平安夜

平安夜

Silent Night

星期二,九点十五分,Jonas坐下。第一站,他就睡着了。他的头靠在窗上。他的箱子在他的腿上。

On Tuesday, at 9:15, Jonas sits down. At the first stop he is asleep. His head is on the window. His case is on his knees.

最后一站,我看他。灰色的脸。我想,他好几天没睡了。

At the last stop I look at him. Grey face. No sleep for days, I think.

我不叫醒他。我把他开回车站,再开一圈。

I don’t wake him. I drive him back to the station, and round again.

十点四十分,在广场,他醒了。他看手表。他的脸红了。

At the square, at 10:40, he wakes up. He looks at his watch. His face goes red.

“一个小时!Rosa!我只有两天了!”

“One hour! Rosa! I have two days!”

“你睡了。这很好。”

“You sleep. That’s good.”

他不回答。他下车,快快地走过广场。没有“晚安”。什么也没有。

He doesn’t answer. He gets off and walks across the square, fast. No “good night”. Nothing.

星期三九点十五分,他上车。他坐下。然后他说话了。

On Wednesday at 9:15 he gets on. He sits down. Then he says it.

“对不起。我睡了一个小时,今天我的手又好了。你说得对。”他在镜子里看我。“Rosa。来午夜弥撒吧。明天。”

“I’m sorry. I sleep for one hour, and today my hands are good again. You’re right.” He looks at me in the mirror. “Rosa. Come to midnight mass. Tomorrow.”

“明天我开车。我的最后一班车十一点五十到广场。”

“I’m driving tomorrow. My last bus is at the square at 11:50.”

“我知道。以后来。”

“I know. Come after.”

以后?我不要以后。

After? I don’t want after.

在车库,我问Hale先生。“明天晚上,最后一班车。有人可以开吗?”

At the depot I ask Mr Hale. “Tomorrow night, the last bus. Can somebody take it?”