“Crabs”
My all-girls’ high school was sometimes visited by crabs.
我的女子高中有时会有螃蟹来访。
The first time I saw one show up was during my first year, on a rainy day in early summer.
我第一次看到它出现是在我第一年的时候，初夏的一个雨天。
The crab was sidling along one of the outside walkways, where the thick, humid air lingered close to the ground.
螃蟹沿着外面的一条走道侧行，那里粘稠潮湿的空气在靠近地面的地方徘徊。
Gray-green eyes poked up from its small, round shell, which was the color of sand, and its legs made a soft, scuttling sound.
沙色的小圆壳里伸出灰绿色的眼睛，腿发出轻柔的脚步声。
I stopped in my tracks, almost causing a collision with a classmate who was following behind me.
我停下脚步，差点和后面跟着的同学撞到。
She shot me a suspicious look.
她疑惑地看了我一眼。
I opened my mouth to explain, but my tongue felt dry and the words caught in my throat.
我张嘴想要解释，但舌头发干，话语哽在喉咙里。
Before I could say anything, the crab had slipped away.
我还没来得及说什么，螃蟹就溜走了。
My classmate’s thin eyebrows furrowed in irritation.
同学的细眉恼怒地皱起。
From what I could tell, the crabs came from a nearby river.
据我所知，这些螃蟹来自附近的一条河。
Tall reeds grew along the embankments on both sides, and even though the shoreline was supposedly far away, I was certain I could sense the presence of the sea.
两边的堤岸上长满了高大的芦苇，虽然海岸线据说很远，但我确信我能感觉到大海的存在。
The water level rose and fell daily, the cycles gradually shifting over the course of the month.
水位每天都会上升和下降，周期在一个月内逐渐变化。
Sometimes only the tips of the reeds and the seed heads were visible, poking above the murky water, and other times the reeds stood fully exposed, with a clear view of crabs clambering around their bases.
有时，只能看到芦苇的尖端和种子头，戳在浑浊的水面上，而有时，芦苇完全暴露在外，可以清楚地看到螃蟹在芦苇的底部爬行。
Every morning, after leaving the station, I crossed the river on a bridge.
每天早上，出站后，我就上桥过河。
I never saw a single crab on the way to the bridge, but from that point on, as I made my way closer to the school, countless crabs lay crushed on the road.
在去桥的路上我从未见过一只螃蟹，但从那时起，当我靠近学校时，无数的螃蟹躺在路上。
The sun roasted their shells, emitting a terrible stench.
太阳烤着它们的壳，散发出可怕的恶臭。
Crows pecked at both the living and the dead crabs, and cars shattered the shells into tiny fragments.
乌鸦啄食活螃蟹和死螃蟹，汽车将蟹壳撕成碎片。
Any crabs that managed to survive and reach the school would wander through the corridors, the schoolyard, the flower beds, and even the classrooms.
任何存活下来并到达学校的螃蟹都会在走廊、校园、花坛甚至教室里徘徊。
To me, they seemed lost, traveling from place to place as though in search of something.
对我来说，他们似乎迷失了方向，从一个地方旅行到另一个地方，好像在寻找什么。
Whenever I spotted one, my eyes would lock on to it.
每当我发现一个人时，我的目光就会锁定它。
The other students would warily watch me.
其他学生都会警惕地看着我。
Perhaps they were more aware of the crabs than I was, avoiding them or pretending that they didn’t exist.
也许他们比我更了解螃蟹，避开它们或假装它们不存在。
Even if a crab was right in front of them, they would refuse to acknowledge it, continuing on their way and lowering their voices.
即使螃蟹就在他们面前，他们也不承认，压低声音继续前行。
And when it would’ve been easy to simply step over the crab, they would instead walk around it in exaggerated fashion, or burst into wild laughter and screams.
当他们很容易跨过螃蟹时，他们就会以夸张的方式绕着它走，或者爆发出狂笑和尖叫。
If a crab found its way into their indoor slippers, instead of shaking it out or removing it, they would enter the school in just their socks.
如果一只螃蟹进入了他们室内的拖鞋，他们不会把它抖落或移走，而是只穿着袜子进入学校。
Crab shells, whole and in pieces, turned up all over the school, to be swept away with the dust and fallen leaves and other litter, placed in a trash bag, and carried off behind the buildings to the incinerator.
整个学校和碎片的蟹壳遍布学校各处，与灰尘、落叶和其他垃圾一起被扫走，放入垃圾袋中，然后运到建筑物后面的焚化炉。
In those days, the incineration was handled by the school janitor, a thickset, middle-aged woman.
那时，焚烧工作是由学校看门人负责的，她是一位身材粗壮的中年妇女。
The students called her “the old girl,” and even some of the teachers called her that too—“Someone go get the old girl to clean up this broken glass.” “Hey, you know what she does sometimes, that old girl?” One day, I overheard two students chatting quietly during a weekly cleanup shift.
学生们都叫她“老姑娘”，甚至有的老师也这么叫她——“谁去叫老姑娘把这碎玻璃清理干净。” “嘿，你知道那个老女孩有时会做什么吗？”有一天，我无意中听到两个学生在每周一次的清洁工作中小声聊天。
“She throws live crabs straight into the incinerator.
“她把活螃蟹直接扔进焚化炉。
Just grabs them with her tongs and tosses them in.
只需用她的钳子抓住它们并将它们扔进去即可。
You can smell them—it’s very strong, and briny.” “Really?
你可以闻到它们的味道——非常浓烈，还有咸味。” “真的吗？
That’s creepy.” “I wonder why she does it.” “That old girl has had a really hard life.” “How old do you think she is?” “Maybe sixty?
这太令人毛骨悚然了。” “我想知道她为什么这么做。” “那个老姑娘的日子过得真辛苦。” “你认为她多大了？” “也许六十？
Seventy?
七十？
But to do that to crabs .
但要对螃蟹这么做。
.
。
.” I strained to hear their conversation, but the next minute they began to discuss the PE teacher, who many of the girls had a crush on.
”。我努力听清他们的谈话，但下一分钟他们就开始讨论体育老师，很多女孩都喜欢他。
“Did you know Hara-sensei came second in track-and-field in his college championships?
“你知道原老师在大学锦标赛中获得田径第二名吗？
He was this close to competing nationally!” “How cool is that?!” “If he hadn’t gotten that leg injury .
他已经非常接近参加全国比赛了！” “那有多酷？！” “如果他没有受那条腿伤的话。
.
。
.
。
he’d still be training.” “He still looks sooo ripped.” I’d once seen the PE teacher step on a crab in the corridor.
他仍然会继续训练。” “他看起来还是很破烂。”我曾经在走廊里看到体育老师踩过一只螃蟹。
It was hard to tell if it was an accident or if he did it on purpose, but the way he kicked the shattered shell off the back of his heel seemed strangely well practiced.
很难说这是一次意外还是他故意的，但他踢掉脚后跟上碎壳的方式似乎出奇地熟练。
His sweatpants clung tightly to his muscular calves.
他的运动裤紧紧地贴着他肌肉发达的小腿。
Hara-sensei always had a green-apple fragrance wafting about him.
原老师身上总是弥漫着青苹果的香味。
“That shampoo of his—how can anything smell that good!” “And that curly hair!” “Where can I buy that shampoo?” “What, you want to smell like him?” “What if he notices?
“他那个洗发水——怎么有那么香啊！” “还有那卷发！” “哪里可以买到那种洗发水？” “什么，你想闻起来像他吗？” “如果他注意到了怎么办？
Well?
嗯？
What does that matter!”
这有什么关系！”
One day, after PE class, Hara-sensei chose me to put all the equipment away.
有一天，体育课结束后，原老师让我把所有的器材收起来。
I wasn’t particularly good at sports, so most likely it was a random choice.
我不太擅长运动，所以这很可能是一个随机的选择。
But it seemed to cause a commotion among my classmates.
但这似乎引起了同学们的骚动。
He was grinning slyly too—his narrow, angular chin, perfectly shaved, glinted in the sunlight reflecting off the sports field.
他也狡猾地笑着——他的下巴又窄又棱角分明，剃得很干净，在运动场反射的阳光下闪闪发光。
After putting away the equipment, I walked back, skirting the edge of the campus.
收好设备后，我沿着校园边缘走回去。
Something caught my eye beyond a cluster of bushes and trees: a rectangular block, roughly knee-high, about six inches wide on each side, jutting out of the ground.
灌木丛和树木后面有什么东西引起了我的注意：一个矩形块，大约齐膝高，每边约六英寸宽，从地面突出。
It appeared to be made of granite, with white speckles on a gray background, and the corners seemed worn down or eroded.
它似乎是由花岗岩制成的，灰色背景上有白色斑点，边角似乎磨损或被侵蚀。
One side was engraved with letters, but the inscription was hard to read, the markings were faded, almost as if they’d been scraped off.
一侧刻有字母，但铭文很难辨认，标记已经褪色，几乎就像被刮掉了一样。
For some reason, I’d never noticed it before.
出于某种原因，我以前从未注意到它。
The shadows of the trees swaying in the breeze flickered across it.
树影随风摇曳，在其上闪烁。
It looked like a gravestone, but much smaller.
它看起来像一块墓碑，但要小得多。
“What are you doing?” The voice startled me so much that I stopped breathing.
“你在干什么？”那声音吓得我停止了呼吸。
The school janitor emerged from a gap in the trees, smiling cheerfully.
学校看门人从树缝里钻了出来，笑容满面。
She wore overalls and a straw hat, and had a towel draped around her neck and pruning shears in her hands.
她穿着工作服，戴着草帽，脖子上挂着毛巾，手里拿着修枝剪。
Sweat glistened on the white foundation smeared across her face.
汗水在她脸上涂抹的白色粉底上闪闪发光。
“What are you doing?” she repeated.
“你在干什么？”她重复道。
I hesitated.
我犹豫了。
“I saw this.” My voice was hoarse: It’d been a while since I’d spoken to anyone.
“我看到了这个。”我的声音沙哑：我已经有一段时间没有和任何人说话了。
I pointed to the grave marker at our feet.
我指着我们脚下的墓碑。
“Did you fall over it?” she asked.
“你摔倒了吗？”她问道。
“Sorry?” “You didn’t trip on it?” I knew that I was the clumsiest student in my class, but even I wouldn’t have fallen over something that small.
“对不起？” “你没有绊倒吧？”我知道我是班里最笨的学生，但即使是我也不会因为这么小的事情摔倒。
I shook my head and the janitor’s cheerful expression returned.
我摇摇头，看门人又恢复了愉快的表情。
“Good.
” “好。
You wouldn’t want to trip over that and hurt yourself.” “What is it?” I asked.
你不想被它绊倒并伤害自己。” “那是什么？”我问。
My heart was pounding.
我的心砰砰直跳。
“It’s a marker.
“这是一个标记。
For where the old shoreline used to be,” she said simply, and snipped the tip off a branch of pale-pink berries with her shears.
原来的海岸线所在的地方，”她简单地说，然后用剪刀剪下了一根淡粉色浆果的枝头。
“The shoreline?” “These areas have been filled in so many times that the sea’s been pushed way out, but it used to come all the way up to this point.” She gestured with her shears to the school grounds, where moments ago girls had been running and jumping.
“海岸线？” “这些区域已经被填平了很多次，以至于海水被推到了外面，但过去它总是会达到这个地步。”她用剪刀指着学校操场，不久前女孩们还在学校里跑来跑去。
“The sea there.
“那儿的海。
A wide beach there.” A wind swept across the dry, brown grass, kicking up tiny grains of sand like powdered sugar.
那里有宽阔的海滩。”一阵风吹过干燥的棕色草地，扬起糖粉般的细小沙粒。
It was midday break, and the grounds were deserted.
当时正值午休，操场上空无一人。
On the other side of the field, the entrance to the gymnasium shed was a dark hole.
操场的另一边，体育馆棚的入口处是一个漆黑的洞。
“It’s strange, when you think about it,” the janitor continued.
“仔细想想，这很奇怪，”看门人继续说道。
“Dumping earth and sand into the sea, tamping it down, building a school and houses and roads everywhere, divvying the land up, and living there, without any concern at all.” So, I thought, there used to be sea here.
“把土和沙子扔到海里，把它压实，到处建学校、建房子、修路，分田地，住在那里，没有任何顾虑。”所以，我想，这里曾经有海。
I glanced down at my sneakers.
我低头看了一眼我的运动鞋。
White shoes were a school requirement, but mine were scuffed and gray.
学校要求穿白色鞋子，但我的鞋子已经磨损，呈灰色。
The janitor resumed snapping at the bushes with her shears—tiny, clear quartz beads scattered.
看门人又用剪刀剪断灌木丛——晶莹剔透的小石英珠散落一地。
“When I was a child, this whole area had already been filled in.
“当我还是个孩子的时候，这整个区域都已经被填满了。
See those low-rise huts for the construction workers?
看到那些建筑工人的低层小屋了吗？
I was about your age when they were working in that area.
当他们在那个地区工作时，我和你年纪相仿。
Back then, they built it by lugging whatever they had into the sea—junk, trash, and that sort of thing—and covering it with sand.
当时，他们把所有的东西拖进海里——垃圾、垃圾等等——然后用沙子覆盖来建造它。
When the trash reached the level of the water, they brought in horses and made them walk in circles all over it.
当垃圾到达水面时，他们牵来马，让它们在水面上绕圈行走。
The ground level would sink, the water would seep up, and the horses’ hooves would trudge through mud.
地面会下沉，水会渗出，马蹄会在泥泞中艰难前行。
Then they brought in more sand by truck .
然后他们用卡车运来更多的沙子。
.
。
.
。
Can you imagine such methods nowadays?
现在你能想象这样的方法吗？
Horses toiling away through mud .
马匹在泥泞中艰难前行。
.
。
.” “Wow,” I breathed.
”。 “哇，”我叹了口气。
“It is strange, isn’t it.” “Very.
“这很奇怪，不是吗？” ” “非常。
And for you, it may seem like the distant past, but to me it happened almost yesterday.
对你来说，这似乎是遥远的过去，但对我来说，这几乎发生在昨天。
When I was young, they told us that it was polluted up here, and the soil was rotten.
我小时候，他们告诉我们这里被污染了，土壤腐烂了。
But when my parents were kids, they used to collect shellfish on the beach here and cook them right over there.” And crabs, too?
但当我父母还是孩子的时候，他们经常在这里的海滩上收集贝类，然后在那里烹饪。”还有螃蟹吗？
I wondered.
我想知道。
There must’ve been hundreds of them, running all over these sand dunes.
它们肯定有数百只，在这些沙丘上奔跑。
The janitor squinted into the distance, shielding her eyes from the sun with a hand.
看门人眯着眼睛看着远处，用手遮住眼睛。
I shielded my eyes and looked in the same direction.
我遮住眼睛，看向同一个方向。
Roof after roof of ramshackle buildings.
一座又一座摇摇欲坠的屋顶。
The sea had once been there?
大海曾经存在过吗？
It seemed unbelievable.
这似乎令人难以置信。
“And they’re still at it.
“而且他们仍在努力。
They’re still trying to fill in the sea and make more land.
他们仍在努力填海并开垦更多土地。
When are they going to stop?
他们什么时候才会停下来？
And what’s the point, when the population is shrinking?
当人口减少时，还有什么意义呢？
When I had my daughter, I thought, Surely by the time she’s grown, they’ll have stopped with the landfill.
当我有了女儿时，我想，等她长大后，他们肯定会停止使用垃圾填埋场。
But no. If anything, it’s happening even more.” “Wait, so you have a child?” I asked.
但没有。如果说有什么不同的话，那就是这种情况发生得更多。” “等等，所以你有孩子了？”我问。
It seemed so unexpected.
看起来是那么的出乎意料。
She chuckled.
她咯咯笑起来。
“A child, yes.” And then: “Shouldn’t you be heading back?
“一个孩子，是的。”然后：“你不该回去吗？
You’re going to miss lunch.” “All right!” “You should eat more.
你会错过午餐的。” “好的！” “你应该多吃一点。
You’re way too skinny.
你太瘦了。
Put on a bit of weight.
增加一点重量。
You’re delicate.
你很脆弱。
Life’s about being strong.
人生就是要坚强。
You’re going to understand that, any day now.” “I am?” “Yes.
现在你随时都会明白这一点。” “我是？”是的。
Any day now, and in all the years ahead.
现在的任何一天，以及未来的所有岁月。
You girls have no idea what’s coming.” The janitor resumed steadily snipping the bushes with her shears.
你们这些女孩不知道会发生什么。”看门人继续用剪刀不断地修剪灌木丛。
“I feel sorry for you.” “What do you mean?” “Oh .
“我为你感到难过。” “你是什么意思？” “哦。”
.
。
.
。
nothing.
什么也没有。
Nothing.
什么也没有。
You’ve got all kinds of things to look forward to.” The clipped berries lay around the marker like the petals of a flower.
你有各种各样的事情值得期待。”剪下来的浆果像花瓣一样躺在标记周围。
So, this had all been the sea.
所以，这一切都是大海。
The shoreline had come all the way up here.
海岸线一直延伸到这里。
That must be why the crabs made their visits.
这一定就是螃蟹来访的原因。
In the past the shoreline had been here, even if it had disappeared decades or perhaps hundreds of years ago: The crabs had been coming since time immemorial.
过去，海岸线一直在这里，即使它在几十年前甚至几百年前就消失了：螃蟹自远古以来就一直来到这里。
Something deep and instinctive was calling them back.
某种深刻而本能的东西正在召唤他们回来。
Once they arrived here, they’d find that there was no sea, and they would wander around not knowing what to do.
到了这里，他们发现这里没有海，他们就茫然不知所措。
I opened the classroom door.
我打开教室门。
Voices, voices, voices, chirping, screeching, rising high to a crescendo, dipping low for a moment, then soaring straight up again.
声音，声音，声音，叽叽喳喳，尖叫声，高高地升到渐强，低沉了一会儿，然后又直线上升。
The smell of food drifted from lunch boxes.
饭盒里飘出饭菜的香味。
I walked up to my desk.
我走到我的办公桌前。
Atop my neatly folded school uniform on the desk was a crab.
桌子上我折叠整齐的校服上面有一只螃蟹。
A dead crab, turned toward me.
一只死螃蟹，转向我。
I stared at it.
我盯着它。
The voices took on a more frenetic tone.
声音变得更加疯狂。
Here and there I could hear little sounds of ridicule directed at me.
我时不时地听到一些针对我的嘲笑声。
I took the crab in my hand.
我把螃蟹拿在手里。
It was all in one piece, its legs and pincers were intact.
它浑然一体，腿和钳子都完好无损。
It was dry and weighed nothing.
它是干燥的，没有重量。
Unmistakably dead, it looked like a perfect specimen for the lab.
它毫无疑问已经死了，看起来像是实验室的完美标本。
The classroom gradually quieted down.
教室渐渐安静下来。
I stared at its two dull, sand-colored eyes.
我盯着它两只暗淡的沙色眼睛。
For a second, I was sure I saw my own reflection in their damp surface.
有那么一瞬间，我确信我在潮湿的表面上看到了自己的倒影。
I imagined its muscles, muddy and wet with water from the sea, as it ran across the shining dunes.
我想象着当它跑过闪亮的沙丘时，它的肌肉浑身泥泞，被海水浸湿。
A classmate who had probably gone out to the school store walked in and froze, sensing the strange shift in the atmosphere.
一位可能去学校商店的同学走进来，感觉到气氛的奇怪变化，愣住了。
Everyone was staring with bated breath at the quietest and plainest girl in the entire class, maybe in the entire school, standing there in her gym shorts, with whatever it was in her palm.
每个人都屏息凝视着全班乃至全校最安静、最朴素的女孩，穿着运动短裤站在那里，手里拿着什么东西。
“What’s going on?” she mouthed.
“这是怎么回事？”她用嘴说道。
Quickly, before anyone could respond, I picked up the crab, set it down next to my uniform on my desk, and, with brisk efficiency, changed out of my gym clothes.
很快，在其他人反应过来之前，我拿起螃蟹，把它放在桌子上我的制服旁边，然后迅速换掉了我的运动服。
As I buttoned up my blouse, the classroom erupted back into chatter.
当我扣上衬衫的扣子时，教室里又爆发出一阵议论声。
Once I was fully dressed, I slipped the crab into a pocket in the pleats of my skirt.
穿好衣服后，我把螃蟹塞进裙子褶皱的口袋里。
Someone hissed loudly through her teeth.
有人从她的牙齿中发出大声的嘶嘶声。
The crab fit neatly into my pocket, a thin, light, barely discernible presence.
螃蟹整齐地放进我的口袋里，薄而轻，几乎难以辨认。
I’d already been walking around with my head bowed—I was never going to lift it now.
我已经低着头四处走动了——现在我再也不敢抬起头了。
On my way home, I stopped on the bridge and threw the crab into the river.
回家的路上，我在桥上停下来，把螃蟹扔进河里。
The shell was so light that the breeze carried it for a moment before it dropped straight down.
贝壳很轻，微风吹过它片刻，就径直落了下来。
Just before it sank beneath the water, I thought I saw a flicker of movement in its pincer.
就在它沉入水下之前，我想我看到它的钳子在闪烁。
Was it the river, or did my palms smell of the sea?
是河水的味道，还是我的手掌有大海的味道？
It reminded me of blood.
它让我想起了血。
After that day, from time to time, I went to look at that stone marker of the shoreline.
那天之后，我时不时地去看那岸边的石碑。
There was nothing really there.
那里真的什么也没有。
I never ran into anyone.
我从来没有遇到过任何人。
It was a secluded place, surrounded by trees and the school grounds, the buildings out of sight.
那是一个僻静的地方，周围都是树木和校园，建筑物看不见。
One day, I spread out a large handkerchief, sat down, and tried to see if I could sense the waves beneath me, the tides, the pull of the current.
有一天，我摊开一块大手帕，坐下来，试着看看我是否能感觉到脚下的波浪、潮汐和水流的牵引力。
But I felt nothing.
但我什么感觉也没有。
The ground was firm, layers and layers of dry earth.
地面很坚固，一层又一层的干土。
A single crab crossed in front of me.
一只螃蟹从我面前走过。
Its underside was smeared with sand.
它的底面沾满了沙子。
It moved slowly, as if exhausted, as if some mechanism inside it had broken, and yet it was trying to keep going, sidling along.
它缓慢地移动着，仿佛筋疲力尽，仿佛体内的某种机制坏了，但它却试图继续前行，侧着走。
Above me, the sky was fringed with trees.
在我的头顶上，天空周围长满了树木。
I touched the sand on my fingertips and raised them to my tongue—they didn’t taste salty or dry.
我用指尖触摸沙子，然后将它们举到舌头上——它们尝起来不咸也不干。
At the bottom edge of the marker, a few centimeters from the base, I noticed something red.
在标记的底部边缘，距底部几厘米处，我注意到一些红色的东西。
I lay on my stomach and crawled closer, peering at it.
我趴在地上，爬得更近，凝视着它。
Five round nodules, each about a centimeter wide, clustered together like grapes, were stuck to the stone.
石头上粘着五个圆形的结节，每个约一厘米宽，像葡萄一样聚集在一起。
Their surfaces were slightly bumpy, and they had a firm texture, like rubber.
它们的表面有些凹凸不平，质地坚硬，就像橡胶一样。
Inside, I saw liquid, part of it dark red, the other pink.
里面有液体，一部分是深红色，另一部分是粉红色。
In color and shape, they were strikingly like salmon roe.
它们的颜色和形状都与鲑鱼子惊人地相似。
Slightly hard salmon roe .
鲑鱼子稍硬。
.
。
.
。
So, some kind of creature’s eggs?
那么，某种生物的蛋？
I thought of the crab that had just crossed my path.
我想起了刚刚从我面前经过的螃蟹。
Could these belong to that crab?
这些会是那只螃蟹的吗？
It must’ve come up to lay them on the shoreline and bury them in the dunes or in some crevice in the rock.
它一定是来把它们放在海岸线上并埋在沙丘或岩石的缝隙中的。
That’s what it was, I thought—the mystery was solved.
事情就是这样，我想——谜团已经解开了。
Tiny creatures like crabs and ants traveled huge distances, encountering all sorts of dangers—driven by the instinct to lay eggs and reproduce at any cost.
像螃蟹和蚂蚁这样的微小生物，在不惜一切代价产卵和繁殖的本能的驱使下，长途跋涉，遇到了各种各样的危险。
This was the sole purpose of their brief existence.
这是他们短暂存在的唯一目的。
It simply wasn’t in their nature to be aware of how pointless this effort was, how it was full of pain and struggle.
他们的本性根本不知道这种努力是多么毫无意义，充满痛苦和挣扎。
I looked around.
我环顾四周。
The crab was gone: It was nowhere to be seen, even though it had seemed exhausted and about to die when I’d seen it moments before.
螃蟹不见了：无处可见，尽管我刚才看到它时它看起来已经筋疲力尽，快要死了。
I couldn’t see any trace of it: There was no shell lying anywhere.
我看不到它的任何踪迹：到处都没有贝壳。
Using my fingernail, I pried the eggs from the stone.
我用指甲把鸡蛋从石头上撬下来。
They popped off with a little click.
咔哒一声，它们就弹出来了。
They didn’t break in my fingers.
它们没有折断我的手指。
The liquid inside glinted in the sunlight as I tipped them sideways, the red segments remaining distinct from the pink segments.
当我将它们倾斜到侧面时，里面的液体在阳光下闪闪发光，红色部分与粉色部分截然不同。
Each bead seemed like a tiny world, a tiny universe.
每一颗珠子都像是一个小世界，一个小宇宙。
I slipped the eggs into my pocket and picked up the handkerchief I had been sitting on in the sand.
我把鸡蛋塞进口袋，捡起坐在沙子上的手帕。
It was damp with moisture.
它被湿气弄湿了。
By the time I got to university, I’d become more capable of talking to people.
当我进入大学时，我变得更有能力与人交谈。
At a party, I found myself in conversation with a biology major.
在一次聚会上，我发现自己正在与一位生物学专业的学生交谈。
We barely knew each other—we’d only spoken once or twice—but in the privacy afforded by the noise all around us, I ended up telling him about the crabs.
我们几乎不认识——我们只说过一两次话——但在我们周围的噪音所提供的隐私中，我最终告诉了他关于螃蟹的事情。
It was the first time I’d ever told anyone.
这是我第一次告诉任何人。
I described how they came to my school in search of the sea, how the shoreline had once been there but wasn’t any longer, how I’d found a cluster of red crab eggs.
我描述了他们如何来到我的学校寻找大海，海岸线如何曾经在那里但现在不再存在，我如何发现一簇红蟹蛋。
He listened, nodding along, but when I mentioned the eggs, he burst out laughing.
他听着，点点头，但当我提到鸡蛋时，他突然大笑起来。
He held a shochu sour in one hand.
他一只手拿着一杯烧酒。
“No way.
” “没办法。
That’s impossible,” he declared.
这是不可能的，”他宣称。
“Huh?” “Those couldn’t have been the eggs of a crab.
“嗯？” “那些不可能是螃蟹的蛋。
Crabs keep their eggs tucked in a cavity under their bodies.
螃蟹将卵藏在身体下方的空腔中。
They carry tens of thousands of them because so many fail to survive.
他们携带了数以万计的人，因为太多人无法生存。
The tiny eggs are transparent like plankton and they hatch as soon as they’re released into the sea.
这些微小的卵像浮游生物一样透明，一旦被释放到海里就会孵化。
Crabs would never lay eggs that big, for a start, and they would never deposit them on dry land.
首先，螃蟹永远不会产那么大的卵，它们也永远不会将卵产在干燥的土地上。
I’m no specialist in crustaceans, but I can say with one hundred percent certainty that those weren’t crab eggs.” And yet I was sure of what I saw.
我不是甲壳类动物专家，但我可以百分百肯定地说那些不是蟹蛋。”但我对我所看到的很确定。
They couldn’t have been anything else.
他们不可能是其他任何东西。
“They must’ve been eggs of some other animal.
“它们一定是其他动物的蛋。
And you don’t know if they were even eggs.
你甚至不知道它们是否是鸡蛋。
You say they were red and round and springy?
你说它们又红又圆又有弹性？
You probably just found some kind of toy.” They were eggs.
你可能刚刚发现了某种玩具。”它们是鸡蛋。
No mistake about it.
没有错。
And they were not a toy.
而且它们不是玩具。
They were the eggs of a living creature.
它们是生物的卵。
I remembered how smooth they’d felt, how firm and unmistakably alive.
我记得他们当时的感觉是多么顺利、多么坚定、多么充满活力。
Which other creature would have laid its eggs in such a place—which other creature would have had that distant memory of a shoreline buried deep inside?
还有哪个生物会在这样的地方产卵——还有哪个生物会对深埋的海岸线有遥远的记忆？
“Female crabs.” “Huh?” “So you’re saying that the crabs showing up in your school were exclusively females.
“母蟹。” “嗯？” “所以你是说你们学校里出现的螃蟹都是雌性。
And they were all just about to lay their eggs.
他们都快要产卵了。
And all following an innate biological drive.
而这一切都遵循与生俱来的生物驱动力。
Right?” “Yeah, that’s right.” I gave a small nod.
对吗？ “是啊，没错。”我微微点头。
“But logically, if that was the only place they could lay their eggs, they would’ve gone extinct long ago.
“但从逻辑上讲，如果那是它们唯一可以产卵的地方，它们早就灭绝了。
Think of all the decades since the landfill started.” “.
想想自垃圾填埋场开始以来的几十年。” “。
.
。
.
。
Right.” I drained the last few drops of my drink.
正确的。”我喝干了最后几滴饮料。
Ice banged against my upper lip.
冰块撞击着我的上唇。
“And on top of that, you say you used to see tons of crabs at school, but if you’re right, you would’ve noticed the eggs before, and in other places as well.” It was true.
“最重要的是，你说你曾经在学校看到过大量的螃蟹，但如果你是对的，你以前就会注意到这些鸡蛋，在其他地方也是如此。”这是真的。
I’d looked out for them, but I’d only seen eggs there once, that one time.
我一直在寻找它们，但我只在那儿见过一次鸡蛋。
“I really don’t understand it myself .
“我自己实在是不太明白。
.
。
.” I could hear my voice getting higher.
”。我听见我的声音越来越高。
I was speaking haltingly, the words wanting to come out in a rush.
我结结巴巴地说着话，想要匆匆说出来。
He waved to a waiter for a refill of his shochu sour.
他向服务员招手，要他续杯烧酒。
I crunched my ice.
我咬碎了冰块。
“And what happened to those eggs in the end?
“那些蛋最后怎么样了？
You put them in your pocket, and then what .
你把它们放进口袋里，然后呢。
.
。
.
。
?” “I threw them into the river, too.” “You threw something else in?” “No, no. I mean I just threw them away.
？” “我也把它们扔进河里了。” “你还扔了别的东西进去吗？” “不，不。我的意思是我只是把它们扔掉了。
I wanted them to end up close to the water.” “And what happened?” “I don’t know.
我希望它们最终能靠近水。” “发生了什么事？” “我不知道。
They dropped down, floated up for a second, and then sank to the bottom.” He looked down, holding back laughter.
它们掉下来，浮起一秒钟，然后沉到底部。”他低下头，忍住笑声。
His big, wet, horselike teeth flashed briefly.
他那又大又湿、像马一样的牙齿短暂地闪过。
“The library is bound to have an encyclopedia of crustaceans.
“图书馆里一定有一本甲壳类动物百科全书。
You won’t be able to borrow it, but why don’t you see if you can find your crabs there?” He squeezed his lemon wedge into his drink, spraying a sour moisture into the air.
你借不到，但你为什么不看看那里能找到你的螃蟹呢？”他把柠檬片挤进饮料里，向空气中喷洒出一股酸味。
I wiped my fingers with my handkerchief.
我用手帕擦了擦手指。
“I mean it,” he added.
“我是认真的，”他补充道。
“Do it.
“做吧。
High school girl discov ers hitherto unknown crab species .” “I’m not in high school.” “But you were then.
高中女生发现了迄今为止未知的螃蟹物种。” “我还没上高中。” “但那时的你。
Though I can’t guess how you looked in your school uniform, Kana-chan.” “Me?
虽然我猜不出来你穿校服的样子，小加奈。” “我？
Very ordinary.” “Right.” A strained laugh escaped him, and from beneath his drab flannel button-down shirt, I caught the strong smell of his sweat.
很普通。” “正确的。”他发出一声勉强的笑声，从他那件单调的法兰绒纽扣衬衫下面，我闻到了他浓烈的汗味。
On my next trip home, I visited the river.
在我下次回家的路上，我参观了这条河。
I took the train
我坐火车
to the station and walked along the familiar route.
到了车站，沿着熟悉的路线走去。
A yellow bulldozer was parked diagonally on the embankment.
路堤斜对角停着一辆黄色推土机。
Otherwise, the scene from the bridge was just as I’d remembered: tall reeds swaying, the river full of smooth, brownish water.
除此之外，桥上的景色就和我记忆中的一模一样：高高的芦苇摇曳，河水泛着光滑的褐色。
A flock of sparrows had gathered in the reeds, chirping noisily.
一群麻雀聚集在芦苇丛中，叽叽喳喳地叫着。
They would land on the tips of the reeds, pulling them down with their weight, then immediately flutter up, repeating the same motion, as if playing some kind of game.
它们会落在芦苇的尖端上，用自身的重量将它们拉下来，然后立即振翅起来，重复同样的动作，就像在玩某种游戏一样。
It looked like harmless behavior—a group of sparrows doing the same thing over and over, all chirping and chattering excitedly.
这看起来像是无害的行为——一群麻雀一遍又一遍地做同样的事情，兴奋地叽叽喳喳地叽叽喳喳。
A single sparrow’s chirp was soft, but a whole group together created an unpleasant cacophony.
一只麻雀的叫声很轻柔，但一群麻雀聚集在一起就会发出令人不快的刺耳声音。
I watched from the bridge, gazing dreamily, when suddenly, in between the reed tips, something long and pointed broke through the surface of the water—it was white, and pronged, and thick.
我在桥上痴痴地望着，突然，在芦苇尖之间，有一个又长又尖的东西冲破了水面——它是白色的，尖头的，厚实的。
Alarmed, I stared at it: a huge crab claw, its serrated pincers interlocked, the outer edges a sandy orange color, strands of seaweed tangled on its rough surface.
我惊恐地盯着它：一只巨大的蟹爪，锯齿状的钳子相互交错，外缘呈沙橙色，粗糙的表面上缠绕着一缕缕海藻。
Any crab that large would have to be a monster: The claw was the size of a human child.
任何这么大的螃蟹都一定是怪物：它的爪子有人类孩子那么大。
The sparrows fluttered into the air, wings beating against each other in panic.
麻雀们在空中扑腾着翅膀，惊慌地拍打着翅膀。
But one of them, perhaps too slow, or too confused, lingered a second longer, and the claw opened and snapped shut.
但其中一个也许太慢了，或者太混乱了，又多停留了一秒钟，爪子张开又猛地合上。
Caught in that enormous claw, the sparrow looked tiny: Its pale body barely visible against the faint yellow-brown surface of the pincers.
被那只巨大的爪子抓住的麻雀显得很小：在淡黄棕色的钳子表面的映衬下，它苍白的身体几乎看不见。
From where I stood, I could hardly see the sparrow, just a faint, desperate flailing.
从我站的地方，我几乎看不到麻雀，只有微弱而绝望的扑腾声。
White feathers fell into the water.
白色的羽毛掉进了水里。
The other sparrows had all flown off.
其他的麻雀都飞走了。
I could still hear nearby chirping.
我仍然能听到附近的叽叽喳喳声。
Were the sparrows watching too, from somewhere I couldn’t see?
麻雀也在我看不见的地方注视着吗？
Or was it a different flock?
或者是不同的羊群？
Slowly, the giant claw, still clutching the sparrow, sank into the river, the tips of its pincers slipping beneath the surface with a plop.
巨爪还抓着麻雀，慢慢地沉入了河水中，爪尖扑通一声滑入了水面。
Ripples expanded outward, losing their shape as they merged with the steadily flowing current of the river.
涟漪向外扩散，在与稳定流动的河水融合时失去了形状。
I lifted my gaze toward the estuary.
我抬起目光，看向河口。
In the distance, a huge mobile crane, or some other piece of machinery, loomed, impossibly tall, shimmering in the air like a mirage.
远处，一架巨大的移动式起重机，或者其他什么机器，若隐若现，高得令人难以置信，在空中闪闪发光，就像海市蜃楼一样。
The reclamation work was ongoing.
填海工程正在进行中。
Who knew, now, where the original shoreline lay?
现在谁知道原来的海岸线在哪里？
The sea would come in, and then recede again, endlessly.
大海会进来，然后又退去，永无休止。
It would never stop.
它永远不会停止。
I continued walking to my old school.
我继续步行到我以前的学校。
The gate had been locked with a padlock.
大门是用挂锁锁着的。
A sign on the bars read: Authorized Personnel Only.
酒吧上有一个标志，上面写着：仅限授权人员。
The school grounds had fallen completely silent.
校园里鸦雀无声。
The fence was covered in rust.
栅栏已经生锈了。
Weeds pushed up between the cracks in the sidewalks.
杂草从人行道的裂缝中长出来。
The windows were dark—I didn’t think it was because school was on break.
窗户很黑——我不认为这是因为学校放假。
This was a place that had died, a place where life no longer existed.
这是一个已经死亡的地方，一个不再有生命存在的地方。
I felt a tiny vibration in my pocket.
我感觉到口袋里有轻微的震动。
It was my phone.
那是我的手机。
The screen showed the name of the student who’d laughed at my crab-egg story.
屏幕上显示了嘲笑我的蟹蛋故事的学生的名字。
I heard a soft scuttling sound and felt tiny sharp-tipped legs climbing up my ankles.
我听到一阵轻柔的爬行声，感觉到尖尖的小腿爬上了我的脚踝。
“Crabs” translated by Lucy North from Garden , copyright © 2018 by Hiroko Oyamada, translation copyright © 2026 by Lucy North.
《花园》中的《螃蟹》，由 Lucy North 翻译，版权所有 © 2018，Hiroko Oyamada，翻译版权所有 © 2026，Lucy North。
Reprinted by permission of New Directions Publishing Corp.
经新方向出版公司许可转载。