湖之节

柠檬水

Lemonade

星期六早上，厨房里有柠檬的味道。到处都是柠檬：桌子上、椅子上、地上。

On Saturday morning, the kitchen smells of lemons. There are lemons everywhere: on the table, on the chairs, on the floor.

埃莱娜： 罗莎做了四十年的节日柠檬水。两百个柠檬。糖、水、一点薄荷。还有一个秘密。

Elena: Rosa made the lemonade for the festival for forty years. Two hundred lemons. Sugar, water, a little mint. And one secret.

“什么秘密？”

“What secret?”

埃莱娜： 如果我告诉你，这就不是秘密了。

Elena: If I tell you, it’s not a secret.

她挤一个柠檬，汁水溅到了她的眼镜上。她笑了。我也笑了。这是很长时间以来的第一个好早晨。

She squeezes a lemon, and the juice jumps onto her glasses. She laughs. I laugh too. It is the first good morning in a long time.

“你今晚去节日活动吗？”

“Will you come to the festival tonight?”

埃莱娜： 当然去。这是我最后一次节日了。总要有人卖柠檬水。你不会用意大利语数钱。

Elena: Of course. It’s my last festival. Somebody has to sell the lemonade. You can’t count money in Italian.

“你最后一次节日？”

“Your last festival?”

她没有回答。她切下一个柠檬。手比刚才更用力了一点。

She doesn’t answer. She cuts the next lemon. A little harder than before.