Two Hands

A priest was helping N., and N. walked with a stick. It wasn’t much for a front page. On Monday morning I started where every journalist starts: with the people who keep the evidence in their kitchen drawers.

一位神父在帮 N,而 N 拄着拐杖。这上不了头版。星期一早上,我从每个记者都会开始的地方开始:去找那些把证据放在厨房抽屉里的人。

I wrote a card at the breakfast table. “DID YOU KEEP YOUR LETTERS FROM N.? I would love to see them, for a story about our square. Leila, upstairs.” I added my phone number and drew a small star in the corner. Then I went down and put the card in the shop window, between the advertisement for a lost cat and the one for piano lessons.

我在早饭桌上写了一张卡片。”您留着 N 写给您的信吗?我很想看看,我在写一个关于我们广场的故事。Leila,住楼上。”我写上了电话号码,还在角上画了一颗小星星。然后我下楼,把卡片贴在店里的橱窗上,贴在寻猫启事和钢琴课广告的中间。

My father came in from the street with the newspapers. He put them on the counter. He saw the card. He took it out of the window, read it, and put it under the till without a word.

爸爸拿着报纸从街上进来。他把报纸放在柜台上。他看见了那张卡片。他把它从橱窗里取下来,读了一遍,一句话也没说,放到了收银机下面。

“Baba.”

“爸爸。”

“This is a shop window,” he said. “For things people can buy.”

“这是店里的橱窗,”他说,”是给人们买东西用的。”

“The piano lessons aren’t for sale.”

“钢琴课也不是卖的东西。”

“Ruth pays me two pounds a month for the piano lessons.” He began to cut the string on the newspapers. “And the cat is lost. People must help with a lost cat.”

“Ruth 每个月为钢琴课的广告付我两英镑。”他开始剪报纸上的绳子。”还有,猫丢了。猫丢了,人们应该帮忙。”

“And people can’t help with my story?”

“那人们就不能帮我的故事吗?”

He didn’t look up. “I asked you to leave it alone.”

他没有抬头。”我请你别再查了。”

“You did,” I said. “You didn’t tell me why.”

“你是请过,”我说,”可是你没有告诉我为什么。”

He cut the last string and stood the newspapers in their rack, one by one, very straight. A customer came in for milk. My father served her and talked to her about the snow, and about the huts for the market, and about her husband’s knee. When she left, he went into the back room to unpack boxes. The conversation was over.

他剪完最后一根绳子,把报纸一份一份放进架子里,放得很直。一位顾客进来买牛奶。爸爸给她拿了牛奶,和她聊雪,聊市场的小木屋,聊她丈夫的膝盖。她走了以后,他进了后面的房间去拆箱子。我们的谈话结束了。

I took the card from under the till and went to the café two doors down. The café has a board by the door where people put up notices for flats and bicycles and yoga. I pinned my card in the middle of it. The young man behind the counter watched me do it.

我从收银机下面拿出卡片,走到隔两个门的咖啡馆。咖啡馆门边有一块板子,人们在上面贴租房、卖自行车和瑜伽课的通知。我把卡片钉在板子中间。柜台后面的年轻人看着我钉。

“N.!” he said. “My nephew got one last year. He’s six. He asked Saint Nicholas for a dinosaur, a real one, and the letter said a real dinosaur would be very unhappy in a flat on the third floor, but that he should look at the stones in the park, because some of them are older than dinosaurs. He’s been collecting stones ever since. He lives with my mum after school, and she’s furious. They’re all over her house.”

“N!”他说,”我的外甥去年收到了一封。他六岁。他向圣尼古拉要一只恐龙,真的恐龙。回信说,真的恐龙住在三楼的小房子里会很不开心,可是他可以去公园看看那里的石头,因为有些石头比恐龙还老。从那以后,他一直在收集石头。放学以后他住在我妈妈家,她气坏了。石头在她家到处都是。”

“Did she keep the letter?”

“她留着那封信吗?”