Today I’ve been drinking instant coffee and Pet milk, and watching it snow. It’s not that I enjoy the taste especially, but I like the way Pet milk swirls in the coffee. Pet milk isn’t real milk. The colour’s off, to start with. There’s almost something of the past about it, like old ivory.

今天我一直在一邊喝著加了皮特牛奶的速溶咖啡，一邊欣賞著外面的雪景。并不是因為我特別喜歡這種牛奶加咖啡的味道，而是我很享受皮特牛奶在咖啡中卷起漩渦的那種感覺。皮特牛奶不是真正的牛奶。首先它跟普通牛奶的顏色不一樣，它的色澤猶如古老的象牙，讓人們不禁想起那過去的歲月。

My grandmother always drank it in her coffee. When friends dropped over and sat around the kitchen table, my grandma would ask, “Do you take cream and sugar?” Pet milk was the cream. I remember how often times, I would be watching the Pet milk swirl and cloud in my steaming coffee, and how I would notice, outside her window, the sky doing the same thing above the railroad yard across the street.

我的祖母總是把皮特牛奶放在咖啡里一起喝。當有朋友來祖母家串門，圍坐在餐桌旁時，祖母總會這樣問道：“你們要在咖啡里加奶油和糖嗎？”皮特牛奶就是奶油。我記得，那時候經常會出現這樣的一幕：我看著皮特牛奶在熱氣騰騰的咖啡中，像云朵一樣盤繞著、翻滾著，然后我望向祖母家的窗外，注視著街對過火車調車場上空的云朵，像咖啡中的皮特牛奶一樣盤繞著、翻滾著。

And I remember, much later, seeing the same swirling sky in tiny liqueur glasses containing a drink called a King Alphonse: the crème de cacao rising like smoke, like clouds through the layer of heavy cream. This was in the Pilsen, a little Czech restaurant where my girlfriend, Kate, and I would go sometimes in the evening. It was the first year out of college for both of us, and we had astonished ourselves by finding real jobs-no more waitressing or pumping gas, the way we’d done in school.

我還記得，又過了很長時間，我在盛著一種名為“King Alphonse”的飲品的酒杯中再次看到了那種風起云涌：可可甜酒像煙霧一樣升起，像云朵一樣穿過厚厚的奶油層。那是在一家名叫皮爾森的不大的捷克餐廳。當時，我跟女友凱特晚上會時不時過去坐坐。那是我倆大學畢業后的第一年。我們還在為能夠找到真正意義上的工作而興奮不已——再也不用像在學校里那樣做些餐廳服務員或加油站加油工的工作。

I was investigating credit references at a bank, and she was doing something slightly above the rank of typist for Hornblower & Weeks, the investment firm. Kate and I would sometimes meet after work at the Pilsen, dressed in our proper business clothes and still feeling both a little self-conscious and glamorous, as if we were impostors wearing disguises. We’d sit in a corner under a painting called “The Street Musicians of Prague” and trade future plans as if they were escape routes.

我當時在一家銀行負責信用備咨調查工作，她在一家名叫Hornblower & Weeks的投資公司做一些略高于打字員級別的事情。我和凱特有時會在下班后，身穿筆挺的工裝在皮爾森餐廳見面。當時，我們還會覺得多少有些難為情，也會覺得自己挺有魅力的，好像我們的這身行頭跟自己并不是太搭。我們總會坐在一幅名為“布拉格街頭音樂家”的畫作下面的角落里，交流著我們未來能夠出人頭地的宏偉計劃。

She talked of going to grad school in Europe; I wanted to apply to the Peace Corps. Our plans for the future made us laugh and feel close, but those same plans somehow made anything more than temporary between us seem impossible. It was the first time I’d ever had the feeling of missing someone I was still with.

她談到要去歐洲讀碩士；我想要申請加入和平工作隊。我們對未來的規劃總是讓我們開懷大笑并感覺很親密，但這樣的規劃在某種程度上使得我們之間的關系似乎很難長久。這是我人生第一次感到將會失去一個本來彼此相依的人。

We went there often enough to have our own special waiter, Rudi, a name he pronounced with a rolled R. Rudi boned our trout and seasoned our salads, and at the end of each meal he’d bring the bottle of crème de cacao from the bar, along with two little glasses and a small pitcher of heavy cream, and make us each a King Alphonse right at our table. If he failed to float the cream, we’d get that one free. He liked us, and we tipped extra. It felt good to be there and to be able to pay for a meal.

我們在那家餐廳通常都會讓我們的專用服務員魯迪為我們上餐，他說自己的名字時帶著明顯的卷舌音。魯迪負責為我們的鱒魚剔骨，以及為我們的沙拉調味。每次進完餐，他都會從吧臺給我們拿來一瓶可可甜酒，外加兩個小玻璃杯和一小罐濃奶油，還會在我們的餐桌上放上兩杯King Alphonse。如果他沒能讓奶油漂浮起來，這杯King Alphonse就免費了。他非常喜歡我們，我們也愿意多給他些小費。在那家餐廳坐一坐，再點兒東西吃的感覺真好。

Kate and I met at the Pilsen for supper on my twenty-second birthday. It was May, and unseasonably hot. I’d opened my tie. Even before looking at the dinner menu, we ordered a bottle of Mumm’s and a dozen oysters apiece. We squeezed on lemon, added dabs of horseradish, slid the oysters into our mouths, and then rinsed the shells with champagne and drank the salty, cold juice. We laughed and grandly sipped it all down.

我22歲生日的那天，我和凱特在皮爾森餐廳共進了晚餐。當時正值五月，天氣卻反常的炎熱。我解開了領帶。甚至都沒看菜單，我們就點了一瓶瑪姆香檳和每人一打牡蠣。我們在牡蠣上擠上一些檸檬，加入少量辣根，然后將牡蠣放入口中，再用香檳沖洗貝殼，喝下咸味的冷汁。我們一邊歡聲笑語，一邊開懷暢飲。

I was already half tipsy from drinking too fast, and starting to feel filled with a euphoric, aching energy. Kate raised a brimming oyster shell to me in a toast: “To the Peace Corps!” “To Europe!” I replied, and we clunked shells. She touched her wineglass to mine and whispered:” Happy birthday”. and then suddenly leaned across the table and kissed me. When she sat down again, she was flushed.

我因為酒喝得太快，已經有了一些醉意，感到內心中充滿了巨大的愉快與無比的酸辛。凱特向我舉起一個滿滿的牡蠣殼：“敬和平工作隊！”“敬歐洲！”我回答說，然后我們將兩個牡蠣殼撞在一起。她用她的酒杯碰了一下我的酒杯，低聲說：“生日快樂”。然后突然靠在桌子上親吻了我。當她再次坐下時，臉已變得紅撲撲的。

I caught the reflection of her face in the glass-covered “The Street Musicians of Prague” above our table. I always loved seeing her in mirrors and windows. The reflections of her beauty startled me. I had told her that once, and she seemed to fend off the compliment, saying, “That’s because you’ve learned what to look for,” as if it were a secret I’d stumbled upon. But, this time, seeing her reflection hovering ghostlike upon an imaginary Prague was like seeing a future from which she had vanished. l knew I’d never meet anyone more beautiful to me.

我注視著餐桌上方那副“布拉格街頭音樂家”畫作的玻璃外框中倒映的她的面頰。我一直很喜歡從鏡子和窗戶看她的倒影。她那美麗的倒影總是讓我覺得無比驚艷。我曾經告訴過她一次，但她似乎避開了恭維，說：“那是因為你知道該去尋找哪些美好的事物。”好像這只不過是我偶然發現的一個秘密。但這一次，我看到她的倒影在想象中的布拉格街頭徘徊時，就如同看到了她消失在未來的某一天。我知道我永遠不會再遇到比她更美麗的女人。

We killed the champagne and sat twining fingers across the table. We still hadn’t ordered dinner. “Let’s go somewhere,” she said. My roommate would already be home at my place, which was closer. Kate lived up north, in Evanston. It seemed a long way away. We walked to the subway. The evening rush was winding down; we must have caught the last express heading toward Evanston. There weren’t any seats together, so we stood swaying at the front of the car, beside the empty conductor’s compartment. We wedged inside, I clicked the door shut, and kissed her again.

我們喝光了香檳，坐在那里，手指彼此握在一起，沒有點餐。“我們出去走走吧。”她說。我家比較近，但是我的室友應該已經到家了。凱特住在北部的埃文斯頓，似乎有點兒遠。我們走到地鐵站。晚高峰時段就快要結束了，我們必須趕上開往埃文斯頓的最后一班車。車上沒有相鄰的空座了，因此我們搖搖晃晃地站在車廂前部，靠近空的售票員室的位置。我們擠進了售票員室，我把門關上，再次親吻了她。

We were speeding past scorched brick walls, grey windows, back porches outlined in sun, roofs, and treetops. Even without looking, I knew almost exactly where we were. The train was braking a little from express speed, as it did each time it passed a local station. I could see blurred faces on the long wooden platform watching us pass-businessmen glancing up from folded newspapers, women clutching purses and shopping bags.

我們以飛快的速度穿越太陽、屋檐和樹梢勾勒出的燒焦的磚墻、灰色的窗戶和黑色的后門廊。不看窗外，我也幾乎完全知道我們到了哪里。車速開始稍稍減慢，跟每次經過車站時一樣。我可以看到長長的木制月臺上一張張模糊的面孔正在注視著我們匆匆而過——商人們眼睛離開正在開著的報紙，抬頭瞥了我們一眼；女人們手里抓著錢包和購物站在那里。

I could see the expression on each face, momentarily arrested, as we flashed by. A high school kid in shirt sleeves, maybe sixteen, with books tucked under one arm and a cigarette in his mouth, caught sight of us, and in the instant before he disappeared he grinned and started to wave. It was as if I were standing on that platform, with my schoolbooks and a smoke, on one of those endlessly accumulated afternoons after school when I stood almost outside of time simply waiting for a train, and I thought how much I’d have loved seeing someone like us streaming by.

我可以看到我們的列車飛速通過時，他們每個人臉上瞬間閃現的表情。一個穿著襯衫袖子的高中生，十六歲左右的樣子，一只胳膊下夾著書本，嘴里叼著一支香煙。他看見了我們，在他消失在我們視線中之前的一剎那，他咧嘴一笑，向我們揮手告別。此情此景，就好像我自己置身于那個月臺上，在每個無盡的午后，手里拿著課本，抽著煙，站在那里，完全忘卻了時間，只是在等待列車的到來。我心想，能看到像我們一樣的陌生人從我們身邊匆匆而過，這種感真的很好。