姐妹情：那些属于我们姐妹的游戏

那些属于我们姐妹的游戏

It's my first memory: My mother has yanked me from the back seat of the car out onto the shoulder of the highway. She clutches my wrists and glares down at me, says she's leaving me right here on the side of the road unless I promise to stop.

这是我记得的第一件事儿：妈妈猛地把我从车后座拉到公路边的紧急停车道上，攥住我的手腕，低头瞪着我说，除非我保证不再踢妹妹，否则就把我丢在路边不管了。

I stare at the cars whooshing by, at the tall sepia -colored weeds, at the little pieces of litter everywhere, and am terrified that she really will. I vow never to kick my baby sister in the face again.

我怔怔地看着汽车疾驰而过，看着高耸的红褐色杂草，看着地上随处可见的零碎垃圾，心里很害怕妈妈真的会这样做。我发誓再也不会踢还是婴儿的妹妹的脸了。

As time went on, another sister came along, then another. Our three-bedroom split-level became full of girls—yes, four girls, all under the age of 8. It was a noisy, chaotic house, a place where my dad often retreated to his room for peace.

日子一天天过去，我又有了一个妹妹，接着又有了小妹。我们家错层式的三居室里挤满了小女孩——是的，一共四个，都还不满八 岁。家里吵吵闹闹，乱成一片，弄得爸爸常常会躲进自己的房间，以寻求一份安宁。

Play with your sisters, my mother commanded on those lazy afternoons when I claimed to be bored. "I had them for you."

“和你妹妹玩去，”当我在慵懒的午后声称自己无事可做的时候， 妈妈就会这样命令我，“当初我生下她们就是为了有人给你做伴。”

Though their constant presence had long ago eliminated the novelty of such a suggestion, my mother was right. My three little sisters were convenient to have around. Kickable or not, they were my constant companions: my annoying, endearing , permanent playmates.

虽说她们的无时不在让我早已对妈妈的这个提议没了新鲜感，不过妈妈说得没错。我的三个妹妹都是随叫随到。不管我有没有踢她们，她们都始终陪伴在我身边——她们是我永远的玩伴，让我欢喜让我忧。

In our one-hour-of-TV-a-day household, we relied on our imaginations for entertainment.

在我们家，每天只能看一个小时的电视。于是，我们就靠想象力自娱自乐。

It was 1996, and the US women's gymnastics team, "the Magnificent Seven", had just won Olympic gold in Atlanta. We pushed the family-room furniture to the walls,and then took turns performing improvised floor routines , calling out the moves we pretended to daringly execute, and, of course, faultlessly land. Triple flip, back tuck, twisty-jump. The coffee table worked as a balance beam; our mom's exercise bike became uneven bars ; and the armchair ottoman , the vault .

那是1996年，美国女子体操队“梦幻七人组合”刚刚在亚特兰大奥运会上夺金。我们把客厅的家具推到墙边，轮流即兴表演自由体操，一边表演还一边大声报出我们佯装勇敢完成并且当然会完美落地的那些动作的名称：板翻三圈、后空翻、转体跳。咖啡桌被我们当成了平衡木，妈妈的健身自行车变成了高低杠，而扶手椅则用作跳马的软垫凳。

Being an Olympian was fun, but inevitably we'd grow tired of the game. One of us would slip off the table, bang a knee, and cry. We'd start to argue over whose turn it was, song selection, and medal winners. The baby would wake up and need to play in the middle of our make-believe floor mat.

尽管假扮奥运会选手很有趣，但我们会逐渐厌倦这种游戏。我们当中会有人从桌子上滑下来磕到膝盖，然后嚎啕大哭。我们会起争执，争论该轮到谁了，该选择哪首歌曲以及谁该获得奖牌。最小的妹妹会被我们吵醒，而后在我们假想为体操场地的地垫中间玩耍。

Sometimes I resented being the oldest. I hated the way I had to set a good example all the time—that, or take responsibility for everything my sisters did wrong. I hated how they followed me around and stole my clothes. I wanted to talk to my mom uninterrupted or eat a snack without having to share a bite with each sister.

有时我很怨恨自己是老大。我讨厌自己不得不始终给妹妹们树立榜样，或者为她们做错的所有事情承担责任。我讨厌她们总是跟着我转，属于她们自己的游戏，还是只是摆弄爸爸的iPad，或使用车里的内置播放器来播放DVD呢？当她们回首往事的时候，她们记住的是电脑中的图像像素还是姐妹？

It's my second memory: My parents sit on the front porch watching my sister and me draw misshapen shapes on the asphalt driveway with brightly colored chalk stubs.It's a warm evening, just before dusk—almost time to go in and get ready for bed. The two of us stop playing, and sit on the stoop to compare the blackened soles of our bare feet.

这是我记忆中的第二件事儿：我的父母坐在房前的走廊上，看着我和妹妹用色彩鲜艳的粉笔头在沥青车道上信手乱画。那是一个温暖的傍晚，几近黄昏——就快到回屋准备睡觉的时间了。我和妹妹停了下来，光着脚丫坐在门前的台阶上比谁的脚底板更脏。

I don't remember much else, just that I was happy.

我不太能回忆起别的什么了，只记得那时我很快乐。

(By Nora Dunne)