斗蝗記

I'll never forget the day the grasshoppers came out of the sink. I had filled the day with average things. I had gotten out of bed within two minutes. I had an uneventful1） morning. I got to use the dentist-prescribed toothpaste that my parents use and I'm not allowed to because mine was out. Super.

The school day took after my morning. I did a bit of walking， a lot of sitting， and daydreamed about a surplus of situations that would save me from the listlessness2） I was feeling. I had an average lunch： taco3） salad made from the meat we had on burrito4） day the day before. I came to the realization that I wear the same green shoes every Tuesday. I received an average test score in Algebra 2 and walked an established path back to my common， familiar suburban home.

From the moment I walked in the door， average was replaced with disorder. There was screaming， crashing of knick-knacks5） hitting the floor， and an extremely small army of writhing wings and antennae6）. Hordes of baby grasshoppers were conquering every inch of our kitchen， living room， entryway， and had begun an advance down the hall， hopping archaic7） dances around my feet， staring down at me with pits for eyes from the light fixtures and hanging plants. And I looked at my mother， bombarded by itty-bitty8） bodies， and I said， "We had taco salad for lunch."

She looked at me with big eyes for a short moment and told me this was not the time. She then quickly ordered me to take up a role in the biggest massacre9） the Western Hemisphere has known. As I made my way to her base in the kitchen， she began to explain the causes leading up to total warfare. Apparently， a grasshopper laden with eggs had chosen our basil10） plant as a dumping ground. My mother had brought that plant inside to use， and thrown a few bad leaves down the disposal. The eggs nestled in those leaves had developed in the quiet damp of our disposal until they hatched and were ready to greet the sunshine.

The disposal had harbored them. We would not. When it comes to methods of efficient， mass killing， the human imagination knows no bounds.

So it began. We used boxes to squash11） up to four feet of exoskeleton12）. We would stamp and squelch13） and singe14） for up to an hour， only to realize 20 minutes later that there were more. Had our plant been the dumping ground for multiple mamas？

For days this pattern continued. Our efforts were always thwarted15） as the next wave of hoppers crashed upon the interior of the sink. If we wanted to escape the bugs， we went outside.endprint

Every time someone called on the phone for me， my little brother would say， "Crystal， phone." And I would respond， "Can't. I've got my hands full of grasshopper guts."

It was unnerving to serve so much death. I began to dream about drowning in a wave of infant insect corpses. Sometimes I would look into their olive-pit eyes and hesitate before I squeezed their vitals16） onto the kitchen table.

It was bearable until one grasshopper made it impossible.

He wasn't like the others. He was milky and tinted with beige17）， like coffee foam. He had erected himself on the highest point of the basil plant， and he stood alone， his powerful legs coiled18）， his antennae quivering. And we understood each other. I didn't want to kill him， and he didn't want to die. None of them wanted to die， but so many had. My hands weren't helping hands， they were hellish19） hands.

I was killing. Strategically. I had a track record20） of three days. I ran to the bathroom sink and began to wash my hands. I washed them for five minutes and then filled them with sick21）. Then a grasshopper jumped out of that sick. I vowed never to eat basil again.

I've eaten basil once since that day. I've yet even to swat at a fly. It may seem fanatical to you， but I will never again stain my hands. Interesting， that the profound is often a product of common moments that are critically lived.

我永遠不會忘記那些蝗蟲從廚房水槽里突然冒出來的那一天。那天我做的都是再平常不過的事兒。我在兩分鐘之內起床，度過了一個再平淡不過的早晨。由于我的牙膏用完了，我就用了牙醫給我爸媽開的處方牙膏刷牙，而這種牙膏他們平時是不準我用的。感覺真爽。

早上的平淡蔓延到了我在學校的一整天。我很少走動，大部分時間都在坐著，幻想著各種能讓我擺脫這種無聊狀態的情景。我的午餐也平平無奇：墨西哥煎玉米卷沙拉，那是用前一天我們在墨西哥卷餅日剩下的肉做的。我突然發現自己每周二都穿著同一雙綠色的鞋。那天，我代數2考試得了個很一般的分數。我走上那條一成不變的路，回我那位于郊區的再平常不過、再熟悉不過的家。

從我踏入家門的那一刻起，這一天的平淡無奇就被混亂無序取代了。我聽到了尖叫聲和那些廉價的小裝飾品稀里嘩啦地掉在地上的聲音，還看到一支正在扭動著翅膀和觸須的極小的軍隊。成群的蝗蟲幼蟲正在攻占我們家的每一寸領土：廚房、起居室、玄關，并且已經開始向門廳進軍。它們有的在我腳邊跳著過時的舞步，有的從燈具和懸垂植物上用它們果核般的眼睛死盯著我。我看著正遭受這些小玩意兒連續進攻的媽媽說：“我們今天中午吃了墨西哥煎玉米卷沙拉。”

她瞪大眼睛看了我一小會兒，告訴我現在不是說這個的時候。接著她馬上命令我參與到這場已聞名西半球的規模最大的屠殺當中。我艱難地朝著她位于廚房的軍事基地前進時，她開始講述這場大戰的起因。顯然，一只滿腹蟲卵的蝗蟲選擇了我們家的那盆羅勒作為“卸”卵之地。然后我媽媽把那盆羅勒搬進屋里用，又把上面幾片長得不好的葉子扔進了廢物處理機里。于是，安頓在那幾片葉子上的蟲卵得以在廢物處理機那安靜而潮濕的環境中茁壯成長，直到完全羽化可以迎接陽光。

廢物處理機庇護它們，我們可不會。就有效的大規模的殺戮方法而論，人類的想象力可是無窮的。

于是大屠殺開始了。我們用盒子把蝗蟲壓扁，壓死的蝗蟲足有四英尺那么厚。我們花了一個小時對它們又跺又壓又燒，結果卻在20分鐘后發現更多的蝗蟲出現了。難道有好些個蝗蟲媽媽在我們家那盆羅勒上產卵了嗎？

戰爭就這樣持續了好幾天。我們的努力總是被一波又一波爭相涌上廚房水槽的蝗蟲所挫敗。我們只有到屋外去，才能暫時擺脫這些蟲子。

每次有人打電話找我，我弟弟就會喊：“克里斯特爾，你的電話。”而我都會回答：“不行，我滿手都是蝗蟲的內臟。”

每天屠殺這么多生命讓我緊張不安。我開始夢到自己被一大波幼蟲尸體淹沒。有時，看著它們橄欖果核一般的眼睛我會猶豫一下，再在廚房的桌子上擠壓它們的內臟。endprint

這我還可以忍受，直到一只蝗蟲讓我無法再痛下殺手。

它跟其他蝗蟲不太一樣。它的身體是乳白色的，還帶點淡棕色，就像咖啡上泛起泡沫的顏色。它選擇了棲息在那盆羅勒的最高處，獨自站著，蜷著有力的雙腿，抖動著觸角。我們明白彼此的想法。我不想殺死它，它也不想死。它們當中的任何一個都不想死，但有那么多已經死了。我的雙手不是援助之手，而是惡魔之手。

我在殘殺生命，并且是有策略地屠殺。我有三天的殺戮記錄。我跑到洗手間的洗手池前開始洗手，洗了有五分鐘，然后吐了滿手。一只蝗蟲從那堆嘔吐物中蹦了出來。我發誓這輩子再也不吃羅勒。

那天之后，我只吃過一次羅勒。我甚至沒有拍打過一只蒼蠅。也許你會覺得我這樣有些偏激，但我絕不會再沾污我的雙手。現在想來真是有趣，對你的生命產生深遠影響的往往就是那些平凡無奇但又關鍵的時刻。

1. uneventful [??n??ventfl] adj. 無重大事件的；平淡無奇的

2. listlessness [?l?stl?sn?s] n. 無精打采；怠倦

3. taco [?t?k??] n. 墨西哥煎玉米卷，是墨西哥的傳統食品，用一張墨西哥薄餅將肉餡、蔬菜等卷成U字形。

4. burrito [b??ri?t??] n. （墨西哥）玉米面卷餅，一種墨西哥食物，制作時將肉、豆、生菜、碎奶酪等食品和各種醬料放在墨西哥薄餅上，然后把餅卷起來食用。

5. knick-knack [?n?k n?k] n. （廉價的）小裝飾品，小擺設

6. antenna [?n?ten?] n.【動】觸須，觸角

7. archaic [ɑ??ke??k] adj. 過時的

8. itty-bitty [??ti ?b?ti] adj. <口>極小的

9. massacre [?m?s?k?（r）] n. 大屠殺；殘殺

10. basil [?b?zl] n. 【植】羅勒，一種有濃郁香味的草本植物，用作調味品，可直接入菜。

11. squash [skw??] vt. 把……壓扁；壓碎

12. exoskeleton [?eks??skel?tn] n. 【動】外骨骼

13. squelch [skwelt?] vt. 消除；壓碎

14. singe [s?nd?] vt. 燒焦；火燎

15. thwart [θw??t] vt. 挫敗；阻撓

16. vitals [?va?tlz] n. [復] （維持生命的）重要器官（如心、腦、肺等）

17. beige [be??] n. 淡棕色；米色

18. coil [k??l] vt. 盤繞；卷

19. hellish [?hel??] adj. 惡魔般的；討厭的，可憎的

20. track record： （個人或組織的）歷史記錄

21. sick [s?k] n. 嘔吐物endprint