4. Liân koh-lâi góa to chò bē-kàu
Chi̍t-ê Filipin hō͘-sū neh-kha neh-chhiú ji̍p-lâi, kā yi chù-siā. Hō͘-sū kā chhn̂g-piⁿ-kūi téng ê hit-tui ki-á-peng kut chheng tiāu -- hiah-ê í-keng ū-kàu iōng lâi pa̍k chi̍t-chiah sió tōng-bu̍t.
Chù-siā liáu goán lóng khí ài-khùn. Góa khùn-khì.
Góa bāng tio̍h yi sī chi̍t-ê chong-hông sai-hū, lâi chong-hông goán tau. Yi thau-thau-á kang-chok, ná chò ná ka-tī chhiùⁿ-koa. Chò hó-sè liáu, yi chin tek-ì chhōa góa kàu mn̂g-kha-kháu. "Án-ne lí ū kah-ì bô?" yi mn̄g, khin-khin sak góa ji̍p-khì.
Múi chi̍t-ki êⁿ-á, thang-tâi, kè-á, mn̂g-pèⁿ lóng kòa hoaⁿ-hí ê chhái-kî, bêng-liāng ê kiàⁿ lóng tī sì chiu-ûi khan hún-sek chhái-tòa.
*
"Góa tio̍h tńg chhù," yi chhéⁿ lâi ê sî, góa án-ne kóng.
Yi kiò-sī góa kóng ê chhù sī chí tī Canyon ê yin tau, góa soah tio̍h kā kóng, M̄-sī, sī goán tau. Góa kō͘ lâng teh kan-khó͘ ê sî só͘ iōng ê kó͘-chá hong-sek, ngiú-tāng góa ê siang-chhiú. Góa eng-kai tio̍h tah-èng yi chi̍t-kóa siáⁿ. Tē-it-hó Pêng-iú. Góa liân tah-èng koh-lâi khòaⁿ yi to chò bē-kàu.
Góa kám-kak chin hi, chin sè, chin sit-pāi.
Mā chin thiòng.
Góa ū chi̍t-tâi hian-kòa-chhia tī thêng-chhia-tiûⁿ. Chi̍t-ē chhut hit-ê pâng-keng, góa tō ē sái kín chhia lo̍h chhiong-móa mô͘-hē-bī ê Hái-hōaⁿ kong-lō͘. Tī Malibu thêng-khùn, lim chi̍t-ē-á sangria khì-chiú. Hia ê im-ga̍k sexy /seksi/ (sèng-kám) koh tōa-siaⁿ. In mā ū thê-kiong bo̍k-koe, hê-á, kap si-koe chiap. Àm-tǹg liáu, góa tō ē hoat io̍k-bōng ê àm-kng, hiⁿ jia̍t koh oa̍h ê siaⁿ-tiāu, tio̍h kui-mê m̄-bián khùn.
*
Bô kóng bô tàⁿ, yi kā chhùi-am giú tiāu, hiat tī thô͘-kha.
Yi that khui thán-á, cháu hiòng mn̂g. Yi tiāⁿ-tio̍h chin khì, tio̍h thêng-khùn hioh-chhoán, khiā chāi, chiah chông chhut Keh-lī Pēⁿ-pâng, chhut lēng-gōa hit-keng, its tī hia chheng-kiat koh kòa pe̍h chhùi-am ê hit-keng.
Ū chi̍t-ê hiu yi ê miâ ê tio̍h-kiaⁿ siaⁿ, ū lâng tī cháu-lông cháu. Hó I-seng chiap-tio̍h lāi-pō͘ thong-sìn ê hiu-kiò. Góa khui-mn̂g chhut-khì, chām-tâi ê hō͘-sū kim-kim kā góa gîn, bē-su sī kóng, yi ê tô-cháu sī góa ê chú-ì.
"Yi tī tó-ūi?" góa mn̄g, yin kō͘ thâu pí ǹg kiong-èng-sek.
Góa khòaⁿ ji̍p-khì. Nn̄g-ê hō͘-sū kūi tī tē-pán, tī yi ê sin-piⁿ, khin-siaⁿ sè-soeh kap yi kóng-ōe. Kî-tiong chi̍t-ê kō͘ chhùi-am am yi ê phīⁿ kap chhùi, lēng-gōa hit-ê tī yi ê kha-chiah-phiaⁿ bān-bān se̍h kho͘-á kā so. Hō͘-sū gia̍h-ba̍k khòaⁿ góa kám sī i-seng -- khak-tēng góa m̄-sī, tō kè-sio̍k yin ê tāi-chì.
"Hó ah, hó ah, koai-koai," yin án-ne kā sioh.
*
Yi hông sóa khì bōng-hn̂g hit chá-khí, its Al Jolson* tâi ê hit-ê bōng-hn̂g, góa pò-miâ chham-ka "Kiaⁿ Poe" ê khò-têng. [* Al Jolson: chhut-miâ ê koa-chheⁿ]
"Lí siōng kiaⁿ ê sī siáⁿ?" kàu-liān mn̄g, góa án-ne kā ìn, "Khò-têng kiat-sok liáu, góa iáu sī kiaⁿ."
*
Góa khùn ê sî, tī chhn̂g-thâu-kūi khǹg chi̍t-poe chúi, án-ne góa ē-tàng khòaⁿ chúi-bīn lâi phòaⁿ-toàn, sī hái-piⁿ ê thó͘-tē teh chùn a̍h sī góa teh chùn.
Góa ē-kì-tit siáⁿ?
Góa kan-ta ē-kì-tit hiah-ê bô lō͘-iōng ê mi̍h-kiāⁿ -- sī Bob Dylan in lāu-bú hoat-bêng Wite-Out*, 23-lâng tiong-kan ū 50% ê ki-hōe ū nn̄g-lâng ê seⁿ-ji̍t sī kāng kang. Siáng ē chhap che sī-m̄-sī chin-ê? Góa ê thâu-khak-óaⁿ ū mô͘-kin pau chit-lō mi̍h-kiāⁿ. Bô kî-thaⁿ ê mi̍h-kiāⁿ sia̍p ē kòe. [* Wite-Out: chi̍t-chióng siu-kái e̍k ê pâi-chú]
Góa koh siūⁿ-khí hiah-ê tī góa koh-kóng ê sî hián-hiān ê sū-hāng: keh chhiú-su̍t se-pò͘ ê chi̍t-ê kiss, tiâu-chéng ké thâu-mo͘ ūi-tì ê pe̍h chhi-chhi ê chhiú. Góa chù-ì tio̍h chiah-ê tōng-chok hoat-seng ê sî ê chu-sè, m̄-bián hoan-thâu khì siūⁿ -- sui-bóng góa m̄-chai, sī án-nóa koh-siūⁿ chóng pí teh khòaⁿ ê sî, hián-sī koh khah chē.
Góa kan-ta ē-tàng kóng, góa ū tī hia tòa kòe chi̍t-àm.
Siáng ē-tàng kóng góa bô neh?
*
Góa siūⁿ-khí hit-chiah o͘ seng-seng, ē-hiáu kō͘ chhiú kóng-ōe hit-chiah.
Tī si̍t-giām kòe-têng tiong-kan, seng-seng seⁿ chi̍t-ê eⁿ-á. Siūⁿ khòaⁿ māi, kàu-liān ē gōa hoaⁿ-hí, hoat-hiān bián lâng àm-sī, lāu-bú tō khai-sí kap eⁿ-á pí chhiú-sè ah.
Bebi, lâi suh ne-ne.
Bebi, lâi sńg kiû.
Hit-ê eⁿ-á sí khì ê sî, lāu-bú khiā tī sí-thé piⁿ-á, kō͘ jiâu-jiâu ê siang-chhiú, chhiong-móa tōng-bu̍t ê iu-ngá, chi̍t-kái koh chi̍t-kái pí chhut chiah-ê ōe: Bebi, lâi góa phō, lâi góa phō, che siong-sim ê ōe taⁿ kóng kah chin liàn-tńg.
*
hiàn hō͘ Jessica Wolfson
[Soah]
- -
4. 連 koh 來我 to 做袂到
一个 Filipin 護士躡跤躡手入來, kā 她注射. 護士 kā 床邊櫃頂 ê 彼堆枝仔冰骨清掉 -- hiah-ê 已經有夠用來縛一隻小動物.
注射了阮 lóng 起愛睏. 我睏去.
我夢著她是一个裝潢師傅, 來裝潢阮兜. 她偷偷仔工作, ná 做 ná ka-tī 唱歌. 做好勢了, 她真得意 chhōa 我到門跤口. "Án-ne 你有佮意無?" 她問, 輕輕捒我入去.
每一支楹仔, 窗台, 架仔, 門柄 lóng 掛歡喜 ê 彩旗, 明亮 ê 鏡 lóng tī 四周圍牽粉色彩帶.
*
"我著轉厝," 她醒來 ê 時, 我 án-ne 講.
她叫是我講 ê 厝是指 tī Canyon ê 姻兜, 我煞著 kā 講, 毋是, 是阮兜. 我 kō͘ 人 teh 艱苦 ê 時所用 ê 古早方式, 扭動我 ê 雙手. 我應該著答應她一寡啥. 第一好朋友. 我連答應 koh 來看她 to 做袂到.
我感覺真虛, 真細, 真失敗.
Mā 真暢.
我有一台掀蓋車 tī 停車場. 一下出彼个房間, 我 tō 會駛緊車落充滿毛蟹味 ê 海岸公路. Tī Malibu 停睏, 啉一下仔 sangria 汽酒. Hia ê 音樂 sexy /seksi/ (性感) koh 大聲. In mā 有提供木瓜, 蝦仔, kap 西瓜汁. 暗頓了, 我 tō 會發慾望 ê 暗光, hiⁿ 熱 koh 活 ê 聲調, 著規暝毋免睏.
*
無講無呾, 她 kā 喙掩搝掉, 㧒 tī 塗跤.
她踢開毯仔, 走向門. 她定著真氣, 著停睏歇喘, 徛在, 才傱出隔離病房, 出另外彼間, its tī hia 清潔 koh 掛白喙掩 ê 彼間.
有一个咻她 ê 名 ê 著驚聲, 有人 tī 走廊走. '好醫生' 接著內部通信 ê 咻叫. 我開門出去, 站台 ê 護士金金 kā 我 gîn, 袂輸是講, 她 ê 逃走是我 ê 主意.
"她 tī 佗位?" 我問, 姻 kō͘ 頭比 ǹg 供應室.
我看入去. 兩个護士跪 tī 地板, tī 她 ê 身邊, 輕聲細說 kap 她講話. 其中一个 kō͘ 喙掩掩她 ê 鼻 kap 喙, 另外彼个 tī 她 ê 尻脊骿慢慢踅箍仔 kā 挲. 護士攑目看我敢是醫生 -- 確定我毋是, tō 繼續姻 ê 代誌.
"好 ah, 好 ah, 乖乖," 姻 án-ne kā 惜.
*
她 hông 徙去墓園彼早起, its Al Jolson* 埋 ê 彼个墓園, 我報名參加 "驚飛" ê 課程. [* Al Jolson: 出名 ê 歌星]
"你上驚 ê 是啥?" 教練問, 我 án-ne kā 應, "課程結束了, 我猶是驚."
*
我睏 ê 時, tī 床頭櫃囥一杯水, án-ne 我會當看水面來判斷, 是海邊 ê 土地 teh 顫 a̍h 是我 teh 顫.
我會記得啥?
我干焦會記得 hiah-ê 無路用 ê 物件 -- 是 Bob Dylan in 老母發明 Wite-Out*, 23 人中間有 50% ê 機會有兩人 ê 生日是仝工. Siáng 會 chhap 這是毋是真 ê? 我 ê 頭殼碗有毛巾包 chit-lō 物件. 無其他 ê 物件洩會過. [* Wite-Out: 一種修改液 ê 牌子]
我 koh 想起 hiah-ê tī 我 koh 講 ê 時顯現 ê 事項: 隔手術紗布 ê 一个 kiss, 調整假頭毛位置 ê 白 chhi-chhi ê 手. 我注意著 chiah-ê 動作發生 ê 時 ê 姿勢, 毋免翻頭去想 -- 雖罔我毋知, 是 án-nóa koh 想總比 teh 看 ê 時, 顯示 koh 較濟.
我干焦會當講, 我有 tī hia 蹛過一暗.
Siáng 會當講我無 neh?
*
我想起彼隻烏猩猩, 會曉 kō͘ 手講話彼隻.
Tī 實驗過程中間, 猩猩生一个嬰仔. 想看覓, 教練會偌歡喜, 發現免人暗示, 老母 tō 開始 kap 嬰仔比手勢 ah.
Bebi, 來欶 ne-ne.
Bebi, 來耍球.
彼个嬰仔死去 ê 時, 老母徛 tī 死體邊仔, kō͘ 皺皺 ê 雙手, 充滿動物 ê 優雅, 一改 koh 一改比出 chiah-ê 話: Bebi, 來我抱, 來我抱, 這傷心 ê 話今講 kah 真輾轉.
*
獻予 Jessica Wolfson
[煞]
- -
4.
A Filipino nurse tiptoed in and gave her an injection. The nurse removed the pile of popsicle sticks from the nightstand—enough to splint a small animal.
The injection made us both sleepy. We slept.
I dreamed she was a decorator, come to furnish my house. She worked in secret, singing to herself. When she finished, she guided me proudly to the door. "How do you like it?" she asked, easing me inside.
Every beam and sill and shelf and knob was draped in gay bunting, with streamers of pastel crepe looped around bright mirrors.
*
"I have to go home," I said when she woke up.
She thought I meant home to her house in the Canyon, and I had to say No, home home. I twisted my hands in the time-honored fashion of people in pain. I was supposed to offer something. The Best Friend. I could not even offer to come back.
I felt weak and small and failed.
Also exhilarated.
I had a convertible in the parking lot. Once out of that room, I would drive it too fast down the Coast highway through the crabsmelling air. A stop in Malibu for sangria. The music in the place would be sexy and loud. They'd serve papaya and shrimp and watermelon ice. After dinner I would shimmer with lust, buzz with heat, life, and stay up all night.
*
Without a word, she yanked off her mask and threw it on the floor.
She kicked at the blankets and moved to the door. She must have hated having to pause for breath and balance before slamming out of Isolation, and out of the second room, the one where you scrub and tie on the white masks.
A voice shouted her name in alarm, and people ran down the corridor. The Good Doctor was paged over the intercom. I opened the door and the nurses at the station stared hard, as if this flight had been my idea.
"Where is she?" I asked, and they nodded to the supply closet.
I looked in. Two nurses were kneeling beside her on the floor, talking to her in low voices. One held a mask over her nose and mouth, the other rubbed her back in slow circles. The nurses glanced up to see if I was the doctor—and when I wasn't, they went back to what they were doing.
"There, there, honey," they cooed.
*
On the the morning she was moved to the cemetery, the one where Al Jolson is buried, I enrolled in a "Fear of Flying" class.
"What is your worst fear?" the instructor asked, and I answered, "That I will finish this course and still be afraid."
*
I sleep with a glass of water on the nightstand so I can see by its level if the coastal earth is trembling or if the shaking is still me.
What do I remember?
I remember only the useless things I hear—that Bob Dylan's mother invented Wite-Out, that twenty-three people must be in a room before there is a fifty-fifty chance two will have the same birthday. Who cares whether or not it's true? In my head there are bath towels swaddling this stuff. Nothing else seeps through.
I review those things that will figure in the retelling: a kiss through surgical gauze, the pale hand correcting the position of the wig. I noted these gestures as they happened, not in any retrospect—though I don't know why looking back should show us more than looking at.
It is just possible I will say I stayed the night.
And who is there that can say that I did not?
*
I think of the chimp, the one with the talking hands.
In the course of the experiment, that chimp had a baby. Imagine how her trainers must have thrilled when the mother, without prompting, began to sign to her newborn.
Baby, drink milk.
Baby, play ball.
And when the baby died, the mother stood over the body, her wrinkled hands moving with animal grace, forming again and again the words: Baby, come hug, Baby, come hug, fluent now in the language of grief.
*
for Jessica Wolfson
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