斗蝗记

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.

我永远不会忘记那些蝗虫从厨房水槽里突然冒出来的那一天。那天我做的都是再平常不过的事儿。我在两分钟之内起床，度过了一个再平淡不过的早晨。由于我的牙膏用完了，我就用了牙医给我爸妈开的处方牙膏刷牙，而这种牙膏他们平时是不准我用的。感觉真爽。

早上的平淡蔓延到了我在学校的一整天。我很少走动，大部分时间都在坐着，幻想着各种能让我摆脱这种无聊状态的情景。我的午餐也平平无奇：墨西哥煎玉米卷沙拉，那是用前一天我们在墨西哥卷饼日剩下的肉做的。我突然发现自己每周二都穿着同一双绿色的鞋。那天，我代数2考试得了个很一般的分数。我走上那条一成不变的路，回我那位于郊区的再平常不过、再熟悉不过的家。

从我踏入家门的那一刻起，这一天的平淡无奇就被混乱无序取代了。我听到了尖叫声和那些廉价的小装饰品稀里哗啦地掉在地上的声音，还看到一支正在扭动着翅膀和触须的极小的军队。成群的蝗虫幼虫正在攻占我们家的每一寸领土：厨房、起居室、玄关，并且已经开始向门厅进军。它们有的在我脚边跳着过时的舞步，有的从灯具和悬垂植物上用它们果核般的眼睛死盯着我。我看着正遭受这些小玩意儿连续进攻的妈妈说：“我们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会儿，告诉我现在不是说这个的时候。接着她马上命令我参与到这场已闻名西半球的规模最大的屠杀当中。我艰难地朝着她位于厨房的军事基地前进时，她开始讲述这场大战的起因。显然，一只满腹虫卵的蝗虫选择了我们家的那盆罗勒作为“卸”卵之地。然后我妈妈把那盆罗勒搬进屋里用，又把上面几片长得不好的叶子扔进了废物处理机里。于是，安顿在那几片叶子上的虫卵得以在废物处理机那安静而潮湿的环境中茁壮成长，直到完全羽化可以迎接阳光。

废物处理机庇护它们，我们可不会。就有效的大规模的杀戮方法而论，人类的想象力可是无穷的。

于是大屠杀开始了。我们用盒子把蝗虫压扁，压死的蝗虫足有四英尺那么厚。我们花了一个小时对它们又跺又压又烧，结果却在20分钟后发现更多的蝗虫出现了。难道有好些个蝗虫妈妈在我们家那盆罗勒上产卵了吗？

战争就这样持续了好几天。我们的努力总是被一波又一波争相涌上厨房水槽的蝗虫所挫败。我们只有到屋外去，才能暂时摆脱这些虫子。

每次有人打电话找我，我弟弟就会喊：“克里斯特尔，你的电话。”而我都会回答：“不行，我满手都是蝗虫的内脏。”

每天屠杀这么多生命让我紧张不安。我开始梦到自己被一大波幼虫尸体淹没。有时，看着它们橄榄果核一般的眼睛我会犹豫一下，再在厨房的桌子上挤压它们的内脏。endprint

这我还可以忍受，直到一只蝗虫让我无法再痛下杀手。

它跟其他蝗虫不太一样。它的身体是乳白色的，还带点淡棕色，就像咖啡上泛起泡沫的颜色。它选择了栖息在那盆罗勒的最高处，独自站着，蜷着有力的双腿，抖动着触角。我们明白彼此的想法。我不想杀死它，它也不想死。它们当中的任何一个都不想死，但有那么多已经死了。我的双手不是援助之手，而是恶魔之手。

我在残杀生命，并且是有策略地屠杀。我有三天的杀戮记录。我跑到洗手间的洗手池前开始洗手，洗了有五分钟，然后吐了满手。一只蝗虫从那堆呕吐物中蹦了出来。我发誓这辈子再也不吃罗勒。

那天之后，我只吃过一次罗勒。我甚至没有拍打过一只苍蝇。也许你会觉得我这样有些偏激，但我绝不会再沾污我的双手。现在想来真是有趣，对你的生命产生深远影响的往往就是那些平凡无奇但又关键的时刻。

1. uneventful [??n??ventfl] adj. 无重大事件的；平淡无奇的

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

3. taco [?t?k??] n. 墨西哥煎玉米卷，是墨西哥的传统食品，用一张墨西哥薄饼将肉馅、蔬菜等卷成U字形。

4. burrito [b??ri?t??] n. （墨西哥）玉米面卷饼，一种墨西哥食物，制作时将肉、豆、生菜、碎奶酪等食品和各种酱料放在墨西哥薄饼上，然后把饼卷起来食用。

5. knick-knack [?n?k n?k] n. （廉价的）小装饰品，小摆设

6. antenna [?n?ten?] n.【动】触须，触角

7. archaic [ɑ??ke??k] adj. 过时的

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

9. massacre [?m?s?k?（r）] n. 大屠杀；残杀

10. basil [?b?zl] n. 【植】罗勒，一种有浓郁香味的草本植物，用作调味品，可直接入菜。

11. squash [skw??] vt. 把……压扁；压碎

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

13. squelch [skwelt?] vt. 消除；压碎

14. singe [s?nd?] vt. 烧焦；火燎

15. thwart [θw??t] vt. 挫败；阻挠

16. vitals [?va?tlz] n. [复] （维持生命的）重要器官（如心、脑、肺等）

17. beige [be??] n. 淡棕色；米色

18. coil [k??l] vt. 盘绕；卷

19. hellish [?hel??] adj. 恶魔般的；讨厌的，可憎的

20. track record： （个人或组织的）历史记录

21. sick [s?k] n. 呕吐物endprint