。米德
W。W。Meade
OnewintereveningasIsatreading,myyoungson,Luke,aroachedmychairinshysilence。Hestoodjustoutsidethehalf-moonoflightmadebyanoldbrassstudentlamIcherish。Itoncelightedmydoctorfathersofficedesk。
Inthosedays,LukelikedtoaroachmewithhismostseriousroblemswhenIwasreading。Theyearbefore,hedidthiswheneverIwasworkinginthegarden。Perhas,hefeltmostateasewithdifficultieswhenIwasdoingwhathewasgettingreadytodo。Whenhewasinterestedingrowingthings,helearnedtolantseedsandleavetheminthegroundinsteadofdiggingthemutheverynextmorningtoseeiftheyhadgrown。Nowhewasbeginningtoreadtohimself-althoughhewouldntadmittomethathecoulddothat。
Ilookedufrommyaer,andhegavemehiswide-oengrin。Thenhisexressionturnedabrutlyserious,anot-too-flatteringimitationofme。“Ibrokemysaw,”hesaid,withdrawingthetoyfrombehindhisback。“Here。”
HedidntaskifIcouldfixit。HistrustthatIcouldwasacomlimentfromasmallboytothemiraclefixeroftricycles,wagonsandassortedtoys。Thesawsbluelastichandlehadsnaed。Myfather,whotreasuredthetoolsofallrofessions,wouldnothavearovedofalastic-handledsaw。
Isaid,“Thereareiecesmissing。Doyouhavethem?”
Heoenedhisclenchedfisttorevealtheremainingfragments。Ididnotseehowthesawcouldberoerlymended。
Hewatchedmeintently,hisexressionrevealingabsoluteconfidencethatIcoulddoanything。Thatlookstirredmemories。Iexaminedthesawwithgreatcare,turningoverthebrokeniecesinmyhandsasIturnedovertheastinmymind。
WhenIwasseven,IdgonetomyfathersofficeafterschooloneNovemberday。MyfatherwasclearlythebestdoctorwithinathousandmilesofthesmallOhioRivertownwherewelived。Healwaysastonishedme-andhisatients-bythethingshecoulddo。Hecouldnotonlyhealwhateverwasthematterwithanyone,buthecouldalsobreakahorse,carveatoandslidedownLongHillonmysled,standingu!Ilikedtohangaroundhiswaitingroomandheareolecallme“littleDoc”,andIlikedthewayhisatientsalwayslookedbetterwhentheylefthisoffice。
Butonthisday,whenIwasseven,myurosewastoseemybestfriend,JimmyHardesty。Hehadntbeeninschoolforthreedays,andhismotherhadsentwordtomyfathersnursethatshejustmightbringJimmyintoseethedoctortoday。
Whenthelastoftheafternoonsatientshadgone,Jimmyhadstillnotarrived。MyfatherandIthenwentofftomakehousecalls。Helikedtohavemewithhim,becausehelikedtotellstorieswhenhedrove。Itwasnearlysevenwhenwefinished。Aswestartedhome,myfathersaidsuddenly,“LetsgouandcheckonoldJimmy。”Ifeltsquirmywithgratitude,certainthatmyfatherwasdoingthisjusttoleaseme。Butwhenwecameinsightoftheoldgraystonehouse,therewasalightintheustairsbackwindowandanotheronthebackorch-theancientbeaconsoftrouble。
Myfatherulledthecarrightintothedooryard。Alice,Jimmysoldersister,camerunningoutofthehouseandthrewherarmsaroundmyfather,cryingandshakingandtryingtotalk。“Oh,Doc。Jimmysdying!Dadschasingalloverthecountylookingforyou。Thankgoodnessyourehere。”
Myfatherneverran。Heusedtosaytherewasnogoodreasontohurry。Ifyouhadtohurry,itwastoolate。ButhetoldAlicetoletgoofhim,andheranthen。Ifollowedthemthroughtheyeasty-smellingkitchenanduthenarrow,darkhallstairs。Jimmywasbreathingveryfastandmadeahigh,airysound。Hehadmoundsofquiltsiledoverhim,sothatIcouldbarelyseehisfaceintheflickeringlightofthekerosenelams。Helookedallwornoutandhisskinglistened。
Hismothersaid,“Oh,Doc。Helus。Itwasjustalittlecold,thenthisafternoonhestartedthisterriblesweat。”
IhadneverseenJimmysmotherwithoutanarononbefore。Shestoodbehindme,bothherhandsonmyshoulders,asmyfatherlistenedtoJimmyschest。Hefixedahyodermicandheldtheneedleutothelight。Iwascertainthatitwasthemiracleweallmusthave。MyfathergaveJimmytheshot。HethengotagauzeadfromhisblackcaseandutitoverJimmysmouth。Hebentoverhimandbegantobreathewithhim。NoonemovedinthatroomandtherewasnoothersoundexcetthesteadyushingofmyfathersbreathandJimmyshigh,wheezingresonse。
Thensuddenlyaslightning,therewastheawfulsoundofmyfathersbreathingalone。Ifelthismothershandstightenonmyshouldersandknew,assheknew,thatsomethinghadsnaed。ButmyfatherketonbreathingintoJimmyslungs。Afteralongtime,Mrs。Hardestywentovertothebed,utherhandonmyfathersarmandsaid,veryquietly,“Hesgone,Doe。Comeaway。Myboysnotwithusanymore。”Butmyfatherwouldnotmove。
Mrs。Hardestytookmebythehandthen,andwewentdowntothekitchen。ShesatinarockerandAlice,lookingasforlornasIveeverseenanybodylook,threwherselfonhermothersla。Iwentoutontotheorchandsatdownonthetosteinthecolddarkness。Iwantednoonetoseeorhearme。
WhenMr。Hardestycamebackandsawourcar,hewentintothehouseandinawhileIcouldhearvoices。Thensilence,thenvoicesagain。Atlastmyfathercameoutside,andIfollowedhimtothecar。Allthelonelywayintotown,hesaidnothingtome。AndIcouldnotrisksayinganythingtohim。TheworldIthoughtIknewlaysunderedinmyheart。Wedidntgohome。Wewenttohisofficeinstead。Hebegangoingthroughhisbooks,lookingforsomethinghemighthavedone。Iwantedtostohim,butIdidntknowhow。Icouldntimaginehowthenightwouldend。Fromtimetotime,allunwilling,Iwouldbegintocryagain。Finally,Iheardsomeoneatthedoorandwentoutthroughtherecetionroom,gratefultowhomeveritmightbe。Newsofthebeginningsandendingsoflifetraveledfarandfastinacommunitylikeours。Mymotherhadcomeforus。
Shekneltdown,huggedme,rubbedthebackofmyhead,andIclungtoher,asIhadnotdonesinceIwasababy。“Oh,Mama,whycouldnthe,whycouldnthe?”Iwetandlaymyheadagainsthershoulder。SherubbedmybackuntilIwasquiet。Thenshesaid,“Yourfatherisbiggerthanyouare,buthessmallerthanlife。Welovehimforwhathecando;wedontlovehimlessforwhathecant。Loveaccetswhatitfinds,nomatterwhat。”
EventhoughImnotcertainIunderstoodwhatshemeant,IknowIfelttheimortanceofwhatshesaid。Thenshewentintogetmyfather。ThatwinterseemedtohavegoneonforeverwhenIlivedthroughitlongago,butthememorylayeditoutinseconds。
IsatturningovertheiecesofLukesbrokentoy。Isaidtohim,“Icantfixit。”
“Sureyoucan。”
“No,Icant。Imsorry。”
Helookedatme,andtheexressionofawesomeconfidencefaded。Hislowerlitrembled,andhefoughthistearsevenastheycame。
Iulledhimonmyla,andcomfortedhimasbestIcouldinhissorrowoverhisbrokentoyandhisfallenidol。Graduallyhiscryingsubsided。Iwascertainhesensedmymelancholyatseeingmyselfonlyanordinarymortalinhiseyes,becausehestayednestledagainstmeforquiteatime,hisarmaboutmyneck。
Ashelefttheroom,givingmeadirectandfriendlylook,Icouldhearmymothersvoicetellingmeinhercertainwaythatlovewasnotconditional。Oncetheson,nowthefather。Iknewabsolutelythatoutoftheanguishofthatdiscoverycamethefirstfaintlightofunderstanding。
一个冬天的傍晚,我坐着看报纸的时候,小儿子卢克怯生生地来到我的身旁。他就站在那盏古铜灯照射出的半月形灯光外。我很珍爱那盏灯,它曾在我做医生的父亲的办公桌上亮着。
那段时间里,卢克喜欢在我读书的时候来到我的身边,向我询问他的最严肃的问题。而在去年,当我在花园里工作的时候,他也会这样找我问问题。或许他觉得我们一起做事情时,找我解决问题最容易吧。当他对种植感兴趣时,他知道要将种子埋在地下,而不是每天早上把它们挖出来,看看种子是否长大了。现在,尽管他不肯向我承认,但是卢克的确可以开始自己看书了。
我从报纸中抬起头来,卢克给了我一个大大的微笑。接下来,他的表情突然变得严肃起来,这是模仿我的一个不大招人喜欢的举动。他说:“我把我的锯条弄折了。”说着从背后拿出那只玩具递给我,“您看。”
他没有问我能不能把它修好。他相信我能,这种信任,是一个小男孩对一位神奇的三轮车、货车和各种玩具修理师的赞美。那把玩具锯的蓝色塑料柄断了。我的父亲很珍惜各种职业用的工具,他是不会同意买一把塑料柄的锯的。
我对儿子说:“锯上的一些零件不见了,在你那里吗?”
他张开紧握拳头,摊出握在手中的剩余碎片给我看。我不知道怎样能把这把锯修理好。
他认真地看着我,他的表情显示出一种对我无所不能的绝对信任,搅动了我的记忆。我极其用心地察看了他的锯,在手中翻看着那些碎片,也在脑海中翻动着对过去的记忆。
七岁那年11月里的一天,我放学后去了爸爸的办公室。显然,父亲是我们所居住的俄亥俄河镇方圆一千英里之内最好的医生。他所做的每件力所能及的事,总是让我和他的病人感到惊讶。父亲不仅能治愈人们的疾病,还能驯服烈马,能在我的雪橇上雕刻出长山的山顶和山脉曲线。他太棒了!我喜欢在他的候诊室里逗留,喜欢听人们喊我“小医生”,我还喜欢看到他的病人从他的办公室离开时气色有了转变。
然而,在我七岁的这一天,我本来是去看望我最好的朋友吉米·哈德斯蒂的。他已经有三天没去上学了,他的母亲对我父亲的护士说,今天有可能带吉米来看病。
当下午最后的一位病人也离开的时候,吉米还是没有来。于是,我便跟父亲一起外出应诊了。父亲愿意我跟着他,因为他开车的时候喜欢给我讲故事。应完诊时已将近七点。我们出发要回家时,父亲突然对我说:“我们去看看你的老朋友吉米吧。”父亲这样做,只是为了让我高兴,我对他充满了感激。但是当那所破旧的灰色石房进入视线时,我们看到楼上的窗子后面和后面的走廊都亮着灯。这是报告遇到麻烦的古老的信号。
父亲把车一直开到了前院。吉米的姐姐艾丽丝从房间里跑出来,抱住了父亲。她全身颤抖地哭泣着,还尽力哭诉道:“医生,吉米快要死了!我父亲正满村子找你。谢天谢地,你来了。”
父亲从来没有快跑过。他过去常说,没有必要急急忙忙的。如果你赶时间了,事实上事情已经来不及了。然而,父亲让艾丽丝放开他,让他跑进去。我跟随父亲穿过有发酵气味的厨房,走上狭窄、黑暗的走廊台阶。吉米的呼吸很急促,“吁吁”的声音很响。他身上盖着好几床被子,以至于在煤油灯闪烁的灯光中,我几乎看不到他的脸。他看上去筋疲力尽,脸色也憔悴不堪。
他的母亲对我父亲说:“医生,快帮帮我们。他原本只是得了小感冒,在今天下午开始大量地出汗。”