就算长痘又何妨

2016-04-08

新东方英语·中学版 2016年4期

青春年少时，相信谁都不可避免地长过痘痘吧？当痘痘悄然而至甚至“纷至沓来”，霸占了你脸部的“一方净土”时，你会不忍直视它们吗？你会无比在意、不愿见人吗？其实，痘痘本没有那么可怕，就看你如何看待它。本文的主人公就是一位内心越来越强大的战“痘”者，一起来看看他是如何在战“痘”之路上成长的吧！

At some point in the past year I developed a habit of avoiding mirrors. It was gradual and subconscious， but eventually it rooted itself in my mind.

Ultimately， I had an encounter with my reflection while washing my hands in a restaurant bathroom. It became apparent then what had driven me away from looking at myself ... I had The Reds.

Some might refer to The Reds as pimples1） or acne2）， but mine were not your everyman's3） pimples； what I was dealing with here were erupting lumps4） of flesh. Flaming red， no less. While other kids were popping5） zits6） after a week， I was nursing7） mine to "calm down a bit"， as my mother put it. The chance of them actually disappearing was almost laughable； my only hope was that they might just "take it down a notch8）" and level out9） to where my forehead skin usually rests.

Looking at myself in the restroom mirror only confirmed what I should have accepted long ago. My brothers had already taken up the duty of attacking me with comments such as "Ooh， I see Mt. Kilimanjaro is peaking mighty high up there on your forehead". How funny. Soon enough my forehead hosted what appeared to be the world's highest mountains： Everest， Kanchenjunga10）， McKinley11）. Each had a spot12） on my face to call its own13）. Somewhere deep down， I felt as if I had a vested interest14） in each and every one of them. If I was going to endure comments about how I should wash my face and quit eating greasy foods （which， I might note， does not stop acne）， at least I could become a bit more intimate with the temporary guests on my forehead.

I found myself staring at each pimple in the morning， mentally recording its growth and even applauding its development. I applauded more， of course， if it decreased its size in some rare but laudable15） act. Either way， friends and strangers were always willing to lend their tips and support. It was as if the citizens of my town had become overnight experts on dermatology16）. They spoke in a coy17） and indirect manner as if to avoid hurting feelings or sounding cruel： "What do you know about witch hazel18）？ I hear it does wonders for skin. Not that I'm saying you should use it， just telling you what I heard."

What they didn't understand was that The Reds are like some sort of advanced tuberculosis19）， resistant to drugs， able to change and thrive in any environment. The Reds don't just react to skin-care products. They act. If I ever did find an effective face wash， I soon realized that focusing on my forehead only caused a new flare-up20） on my cheek. Focus on scraping the face wash on my cheek， and the corner of my lip would bulge with a red welt21）， bigger than any I'd ever seen. When I thought I had my whole face covered， bumps formed beneath my eyebrows. The Reds were innovative agents22） of change， willing to go wherever a temporarily potent face wash forced them to go.

Sometimes I thought about my dad's situation. Before I was born， he developed skin cancer， which was successfully removed during a long， drawn-out surgery. Unfortunately， the procedure left him with a massive scar across his cheek. Of course， I never paid any attention to it， living with him and all， but in large crowds， he drew stares. A conversation with someone and you would soon notice that person listening to him while subconsciously itching or rubbing the side of their face， a constant reminder as to where their mind really was in the exchange23）. On a smaller scale， I noticed the same traits in people I encountered. While we started out speaking eye to eye， we ended up speaking eye to forehead， their gaze getting higher and higher.

Mentioning it only made things that much more awkward. It left me feeling less than human， knowing that my body—my face—was more important than who I was altogether.

But like many teen-centered issues， The Reds would eventually disappear. From Mt. Kilimanjaro on， each mountain toppled over. Some would leave scars from my constant scratching and squeezing， while others departed in a quieter manner， as if they had never erupted in the first place. Either way， I gradually settled with the embarrassment and grief I carried in my own face. The Reds or not， I decided I wouldn't let them keep me from enjoying the life I wanted to lead.

I think back to a trip to Universal Studios with my dad. We sat at a table finishing lunch before we headed toward another line for a ride. He ate casually， but between bites it seemed as if I were the only one aware of the visitors who happened to walk by and make note of his cheek. I leaned in to Dad and expressed my concern. "I really wish they wouldn't stare like that. What's their problem？" He barely glanced up from his food as he issued his response. "Who cares？ I know I don't， that much is certain. Let'em stare. Learned that lesson a long time ago."

Such simple wisdom hit me deep in my heart of hearts. He wasn't about to let anyone influence how he felt at the given moment. He's got a scar ... and it doesn't even matter， not to him at least. Maybe to the people walking by it did， but to him？ Not a chance. When we finished eating， we proceeded to have the time of our lives. Be it my forehead or his cheek， some would gawk24）， others would gape25）， but I can say with the utmost sincerity that we were the last to notice， and the last to care.

从去年的某个时候开始，我逐渐养成了不愿照镜子的习惯。这个习惯起初是无意识慢慢形成的，但最终在我的脑海里扎了根。

终于有一天，当我在一家餐厅的洗手间洗手时，我无意中看到了镜中的自己。令我一直无法直视自己的原因这下子清楚了——我长了大红包。

有的人也许会把这些大红包叫做粉刺或痤疮，不过，我长的这些包可跟你们一般人长的不一样。我要对付的是突然大批冒出的肿块，而且它们居然是鲜红色的。当别的孩子一周后就能把脓疱挤掉时，我的包在我的精心照顾之下只是变得——用我妈妈的话说——“平静了一些”。想让它们真正消失几乎是个笑话，我唯一的希望是它们可以刚好“稍加收敛一下”，平复到我的额头皮肤本来的高度。

看着洗手间镜子里的自己只是证实了我早就该承认的事实。我的兄弟们早已将打击我视为己任，比如他们会评论说：“嗬，我看见乞力马扎罗山在你的脑门上冒得好高好高呐。”真好笑。没用多久，我的脑门上看起来就好像是世界最高峰都来安家了一样，有珠穆朗玛峰、干城章嘉峰、麦金利峰。每座高峰都在我的脸上有自己名下的一个包。在我心底的某个角落，我觉得自己似乎跟这些包中的每一个都息息相关。对于我该怎么洗脸以及戒掉油腻食品这类的意见（我要指出，这么做并不能预防痘痘），如果我打算去忍受，那对脑门上的这些临时访客我至少可以表现得更亲近一点。

我发现自己会在早上端详每一个痘痘，并在心里记下它们的生长状况，甚至为它们的长势叫好。当然，如果它们难得变小了一点（这令人称道），我会更加大声叫好。不管怎样，朋友们和陌生人都总是乐意为我提供他们的小窍门，送上他们的支持。仿佛我们镇上的居民一夜之间就都摇身一变成了皮肤专家。他们忸怩而婉转地对我说（好像是为了避免伤害我的感情或避免让自己显得太冷酷似的）：“你对金缕梅酊剂了解不？我听说它对皮肤问题有奇效。我可不是说你应该用它，只是告诉你我听说的哈。”

他们不明白的是，这些大红包就像是某种晚期结核病一样，具有抗药性，能够变化并可以在任何环境下茁壮成长。对于护肤产品，这些大红包不只是做出反应，它们会采取行动。即使我真的找到了一种管用的洗面乳，我也很快就会发现，把精力全部放在脑门上只会导致我的脸上突然泛起一片新的红包。我忙着用洗面乳使劲去洗脸，可嘴角上又会肿起一个大到前所未见的红疙瘩。当我以为自己已经把脸上的每个地方都照顾到了时，我的眉毛下边又鼓起了一堆肿包。这些大红包富于创新、灵活善变，愿意前往暂时见效的洗面乳将它们驱往的任何地方。

有时我会想到爸爸的情况。他在我出生之前得了皮肤癌，经过一次极其漫长的手术，病灶被成功切除了。遗憾的是，那次手术在他脸上留下了一道大大的伤疤。当然，由于我们一直生活在一起以及诸如此类的事情，我从来不会留意他的伤疤，但是在人多的地方，他总会引来旁人的目光。当他跟别人说话时，你很快就会发现，对方一边在听他讲话，一边在下意识地去挠挠或是蹭蹭自己的脸，这个动作时刻提醒着你他们的心思在谈话过程中其实在哪里。我在我遇到的那些人身上也发现了同样的特征，虽然表现得没有那么明显。谈话伊始，我们还能看着彼此的眼睛，可是他们的目光渐渐上移，聊到最后，眼睛就盯在我的脑门上了。

提及这一点只会让场面变得越发尴尬。发现我的身体——我的脸——比我整个人还要重要，这让我感觉自己低人一等。

不过，和许多主要发生在青少年身上的问题一样，大红包最终也会退去。从“乞力马扎罗山”包开始，每座“峰”包都倒下了。有一些包会因为我经常挠、经常挤而留下疤痕，另一些在离去时则更加悄无声息，仿佛它们从来就没有冒出来过一样。不管怎样，我渐渐地与我的脸带给我的尴尬和难过达成了和解。不管是大红包还是别的什么，我决意不让它们阻挡我去享受自己想要过的那种生活。

我想起了跟爸爸一起去环球影城游玩的那次经历。在前去排队等候玩下一处游乐设施前，我们坐在一张餐桌旁吃午饭。他漫不经心地吃着，但在这期间，仿佛只有我注意到了当那些游客恰好从我们身边经过时，他们会留意爸爸的脸颊。我朝爸爸探过身去，表达了我的关心：“我真希望他们别那么盯着你看。他们是不是有毛病啊？”爸爸几乎都没有将视线从他的食物上提高一点儿，就发出了自己的回应：“谁在乎呢？反正我知道我不在乎。让他们盯着去吧。我早就把这种事儿想明白了。”

如此朴素的智慧令我的内心深感震撼。他不打算让任何人影响到他在某一时刻的心情。他有道疤……但那根本无关紧要，至少对他而言是这样的。也许对那些从他身旁经过的人来说这件事很重要，可对他而言呢？完全没有这种可能。吃完饭后，我们继续尽情享受时光。无论是我的脑门还是他的脸颊，有的人会呆头呆脑地盯着看，有的人会目瞪口呆地注视着，不过我可以以最真诚的态度说，我们自己根本没注意，也根本不在意。

1. pimple [?p?mpl] n. 【医】丘疹；粉刺；小脓疱

2. acne [??kni] n. 【医】痤疮，粉刺

3. everyman [?evrim?n] n. 普通人，凡夫俗子

4. lump [l?mp] n. 隆起，肿块

5. pop [p?p] vt. 使爆裂

6. zit [z?t] n. <口>小脓疱；丘疹

7. nurse [n??s] vt. 调养，调治（疾病）

8. take sb. down a notch：压低某人的气焰

9. level out：变得平坦，变得平整

10. Kanchenjunga：干城章嘉峰，世界第三高峰，位于喜马拉雅山脉中段尼泊尔及印度边界处。

11. McKinley：麦金利峰，北美洲最高峰，位于美国阿拉斯加州东南部。

12. spot [sp?t] n. 粉刺，丘疹；脓疱