拉斯金·邦德　青閏/譯

I was ten years old. My grandmother sat on the string bed， under the mango tree. It was late summer and there were sunflowers in the garden and a warm wind in the trees. My grandmother was knitting a woollen scarf for the winter months. She was very old， dressed in a plain white sari; her eyes were not very strong now， but her fingers moved quickly with the needles， and the needles kept clicking all afternoon. Grandmother had white hair， but there were very few wrinkles on her skin.

我當時10歲。奶奶坐在芒果樹下的繩床上。時值夏末，花園里開著一朵朵的向日葵，樹上吹著暖風。奶奶正在織一條過冬的羊毛圍巾。她上了年紀，身穿素白的紗麗；她的眼睛現(xiàn)在不太好使了，但手指依舊靈活，一針針打得飛快，整個下午都能聽見織針嗒嗒作響。雖然奶奶滿頭白發(fā)，但她的皮膚上幾乎沒有多少皺紋。

I had come home after playing cricket on the maidan. I had taken my meal， and now I was rummaging in a box of old books and family heirlooms that had just that day been brought out of the attic by my mother. Nothing in the box interested me very much， except for a book with colourful pictures of birds and butterflies. I was going through the book， looking at the pictures， when I found a small photograph between the pages. It was a faded picture， a little yellow and foggy; it was a picture of a girl standing against a wall， and behind the wall there was nothing but sky; but from the other side a pair of hands reached up， as though someone was going to climb the wall. There were flowers growing near the girl， but I couldnt tell what they were; there was a creeper too， but it was just a creeper.

在廣場上打完板球后，我回到家。吃完飯，我此刻正在一個裝滿舊書與傳家寶的箱子里胡亂翻著，這箱東西是母親那天剛從閣樓里拿出來的。除了一本配有鳥與蝴蝶彩圖的書之外，箱子里的東西我都不大感興趣。我一邊翻著書，一邊瀏覽書中的圖片，這時我發(fā)現(xiàn)書頁之間夾著的一張小照片。那是一張褪色的照片，有點兒發(fā)黃，也有點兒模糊。照片中一個女孩靠墻站立，墻后就是一片天空。但是，一雙手卻從墻外伸過來，好像是有人正要爬上墻。墻邊開出了幾朵花，就在女孩近旁，但我說不清那是什么花兒；那里還有一叢爬山虎，但也沒什么特別的。

I ran out into the garden. “Granny！” I shouted. “Look at this picture！ I found it in the box of old things. Whose picture is it？”

我跑到花園里?！澳棠?！”我喊道，“看這張照片！我是從放舊東西的那只箱子里找到的。這是誰的照片？”

I jumped on the bed beside my grandmother， and she walloped me on the bottom and said， “Now Ive?lost count of my stitches， and the next time?you do that Ill make you finish the scarf yourself.”

我跳到奶奶身邊的床上。她在我的屁股上拍了一下，說：“你一鬧，我都忘了針數了，下次你再這樣做，我就讓你自己把圍巾織完?！?/p>

Granny was always threatening to teach me how to knit， which I thought was a disgraceful thing for a boy to do; it was a good deterrent1 for keeping me out of mischief. Once I had torn the drawing room curtains， and Granny had put a needle and thread in my hand and made me stitch the curtain together， even though I make long， two-inch stitches， which had to be taken out by my mother and done again.

奶奶總是揚言要教我編織，我覺得男孩子學那個太丟人；她這么一說，我就不敢胡鬧了。有一次，我扯破了客廳的窗簾，奶奶把針線放在我手里，讓我把窗簾縫好，但我縫的一個個針腳足有兩英寸長，媽媽只好拆了重縫。

She took the photograph from my hand， and we both stared at it for quite a long time. The girl had long， loose hair， and she wore a long dress that nearly covered her ankles， and sleeves that reached her wrists， and there were a lot of bangles on her hands; but， despite all this drapery2， the girl appeared to be full of freedom and movement; she stood there， with a wide， almost devilish smile on her face.

她從我手里接過照片，我們兩人盯著照片看了好一會兒。那個女孩一頭長發(fā)，編著蓬松的發(fā)辮，身穿長連衣裙，裙子幾乎遮住了腳踝，袖子長及手腕，雙手戴著好幾個手鐲；不過，盡管衣著累贅，這個姑娘還是顯得格外自在靈活；她站在那里，咧著大嘴調皮地笑著。

“Whose picture is it？” I asked.

“這是誰的照片？”我問。

“A little girls， of course，” said Grandmother. “Cant you tell？”

“當然是一個小女孩的?！蹦棠陶f，“你看不出來嗎？”

“Yes， but did you know the girl？”

“看出來了，可您認識這個女孩嗎？”

“Yes， I knew her，” said Granny， “but she was a very wicked girl and I shouldnt tell you about her. But Ill tell you about the photograph. It was taken in your grandfathers house， about sixty years ago and thats the garden wall， and over the wall there was a road going to town.”

“認識，我認識她，”奶奶說，“但她是個壞壞的女孩，我不應該告訴你她的事兒。不過，我會給你講講這張照片是怎么回事。這是大約60年前在你爺爺家里照的，那是花園的墻，墻外是一條通往鎮(zhèn)上的路?！?/p>

“Whose hands are they，” I asked， “coming up from the other side？”

“從墻外伸過來的是誰的手？”我問。

Grandmother squinted and looked closely at the picture， and shook her head. “Its the first time Ive noticed，” she said. “That must have been the sweeper boys. Or maybe they were your grandfathers.”

奶奶瞇眼仔細看照片，然后搖了搖頭?！斑@是我第一次注意到還有雙手?！彼f，“那一定是掃街男孩的手?；蛟S那是你爺爺的手?！?/p>

“They dont look like grandfathers hands，” I said. “His hands are all bony.”

“看起來不像是爺爺的手?！蔽艺f，“他的手都皮包骨了?！?/p>

“Yes， but this was sixty years ago.”

“是啊，可這照片是60年前照的了?！?/p>

“Didnt he climb up the wall， after the photo？”

“拍完照片后，他是不是爬上墻了？”

“No， nobody climbed up. At least， I dont remember.”

“不是，沒人爬上去。至少，我不記得了。”

“And you remember well， Granny.”

“可您記性一向挺好啊，奶奶?！?/p>

“Yes， I remember...I remember what is not in the photograph. It was a spring day， and there was a cool breeze blowing， nothing like this. Those flowers at the girls feet， they were marigolds， and the bougainvillaea creeper， it was a mass of purple. You cannot see these colours in the photo， and even if you could， as nowadays， you wouldnt be able to smell the flowers or feel the breeze.”

“是啊，我記得……記得很多照片里沒有的東西。那是一個春天的日子，涼風習習，很舒服。那女孩腳下的那些花兒，它們是金盞花；還有葉子花那種攀緣植物，是一團紫色。這張照片里看不到顏色，即便今天的彩色照片能看到顏色，你也聞不到花香，感覺不到微風。”

“And what about the girl？” I said. “Tell me about the girl.”

“那個女孩呢？”我說，“跟我說說那個女孩吧?！?/p>

“Well， she was a wicked girl，” said Granny. “You dont know the trouble they had getting her into those fine clothes shes wearing.”

“唉，她是個壞女孩。”奶奶說，“你不知道他們費了多大勁兒才讓她穿上那身漂亮的衣服?！?/p>

“I think they are terrible clothes，” I said.

“我覺得那身衣服太糟糕了?！蔽艺f。

“So did she. Most of the time， she hardly wore a thing. She used to go swimming in a muddy pool with a lot of ruffianly3 boys， and ride on the backs of buffaloes. No boy ever teased her， though， because she could kick and scratch and pull his hair out！”

“她也這樣認為。大多數時候，她幾乎什么都不穿。她過去常常跟好多皮孩子在泥潭里游泳，然后騎在水牛背上。不過，從來沒有男孩敢招惹她，因為她會又踢又撓，拽掉他的頭發(fā)！”

“She looks like it too，” I said. “You can tell by the way shes smiling. At any moment somethings going to happen.”

“她看起來也像那樣的人。”我說，“從她那笑的樣子就能看出來。不定什么時候就會鬧出點兒事?！?/p>

“Something did happen，” said Granny. “Her mother wouldnt let her take off the clothes afterwards， so she went swimming in them， and lay for half an hour in the mud.”

“的確出了點兒事?！蹦棠陶f，“后來她媽媽不讓她脫衣服了，她就穿著衣服去游泳，還在泥里躺了半小時?！?/p>

I laughed heartily and Grandmother laughed too.

我放聲大笑，奶奶也哈哈大笑。

“Who was the girl？” I said. “You must tell me who she was.”

“那女孩是誰？”我說，“您一定要告訴我她是誰?！?/p>

“No， that wouldnt do，” said Grandmother， but I pretended I didnt know. I knew， because Grandmother still smiled in the same way， even though she didnt have as many teeth.

“不，那可不行?！蹦棠叹芙^說，我也假裝不知道。我之所以知道，是因為奶奶的笑容還跟那張照片上一模一樣，哪怕她的牙齒沒有那么多了。

“Come on， Granny，” I said， “tell me， tell me.”

“快，奶奶，”我說，“告訴我，告訴我嘛?！?/p>

But Grandmother shook her head and carried on with the knitting; and I held the photograph in my hand looking from it to my grandmother and back again， trying to find points in common between the old lady and the little pig-tailed girl. A lemon-coloured butterfly settled on the end of Grandmothers knitting needle， and stayed there while the needles clicked away. I made a grab at the butterfly， and it flew off in a dipping flight and settled on a sunflower.

奶奶卻搖了搖頭，繼續(xù)織起了圍巾；我把照片拿在手里，看一眼照片又看一眼奶奶，來回來去看，想找出這個老太太和那個梳辮子小女孩之間的共同點。一只檸檬色的蝴蝶落在織針的一端，織針嗒嗒進退時它待著不動。我一把抓向蝴蝶，它一下子俯沖飛了出去，落在一朵向日葵上。

“I wonder whose hands they were，” whispered Grandmother to herself， with her head bowed， and her needles clicking away in the soft warm silence of that summer afternoon.

“我不知道那是誰的手?！蹦棠痰椭^自言自語。在那個夏日午后的柔和、溫暖和寂靜中，她的織針一直嗒嗒作響。

（譯者單位：焦作大學）