my head, his Old Spice, and the musk of him, like when he ran, or when we had sex; he was painted in sweat from the performance. “I see you’ve met my wife,” he said to Walker.
然后，他在我的肩膀上占有疯狂的男子气概。当他伸手在我的头后面，他的老香料和他的麝香时，我可以闻到他的腋下味，就像他跑步或我们发生性关系时。表演中的他被汗水粉刷。“我看到你遇到了我的妻子，”他对沃克说。
“Anna?” said Walker, his eyebrows shooting up in cartoonish surprise.
“安娜？”沃克说，他的眉毛在卡通般的惊喜中射出。
Just then, Hattie’s refrigerator loudly buzzed like a timer on a game show. Everyone turned to look at it, and then everyone turned back to look at Walker.
就在这时，Hattie的冰箱在游戏节目中像计时器一样大声嗡嗡作响。每个人都转身看着它，然后每个人都转身看沃克。
“Well, I guess I have met your wife,” Walker said, regaining his footing.
“好吧，我想我遇到了你的妻子，”沃克恢复了立足点。
“What were the two of you doing together in the bathroom?” Miguel asked again. Suddenly, we were back at the basketball courts in Fort Tryon Park, surrounded by the Bichos, his tough-guy crew from high school. It was another thing I loved about him—how easily he got territorial and possessive.
“你们两个在浴室里在一起做什么？”米格尔再次问。突然，我们回到了特罗翁堡公园堡的篮球场，被他的高中训练的船员包围着。这是我爱他的另一件事 - 他很容易获得领土和占有欲。
“I really had to go,” said Walker, shrugging. “I didn’t realize someone was already in there.”
“我真的必须走，”沃克耸耸肩。“我没有意识到有人已经在那里。”
“We met-cute,” I said, hoping to sound flip.
“我们遇见了，”我希望听起来可以翻转。
There was a fizzy little blonde in a polka-dot mini and one of those fuzzy sweaters standing impatiently next to Angel. “Anna, this is Jeannie Elbazz,” Miguel introduced us.
圆点迷你岛上有一个嘶哑的小金发，其中一件模糊的毛衣在安吉尔旁边不耐烦。“安娜，这是珍妮·埃尔巴兹（Jeannie Elbazz），”米格尔（Miguel）介绍了我们。
“She’s an agent. She reps Jake Kaminsky.”
“她是一个经纪人。她代表杰克·卡明斯基（Jake Kaminsky）。”
I knew the name. Jeannie’s. Jake’s too. He’d been in all those Oliver Stone movies. Clearly, so did Walker.
我知道这个名字。珍妮的。杰克也是。他都参加了所有那些奥利弗·斯通（Oliver Stone）的电影。显然，沃克也是如此。
He stuck out his hand. “Walker Cogdill,” he said.
他伸出手。“沃克·科格迪尔，”他说。
“Nice job directing,” said Jeannie, meaningfully. I guessed she didn’t think much of his acting ability either. Then she turned to me. “Do you mind if I borrow your hubby for the rest of the evening? I’ve been invited to a little industry party, and there are some people I’d like for him to meet.”
“指导的工作不错，”珍妮有意义地说。我猜她也不认为他的表演能力太多。然后她转向我。“您是否介意我在晚上余下的时间里借您的丈夫？
Walker and Angel released a collective sigh of defeat.
沃克和天使发出了失败的集体叹息。
I’m not sure anyone else, be they parent or lover or friend, has ever been as attentive to my feelings as he was.
我不确定其他任何人，无论是父母，情人还是朋友，都像他那样对我的感情如此关注。
“No, I don’t mind,” I said, in wifely mode. “Walker and Angel and I were planning on getting dinner anyway.” Why on earth did I say that? That’s the last thing I wanted. I wanted to go home. Kiss my Siamese cat, Buster. Put on Joni Mitchell. Cry my eyes out in the shower. Smoke a joint and call Hattie and talk to her until either Miguel arrived or we both fell asleep on the phone.
“不，我不介意。”我以妻子模式说。“无论如何，沃克和天使和我打算吃晚饭。”我为什么这么说？那是我想要的最后一件事。我想回家。亲吻我的暹罗猫，克星。穿上乔尼·米切尔（Joni Mitchell）。在淋浴时哭泣。抽烟并打电话给哈蒂，然后与她交谈，直到Miguel到达，或者我们俩都在电话里睡着了。
“Lo siento, querida,” Angel said to me. “I’m going dancing with the fairies.” He pointed to his posse waiting patiently in the corner. One of them was his official boyfriend, Bobby. He was the first to get sick, although he lived long enough to go on AZT.
“ Lo Siento，Querida，” Angel对我说。“我要和仙女一起跳舞。”他指着耐心地在角落里等待的姿势。其中一个是他的官方男友鲍比（Bobby）。尽管他活了足够长的时间，他是第一个生病的人。
“I’d be happy to dine with you,” said Walker.
沃克说：“我很乐意和你一起用餐。”
Jeannie was already glancing with impatience at her watch.
珍妮已经在她的手表上瞥了一眼。
Miguel looked at me searchingly with his big, dark eyes.
米格尔用他的大黑眼睛搜寻着我。
He was sweet that way. He wanted to make sure I was okay. The cynical among you may accuse me of looking back through the rosy gold of a nostalgic haze, but I’m not sure anyone else, be they parent or lover or friend, has ever been as attentive to my feelings as he was.
那样他真好。他想确保我还好。你们当中的愤世嫉俗可能会指责我回头看着怀旧的阴霾的玫瑰色金，但我不确定其他人，无论是父母，情人还是朋友，都曾经像他那样关注我的感受。
“Go,” I said. “Go.” We kissed goodbye, and I gave Jeannie a little wave, but she was already heading out the door, and Miguel was loping across the floor to catch up with her.
“去，”我说。“去。”我们吻了告别，我给了珍妮一小浪，但是她已经走了门，米格尔（Miguel）在地板上倾斜地赶上了她。
Then I turned to Walker. “You really don’t have to,” I said.
然后我转向沃克。我说：“你真的不必这样做。”
“This is my very first American gig,” said Walker. “It’s either I eat with you, or I get a couple of slices by my lonesome and go home and watch the telly.”
“这是我的第一个美国演出，”沃克说。“要么我和你一起吃饭，要么我寂寞地得到了几片，然后回家看电视。”
“Do you like Szechuan cold sesame noodles?” I asked him.
“你喜欢Szechuan冷芝麻面条吗？”我问他。
They were the rage in those days, and super cheap.
当时，它们是愤怒的，而且超级便宜。
“That’s Chinese, hmm? New to me,” said Walker. “But new to me is why I’m here. I’m game. Also, I’m pretty fucking hungry.”
沃克说：“那是中国人，对我来说是新的。”“但是对我来说是新手。
“Bamboo House,” I said. “The sign says Chinese food, but it’s really just sesame oil and peanut butter. However, they serve free wine. Just over on Second Avenue.” “Free wine, you say?” said Walker. “I’m sold. You lead the way.”
“竹子，”我说。“标志表明中国菜，但实际上只是芝麻油和花生酱。但是，它们可以免费提供葡萄酒。就在第二大道上。”“免费葡萄酒，你说？”沃克说。“我卖了。你带领。”
“Okay,” I said. “But first I have to go thank Hattie.”
“好吧，”我说。“但是首先，我必须去感谢哈蒂。”
It took me another 30 minutes or so to extricate myself from the Square, there were so many cheeks to kiss, compliments to collect, and joints to toke. As I finally made it to the door, that guardian angel Hattie offered, sotto voce, “If you want to come back after, Annie, we can have a sleepover,” and I nodded, feeling a little teary again.
我又花了30分钟左右的时间来使自己从广场上解脱出来，有很多脸颊可以亲吻，称赞来收集和托克。当我终于到达门上时，守护天使哈蒂（Angel Hattie）提供了索托·沃斯（Sotto Voce），“如果你想回来，安妮，我们可以过夜，”我点了点头，再次感到泪流满面。
So I was surprised to find Walker waiting patiently for me on the sidewalk when I finally made my exit. I was sure he would be long gone, but there he was, drinking a beer. When I hopped off the last stoop step onto the street, he produced another bottle for me from the cargo pocket of his overalls. “I know these dungarees seem a bit sad,” he said, staring down at his pathetic outfit. “But they are in the stage directions. I got you a Heineken. Sorry if it’s warm as piss.”
因此，当我终于出口时，我很惊讶地发现沃克在人行道上耐心地等待着我。我确定他早已不见了，但是他在那里喝啤酒。当我跳下最后一步踏上街道时，他从工作服的货物口袋里为我生产了另一个瓶子。他说：“我知道这些舞者似乎有些难过。”“但是他们在舞台方向。我给你一个喜力。对不起，如果天气像小便一样温暖。”
“It took me too long to get out of there,” I said. “My fault. Are you still up for this?”
我说：“我花了很长时间才离开那里。”“我的错。你还在做这个吗？”
“Stop asking that,” said Walker. “It’s embarrassing. I have nothing else to do, and I’m grateful for the company.”
“别问了，”沃克说。“这很尴尬。我无事可做，我对公司表示感谢。”
We started walking over to Second Avenue, past what looked like a little Catholic school on the left, and Café Mogador, where they still have belly dancing, I’m told, on the right. The sidewalk was crowded, because the night was just getting started.
我开始走到第二大道，经过了左边的一所天主教学校，右边是肚皮舞的咖啡馆莫加多尔。人行道拥挤，因为夜晚才开始。
“So how long have you and Miguel been hitched?”
“那么您和Miguel被挂了多久了？”
He grabbed my waist as I was about to step in a little Carvel curl of dog doo, and swung me past it, just by lifting me off the ground an inch or two. The man was taller and stronger than I’d thought at first blush.
当我要踏上一小片狗doo卷曲时，他抓住了我的腰部，然后将我抬到地面一两英寸时，把我摇了起来。这个男人比我一开始脸红了。
“Three years,” I said. “But we’ve been together six. We did it after my freshman year at the New School.”
“三年，”我说。“但是我们已经在一起六个。我们在新学校的大一年后做到了。”
“Good for you. Though you don’t look old enough to be married to anyone,” said Walker.
沃克说：“对你有好处。虽然你看起来不够大，无法与任何人结婚。”
“Well, I am,” I said, defiantly.
“好吧，我是。”我挑衅地说。
“Your other half is brilliant,” he said. Then, starting over, unadorned admiration leaking out of his mouth, he said, “As a director, I never want to tell the actors what to do, I want to wheedle it out of them, it’s more organic that way, but I didn’t have to sweet-talk Miguel. He’s the real deal, a natural. More than that, I think he will go far.”
他说：“你的另一半太棒了。”然后，他从嘴里泄漏出来，毫无疑问的钦佩，他说：“作为导演，我永远不想告诉演员该怎么做，我想从他们身上弄出来，那是这样有机的，但是我不必甜蜜的米格尔。
I swelled with pride out of habit.
我为习惯而感到自豪。
We turned the corner; Bamboo House was in the middle of the block. “That’s it,” I said, pointing to the neon sign in the plate-glass window.
我们转弯了；竹屋在街区中间。“就是这样，”我指着板玻璃窗中的霓虹灯标志。
“‘Exotic food,’” Walker read out loud. “I guess the free wine isn’t enough of a selling point?”
“‘异国食物，’”沃克大声朗读。“我想免费的葡萄酒还不够吗？”
He opened the door and walked right in. Well trained by his loving mama, Miguel always held the door for me. To his credit, Walker sidestepped and held it ajar with one foot. We were seated in a vinyl booth by the window, bordered by snake plants on the sill, red lanterns hanging above our heads. A busy Chinese man wearing a white paper hat placed a teapot and two cups on the Formica table. Chopsticks and forks. Then he handed us menus that had been tucked under one arm. Walker opened his. “What should I have?” he asked.
他打开门，向右走。米格尔（Miguel）经过充满爱心的妈妈的训练，总是为我拿着门。值得称赞的是，沃克避开了一只脚的艾哈尔。我们坐在窗户旁边的乙烯基摊位里，在窗台上被蛇植物接壤，头顶上方悬挂着红色灯笼。一名忙碌的中国男子戴着白纸帽子放在福米卡桌子上的茶壶和两个杯子。筷子和叉子。然后，他递给我们被塞在一只手臂下的菜单。沃克打开了他。“我应该有什么？”他问。
“Egg rolls, barbecued ribs, fried rice?” Those were Miguel’s favorites.
“鸡蛋卷，烧烤排骨，炒饭？”那是米格尔的最爱。
“Done,” said Walker, and closed it again.
“完成了，”沃克说，再次关闭。
“What? I was just listing some family favorites. I’m not so sure how balanced a meal that is.”
“什么？我只是列出了一些家庭的最爱。我不确定一顿饭是如何平衡的。”
“Well, I’m famished. And we’re also getting the peanut macaroni, right?” he said. “Then I think this should be enough.”
“好吧，我很挣扎。我们也得到了花生通心粉，对吗？”他说。“那我认为这应该足够了。”
I looked at the menu and remembered my eating disorder. “I’m getting some brown rice and steamed broccoli,” I said.
我看着菜单，想起了我的饮食失调。我说：“我得到了一些糙米和蒸西兰花。”
“And I’ll let you eat my noodles,” he said, like it was settled. I relaxed a little.
他说：“我会让你吃我的面条。”我放松了一点。
The waiter came back with two cold glasses of fetchingly toxic-looking wine—they were an unnatural shade of Crayola lemon yellow—and placed them on the table. He took out his guest-check pad, and Walker nodded at me, so I did the ordering for both of us.
服务员带着两张冷眼镜的葡萄酒回来了，它们是不自然的crayola柠檬黄色的阴影，并将它们放在桌子上。他拿出了客座检查垫，沃克向我点点头，所以我为我们俩订购了。
“What about you?” I asked, once the waiter was out of earshot. “Do you have someone special in your life?” I sounded like my great-aunt Sadie.
“你呢？”我问，一旦服务员不了解。“你一生中有一个特别的人吗？”我听起来像是萨迪的姑姑。
“Holly? She’s a ballerina,” he said. “She’s dancing with the Royal Ballet right now. She’s supposed to come visit this summer if I last that long.”
“冬青？她是芭蕾舞演员，”他说。“她现在正在与皇家芭蕾舞团跳舞。如果我持续那么久，她应该今年夏天来访问。”
“Why did you come to New York?” I asked. I took a sip of the wine. It was as sweet and thirst-quenching as Kool-Aid. I liked it. It went down easy, and when the waiter passed by, I motioned for another round, even though I hadn’t finished this one yet. By the time he came back with the food, I’d want it.
“你为什么来纽约？”我问。我喝了一口酒。就像库尔艾德一样甜美而口渴。我喜欢它。它很容易倒下，当服务员经过时，即使我还没有完成这件事，我还是示意了另一轮比赛。当他回来食物时，我想要它。
“I can do things here I can’t do back in London. Like tonight, for instance. Like, I also like to stage dance, which is how Holly and I met. I’m not afraid of mixing stuff up,” he said. “Music, dance, theater, art, it’s all the same to me. Together, it’s only more interesting.”
他说：“我可以在这里做我不能在伦敦做的事情。“音乐，舞蹈，戏剧，艺术，对我来说都是一样的。在一起，这只是更有趣的。”
“I write plays myself,” I said. “It’s the only thing I can do, period. I mean, I work in a bookstore, and I’m slowly, slowly creeping toward my B.A., but I’d be a disaster at an office job, or anything else grown-up.”
“我写戏剧，”我说。“这是我唯一能做的，这是一段时间。我的意思是，我在书店里工作，我慢慢地朝着我的学士学位慢慢爬行，但我会在办公室工作或其他成年人的灾难。”
The waiter plopped two new glasses of wine on the table, as if they had been pre-poured on a conveyor belt in the kitchen. Finally, Walker took a tiny sip from his first one.
服务员在桌子上放了两杯新的葡萄酒，好像他们已经被预先贴在厨房的传送带上一样。最终，沃克从他的第一个小吃了。
“This stuff is nasty,” he said, making a face.
他说：“这东西很讨厌。”
“We could order you a beer?” I said, chugging mine.
“我们可以点啤酒吗？”我说，我的。
“Nah.” He smiled. “It’s like this neighborhood. Sweet, cheap, and nasty. I’m thrilled to be here.” And indeed, he looked thrilled.
“不。”他笑了。“就像这个社区。甜美，便宜和讨厌。我很高兴来到这里。”的确，他看上去很兴奋。
“So what is Holly like?” I asked.
“那么冬青树是什么？”我问。
“She’s fabulous. Beautiful, talented, smart, kind …” He trailed off a little.
“她很棒。美丽，才华横溢，聪明，善良……”他踩了一点。
“But?” I said.
“但？”我说。
He shook his head and frowned. “I’m not sure I love her enough,” he said.
他摇了摇头，皱了皱眉。他说：“我不确定我足够爱她。”
“I don’t have that problem,” I said.
“我没有这个问题，”我说。
“Oh, no?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “You and Miguel?”
“哦，不？”他问，拱起眉毛。“你和米格尔？”
“If anything, I love him too much,” I said.
我说：“如果有的话，我太爱他了。”
“I’m quoting the master himself now,” Walker said. “‘Love is the only disease that makes you feel better.’ Sam Shepard said that in an interview I read. I have fun with Holly, I like her a lot, but I don’t know if she makes me feel better.”
沃克说：“我现在就引用主人的话。”“‘爱是唯一让您感觉更好的疾病。’山姆·谢泼德（Sam Shepard）在接受采访中说。我和霍莉（Holly）一起玩得开心，我非常喜欢她，但我不知道她是否让我感觉更好。”
I felt the power of his stare travel all the way through my brown ones and down my spine and shiver into my knees.
我感觉到他凝视的力量一直穿过我的棕色脊椎，沿着我的脊椎颤抖，屈膝。
Did Miguel make me feel better? In some very important ways, he did—the ones I’d thought, until this particular night, mattered most. But in one really important way, he made me feel small and lonely.
Miguel让我感觉好些了吗？在某些非常重要的方面，他做到了 - 直到这个特定的夜晚，我想到的是最重要的。但是以一种非常重要的方式，他让我感到孤独而孤独。
The waiter came back with a big tray. All of our fried, carby, greasy food at once. He served the dishes around the table like a croupier. Everything was sizzling.
服务员带着一个大托盘回来。我们所有的油炸，卡比，油腻的食物。他像croupier一样在桌子周围提供盘子。一切都在嘶哑。
“I want to be in love like that,” Walker said, digging into the big bowl of sesame noodles with his fork and plopping a mountain of it on my plate.
沃克说：“我想像那样恋爱。”他用叉子挖了一大碗芝麻面条，在我的盘子上放了一座山峰。
“Me too,” I said. “I mean, I want that for you.” Showily, using my chopsticks, I took a big, delicious bite.
“我也是，”我说。“我的意思是，我想要你。”炫耀地，用筷子，我咬了一口美味的叮咬。
“And I want that for you too,” he said. Which startled me; hadn’t I just said that was what I already had? I looked up straight into his teal-blue eyes, and I felt the power of his stare travel all the way through my brown ones and down my spine and shiver into my knees. What the fuck?
他说：“我也想要你。”这让我震惊；我不是只是说那是我已经拥有的东西吗？我直视着他的蓝蓝色眼睛，我感到他凝视的力量一直穿过我的棕色，我的脊椎和颤抖的膝盖。什么他妈的？
After dinner, Walker walked me back to Hattie’s. I’d lied and told him that I’d left something behind, a purse or a hat, my pet poodle? Something that made no sense at all; I didn’t want him to know that I was going to sleep at Hattie’s because I figured Miguel would sleep at Angel’s, but I don’t think Walker was paying too much attention by then. He looked tired. And maybe a little drunk and sick from all that oily food and crappy wine.
晚餐后，沃克带我回到哈蒂的。我撒谎，告诉他，我把东西留在了钱包或帽子，我的宠物贵宾犬吗？根本没有意义的东西；我不想让他知道我要在哈蒂（Hattie）睡觉，因为我认为米格尔（Miguel）会在安吉尔（Angel's）睡觉，但我认为沃克（Walker）到那时并没有引起太多关注。他看上去很累。也许从所有油腻的食物和糟糕的葡萄酒中有点喝醉了。
When we got to Hattie’s stoop, I asked him where he was staying. “With some lads I know from university; they have an apartment up on 14th.” He nodded to the north with his handsome head. And then he said, “You know, it’s rare to find someone so easy to talk to.”
当我们到达哈蒂的弯腰时，我问他他在哪里。“有了我从大学中认识的一些小伙子；他们在14日有一间公寓。”他用英俊的头向北点了点头。然后他说：“你知道，很少有人能找到一个很容易与之交谈的人。”
Was it? Maybe it was. I’d never dated anyone but Miguel, and he could chat up the moon. I didn’t know what to say. So I nodded in agreement and tucked away the thought for later. “Good night, then,” he said, leaning over and kissing me on the cheek.
是吗？也许是。除了米格尔（Miguel）以外，我再也不会和任何人约会，他可以聊天。我不知道该说些什么。因此，我点了点头，并藏了以后的想法。“那么晚安，”他俯身亲吻我的脸颊。
“Good night,” I said, my heart a wild bird trapped inside my chest as I turned and raced up the mountain of steps leading to Hattie’s apartment.
“晚安，”我说，当我转过身跑上山上，通往哈蒂的公寓时，我的心被困在胸前。
The door was unlocked. And who did I find splayed out on Hattie’s Murphy bed but my Miguel. He was reading a copy of The Village Voice.
门被解锁了。我发现谁在哈蒂（Hattie）的墨菲（Murphy）床上散发出来，但我的米格尔（Miguel）。他正在阅读乡村声音的副本。
“Hey, you,” he said, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge to rest his feet on the floor.
“嘿，你。”他坐起来坐起来，将双腿摆在边缘，将脚放在地板上。
“Hey, you,” I said. “Where’s the Hat-ster?”
“嘿，你，”我说。“帽子在哪里？”
“She went out with Emile and them. She told me you were coming back here later, so I waited.” He patted the bed next to him. I walked over and sat down.
“她和埃米尔（Emile）和他们一起出去。她告诉我你稍后再回到这里，所以我等了。”他拍了拍他旁边的床。我走过去坐下。
“How was the party?” I asked.
“聚会怎么样？”我问。
“Pretty cool,” Miguel said. “I think that Jeannie wants to sign me.”
“很酷，”米格尔说。“我认为珍妮想签下我。”
“That’s awesome, Miguel,” I said, throwing my arms around him.
“太棒了，米格尔。”我说，伸出胳膊。
He laughed and hugged me back, allowing me to snuggle down into my space under his left arm, near the armpit.
他笑了，把我抱回去，让我依ugg在腋下附近的左臂下方的空间中。
“How was dinner with Walker?” he said.
“和沃克晚餐怎么样？”他说。
“He’s a nice guy,” I said.
“他是个好人，”我说。
“He’s a good director,” Miguel said. He leaned over and tipped my face up, so I had to look him in the eyes.
“他是一位好导演，”米格尔说。他俯身向我的脸倾斜，所以我不得不看着他。
He pushed some of my curls behind one of my ears. “I hope tonight wasn’t too much for you,” he said.
他将我的一些卷发推在我的一只耳朵后面。他说：“我希望今晚对你来说不是太多。”
He never had any intention of hurting me, I’m telling you that now sincerely. Nobody loved each other more than me and Miguel. Love was not our problem.
他从来没有打算伤害我，我现在真诚地告诉你。没有人比我和米格尔更爱彼此。爱不是我们的问题。
“It was, and it wasn’t,” I said.
我说：“那是，事实并非如此。”
“You are my precious wife,” he said.
他说：“你是我宝贵的妻子。”
“And you are my darling husband,” I said.
“而且你是我亲爱的丈夫，”我说。
Then we lay back on the bed in each other’s arms, and guess what? We fell asleep that way, both of us with our clothes and boots still on, like little kids. Around 3 a.m., Hattie came home, and she crawled into the bed with us. I was aware enough of her to roll over and hand her part of the duvet. As I said, in those days, the Herreras and Hattie Henderson were a family.
然后，我们躺在彼此怀抱的床上，猜猜是什么？我们这样就睡着了，我们俩都穿着衣服和靴子，就像小孩子一样。凌晨3点左右，哈蒂回到家，她和我们一起爬进床。我知道她足够多地翻身并把她的一部分交给了羽绒被。正如我所说，在那些日子里，Herreras和Hattie Henderson是一个家庭。
There are nights that take you from A to C and nights that take you from A to Z. This night took me from A to W, to Walker. I mean, not right away, of course, but eventually. Inevitably. It was a slow and painful reckoning. And for me, a big motherfucking surprise! I know I’d thought something incredible was coming when I’d left Brentano’s earlier that evening, but never did I think it would carry me away from the man I loved with all my heart.
有些夜晚将您从A到C和夜晚将您从A到Z带来。今晚将我从A到W到W沃克。我的意思是，当然不是马上，但最终。不可避免地。这是一个缓慢而痛苦的估计。对我来说，一个很大的混蛋！我知道当天晚上我离开布伦塔诺（Brentano）时，我认为我会出现令人难以置信的事情，但我从来没有想到这会让我全心全意地远离我所爱的人。
Sometimes it takes forever to act on what you’ve already known for a long, long time. I imagine it was a little like quitting heroin: the highs, the lows, the anguish and the hunger. Walker waited patiently in the friend zone until, after a while, Miguel was either on the road working or “out” all the time. Crying on Walker’s shoulder when Miguel didn’t come home one evening led to making love on Walker’s futon in his apartment. What can I say? It was revelatory. Finally, I was enough for someone.
有时，要花很长时间以来您已经知道的事物需要永远。我想这有点像退出海洛因：高潮，低点，痛苦和饥饿。沃克耐心地在朋友区等着，直到过了一会儿，米格尔一直在路上工作，要么一直在“外出”。当米格尔（Miguel）一个晚上不回家时，沃克（Walker）的肩膀哭泣，导致在沃克（Walker）的公寓里做爱。我能说什么？这是启示性的。最后，我对某人足够了。
“More than enough,” Walker whispered into my ear that night. “You are more than enough for me.”
“足够了，”沃克那天晚上低声说道。“你对我来说足够了。”
When I got the courage to move out of our place and into Hattie’s, a protesting Miguel still helped me carry my belongings over to St. Marks. Little lambs that we were, we sobbed ceaselessly in each other’s arms, not realizing a sadder day was coming.
当我有勇气搬出我们的位置并进入哈蒂（Hattie）时，抗议的米格尔（Miguel）仍然帮助我将财产带到圣马克斯（St. Marks）。我们曾经是小羔羊，我们不断地在彼此的怀抱中抽泣，没有意识到即将到来的悲伤的一天。
In the meanwhile, Jeannie had been doing her job, thank God. Miguel had a great run after Fool. He went on the road as Horst in Bent; in Biloxi Blues, he played Eugene, with Jake Kaminsky as Arnold; and with his inky-black locks dyed sandy brown, he took the crown as Biff in Death of a Salesman on Broadway. During that time, he’d likewise moved on from Angel to Angel’s ex Bobby, and then to Marcos. I’d left, but I’d also set him free! There was a new kind of harmony between us.
同时，珍妮一直在做她的工作，感谢上帝。米格尔（Miguel）追赶了傻瓜。他在弯曲的霍斯特（Horst）上路。在比洛克西·布鲁斯（Biloxi Blues）中，他与杰克·卡明斯基（Jake Kaminsky）一起扮演尤金（Eugene）。凭借他的漆黑锁染成桑迪·布朗（Sandy Brown），他将王冠作为百老汇的推销员去世。在那段时间里，他同样会从天使的前鲍比（Angel）前往马科斯（Marcos）。我离开了，但我也让他自由了！我们之间有一种新的和谐。
It was another year before Miguel tested positive. It took encouragement and hand-holding from Walker to get tested myself, so we did it together. I was shaking when they drew my blood, but Walker held me steady. When it was his turn, he just stuck out his arm.
米格尔（Miguel）阳性测试是又一年。沃克（Walker）受到鼓励和手持，对自己进行了测试，所以我们一起做了。当他们抽血时，我在发抖，但沃克使我保持稳定。轮到他了，他只是伸出了手臂。
With that out of the way, we moved in together into a Mitchell-Lama sublet on First Avenue and East Second Street.
随之而来的是，我们一起搬进了第一大街和东第二街上的米切尔 - 拉玛士兵。
Angel eventually gave up on theater and entered the world of fashion, and is alive today. As Miguel got sicker, Angel and I and Miguel’s mother took turns taking care of him. We hadn’t divorced, and even if we had, he would always be my husband. Sometimes Walker would accompany me to the apartment, and sometimes, when I was working, he also went on his own to visit. They were friends, in the end. As Miguel lay dying, I sat by his bedside, day after day after day, the two of us talking a blue streak like always. Once he stopped eating, the conversations stopped too, Miguel’s eyes glazing over as I read to him from his beloved Auden, from the New York Post. I sang to him until, one evening, long after he had stopped saying much, he shook his ravaged head, bald and spotted, unrecognizable, and said, “Mi amor, por favor, please, please shut up.” It was almost as if he’d come back from the dead. We burst out laughing. We laughed and laughed, our final laugh together.
天使最终放弃了剧院，进入了时尚世界，今天还活着。当米格尔病得很厉害时，安吉尔和我和米格尔的母亲轮流照顾他。我们没有离婚，即使我们有过，他也永远是我的丈夫。有时，沃克会陪我去公寓，有时，当我工作时，他也独自去参观。他们是朋友，最后。当米格尔（Miguel）垂死时，我日复一日地坐在他的床边，我们两个人一如既往地谈论蓝色条纹。一旦他停止进食，谈话也停止了，当我从他心爱的奥登（Auden）向纽约邮报（New York Post）读到他时，米格尔（Miguel）的眼睛闪闪发光。我向他唱歌，直到一个晚上，他停止说太多了，他摇了摇头，秃头，发现，无法识别，然后说：“ Mi Amor，por for，请，请闭嘴。”好像他会从死里复活。我们笑了起来。我们笑着笑了，我们一起笑在一起。
I’m the worst singer in the world.
我是世界上最糟糕的歌手。
After Miguel died, Walker and I kept on working and building our careers. Eventually, we put a ring on it and had a little daughter. Kate. She is the light of both our lives. But from time to time, usually in the darkness of one of those sleepless nights of the midnight soul, I’ll text my old pal Hattie Henderson. She’s a mother of three now and lives a stay-at-home life in some shmancy town in Westchester—a lot’s changed, but a lot hasn’t. She is still my unpaid confessor. Like last night, when I wrote to her at 2 o’clock in the morning: Did you know I was fucking nuts back then?
米格尔（Miguel）去世后，沃克（Walker）和我继续工作并建立我们的职业生涯。最终，我们在上面放了一个戒指，并有了一个小女儿。凯特。她是我们两人的光芒。但是，通常不时，通常在午夜灵魂的那些不眠之夜的黑暗中，我会发短信给我的老朋友哈蒂·亨德森（Hattie Henderson）。她现在是三个孩子的母亲，在韦斯特彻斯特的某个Shmancy Town过着全职生活 - 发生了很多变化，但事实并非如此。她仍然是我无薪的悔者。就像昨晚一样，当我早上2点写给她时：您知道我那时他妈的疯了吗？
Hattie was up too. Like me, she has demons that no amount of bourgeois posturing can shake. At 2:15, she texted back: Everyone did! But all of us were kind of nuts then too.
哈蒂也起来了。像我一样，她有恶魔，没有任何资产阶级的姿势可以动摇。在2:15，她发短信：每个人都做到了！但是我们所有人也很疯狂。
I wrote back: Don’t tell. It would kill Walky, but sometimes I still miss Miguel so much I bite down on my own fist until it bleeds. There were little red pearls pooling on my knuckles. I stanched them with torn pieces of Kleenex the way Walker did when he cut his neck shaving.
我回信：不要告诉。它会杀死Walky，但有时我仍然非常想念Miguel，我咬着拳头，直到流血。我的指关节上几乎没有红珍珠。我用撕裂的克莱内克斯（Kleenex）用沃克（Walker）剃光脖子时的方式将它们缠住了。
Hattie texted back: You were meant for each other in a better place. Here on earth, it all pretty much sucks. Even though a lot of things are beautiful.
Hattie发短信：您是在一个更好的地方彼此互相互相指示的。在地球上，一切都很糟糕。即使很多事情很漂亮。
I looked at my hand and saw that the bleeding had stopped.
我看着手，看到流血已经停止了。
So I crawled back into bed and closed my eyes.
所以我爬回床上，闭上了眼睛。
This story has been excerpted from Helen Schulman’s forthcoming book, Fools for Love .
这个故事摘自海伦·舒尔曼（Helen Schulman）即将出版的《傻瓜》（Fors for Love）。
