小说第三个层面是工业化社会和传统黑人社会之间的冲突。工业化给美国社会带来了物质上的繁荣和丰富，小说中的“汽车”“太阳镜”“宝丽来相机”等象征着来自工业社会的冲击，而“我”家里的搅乳棒和制作酸奶的搅乳器等则代表了传统黑人社会的劳作方式。看到迪伊戴着墨镜从汽车里出来时，玛吉不停发出“呃”的声音，由此就可以看出两者之间的明显差异。

小说第四个层面的冲突是比较隐性的，那就是黑人女性和整个男权社会之间的无形冲突。叙事者“我”就是众多黑人女性的代表，“现实生活中，我是个大块头，骨架子也大，有一双粗糙的、干男人活儿的手。……我能杀猪，再把猪收拾干净，狠劲儿不输男人。……有个冬天，我用把大锤撂倒了一头公牛犊子，锤子硬生生砸在它两眼之间的脑门上，而且天黑之前我就把牛肉都挂起来冷冻了”。比起小说中出现的三位性格鲜明的女性，唯一的男性——哈基姆-理发师却显得滑稽怪诞。在这个层面上，作者讴歌了黑人女性勤劳能干的美德。

总言之，《生活用品》一文尽管短小，却内涵丰富，它以反讽的方式揭示了当时轰轰烈烈的民权运动的误区，描写了不同年龄黑人女性之间的代沟和隔阂，彰显了黑人女性的传统美德。此外，作为黑人女性，作者也向白人社会、男权社会发出了抗争的声音。

I

I will wait for her in the yard that Maggie and I made so clean and wavy yesterday afternoon. A yard like this is more comfortable than most people know. It is not just a yard. It is like an extended living room. When the hard clay is swept clean as a floor and the fine sand around the edges lined with tiny, irregular grooves, anyone can come and sit and look up into the elm tree and wait for the breezes that never come inside the house.

我就在这院子里等着她，昨天下午我和玛吉把院子收拾得干干净净，地面还有清扫留下的波纹。大多数人都不明白，这样的院子比他们想的要舒适。它不只是个院子，而像是扩大的客厅。当院子里的硬泥地给打扫得像屋内地板一样干净，周边的细沙上布满细小不匀的沟纹时，谁都可以进来坐坐，抬头观赏榆树，等待永远也吹不进屋的阵阵微风。

[2] Maggie will be nervous until after her sister goes: she will stand hopelessly in corners, homely and ashamed of the burn scars down her arms and legs, eying her sister with a mixture of envy and awe. She thinks her sister has held life always in the palm of one hand, that "no" is a word the world never learned to say to her.

[2] 在她姐姐离开之前，玛吉会一直紧张不安：相貌平平的她会迷惘地站在角落里，羡慕而敬畏地看着姐姐，为手臂和腿上烧伤留下的疤痕自惭形秽。她觉得姐姐总能牢牢地掌握生活，这个世界从没学会对姐姐说半个“不”字。

[3] You’ve no doubt seen those TV shows where the child who has “made it” is confronted,as a surprise, by her own mother and father, tottering in weakly from backstage. (A pleasant surprise, of course: What would they do if parent and child came on the show only to curse out and insult each other?) On TV mother and child embrace and smile into each other’s faces. Sometimes the mother and father weep, the child wraps them in her arms and leans across the table to tell how she would not have made it without their help. I have seen these programs.

[3] 你一定看过那些电视节目，“事业成功”的孩子在台上，她虚弱的双亲蹒跚着从后台走出来，与她意外相聚。（当然，这种相聚得是惊喜：如果父母和孩子上节目就为相互诅咒和辱骂，这又何苦呢？）节目里，母亲和孩子热情拥抱，相视而笑。有时候爸爸妈妈会哭泣，女儿则会张开双臂搂着他们，还会从桌子另一边探身告诉他们，没有他们的帮助，她就如何如何不会成功。我看过好些这样的节目。

[4] Sometimes I dream a dream in which Dee and I are suddenly brought together on a TV program of this sort. Out of a dark and soft-seated limousine I am ushered into a bright room filled with many people. There I meet a smiling, gray, sporty man like Johnny Carsonwho shakes my hand and tells me what a fine girl I have. Then we are on the stage and Dee is embracing me with tears in her eyes. She pins on my dress a large orchid, even though she has told me once that she thinks orchids are tacky flowers.

[4] 有时候，我梦见自己和迪伊被安排在这类电视节目中忽然相逢。走下深色软座豪车，我被带进一个挤满人的明亮大厅。在那里，我遇到一个像约翰尼·卡森3的男人，他满头银发，精神抖擞，面带微笑同我握手，对我说我有一个多么多么优秀的女儿。然后，我们走上舞台，迪伊眼噙泪花拥抱我。她在我的衣服上别上一大朵兰花，尽管她有次曾告诉我兰花很俗气。

[5] In real life I am a large, big-boned woman with rough, man-working hands. In the winter I wear flannel nightgowns to bed and overalls during the day. I can kill and clean a hog as mercilessly as a man. My fat keeps me hot in zero weather. I can work outside all day, breaking ice to get water for washing; I can eat pork liver cooked over the open fire minutes after it comes steaming from the hog. One winter I knocked a bull calf straight in the brain between the eyes with a sledge hammer and had the meat hung up to chill before nightfall. But of course all this does not show on television. I am the way my daughter would want me to be: a hundred pounds lighter, my skin like an uncooked barley pancake. My hair glistens in the hot bright lights. Johnny Carson has much to do to keep up with my quick and witty tongue.

[5] 现实生活中，我是个大块头，骨架子也大，有一双粗糙的、干男人活儿的手。冬天，我穿法兰绒睡衣睡觉，白天穿工装。我能杀猪，再把猪收拾干净，狠劲儿不输男人。我这一身的脂肪让我在严寒天气也不觉得冷。我可以整天在户外工作，凿冰取水洗东西；我可以从猪身上取下冒着热气的猪肝，在明火上烧几分钟后就把它吃掉。有个冬天，我用把大锤撂倒了一头公牛犊子，锤子硬生生砸在它两眼之间的脑门上，而且天黑之前我就把牛肉都挂起来冷冻了。不过，所有这些当然不会出现在电视上。台上的我会是女儿所希望的样子：体重轻了100磅，皮肤就像生的大麦煎饼，头发在炽热明亮的灯光下闪闪发亮。我口齿伶俐，妙语连珠，连约翰尼·卡森也跟不上我。

[6] But that is a mistake. I know even before I wake up. Who ever knew a Johnson with a quick tongue? Who can even imagine me looking a strange white man in the eye? It seems to me I have talked to them always with one foot raised in flight, with my head turned in whichever way is farthest from them. Dee, though. She would always look anyone in the eye. Hesitation was no part of her nature.

[6] 但这不是真的，即使还在梦中我也知道。谁听说过约翰逊家有口齿伶俐的人？谁能想象我敢直视陌生白人男子的眼睛？和他们说话时，我好像总是抬起一只脚，头转向离他们最远的方向，随时准备逃跑。不过，迪伊不然，她总是直视别人的眼睛。犹豫不是她的本性。

[7]“How do I look, Mama?” Maggie says, showing just enough of her thin body enveloped in pink skirt and red blouse for me to know she's there, almost hidden by the door.

“Come out into the yard,” I say.

Have you ever seen a lame animal, perhaps a dog run over by some careless person rich enough to own a car, sidle up to someone who is ignorant enough to be kind to him? That is the way my Maggie walks. She has been like this, chin on chest, eyes on ground, feet in shuffle, ever since the fire that burned the other house to the ground.

[7] “瞧我怎么样，妈妈？”玛吉说。她瘦小的身躯裹在粉红色裙子和红色罩衫中，整个人几乎躲在门后，只露出了一丁点儿，这才让我知道她在那儿。

“到院子里来吧。”我说。

你有没有见过瘸腿的动物，比如被有钱买车的人不小心撞伤的狗，它会不声不响地靠近某个不知就里依然善待它的人？这就是我的玛吉走路的样子。自从大火将另一处房子烧得精光，她就一直是这副模样，下巴贴着胸口，眼睛盯着地上，双脚拖着走路。

[8] Dee is lighter than Maggie, with nicer hair and a fuller figure. She’s a woman now, though sometimes I forget. How long ago was it that the other house burned? Ten, twelve years? Sometimes I can still hear the flames and feel Maggie’s arms sticking to me, her hair smoking and her dress falling off her in little black papery flakes. Her eyes seemed stretched open, blazed open by the flames reflected in them. And Dee. I see her standing off under the sweet gum tree she used to dig gum out of; a look of concentration on her face as she watched the last dingy gray board of the house fall in toward the red-hot brick chimney. Why don’t you do a dance around the ashes? I’d wanted to ask her. She had hated the house that much.

[8] 迪伊比玛吉轻，头发更好看，身材也更丰满。她现在已经是个女人了，虽然有时我会忘记这一点。另一处房子给烧掉是多久之前的事了？10年，还是12年？有时候，我仍然可以听到火焰燃烧的声音，感觉到玛吉的手臂紧挽着我，她的头发在冒烟，衣服如同黑色小纸片般掉落。火苗映射在她眼中，仿佛把她双眼撑大了，燃着了。迪伊呢，我看见她远远站在以前常常采集树脂的那棵枫香树下，一脸专注，盯着房顶最后一块昏暗的灰板朝着滚烫发红的砖砌烟囱塌陷下去。你为什么不绕着灰烬跳舞呢？我很想问她。她是如此讨厌那处房子。

[9] I used to think she hated Maggie, too. But that was before we raised money, the church and me, to send her to Augusta to school. She used to read to us without pity; forcing words, lies, other folks’ habits, whole lives upon us two, sitting trapped and ignorant underneath her voice. She washed us in a river of make-believe, burned us with a lot of knowledge we didn’t necessarily need to know. Pressed us to her with the seriousway she read, to shove us away at just the moment, like dimwits, we seemed about to understand.

[9] 我常常想她也讨厌玛吉。但这是我们——我和教会——筹钱送她去奥古斯塔上学之前的事。她念书给我们听时，丝毫不顾及我们，将书上的那些话、谎言、别人的习惯、别人的全部生活一股脑地强塞给我们，我俩坐在那儿，被困在她的声音之下，不知所云。她时而让我们在虚幻的河流中浸洗，时而让我们在许多我们不必了解的知识中焦灼。她一本正经地读，让我们不得不认真听，但当我们刚刚若有所得，她又把我们像傻瓜一样推开。

[10] Dee wanted nice things. A yellow organdy dress to wear to her graduation from high school; black pumps to match a green suit she’d made from an old suit somebody gave me. She was determined to stare down any disaster in her efforts. Her eyelids would not flicker for minutes at a time. Often I fought off the temptation to shake her. At sixteen she had a style of her own: and knew what style was.

[10] 迪伊喜欢漂亮的东西：参加高中毕业典礼穿的黄色玻璃纱裙子；搭配绿色套装的黑色无带浅口轻便鞋，那套装是她用别人给我的一件旧衣服改的。她在做的事情，无论遇到什么困难，她都会坚决去克服。她可以几分钟不眨一下眼。我常常想去动摇她，但都克制住了这种念头。16岁的时候，她已经形成了自己的范儿，也知道了范儿是什么意思。

[11] I never had an education myself. After second grade the school was closed down. Don’t ask my why: in 1927 colored asked fewer questions than they do now. Sometimes Maggie reads to me. She stumbles along good-naturedly but can’t see well. She knows she is not bright. Like good looks and money, quickness passes her by. She will marry John Thomas (who has mossy teeth in an earnest face) and then I’ll be free to sit here and I guess just sing church songs to myself. Although I never was a good singer. Never could carry a tune. I was always better at a man’s job. I used to love to milk till I was hooked in the side in ’49. Cows are soothing and slow and don’t bother you, unless you try to milk them the wrong way.

[11] 我自己没上过什么学，刚读完二年级，学校就关门了。不要问我为什么：1927年的黑人可不像现在的黑人问那么多问题。有时候，玛吉也念书给我听。她倒是好心好意地慢慢读，但她能读明白的不多。她知道自己不聪明。如同美貌和财富一样，机敏也与她无缘。她将嫁给约翰·托马斯，一个脸老实巴交、牙齿像生了苔藓的人，那之后，我就可以自由自在地坐在这里，也许还会自娱自乐地唱一些教会歌曲呢，虽然我根本不会唱歌，总也唱不成调。我一向还是干男人的活儿比较利索。以前我喜欢挤牛奶，直到1949年肋部被撞了才罢手。奶牛生性温顺，动作缓慢，不会给你惹麻烦，除非你挤奶的方法不对。

[12] I have deliberately turned my back on the house. It is three rooms, just like the one that burned, except the roof is tin; they don’t make shingle roofs any more. There are no real windows, just some holes cut in the sides, like the portholes in a ship, but not round and not square, with rawhide holding the shutters up on the outside. This house is in a pasture, too, like the other one. No doubt when Dee sees it she will want to tear it down. She wrote me once that no matter where we “choose” to live, she will manage to come see us. But she will never bring her friends. Maggie and I thought about this and Maggie asked me, “Mama, when did Dee ever have any friends?”

[12] 我故意背对着房子。这房子有三间屋子，除了屋顶是锡做的外，其他和被烧掉的那个一模一样。现在人们不再造木瓦板屋顶了。房子没有真正的窗户，只在屋侧开了几个洞，就像船的舷窗一样，但形状既不圆也不方，外面用生牛皮吊着百叶窗。这房子跟烧掉的那个一样，也建在牧场上。毫无疑问，迪伊见到这房子，一定想把它给拆了。她有一次写信说，无论我们“选择”住在哪里，她都会设法来看我们。但她永远不会带她的朋友们来。我和玛吉都想到了这一点，玛吉曾问我：“妈妈，迪伊什么时候有过朋友啊？”

[13] She had a few. Furtive boys in pink shirts hanging about on washday after school. Nervous girls who never laughed. Impressed with her they worshiped the well-turned phrase, the cute shape, the scalding humor that erupted like bubbles in lye. She read to them.

When she was courting Jimmy T she didn’t have much time to pay to us, but turned all her faultfinding power on him. He flew to marry a cheap city girl from a family of ignorant flashy people. She hardly had time to recompose herself.

[13] 她有过几个朋友：几个穿着粉色衬衣、鬼头鬼脑的男孩，他们在洗衣日放学后就出来晃荡；还有几个从来不笑、神经兮兮的女孩。他们被迪伊吸引住了，崇拜她得体的语言、可爱的身材，还有她那汩汩冒出的碱水泡沫般的尖酸幽默。她也读书给他们听。

她追求吉米·T那会儿，没有多少时间理会我们，她把那挑刺儿的能耐都用在他身上了。很快，吉米就迎娶了一个差劲的城市姑娘，那姑娘一家子都无知又俗气。她很久都无法平复。

[14] When she comes I will meet—but there they are!

Maggie attempts to make a dash for the house, in her shuffling way, but I stay her with my hand. “Come back here,” I say. And she stops and tries to dig a well in the sand with her toe.

[14] 她来的时候我会去迎接——可不，他们来了！

玛吉拖着脚，试图朝房子冲去，但我伸手拦住了她。“回来！”我说。她停下脚步，脚趾在沙子里用力挖，似乎想挖出口井来。

II

It is hard to see them clearly through the strong sun. But even the first glimpse of legout of the car tells me it is Dee. Her feet were always neat-looking, as if God himself had shaped them with a certain style. From the other side of the car comes a short, stocky man. Hair is all over his head a foot long and hanging from his chin like a kinky mule tail. I hear Maggie suck in her breath. “Uhnnnh,” is what it sounds like. Like when you see the wriggling end of a snake just in front of your foot on the road. “Uhnnnh.”

阳光强烈，难以看清他们。但只第一眼瞥见从车里跨出的腿，我就知道是迪伊。她的脚看上去总是很精致，好像是上帝亲自塑造的那么有型。车的另一侧走出一位矮矮胖胖的男子，头发盖住了整个脑袋，足有一英尺长，从下巴那儿垂下，像卷曲的骡子尾巴。我听到玛吉深吸了口气，发出类似“呃”的声音，若在路上看见一条蛇尾巴在你脚前蠕动，你也会发出这样的声音：“呃。”

[2] Dee next. A dress down to the ground, in this hot weather. A dress so loud it hurts my eyes. There are yellows and oranges enough to throw back the light of the sun. I feel my whole face warming from the heat waves it throws out. Earrings gold, too, and hanging down to her shoulders. Bracelets dangling and making noises when she moves her arm up to shake the folds of the dress out of her armpits. The dress is loose and flows, and as she walks closer, I like it. I hear Maggie go “Uhnnnh” again. It is her sister’s hair. It stands straight up like the wool on a sheep. It is black as night and around the edges are two long pigtails that rope about like small lizards disappearing behind her ears.

[2] 接着就看到迪伊了。这大热天，她身着接地长裙，裙子俗艳刺眼，各种黄色和橙色反射阳光，发出的热浪让我感觉整个脸都发烫。还有金耳环，直垂到肩膀。当她抬起手臂抖开腋窝处的裙子褶皱时，手镯悬荡，发出响声。她的裙子宽大、飘逸，当她走近时，我喜欢上了那裙子。我听见玛吉又“呃”了一声，这次是冲她姐姐的头发：它们直挺挺的，像绵羊身上的绒毛，颜色乌黑，头两侧扎有两条长长的辫子，像小蜥蜴一样消失在耳后。

[3]“Wa-su-zo-Tean-o!” she says, coming on in that gliding way the dress makes her move. The short stocky fellow with the hair to his navel is all grinning and he follows up with "Asalamalakim, my mother and sister!" He moves to hug Maggie but she falls back, right up against the back of my chair. I feel her trembling there and when I look up I see the perspiration falling off her chin.

[3] “姆-妈-早！”她身随裙动，边说边飘了过来。那个头发垂到肚脐的矮胖男人满脸堆笑，跟着说：“真主保佑，我的妈妈，我的妹妹！”他上前拥抱玛吉，但玛吉直往后缩，紧紧抵住了我的椅子背。我感觉她在发抖，抬头看见汗水顺着她下巴滴下来。

[4] “Don’t get up,” says Dee. Since I am stout it takes something of a push. You can see me trying to move a second or two before I make it. She turns, showing white heels through her sandals, and goes back to the car. Out she peeks next with a Polaroid. She stoops down quickly and lines up picture after picture of me sitting there in front of the house with Maggie cowering behind me. She never takes a shot without making sure the house is included. When a cow comes nibbling around the edge of the yard she snaps it and me and Maggie andthe house. Then she puts the Polaroid in the back seat of the car, and comes up and kisses me on the forehead.

[4] “别起来。”迪伊说。因为我比较胖，站起来需要借把力。旁人都会瞧见，我得先活动活动才能站起来。她转过身，回到车旁，穿的凉鞋露出白白的脚后跟。紧接着，她拿了一部“宝丽来”相机瞄过来。她很快俯身“啪啪啪”连拍好几张，都是我坐在房子前，玛吉缩在我身后。她要确保每张照片都把房子拍进去了。一头奶牛来院子边吃草，她就把牛、我、玛吉连同房子一起抓拍下来。随后，她把宝丽来放回车后座，这才走上前来亲我额头。

[5] Meanwhile Asalamalakim is going through motions with Maggie’s hand. Maggie’s hand is as limp as a fish, and probably as cold, despite the sweat, and she keeps trying to pull it back. It looks like Asalamalakim wants to shake hands but wants to do it fancy. Or maybe he don’tknow how people shake hands. Anyhow, he soon gives up on Maggie.

[5] 此时，“真主保佑”作势去拉玛吉的手。玛吉的手像鱼一样柔软，可能也一样冰凉，尽管在出汗。她不断试着把手往回缩。看样子，“真主保佑”是想和她握手，又想把这手握得与众不同，或许他不知道该怎么握手。不管怎样，他很快就放弃了。

[6] “Well,” I say. “Dee.”

“No, Mama,” she says. “Not ‘Dee,’ Wangero Leewanika Kemanjo!”

“What happened to‘Dee’?” I wanted to know.

“She’s dead,” Wangero said. “I couldn’t bear it any longer, being named after the people who oppress me.”

[6] “你好，迪伊。”我说。

“不，妈妈，”她说，“别叫我‘迪伊’，叫我‘万杰萝·李万尼卡·克曼约’！”

“‘迪伊’怎么啦？”我很纳闷。

“她已经死了，”万杰萝说，“我再也受不了了，用一个欺压我的人的名字来取名。”

[7] “You know as well as me you was named after your aunt Dicie,” I said. Dicie is my sister. She named Dee. We called her “Big Dee” after Dee was born.

“But who was shenamed after?” asked Wangero.

“I guess after Grandma Dee,” I said.

“And who was she named after?” asked Wangero.

“Her mother,” I said, and saw Wangero was getting tired. “That’s about as far back as I can trace it,” I said. Though, in fact, I probably could have carried it back beyond the Civil War through the branches.

[7] “你我都很清楚，你是随你姨妈迪西伊取名的。”我说。迪西伊是我姐姐，是她给迪伊取的名字。迪伊出生后，我们就管迪西伊叫“大迪伊”。

“但她的名字是随谁取的？”万杰萝问。

“我想是随外婆迪伊吧。”我说。

“那外婆又是随谁取的呢？”万杰萝问。

“她妈妈。”我说，然后看到万杰萝有些不耐烦了，“我只能追溯到这儿了。”但事实上，我顺藤摸瓜也许能追回到内战前。

[8] “Well,” said Asalamalakim, “there you are.”

“Uhnnnh,” I heard Maggie say.

“There I was not,” I said, “before ‘Dicie’ cropped up in our family, so why should I try to trace it that far back?”

He just stood there grinning, looking down on me like somebody inspecting a Model A car. Every once in a while he and Wangero sent eye signals over my head.

“How do you pronounce this name?” I asked.

“You don’t have to call me by it if you don’t want to,” said Wangero.

“Why shouldn’t I?” I asked. “If that’s what you want us to call you, we’ll call you.”

[8] “瞧，”“真主保佑”说，“这就对了嘛”

“呃。”我听到玛吉发出的声音。

“对什么对，”我说，“‘迪西伊’这个名字出现在我们家以前还没有我，我干吗要追溯那么远？”

他站在那里咧嘴干笑，又低头看看我，好像谁在检查福特A型汽车。他和万杰萝时不时在我头顶上互相使着眼色。

“你的名字怎么念？”我问。

“如果不愿意，您可以不叫我这个名字。”万杰萝说。

“为什么不？”我问，“如果你想我们那样叫你，我们就那样叫呗。”

[9]“I know it might sound awkward at first,” said Wangero.

“I’ll get used to it,” I said. “Reamit out again.”

Well, soon we got the name out of the way. Asalamalakim had a name twice as long and three times as hard. After I tripped over it two or three times he told me to just call him Hakim-a-barber. I wanted to ask him was he a barber, but I didn’t really think he was, so I didn’t ask.

[9] “我知道，这名字乍一听可能别扭。”万杰萝说。

“我会习惯的，”我说，“你再念一遍。”

嗯，我们很快就解决了名字问题。“真主保佑”的名字比万杰萝长一倍，难两倍。我念错两三遍后，他说我管他叫“哈基姆-理发师”就好了。我想问他是不是理发师，但又真心觉得他不像，于是就没问。

[10]“You must belong to those beef-cattle peoples down the road,” I said. They said “Asalamalakim” when they met you, too, but they didn't shake hands. Always too busy: feeding the cattle, fixing the fences, putting up salt-lick shelters, throwing down hay. When the white folks poisoned some of the herd the men stayed up all night with rifles in their hands. I walked a mile and a half just to see the sight.

[10] “你一准儿跟路那头养菜牛的人是一样的。”我说。那些人遇到你时也说“真主保佑”，可他们不握手。他们总是忙个不停：喂牛，修篱笆，搭建棚子放置牛舔的盐块，堆干草。白人毒死了他们一些牛后，他们手持来福枪，整夜不睡。我曾步行一英里半，就为看那场景。

[11] Hakim-a-barber said, “I accept some of their doctrines, but farming and raising cattle is not my style.” (They didn’t tell me, and I didn’t ask, whether Wangero (Dee) had really gone and married him.)

We sat down to eat and right away he said he didn’t eat collards and pork was unclean. Wangero, though, went on through the chitlins and cornbread, the greens and everything else. She talked a blue streakover the sweet potatoes. Everything delighted her. Even the fact that we still used the benches her daddy made for the table when we couldn’t affordto buy chairs.

[11] 哈基姆-理发师说：“他们有些教义我接受，但我不喜欢种地养牛。”（他们没告诉我，我也没问，万杰萝/迪伊是不是真的嫁给他了。）

我们坐下吃东西，他马上说不吃羽衣甘蓝，还有猪肉是不干净的。但万杰萝照吃不误，猪肠配玉米面包、绿叶菜等等，什么都吃。她滔滔不绝地聊甘薯。一切都令她开心。当初买不起椅子时她老爹做的配桌长凳，我们仍在使用，连这也让她开心不已。

[12]“Oh, Mama!” she cried. Then turned to Hakim-a-barber. “I never knew how lovely these benches are. You can feel the rump prints,” she said, running her hands underneath her and along the bench. Then she gave a sigh and her hand closed over Grandma Dee’s butter dish. “That’s it!”she said. “I knew there was something I wanted to ask you if I could have.” She jumped up from the table and went over in the corner where the churn stood, the milk in it clabber by now. She looked at the churn and looked at it.

[12] “啊，妈妈！”她喊道，然后转向哈基姆-理发师，“我以前居然不知道这些长凳如此可爱！你都能摸到屁股印。”她一边说，一边将手伸到屁股下面摸着长凳。然后，她叹了口气，把手捂在迪伊外婆用过的黄油碟子上。“没错！”她说，“我早知道家里有些东西，我想问您能否让我带走。”她从桌边跳起来，走到墙角，那儿立着一个搅乳器，里面的牛奶已经凝成酸奶。她看了看搅乳器，又看了看酸奶。

[13]“This churn top is what I need,” she said. “Didn’t Uncle Buddy whittle it out of a tree you all used to have?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Un huh,” she said happily. “And I want the dasher, too.”

“Uncle Buddy whittle that, too?” asked the barber.

Dee (Wangero) looked up at me.

[13] “这搅乳器的盖子我想要，”她说，“这不是当年巴迪舅舅用你们的一颗树削成的吗？”

“对。”我说。

“啊哈，”她兴高采烈地说，“我还想要这搅乳棒。”

“那也是巴迪舅舅削的吗？”理发师问道。

迪伊/万杰萝抬头看着我。

[14]“Aunt Dee’s first husband whittled the dash,” said Maggie so low you almost couldn’t hear her. “His name was Henry, but they called him Stash.”

“Maggie’s brain is like an elephant’s,” Wangero said, laughing. “I can use the chute top as a centerpiece for the alcove table,” she said, sliding a plate over the churn, “and I’ll think of something artistic to do with the dasher.”

[14] “是迪伊姨妈的第一个丈夫削的搅乳拌，”玛吉说，声音轻得几乎听不见，“他名字是亨利，可大家都叫他斯塔什。”

“玛吉的记性真好，跟大象的一样，”万杰萝笑着说，“我可以把这个带槽的盖子放在凹室桌子中央当装饰品。”她边说，边顺手拿了一个盘子盖住搅乳器，“至于这搅乳棒嘛，我也会想出个艺术用途的。”

[15]When she finished wrapping the dasher the handle stuck out. I took it for a moment in my hands. You didn’t even have to look close to see where hands pushing the dasher up and down to make butter had left a kind of sink in the wood. In fact, there were a lot of small sinks; you could see where thumbs and fingers had sunk into the wood. It was beautiful light yellow wood, from a tree that grew in the yard where Big Dee and Stash had lived.

[15] 她把搅乳棒包起来，棒柄露在了外头。我用双手握了握棒柄。甚至不需细看，就可以看到做黄油时手握棒柄上下搅动在木头上留下的某种凹痕。其实，柄上有很多这样的小凹痕，可以看到嵌入木中的大拇指和其他手指的印痕。木头很漂亮，呈浅黄色，取自大迪伊和斯塔什住过的院里的一棵树。

[16]After dinner Dee (Wangero) went to the trunk at the foot of my bed and started rifling through it. Maggie hung backin the kitchen over the dishpan. Out came Wangero with two quilts. They had been pieced by Grandma Dee and then Big Dee and me had hung them on the quilt frames on the front porch and quilted them. One was in the Lone Star pattern. The other was Walk Around the Mountain. In both of them were scraps of dresses Grandma Dee had wornfifty and more years ago. Bits and pieces of Grandpa Jarrell’s Paisley shirts. And one teeny faded blue piece, about the size of a penny matchbox, that was from Great Grandpa Ezra's uniform that he wore in the Civil War.

[16] 晚饭后，迪伊/万杰萝走到我床尾的箱子那儿，开始翻找起来。玛吉磨磨蹭蹭地待在厨房洗碗碟。万杰萝抱着两床被子出来了，这两床被子是迪伊外婆用小布块拼的图案，然后由我和大迪伊挂在房前走廊的被子架上缝成的。一床图案是“孤星”，另外一床是“环山而行”。两床被子都有布块来自迪伊外婆50多年前穿过的衣服，一些零散碎片来自贾雷尔外公的佩斯利印花衬衫，还有一小块褪色的蓝布片，大小相当于一个小火柴盒，那是从埃兹拉曾外公内战时穿的军服上拆下来的。

[17]“Mama,” Wanegro said sweet as a bird. “Can I have these old quilts?”

I heard something fall in the kitchen, and a minute later the kitchen door slammed.

“Why don’t you take one or two of the others?” I asked. “These old things was just done by me and Big Dee from some tops your grandma pieced before she died.”

“No,” said Wangero. “I don't want those. They are stitched around the borders bymachine.”

[17] “妈妈，”万杰萝的声音像小鸟一样甜美，“我能拿走这些旧被子吗？”

我听到厨房里有什么东西掉了，紧接着，又听到厨房门“砰”地关上了。

“你干吗不拿一两床别的被子？”我问，“这两床旧东西还是你外婆去世之前拼好被面，我和大迪伊做的。”

“不，”万杰萝说，“我不想要那些，它们的边线是用机器缝的。”

[18]“That’ll make them last better,” I said.

“That’s not the point,” said Wangero. “These are all pieces of dresses Grandma used to wear. She did all this stitching by hand. Imagine!” She held the quilts securely in her arms,stroking them.

“Some of the pieces, like those lavender ones, come from old clothes her mother handed down to her,” I said, moving up to touch the quilts. Dee (Wangero) moved back just enough so that I couldn’t reach the quilts. They already belonged to her.

[18] “机器缝的更耐用啊。”我说。

“耐用不是关键，”万杰萝说，“这些布片都是外婆曾经穿过的衣服，全是她自己一针一针缝起来的。想想看！”她把被子紧紧抱在怀中，轻轻抚摸。

“其中一些布片，像那些薰衣草颜色的布片，还是来自她母亲传给她的旧衣服。”我说着，走上前去摸被子。迪伊/万杰萝往后退，让我刚好够不着。那两床被子已经属于她了。

[19]“Imagine!” she breathed again, clutching them closely to her bosom.

“The truth is,” I said, “I promised to give themquilts to Maggie, for when she marries John Thomas.”

She gasped like a bee had stung her.

“Maggie can’t appreciate these quilts!” she said. “She’d probably be backward enough to put them to everyday use.”

[19] “想想看！”她又轻声道，把被子紧紧抱在胸前。

“说实话，”我说，“我已经答应把被子给玛吉了，在她嫁给约翰·托马斯的时候当嫁妆。”

她倒吸口气，像被蜜蜂蛰了一下。

“玛吉不会珍惜这些被子！”她说，“她很可能笨到把它们当成生活用品。”

[20]“I reckon she would,” I said. “God knows I been saving’em for long enough with nobody using ’em. I hope she will!” I didn’t want to bring up how I had offered Dee (Wangero) a quilt when she went away to college. Then she had told they were old-fashioned, out of style.

[20] “我想她会的，”我说，“天晓得我把它们放了多久，一直都没人用。我希望她用！”我不想提这事：当初迪伊离家上大学时，我给过她一床被子，而她说它们是老古董，过时货。

[21] “But they’re priceless!” she was saying now, furiously; for she has a temper. “Maggie would put them on the bed and in five years they’d be in rags. Less than that!”

“She can always make some more,” I said. “Maggie knows how to quilt.”

Dee (Wangero) looked at me with hatred. “You just will not understand. The point is these quilts, thesequilts!”

[21] “可它们是无价之宝！”这会儿她说，样子很是气愤，她可是有脾气的，“玛吉会把它们铺在床上，五年后它们就会变成破布。甚至都用不了五年！”

“破了，她可以再做，”我说，“玛吉知道怎么缝被子。”

迪伊（万杰萝）憎恨地看着我。“你根本不会明白。关键的是这些被子，这些被子！”

[22]“Well,” I said, stumped. “What would you do with them?”

“Hang them,” she said. As if that was the only thing you coulddo with quilts.

Maggie by now was standing in the door. I could almost hear the sound her feet made as they scraped over each other.

“She can have them, Mama,” she said, like somebody used to never winning anything, or having anything reserved for her. “I can’member Grandma Dee without the quilts.”

[22] “那么，”我说，一时没反应过来，“你打算拿它们干什么呢？”

“挂起来。”她说，那口气好像被子只能用来挂着。

玛吉这时正站在门口，我几乎可以听到她双脚互相磨蹭发出的声音。

“给她吧，妈妈，”她说，那样子就像从没赢得过什么，也从没有过什么是留给她的，“没有这些被子，我也记得迪伊外婆。”

[23]I looked at her hard. She had filled her bottom lip with checkerberry snuff and gave her face a kind of dopey, hangdog look. It was Grandma Dee and Big Dee who taught her how to quilt herself. She stood there with her scarred hands hidden in the folds of her skirt. She looked at her sister with something like fear but she wasn’t mad at her. This was Maggie’s portion. This was the way she knew God to work.

[23] 我使劲盯着她。她的下嘴唇沾满了鹿蹄草烟粉，让她的脸带着一丝迷糊和愧色。她能自己缝被子，是迪伊外婆和大迪伊教会的。她站在那儿，将有疤的双手藏在裙褶中。她有些胆怯地望着姐姐，却没有对她生气。这就是玛吉的命，她知道上帝就是这样安排的。

[24] When I looked at her like that something hit me in the top of my head and ran down to the soles of my feet. Just like when I’m in church and the spirit of God touches me and I get happy and shout. I did something I never done before: hugged Maggie to me, then dragged her on into the room, snatched the quilts out of Miss Wangero’s hands and dumped them into Maggie’s lap. Maggie just sat there on my bed with her mouth open.

[24] 我这样看着她时，突然感到被什么东西击中头顶，直透脚底。那感觉就像我在教堂，受到圣灵的触摸，让我欣喜，让我呐喊。于是，我做了件以前从未做过的事：我搂过玛吉，把她拉进房里，从万杰萝小姐手中一把夺过被子，扔到玛吉的腿上。玛吉张着嘴，愣坐在我床上。

[25]“Take one or two of the others,”I said to Dee.

But she turned without a word and went out to Hakim-a-barber.

“You just don’t understand,” she said, as Maggie and I came out to the car.

“What don’t I understand?” I wanted to know.

“Your heritage,” she said, and then she turned to Maggie, kissed her, and said, “You ought to try to make something of yourself, too, Maggie. It’s really a new day for us. But from the way you and Mama still live you’d never know it.”

[25]“你拿一两床别的被子走。”我对迪伊说。

但她一言不发，转身出门，朝哈基姆-理发师走去。

当我和玛吉出来走向汽车时，她说：“你根本不懂。”

“我不懂什么？”我想知道。

“你的遗产。”迪伊说，然后转向玛吉，吻了吻她，“玛吉，你也应该有所作为。对我们来说，这真是个新时代。但你和妈妈还是按老样子生活，就冲这个，你们永远也不会懂。”

[26]She put on some sunglasses that hid everything above the tip of her nose and chin.

Maggie smiled; maybe at the sunglasses. But a real smile, not scared. After we watched the car dust settle I asked Maggie to bring me a dip of snuff. And then the two of us sat there just enjoying, until it was time to go in the house and go to bed.

[26] 她戴上太阳镜，把鼻尖和下巴以上的面孔全部遮住了。

玛吉笑了，也许是在笑那太阳镜，但这是发自内心的笑，而不是害怕。我们目送汽车远去，待扬起的灰尘消失殆尽，我让玛吉给我拿点烟粉来。然后，我们娘儿俩坐在那儿慢慢享受，直到夜色已深，该进屋睡觉了。返回搜狐，查看更多