Three Hundred Rolls

On Friday night the town was very quiet. It was cold, and a thin rain was falling on the river. At a quarter to twelve Ana went down to the kitchen in her socks, carrying her trainers in her hand. She turned on only the small light over the table. Then she listened. Upstairs, behind Walter’s door, she could hear him snoring slowly and deeply.

星期五晚上，镇上非常安静。天气很冷，细雨落在河面上。差一刻十二点的时候，安娜穿着袜子走下楼来到厨房，手里拿着运动鞋。她只开了桌子上方的小灯。然后她仔细听了听。楼上沃尔特的门后，传来了他缓慢而深沉的呼噜声。

She had prepared everything she could. The flour was ready in its big bags, and the trays were clean and stacked by the oven. She had written the plan on a piece of paper and stuck it to the fridge, next to the hospital letter. Rolls, then loaves, then the normal bread for the shop. Ana had read it so many times that she could see it with her eyes closed.

能准备的东西，她全都准备好了。面粉已经在大袋子里装好备齐，烤盘也洗得干干净净，整齐地叠在烤箱旁。她把计划写在了一张纸上，贴在冰箱上，就在那封医院来信的旁边。先烤小圆面包，再烤大面包，最后烤店里平时卖的面包。安娜已经把计划读过很多遍，闭着眼睛都能看见。

At exactly midnight there was a very soft knock on the back door. Crumb lifted his head. Ana opened the door, and Michael was standing on the step in his long coat, with rain on his hat and a small bag in his hand. For a second neither of them said anything.

正好午夜十二点的时候，后门传来了非常轻的敲门声。克兰姆抬起了头。安娜打开门，迈克尔穿着长外套站在台阶上，帽子上落着雨水，手里提着一个小包。有那么一瞬间，两个人谁都没有说话。

Then he stepped inside, and Ana closed the door behind him. He took off his hat. He stood in the middle of the kitchen and did not move. He looked at the old oven, the big wooden table, the shelves, the radio, the window over the sink. His eyes went round the room slowly, as if he was reading a letter from a long time ago.

接着他走进屋里，安娜在他身后关上了门。他摘下了帽子。他站在厨房中间，一动也不动。他看着老烤箱、大木桌、架子、收音机，还有水槽上方的窗户。他的目光慢慢扫过整个房间，就像在读一封很久以前的信。

“The table is the same,” he said quietly. “Everything else is new. After the fire, everything at the back was new. But the table was in the shop that night, so it didn’t burn.” He put his hand flat on the old wood. “I learned to make bread at this table. I was seven. I stood on a chair.”

“桌子还是老样子，”他轻声说，“别的东西全都是新的。火灾之后，后面的东西都是新的。但那天晚上桌子在店里，所以没被烧掉。”他把手平平地放在旧木头上。“我就是在这张桌子旁学会做面包的。那时我才七岁，还要站在椅子上。”

Crumb got up from his place by the oven, walked over and smelled Michael’s shoes and the bottom of his coat. Then he did something he did not usually do with strangers. He pushed his grey nose into Michael’s hand and stayed there.

克兰姆从烤箱旁自己的位置上站起来，走上前闻了闻迈克尔的鞋子和外套下摆。接着，它做了一件平时对陌生人绝不会做的事。它把灰色的鼻子贴在迈克尔的手心里，久久没有移开。

“He smells the bread on me,” Michael said. “Two months of your bread.” He scratched the old dog behind the ears. Then he took off his coat and looked at the hooks by the door. Walter’s spare apron was hanging there, long and white and a little yellow with age. Michael looked at it for a long moment. Then he took it down and put it on.

“它闻到了我身上的面包味，”迈克尔说，“吃了两个月你做的面包呢。”他抓了抓这条老狗的耳后。然后他脱下外套，看了看门边的挂钩。沃尔特的备用围裙就挂在那里，又长又白，因年代久远而有些发黄。迈克尔凝视了它好一会儿。然后他取下围裙，穿在了身上。

It was too big for him. Walter was a heavier man. But when Michael tied it behind his back, he suddenly stood differently. His shoulders went back. He looked at the bowls and the bags of flour, and something in his tired face woke up. “Right,” he said. “Show me your plan.”

围裙对他来说太大了。沃尔特的身材更胖一些。但迈克尔在身后系好围裙时，他的站姿忽然变了。他的肩膀往后挺了起来。他看着碗和大袋面粉，疲惫的脸上有什么东西醒了过来。“好，”他说，“让我看看你的计划。”