Tom Cat
Tom was a white and marigold calico cat who excelled at being beautiful but failed at being healthy.
汤姆是一只白色和万寿菊色的印花布猫，它非常漂亮，但健康状况不佳。
Of his many challenges, Tom had a permanent clog in one nostril, which made his meals terrifying to witness.
在他面临的众多挑战中，汤姆的一个鼻孔永久性地堵塞了，这使得他的饭菜看起来很可怕。
I was relieved to see him alive afterward.
后来看到他还活着，我就放心了。
I dreaded looking after Tom, though he was the first cat with whom I had a kinship.
我害怕照顾汤姆，尽管他是第一只与我有亲属关系的猫。
We bonded one August in New York City.
八月我们在纽约结缘。
I had planned a trip from California to see my sister.
我计划从加利福尼亚州去看我姐姐。
Everything changed with a miscommunication: My stay overlapped with a last-minute jaunt to Tokyo, where she was chasing a new romantic partner.
一切都因沟通不畅而改变：我的逗留与最后一刻前往东京的短途旅行重叠，她在那里寻找新的浪漫伴侣。
This meant that I would be in New York City to visit my sister’s cat.
这意味着我将去纽约看望我姐姐的猫。
We’ve had the privilege of publishing Jennifer Thuy Vi Nguyen in the past.
我们过去曾有幸出版过 Jennifer Thuy Vi Nguyen 的作品。
Be sure to check out her first Longreads piece, “The Shapes of Silence.”
一定要看看她的第一篇长读文章《沉默的形状》。
In trips past, I had established an adversarial relationship with New York; I had visited when it was cold and when I was lonely.
在过去的旅行中，我与纽约建立了敌对关系；我在寒冷和孤独的时候去过。
This New York trip was supposed to have a different tenor.
这次纽约之行本来应该有不同的基调。
It was summer.
那是夏天。
I was traveling with a girlfriend that adored me.
我和一个崇拜我的女朋友一起旅行。
With her, I was on a mission to rectify my relationship with the city, especially since I had learned to like myself and the external world a little more.
和她一起，我的使命是纠正我与这座城市的关系，特别是因为我学会了更多地喜欢自己和外部世界。
Prior to the trip, my sister sent an email with several bullet points entitled, “When To Know Tom is Sick.” It began innocuously:
在旅行之前，我姐姐发了一封电子邮件，其中包含几个要点，标题为“何时知道汤姆生病了”。 它开始无伤大雅：
The list escalated in minor intensity:
该列表的强度较小：
The email concluded:
该电子邮件的结论是：
She signed, “Love you and THANK YOU.
她签名说：“爱你，谢谢你。
Sent from my Windows Phone.“
从我的 Windows Phone 发送。“
When I arrived in Harlem, I felt anguished responsibility and resentment toward the cat.
当我到达哈莱姆区时，我对这只猫感到痛苦的责任和怨恨。
He could die, I perseverated.
他可能会死，但我坚持了下来。
I had imagined Manhattan from the vantage point of a twenty-something with her lover, but was now relegated to “indoor New York lesbian with dying cat.” I searched his litter for pee and poop, as though playing a weird Where’s Waldo?
我曾从一个二十多岁的人与她的爱人的角度想象曼哈顿，但现在却被降级为“纽约室内女同性恋与垂死的猫”。我在他的垃圾中寻找尿液和粪便，就像玩一个奇怪的“沃尔多在哪里？”
Tom needed anti-anxiety medication with his wet food, and I was careful with the timing and dosage.
汤姆的湿食物需要抗焦虑药物，我对时间和剂量很谨慎。
I bypassed New York City nightlife to keep the cat alive.
为了让猫活下去，我绕过了纽约市的夜生活。
Despite my worries as a feline caretaker, Tom displayed what I have since learned are normal cat behaviors.
尽管作为一名猫科动物饲养员我很担心，但汤姆还是表现出了我后来了解到的猫的正常行为。
He stared out the living room window overlooking the Harlem River with longing and disdain.
他凝视着客厅的窗外，俯瞰着哈莱姆河，既渴望又不屑。
He walked across my keyboard with apathetic audacity.
他冷漠而大胆地走过我的键盘。
One moment he would lay like a cherub, the next he would reach for a feather toy attached to a string.
前一秒他还像小天使一样躺着，下一秒他就会伸手去拿一个系在绳子上的羽毛玩具。
He protracted and retracted his claws with a bored cadence, as if to say, I’m a cat and this shit is just what I do.
他用一种无聊的节奏伸出又收回爪子，仿佛在说，我是一只猫，这就是我所做的。
I oscillated between wondering whether Tom was fighting to live or actively trying to die.
我犹豫不决，想知道汤姆是在为生存而战，还是在积极地求死。
I learned to adore the way he sidled against me and to hate his momentary affection, just as he learned to detach from me in weariness and depend on me in hunger.
我学会了欣赏他侧身靠着我的样子，讨厌他一时的感情，就像他学会了在疲倦时与我分离，在饥饿时依赖我一样。
Days with him were a quick education in a cat’s existence.
和他在一起的日子让我快速了解了猫的存在。
I did not realize then that cat duality was normal.
那时我没有意识到猫的二元性是正常的。
A friend once described her cat Winston, who wandered away for months.
一位朋友曾经描述过她的猫温斯顿，它流浪了几个月。
She had discovered that Winston would visit four other families miles away.
她发现温斯顿会拜访几英里外的另外四个家庭。
He often appeared on Nextdoor, his picture attached to the question: “Is this your cat?” He was everyone’s and no one’s.
他经常出现在 Nextdoor 上，他的照片附在问题上：“这是你的猫吗？”他属于所有人，又不属于任何人。
When I heard this story, I understood.
当我听到这个故事时，我明白了。
Winston had lived the life Tom could not: a single existence of different lives.
温斯顿过着汤姆无法过的生活：不同生活的单一存在。
I was well versed in personal animal tragedy.
我深谙个人动物悲剧。
My father, Thom, is an animal enthusiast with attachment issues.
我的父亲汤姆是一位有依恋问题的动物爱好者。
He feels guilty for bypassing the last puppy in a litter and is annoyed by said puppy for occupying his space.
他对绕过一窝中的最后一只小狗感到内疚，并对这只小狗占据了他的空间感到恼火。
My youth sometimes felt like “farm or famine.” We gathered chickens and rabbits as quickly as we freed them at our local temple, hoping that the vegetarian monks would keep them alive.
我的青春有时感觉就像“农场或饥荒”。我们把鸡和兔子放生到当地的寺庙后，就立即把它们收集起来，希望吃素的僧人能让它们活下去。
Our dogs mysteriously disappeared, often when my sister and I were away for the weekend.
我们的狗神秘地失踪了，通常是在我和姐姐出去度周末的时候。
Our hamsters escaped from their cages, vanishing into the unreachable crevices of our house.
我们的仓鼠从笼子里逃了出来，消失在我们房子里遥不可及的缝隙里。
My world expanded and contracted with my father’s fickle interest.
我的世界随着父亲变化无常的兴趣而扩大和缩小。
My father modeled binary relationships using pets and people.
我父亲用宠物和人来模拟二元关系。
I easily adopted this stingy affection.
我很容易就接受了这种吝啬的感情。
Duality was an adolescent tool to deflect from being queer; I could offer just enough to draw others in, but retreat the moment they sensed something different about me.
二元性是青少年逃避酷儿身份的工具。我可以提供足够的东西来吸引其他人，但一旦他们感觉到我有什么不同，我就会撤退。
My parents experienced my deluge-and-detach strategy.
我的父母经历了我的“淹没和分离”策略。
I portrayed an academically inclined daughter in exchange for dating women hundreds of miles away in California.
我扮演了一个有学术倾向的女儿，以换取与数百英里外的加利福尼亚州的女性约会。
Fully out and in adulthood, I still hold the dogs and people of my life close and recoil when threatened.
成年后，我仍然把我生命中的狗和人紧紧地抱在怀里，并在受到威胁时退缩。
Tom was my sister’s second overweight, highly dependent male cat.
汤姆是我姐姐养的第二只超重、高度依赖的公猫。
He arrived with a sputtering digestive system at her Harlem apartment as a foster.
他作为寄养者来到她位于哈林区的公寓，消化系统状况不佳。
Like my sister, I was drawn to Tom.
像我姐姐一样，我被汤姆所吸引。
Like my father, my affection slowly eroded seeing him lounging on the couch each morning and knowing he would be on the kitchen counter every afternoon and evening as I ran from the 135th Street subway station, worried that the goddamn cat had died.
和我父亲一样，每天早上看到他懒洋洋地躺在沙发上，知道他每天下午和晚上都会在厨房柜台上，而我从第 135 街地铁站跑出来，担心那只该死的猫死了，我的感情慢慢地被侵蚀了。
If cats have nine lives, my father has had at least five that I know of.
如果猫有九种生命，据我所知，我父亲至少有五种。
In his first, he had a mother, a father, and smoked boxes of cigarettes purchased on borrowed money he never returned.
在他的第一个故事中，他有母亲、父亲，还抽着借钱买来的香烟，但他从未归还。
Everyone called him Hoang, his family name.
大家都叫他黄，这是他的姓氏。
That life ended in childhood with the Vietnam War, his dreams of becoming a lawyer erased by the obligation to enlist and fight for Saigon.
童年时期的越南战争结束了他的生活，他成为一名律师的梦想因入伍并为西贡而战的义务而被抹去。
After passing an intelligence exam in his early 20s, he began his next life as a cargo pilot for the Southern Vietnamese Army.
20 岁出头通过情报考试后，他开始了自己的下一段生活：担任南越陆军货运飞行员。
As Saigon collapsed in 1975, he escaped on one of the last planes before the airport was destroyed.
1975 年西贡崩溃时，他乘坐机场被毁前最后一架飞机逃了出来。
From that life on, my father was never late again.
从那以后，父亲再也没有迟到过。
He was everyone’s and no one’s.
他属于所有人，又不属于任何人。
When Saigon fell, he was forced to flee.
当西贡陷落时，他被迫逃离。
America reordered his names on papers.
美国在文件上重新排列了他的名字。
No longer Hoang, Thom led lives across the Bible Belt, first on a farm that sponsored Vietnamese refugees, then as a grocery store cashier in New Orleans, and finally as a house painter, parking attendant, and machinist in Houston.
汤姆不再是黄，而是在圣经地带过着生活，先是在一个资助越南难民的农场里，然后在新奥尔良担任杂货店收银员，最后在休斯敦担任房屋油漆工、停车场服务员和机械师。
I was a part of his next life.
我是他下辈子的一部分。
Then, he had the body of a tired man with the calloused hands of a machinist, who was once an aspiring lawyer.
然后，他的身体变成了一个疲惫的男人，双手长满了老茧，机械师曾经是一名有抱负的律师。
Emulating him, I embodied the role of a worthy daughter who relentlessly performed being an asset, not a burden.
我效仿他，扮演了一个值得尊敬的女儿的角色，不懈地扮演着一种资产，而不是一种负担。
Meanwhile, I lived a different life in my imagination.
与此同时，我也过着自己想象中的不一样的生活。
I always assumed that my father had a constant, cat-like annoyance at my existence, which forced him to dutifully pass time until his next life.
我一直以为我的父亲对我的存在有着一种持续的、像猫一样的烦恼，这迫使他尽职尽责地度过时间，直到他的下一生。
Together, we lived at a close distance.
我们住在一起，距离很近。
My father was Thom, the young dad, who watched me line up with my classmates in grade school.
我的父亲是汤姆，一位年轻的父亲，他在小学时看着我和同学们一起排队。
He was there out of pride, but also because he was often unemployed and needed something to do.
他来这里是出于自豪，但也因为他经常失业并且需要做点什么。
He was Thom, the middle-aged man, who picked me up from an academic tournament at midnight, proud that I had won but fatigued from a job where overtime was standard.
他就是汤姆，一个中年男人，半夜接我参加一场学术比赛，他为我获胜而感到自豪，但对加班是常态的工作感到疲惫不堪。
He was Thom, the rotund figure, who rewarded my report cards with Jack in the Box because he believed in positive reinforcement and because he loved American fast food, which gave him high cholesterol and adult-onset diabetes.
他就是汤姆，身材圆润，用“盒子里的杰克”来奖励我的成绩单，因为他相信积极强化，也因为他喜欢美式快餐，而这导致了他高胆固醇和成人糖尿病。
As his life became as American as it was Vietnamese, my father became “Tom.” His name, Thom, is pronounced with a silent h and a diphthong that stretches the o with a humming lightness akin to its Vietnamese definition: fragrant scent.
当我父亲的生活变得像越南人一样美国化时，他就成了“汤姆”。他的名字 Thom 的发音是无声的 h 和双元音，o 的发音带有嗡嗡的轻快感，类似于越南语的定义：芬芳的气味。
Without Vietnamese people around, my father eliminates the intonation and simply calls himself “Tom.” My lackluster Vietnamese meant that he permanently became “Tom” to me.
周围没有越南人，我父亲消除了语调，简单地称自己为“汤姆”。我的越南语平淡无奇意味着他永远成为我的“汤姆”。
I gathered bits of the lives he had left behind, which included joy riding on his Honda motorbike and a girlfriend who, like me, was a tiger on the Chinese zodiac—passionate and stubborn.
我收集了他留下的生活的点点滴滴，其中包括骑着本田摩托车的快乐，以及一个和我一样是十二生肖虎的女朋友——热情而固执。
I imagine a parallel universe where Hoang had not escaped and became a lawyer.
我想象一个平行宇宙，黄没有逃脱并成为一名律师。
I am a character in a world where none of that has come true.
我是一个生活在一个所有这些都没有实现的世界里的角色。
In his current life, my father exists animal-less and alone on the southwest side of Houston.
在我父亲目前的生活中，没有动物，独自生活在休斯敦的西南侧。
Forced into early retirement after a decade of unemployment, he passes time with a light routine: a trip to the library, grocery shopping, and napping.
失业十年后被迫提前退休，他过着轻松的生活：去图书馆、买杂货和小睡。
Gone is my mother, who grew tired of key-lock entrances to their separate rooms.
我母亲走了，她厌倦了用钥匙锁进入各自房间。
His two closest family members—my sister and I—are his most infrequent and frequent guests.
他最亲密的两个家庭成员——我和妹妹——是他最不常来的客人，也是最常来的客人。
I’m busy, he would often respond in some variation to our dinner requests.
我很忙，他经常会以不同的方式回应我们的晚餐要求。
I settle for occasional phone calls where we talk, but say very little.
我偶尔会打电话聊聊，但说得很少。
Together, we lived at a close distance.
我们住在一起，距离很近。
Without work or family, I wonder what his life means now.
没有工作，没有家庭，我想知道他现在的生活意味着什么。
My father once told me that he wanted to live as long as he could to accumulate enough karma to reincarnate into something better.
我父亲曾经告诉我，他想尽可能长寿，积累足够的业力，以便转世到更好的地方。
From his perspective, this life was punishment for misdeeds in a previous one.
在他看来，这一世就是对前世罪孽的惩罚。
By extension, I felt like I was part of the punishment.
推而广之，我觉得自己也是惩罚的一部分。
“What do you want to be in your next life?” I once asked.
“下辈子你想做什么？”我曾经问过。
“An American dog,” he replied.
“一只美国狗，”他回答道。
Though this was his version of a joke, it was also his general way of being—biding time in his current life while awaiting a better one.
虽然这是他的玩笑，但这也是他普遍的生活方式——在当前的生活中等待时机，等待更好的生活。
My father met Tom, the cat, when my sister and I graduated with our master’s degrees.
当我和姐姐获得硕士学位时，我的父亲遇见了猫汤姆。
Just as he had with childhood pets, my father expressed initial excitement about our graduations, but had to be cajoled into visiting.
就像他对待儿时的宠物一样，我父亲最初对我们的毕业表示兴奋，但后来不得不被哄着来参观。
He preferred being at home to visiting New York City and having to spend consecutive days with us.
他更喜欢呆在家里，而不是去纽约市和我们连续几天呆在一起。
To some extent, I understood.
在某种程度上，我明白了。
We both disdained the city’s pretension.
我们都鄙视这座城市的自命不凡。
He loathed people who thought they were better than him because he never had the opportunity to become the best version of himself.
他讨厌那些认为自己比他更好的人，因为他从来没有机会成为最好的自己。
I despised people whose primary personality was a superiority complex about working at Deutsche Bank.
我鄙视那些主要性格是在德意志银行工作的优越感的人。
Our versions of New York City obscured our real reasons for not wanting to visit.
我们对纽约市的看法掩盖了我们不想去的真正原因。
My father and I distanced ourselves from our surroundings.
我和父亲与周围的环境保持距离。
While he preferred rarely leaving home, I moved away from the people I thought I could hurt the most.
虽然他宁愿很少离开家，但我却远离了那些我认为可能伤害最深的人。
Like my father, I always wanted to be somewhere else.
像我父亲一样，我一直想去别的地方。
We filled the distance we created between ourselves and others with guilt.
我们用愧疚填满了自己和他人之间造成的距离。
By living several states away from my father, my absence became my shame.
由于居住在远离父亲的几个州，我的缺席成了我的耻辱。
I worried that he would die alone, without me.
我担心他会独自死去，没有我。
Similarly, my father left text messages and brief voicemails with the same rhetorical themes: Are you still alive?
同样，我的父亲也留下了同样的修辞主题的短信和简短的语音邮件：你还活着吗？
Where are you?
你在哪里？
Are you okay?
你还好吗？
In our brief exchanges, we rarely spoke about our lives, but seemed concerned about our potential deaths.
在我们简短的交流中，我们很少谈论我们的生活，但似乎担心我们可能的死亡。
My father acquiesced to visiting New York City with the same guilty dynamic that defined our relationship.
我父亲默许了访问纽约，他的愧疚感也定义了我们的关系。
He bought a tie and a suitcase after I reminded him that he missed my sister’s college graduation for no particular reason.“It hurt her,” I said to him.
在我提醒他他无缘无故错过我姐姐的大学毕业典礼后，他买了一条领带和一个手提箱。“这伤害了她，”我对他说。
“No it didn’t,” he snapped back defensively.
“不，没有，”他防御性地反驳道。
He looked upset taking it in.
他看上去很沮丧地接受了它。
I was pushing my father to show up to compensate for the times he could not.
我敦促父亲出现，以弥补他不能出现的时间。
Amid the brinkmanship, I had conveniently failed to remind him that, fixated on my grades and college escapism, I didn’t attend my sister’s graduation either.
在这种边缘政策中，我很方便地没有提醒他，由于专注于自己的成绩和大学逃避现实，我也没有参加姐姐的毕业典礼。
“Why did you name the cat after me?” my father asked, upon meeting Tom for the first time.
“你为什么用我的名字给猫命名？”第一次见到汤姆时，父亲问道。
He looked incredulously at the cat, who stared back at him, bored, but mildly curious.
他难以置信地看着那只猫，猫也盯着他，一脸无聊，但又有些好奇。
Tom spent graduation week slowly circling my father, alert to another male in his precious New York City territory.
毕业那一周，汤姆慢慢地绕着我父亲转，对他宝贵的纽约市领土上的另一只雄性保持警惕。
My father cautiously maneuvered the space, suspect of the size and the missing microwave.
我父亲小心翼翼地操纵着这个空间，对这个空间的大小和失踪的微波炉感到怀疑。
I often found him perched uneasily on the couch, as though the furniture would give out from his unfamiliar weight.
我经常发现他不安地坐在沙发上，好像家具会因为他不熟悉的重量而变形。
By the end of the week, I managed to take a single photo of the two Toms—the cat sitting upright on the couch, the father attempting to put his arm around the cat’s slim shoulder.
到了周末，我成功地给两只汤姆猫拍了一张照片——猫笔直地坐在沙发上，父亲试图用手臂搂住猫纤细的肩膀。
Adjacent to one another, but at a conspicuous distance, they both smile into the camera.
他们彼此相邻，但距离很明显，他们都对着镜头微笑。
As I cat-sat for Tom, I observed that he lived a regimented life within my sister’s 500-square-foot, one-bedroom apartment.
当我为汤姆看管时，我发现他在我姐姐 500 平方英尺的一居室公寓里过着严格的生活。
I aligned my schedule to his.
我把我的日程安排与他的日程安排一致。
I watched Tom gorge on his breakfast of cat-Zoloft covered in wet food.
我看着汤姆狼吞虎咽地吃着沾满湿粮的猫佐洛复早餐。
I panicked at the sounds he made, air wheezing into his functioning nostril and struggling to escape his food-occupied mouth.
我对他发出的声音感到惊慌，空气呼啸着进入他正常运作的鼻孔，并挣扎着逃离他充满食物的嘴。
Afterward, I watched Tom waltz around his limited world.
之后，我看着汤姆在他有限的世界里跳着华尔兹。
He sauntered from the arm of the couch to the empty feeder, then to the bathtub.
他从沙发扶手走到空喂食器，然后走到浴缸。
I never knew if and when he would fall apart.
我从来不知道他是否以及何时会崩溃。
He would play with an odd mix of delight and weariness.
他会带着一种奇怪的喜悦和疲倦的混合情绪来玩耍。
Sometimes he toyed with feathers or stuffed animals.
有时他会玩弄羽毛或毛绒动物。
Occasionally he attacked the shower curtain.
有时他会攻击浴帘。
My girlfriend and I scampered out of the apartment in the early afternoons to enjoy summer in New York.
下午早些时候，我和女朋友蹦蹦跳跳地走出公寓，去纽约享受夏天。
No matter where I happened to be—on the Highline, waiting for fries at Shake Shack, or walking across the Brooklyn Bridge—I wondered whether Tom was dead or alive.
无论我碰巧在哪里——在高线公园、在 Shake Shack 等薯条，或者走过布鲁克林大桥——我都想知道汤姆是死是活。
One evening, as I watched a sunset production of Cymbeline at Shakespeare in the Park, all I could think about was how long it would take to get to my sister’s apartment immediately after the last act.
一天晚上，当我在公园的莎士比亚剧场观看日落演出的《辛白林》时，我所能想到的就是最后一幕结束后需要多长时间才能到达我姐姐的公寓。
Tom had patterns that evoked my father.
汤姆的风格让我想起了我父亲。
Like the cat, my father led a regimented life defined by meals, anchored by the house he loathed to travel from.
就像猫一样，我的父亲过着严格的生活，以饮食为基础，以他讨厌离开的房子为基础。
Each of my are you alive?
我的每一个你还活着吗？
visits had the same routine.
访问也有同样的惯例。
He offered me bottled water from cases stored in a corner.
他从角落里的箱子里拿出瓶装水给我。
He proposed cutting the less-than-ripe pineapple on the kitchen counter, adjacent to a loaf of white bread.
他建议在厨房柜台上切未成熟的菠萝，旁边是一条白面包。
We sat on his floral-patterned couch and watched whatever was on one of the five television stations he had.
我们坐在他的花卉图案沙发上，观看他拥有的五个电视台之一的节目。
Once, I noticed a painting of a boy in a conical Vietnamese hat reading a book by an ox—two figures, alone yet together.
有一次，我注意到一幅画，画中一个男孩戴着越南圆锥形帽子，正在读一头牛的书——两个人物，单独但在一起。
“I like it,” I said.
“我喜欢它，”我说。
“I like it too.
“我也喜欢。
The painting is me,” he replied.
这幅画就是我。”他回答道。
I did not know whether he was the boy or the ox.
我不知道他是男孩还是牛。
The next time I visited, the painting had disappeared.
当我下次访问时，这幅画已经消失了。
Despite how onerous the visits can be, I go at least twice a year, even if my father never asks me to.
尽管探望是多么繁重，但我每年至少去两次，即使我父亲从未要求我这样做。
I am driven by imagining him dead on the floral-patterned couch, not to be found for days, his body’s stench finally alerting his neighbors.
我想象着他死在花卉图案的沙发上，好几天都找不到，他尸体的恶臭最终惊动了他的邻居。
His death doesn’t scare me; that death would release my father from the life he had not planned for.
他的死并没有让我害怕；死亡将使我父亲摆脱他没有计划的生活。
I fear that my absence makes me somehow responsible.
我担心我的缺席会让我在某种程度上承担责任。
His death doesn’t scare me; that death would release my father from the life he had not planned for.
他的死并没有让我害怕；死亡将使我父亲摆脱他没有计划的生活。
Most of all, I worry about losing the opportunity to learn about all the lives he had lived before me.
最重要的是，我担心失去了解他在我之前的所有生活的机会。
Although living at a distance affords me the ability to live fully, it comes at the expense of not truly knowing my father’s story.
虽然远方的生活让我能够过上充实的生活，但这是以无法真正了解父亲的故事为代价的。
I am always relieved when my father picks up the phone or opens the door to tell me something new.
当父亲拿起电话或打开门告诉我一些新的事情时，我总是感到如释重负。
Your grandfather and grandmother were good people.
你的祖父和祖母都是好人。
After I escaped, they blew up the airport.
我逃走后，他们炸毁了机场。
We landed in Thailand.
我们降落在泰国。
I was sponsored by a farm—Baptists.
我得到了一个农场——浸信会的资助。
I didn’t like it.
我不喜欢它。
I had a lot of girlfriends, one was a Tiger sign just like you.
我有过很多女朋友，有一个和你一样是属虎的。
My real name is Hoang.
我的真名是黄。
That’s my family name.
这是我的姓氏。
Midway through cat-sitting Tom, I hosted a friend at my sister’s apartment.
在照顾汤姆猫的过程中，我在姐姐的公寓接待了一位朋友。
I was thrilled to talk about topics other than cats and their narrowing urethras.
我很高兴能谈论猫及其狭窄尿道以外的话题。
At first, Tom began to withdraw physically from us.
起初，汤姆开始远离我们。
Then he writhed and screeched in anguish.
然后他痛苦地翻滚并尖叫。
My dread became real.
我的恐惧变成了现实。
Following my sister’s bullet-point instructions, we began the journey to the vet.
按照姐姐的要点指示，我们开始了去看兽医的旅程。
We put Tom in a box.
我们把汤姆放进一个盒子里。
He was surprisingly agile despite only one good nostril and a thrice-blocked urethra, trying to tip the box and force his way out.
尽管只有一个完好的鼻孔和三次堵塞的尿道，他却出奇地敏捷，试图倾斜盒子并强行逃脱。
I jostled him back in.
我把他推了回去。
My brain was perplexed by the problem at hand—a bulbous, liquid-filled cat that could explode.
我的大脑对眼前的问题感到困惑——一只球状的、充满液体的猫可能会爆炸。
After some fussing, he was ready for transport.
一阵忙乱后，他准备出发了。
I called a taxi.
我叫了一辆出租车。
New York City’s summer heat swelled as my girlfriend, our guest, and I reached the Manhattan Vet Group on the Upper East Side.
当我和我们的客人女友到达上东区的曼哈顿兽医小组时，纽约市的夏季炎热加剧。
We were a frenetic group carrying a cat in a box with a condition we didn’t quite understand.
我们是一群狂热的人，带着一只装在盒子里的猫，但我们不太了解它的状况。
Upon arrival, I attempted to explain everything to the receptionist.
抵达后，我试图向接待员解释一切。
We were waved into an office where we placed Tom on what resembled a sterile kitchen island.
我们被招呼进一间办公室，把汤姆安置在一个类似无菌厨房岛的地方。
Out of the box, Tom looked away, perhaps acknowledging his fate.
汤姆走出包厢，把目光移开，也许是承认了自己的命运。
He had been in this office twice, leaving each time with a new life and an unblocked, narrower urethra.
他已经来过这个办公室两次，每次离开时都获得了新的生活，尿道也变得畅通、狭窄。
Although he evaded death, his body and world became smaller each time.
虽然他躲过了死亡，但他的身体和世界却一次次变小。
A man in steel-blue scrubs entered the room.
一个穿着钢蓝色工作服的男人走进了房间。
I heard myself say some combination of My sister, blocked, scarred, can’t pee, screaming, told me to come here.
我听到自己说了一些我姐姐的组合，她被堵住了，伤痕累累，不能撒尿，尖叫着，叫我来这里。
The man understood my hysteria, grabbed a fistful of Tom’s fur and lifted him as if he were pulling a sheet from a typewriter—tightening the skin around his body to reveal a hard, round globe of a stomach.
那个人理解了我的歇斯底里，抓住了汤姆的一把皮毛，把他举了起来，就像他从打字机上拉出一张纸一样——拉紧了他身体周围的皮肤，露出了坚硬的、圆形的胃。
“He’s blocked and full of urine,” he said to us as Tom hissed in what I interpreted as cat indignation.
“他被堵住了，满是尿液，”他对我们说，汤姆发出嘶嘶声，我认为这是猫的愤怒。
The man repeated the same diagnosis to the veterinarian who entered the room.
该男子向进入房间的兽医重复了同样的诊断。
She examined the cat.
她检查了那只猫。
“We could unblock him, but his urethra would simply get smaller because of the scar tissue.
“我们可以解除他的阻塞，但由于疤痕组织，他的尿道只会变小。
He’d block again and more frequently,” the vet said.
他会再次更频繁地阻塞，”兽医说。
Her quick speaking pace matched her stressed, static-frazzled hair.
她快速的说话速度与她紧张、静电打乱的头发很相配。
“It’s the cheaper option,” she said.
“这是更便宜的选择，”她说。
“The long-term option is to widen his urethra to what could appear as more female presenting,” she said.
“长期的选择是扩大他的尿道，使其看起来更女性化，”她说。
“That’s a little more expensive.”
“那个贵一点。”
“How much?” I asked.
“多少？”我问。
“$5,000,” she said.
“5,000 美元，”她说。
I contemplated the options.
我考虑了各种选择。
I looked at my girlfriend, whose plans for a lower Manhattan excursion had been disrupted by the strange decision that ensnared us.
我看着我的女朋友，她的曼哈顿下城旅行计划被我们陷入困境的奇怪决定打乱了。
I had imagined a different trip where Tom and my sister could share space with my girlfriend and I, where we could roam the city without a schedule or concern.
我曾想象过一次不同的旅行，汤姆和我的妹妹可以与我和我的女朋友共享空间，我们可以在没有时间表或担忧的情况下漫游城市。
Instead, I called my sister.
相反，我给姐姐打电话。
Miraculously, she answered despite it being past midnight in Tokyo.
奇迹般的是，尽管东京已经过了午夜，她还是接了电话。
Over speaker phone, the vet repeated the options to my sister: unblock and repeat, widening the urethra, no we don’t put animals to sleep.
通过免提电话，兽医向我姐姐重复了这些选择：解除阻塞并重复，扩大尿道，不，我们不会让动物入睡。
The scene felt like practice for future conversations we would have about our parents.
这个场景感觉像是我们将来谈论父母时的练习。
I heard my sister’s resigned, warbled sigh.
我听到姐姐无奈的、颤抖的叹息声。
Later, I learned that she was drained from the disappointing trip.
后来我才知道，这次令人失望的旅行让她筋疲力尽。
“I can’t afford to unblock this cat anymore,” she said, “We need to put him to sleep.”
“我再也无力解锁这只猫了，”她说，“我们需要让他入睡。”
The veterinarian refused on ethical grounds, but gave us the card to the Animal Medical Center on East 62nd Street.
兽医以道德为由拒绝了，但给了我们东 62 街动物医疗中心的卡。
I reached for Tom.
我伸手去抓汤姆。
I grabbed the box.
我抓起盒子。
I hung up the phone.
我挂了电话。
Tom was just a cat.
汤姆只是一只猫。
He wasn’t even my cat.
他甚至不是我的猫。
Tom’s limited affection, provided on his terms, frustrated me.
汤姆按照他的条件提供的感情有限，这让我感到沮丧。
He added to my aversion for New York City.
他加剧了我对纽约市的厌恶。
Despite all this, I sobbed en route to the Animal Medical Center.
尽管如此，我在去动物医疗中心的路上还是哭了。
I was distraught because Tom was in pain, and that I helped determine that he would no longer live, despite the fact that he was, at the point of decision, still alive.
我心烦意乱，因为汤姆很痛苦，而且我帮助确定了他将不再活着，尽管事实上他在做出决定时还活着。
Most of all, I was distressed that the circumstances—this trip, my role in Tom’s life, this choice over dying—did not have to be this way.
最重要的是，我感到痛苦的是，情况——这次旅行、我在汤姆生活中的角色、对死亡的选择——本来不必是这样的。
At the Animal Medical Center, we met the young veterinary intern who would put Tom to sleep.
在动物医疗中心，我们遇到了一位年轻的实习兽医，他会让汤姆入睡。
I looked into a crate where Tom was trapped, his tufts of fur trying to break through the grate’s rigid squares.
我向汤姆被困的板条箱望去，他的一簇毛皮试图冲破栅栏的刚性方块。
Tom faced away even after I called his name.
即使我叫了他的名字，汤姆也转过脸去。
I couldn’t stand to watch him die, so I left him, alone, with a caring stranger named Elizabeth.
我无法忍受看着他死去，所以我把他独自留在一个名叫伊丽莎白的陌生人身边。
She cradled Tom in her arms as I walked away.
当我走开时，她把汤姆搂在怀里。
Tom knew I had given up, and in part, he had too.
汤姆知道我已经放弃了，他也部分地放弃了。
With that choice, I was there, but not.
有了这个选择，我就在那里，但没有。
I took the long walk to the billing counter.
我走了很长一段路才到结帐柜台。
It was the first time I had dealt directly with the logistics of death instead of grieving in my head.
这是我第一次直接处理死亡的后勤问题，而不是在脑海中悲伤。
I had always been haunted by images of my father’s body slowly disintegrating, whether the thoughts came before I went to bed, as I was driving to work, or when he failed to pick up the phone.
我一直被父亲身体慢慢解体的画面所困扰，无论是在我上床睡觉之前、在我开车去上班的路上，还是在他没接电话的时候。
In New York, I was momentarily freed from fearing the death of Tom the father because of my concern for Tom the cat.
在纽约，由于我对猫汤姆的关心，我暂时不再担心父亲汤姆的死亡。
Tom’s death felt like the future.
汤姆的死感觉就像是未来。
At billing, a young woman gave stock condolences for my loss and prepared the paperwork to complete the transaction.
在结账时，一位年轻女士对我的损失表示哀悼，并准备了完成交易的文件。
“What’s your name?” Jennifer Nguyen.
“你叫什么名字？”詹妮弗·阮。
“What was the name of your pet?” Tom.
“你的宠物叫什么名字？”汤姆.
“Would you like to cremate Tom in an incinerator with other animals or would you like him to be cremated on his own?
“你想将汤姆与其他动物一起在焚化炉中火化，还是希望他自己火化？
It’s a $50 price difference.” I’ll take the cheaper option.
价格相差 50 美元。”我会选择更便宜的选择。
I ran my credit card for the $200 dollar bill and the machine printed a long document requiring my signature.
我用信用卡支付了 200 美元，机器打印了一份长文件，需要我签名。
It was a certificate of death for Tom Nguyen.
这是汤姆·阮的死亡证明。
Jennifer Thuy Vi Nguyen is a creative nonfiction writer and proud native Houstonian currently based in the San Francisco Bay Area.
Jennifer Thuy Vi Nguyen 是一位富有创意的非小说类作家，也是一位自豪的休斯顿本地人，目前居住在旧金山湾区。
Her work has appeared in Emerge (where she also served as editor), The Offing, Foglifter, the Ponder Review, and New Rivers Press as the winner of the American Fiction Award.
她的作品曾发表在《Emerge》（她同时担任编辑）、《The Offing》、《Foglifter》、《Ponder Review》和《New Rivers Press》上，并荣获美国小说奖。
Her writing has been supported by the Banff Centre for Arts and Creativity, the Vermont Studio Center, among others.
她的写作得到了班夫艺术与创意中心、佛蒙特工作室中心等机构的支持。
She writes humorist pieces in “Thursday Letters with Jen” via Substack.
她通过 Substack 在“Thursday Letters with Jen”中撰写幽默文章。
She is working on her first book, “A Writer from Houston.”
她正在写她的第一本书《休斯顿的作家》。
Editor: Krista StevensCopyeditor: Brendan Fitzgerald
编辑：克里斯塔·史蒂文斯文案编辑：布伦丹·菲茨杰拉德