豆沙糯米

BY 豆粘儿

我深吸了口气，然后敲了敲门。

JOE打开了门，看着我说，“你神色不是很好哦。”

我故意有点气恼地说“谢谢你”。我是不很高兴他这么说，但并不真恼他。

其实神色不好的是他。JOE最近游手好闲地到处瞎逛，好象生命已没意义了似的。也
不能怪他。过几天就是他二十岁生日了。我要是到他这个年纪也会不知道怎么办，
可能会去疯狂大购物，然后宣布破产什么的。但JOE不是做疯狂事情的人。他从不会
去做什么不负责任的事，即使到最后一刻。我告诉过他他是那种豆沙糯米类型的人，
就是外头又软又干又冷，而内心又甜又温情的人。我这么说是赞美他，但他不把我
的话当恭维。他宁可认为自己是情绪不稳，脾气暴躁，性情复杂的男子，内心冷得
象钢铁。我知道就是这种性格让他对二十岁的来临那么烦躁。他许下过许多心愿，
给了自己很高的期望，但到头来什么都没实现。最近的一条坏消息是他想转去一所
大学，结果没被接收。

“那么你今晚想作什么？”我装做随便地问他。实际上我有点担心。他是对自己很
严厉的人，什么事都很容易上心，什么时候做出往自己手腕上划一刀的傻事都说不
定。事实是，我已经盘算了几个星期了该怎么跟他分手了，总是找不到合适的时刻。
我不想我的分手成为他的最后通牒。还是等他心情好的时候再说吧。

“我不知道。”他说。他在看网球比赛。这样对他更不好，因为他原来就是想得到
那所大学的网球奖学金的。他还穿着睡衣，说明他又逃课了。而且两天没洗澡刮脸
了，身上有点气味。还不算太难闻，但闻得出来。嘴边长出胡子渣来，不知他是不
是又想留胡子了。

“要不我们去跳舞，就是上个月你朋友带我们去的那家。”说不定跳舞能让他高兴
起来。

“我今晚不想碰见那帮小丑。”

“但我以为你们是好朋友。”

“他们都是窝囊废。”

“他们是没什么上进心。”我无所谓地说道。“要不我们去街角的那家中餐馆吧？”

他不耐烦地抢白说，“怎么你什么事都要先计划好。我们就不能随心所欲点？”

我不喜欢他这个样子，对每个人都发脾气。他真的是很痛苦。我想到要跟他分手就
很内疚。

我说，“好吧，那我们就随心所欲好了。”说着在他的棕皮沙发上坐了下来。

JOE起身去洗澡准备了。我一边坐着等。他的住处象个猪圈。我就帮他整理了一下。
一个邋蹋的环境对心情是不好的。但整理过了他的地方还是看起来脏兮兮和空洞。
既然他还在洗澡，我就抓了他的钥匙出门去买些鲜花。鲜花会起调节作用，虽然JOE是
不会注意到这些东西的。但我想自己应该负责一下他的精神状态。

当我拿着鲜花回到JOE的住所时，浴室的水还在响着。JOE不是花很长时间洗澡的人。
我敲了敲浴室的门。没回应。我把门一拧，闯了进去。JOE坐在浴缸里，头侧在一旁，
好象睡着了。但有红色的水涡在浴缸里旋转着。我花了好一会儿，才找到他左腕上
一伤痕。血从那里很平静地溢出来。我抓着他的手腕大声地叫出声来。他被我吵醒
了，转过头来看着我。

“嫁给我。”他说。我想他神志并不清醒。

邻居叫来了救护车。JOE在医院住了一晚上，第二天就出院了。他流失了两QUARTS的
血，但辛好还剩下足够的血维持脑和心脏。

如果真让那年轻身体里的血全流下浴缸，该是多么可惜的事。

(完)

Red Bean Mochi

I had to take a deep breath before I knocked on the door.

"You look like sorta depressed," Joe said as he opened the door.

"Thanks a bunch." I tried to sound offended, and I was a little, but I didn't
take it too personally.

Joe has been bumming lately because he thinks his life has passed him by.
You can't blame him. It must be hard staring at your twentieth birthday
in less than a week. I'm not sure what I would do in his shoes, maybe go
on an epic shopping spree then file bankruptcy or something. But Joe just
isn't that kind of guy. He would never do anything irresponsible even if
his life depended on it. I tell him that he's like red bean mochi, you know,
all soft and dry and cool on the outside but really very sweet and gooey
on the inside. I meant it as a compliment but I don't think he took it that
way. He sees himself as more of a moody, edgy, complex type of guy with
a steely inner core. I think that's why he's taking this twentieth birthday
thing so hard. He expected so much of himself based on his early promise
but nothing has materialized yet. The last straw was having his application
for transfer to the university rejected.

"So what do you want to do tonight?" I was trying to sound lackadaisical
but I was getting a little worried. I mean, he takes himself so seriously
he's the kind of guy who could do something goofy like slit his wrist. The
thing is, I've been trying to break up with him for a few weeks now but there
hasn't been a good time to do it. I didn't want to be the straw that broke
the camel's back. I figured it would be better to wait until he was in a
better mood.

"I don't care." He had been watching a tennis match. That probably made
things worse because originally he was hoping to get a tennis scholarship.
He was still wearing his sleeping t-shirt which means he cut classes again.
He hadn't shaved or showered in a couple of days now. He smelled. Not bad,
just noticeable. And there were long stubbles around his mouth and I wondered
if he was going to grow another mustache.

"Why don't we go dancing at that new club, you know that one your friends
took us to last month." I figured that might cheer him up.

"I don't feel like running into those jokers tonight."

"I thought you were really close."

"They're losers."

"They didn't seem terribly ambitious," I said noncommittally. "Well, why
don't we just go out for dinner at that Chinese place on the corner?"

He shook his head in exasperation and snapped at me: "The hell. Why does
everything have to be all scheduled out with you? Why can't we just play
it by ear?"

I didn't like the sound of that. He was lashing out at everyone. The poor
guy was in pain and I felt really guilty for wanting to break up with him.

"Okay, then," I said. "Let's just play it by ear." I sat down on an empty
patch on his big brown leather sofa.

I sat down to wait while Joe went to take a shower and get ready. His apartment
was a pigsty. I tidied up a bit. A grungy environment can be a downer. But
his apartment still looked dingy and bare. Since he was still in the shower,
I grabbed his keys and snuck out to buy some flowers. It would be a nice
touch, even though it wasn't the kind of thing Joe would probably notice.
Somehow I felt responsible for his state of mind.

When I got back to Joe's place with the flowers, I heard the shower still
running. It wasn't like Joe to take that long on a shower. I knocked on
the bathroom door. No answer. I turned the knob and rushed in. Joe was sitting
in the shower stall with his head tilted a little to one side. He looked
like he was sleeping, except for the red color swirling around the water
on the bottom of the stall. It took me a while to find the little gash on
his left wrist. The blood was draining from it rather peacefully. I grabbed
his wrist and screamed at the same time. I think I startled Joe awake because
he turned his head to look at me.

"Marry me," he said. I'm not sure he was entirely awake.

The neighbors called the ambulance. Joe spent the night at the hospital
and was released the next day. He had lost two quarts of blood but apparently
that still left plenty to keep his heart and brain functioning.

It would have been such a shame to let all that warm sweet blood just go
down the drain.

The End