文明搬运工：黄思明^_^
The autumn sun filtered through the large bay window of Maple Street Café, casting golden streaks over the wooden table where Mary and Jane sat. A half-empty cup of latte steamed beside Mary, its ceramic surface etched with delicate rose patterns—one of the new designs from her grandfather’s tableware company, Hamilton Porcelain.
槭树街小酒馆窗户下，金秋的太阳，滤过巨大停车场窗户边，照射到木质桌面上，投下金色的条纹。玛丽和简就坐在桌子旁边。玛丽旁边，放着半杯拿铁咖啡，正丝丝冒着热气。杯子表面蚀刻着精美的玫瑰图案——来自于她祖父餐具公司“哈密尔顿陶瓷”的新设计之一。
Jane twirled a strand of her chestnut hair around her finger, her eyes crinkling as she laughed at something Mary had said, a well-worn knitted scarf (her grandmother’s handiwork)draped loosely over her shoulders. It was one of those quiet afternoons that felt like a warm hug, the kind neither of them wanted to end.
简把她一缕栗色头脑，旋转缠绕在手指上。她的眼睛眯成一条缝，像是因为玛丽所说的某句话而发笑，一条好看编织头巾（她祖母的手工艺品）松散地覆盖在她的双肩。这就是安静午后之一，感觉像是一个温暖的环抱，这种安逸，他们丝毫都不想结束。
“I was helping my grandma sort through old photo albums yesterday,” Jane said, sipping her herbal tea. “Found a picture of me when I was five, covered in flour—she was teaching me to make apple pie, and I decided the bowl was a hat.”
“昨天，我帮奶奶从旧相册里，把照片分辨出来。”简边说话，边抿了一口她的香茶。“找一张照片，那时我五岁，被面粉覆盖——她正教我做苹果派，然后，我决定把碗当一顶帽子玩。”
Mary smiled, but her fingers tightened slightly around her latte cup. Photo albums. Her own were tucked away in the top drawer of her bedroom dresser, their pages stiff with disuse. Most of the pictures had her grandfather’s stern face, her grandmother’s soft smile, and… a blank space where her mother’s photos used to be. She’d hidden them when she was ten, after finding her father kissing a woman in a department store parking lot, the same woman who’d been wearing her mother’s favorite pearl necklace.
玛丽笑了，但是，她端着咖啡的手，下意识轻轻紧握相册。她把它们藏在卧室橱柜顶部抽屉里，相册册页甚至硬到没法使用。大多数照片都有她爷爷严肃的脸，还有奶奶温柔的笑容，并且……有一张空册页，原来那里放着妈妈的许多照片。当她10岁时，妈妈把照片藏了起来。因为当时妈妈发现，爸爸在一个停了很多车的商店外吻一个陌生女人，而这个女人，竟然戴着母亲最爱的同款珍珠项链。
“You never talk about your family much,” Jane said gently, noticing the shift in Mary’s expression. She leaned forward, her voice softening. “Not unless it’s about your grandpa’s company, or your grandma’s garden.”
“你永远不要讲太多家庭话题，”简温柔的说，注视着玛丽表情的变化。简身体前倾，她的声音变得柔和，“除非它有关你爷爷的公司，又或者你奶奶的花园。”
Mary took a deep breath, staring at the rose pattern on her cup. It was a safe topic, at first—Hamilton Porcelain had been in her family for three generations. Her grandfather, Thomas Hamilton, had started it in a small workshop after World War II, crafting hand-painted plates and mugs that soon became popular in upscale restaurants across the state. Now,the company occupied a sprawling factory on the edge of town, its shelves lined with everything from delicate teacups to heavy-duty dinner sets. Mary had grown up surrounded by porcelain: her childhood toys included mini teacups (she’d broken three before her grandma taught her to hold them properly), her bedroom walls were decorated with framed plate designs, and every Sunday dinner, the table was set with the company’s finest ivory china.
玛丽深吸一口气，凝视着手上杯子的玫瑰图案。起先，在她们家，这是一个安全话题——哈密尔顿陶瓷公司已经走过了三代人。她的祖父——托马斯•哈密尔顿于二战期间，在一个小作坊里开创了它，这种手工喷涂工艺做的盘子和杯子，很快在高端饭店变得流行起来，直至风靡整个国家。现如今，公司扩展业务，迅速占据了城郊工厂。货架上摆满了从精美的茶杯，到厚重耐用的餐具套装。玛丽从小被陶瓷围绕着长大：她童年的玩具包括微型茶杯（在奶奶教会她正确的抓握方法前，她打碎过三只。）她的卧室墙上，装饰着杯盘设计框架图片，而且，那个周日晚餐，桌上摆着公司最好的象牙白瓷器。
“We’re… comfortable,” Mary said, choosing her words carefully. “Grandpa runs the company, grandma handles the office books and the garden. The house is big—three stories, with a pool in the backyard. I have my own room with a walk-in closet, and grandpa buys me whatever I want for my birthday. But…” She trailed off, picking at a loose thread on her sweater.“It’s never felt like a ‘home,’ you know? Not the way people talk about home sin movies.”
“我们……很安逸！”玛丽小心地选择词汇说道，“爷爷运行公司，奶奶管理办公室的书籍还有我们的花园。房子是个大三层楼，后院还有一个游泳池。我拥有自己的房间，房间有超大的壁橱。并且，奶奶为我买下任意我想要的生日礼物。但是……”她减小声音，指着她毛衣上的一个松动的线头说，“它从未感觉像是一个所谓‘家’，你懂吗？绝不是人们所讨论的原罪家庭电影里面的那种‘家’”。
Jane nodded, waiting for her to go on.
简点头表示理解，等着她继续说。
“My mom left when I was three,” Mary said, her voice barely above a whisper. She’d never told anyone this before—not even her closest friends at school. But with Jane, it felt easy, like sharing a secret she’d carried for too long. “Grandma says she wanted ‘something more’ than being a wife and mom. I don’t remember much about her—just fragments. Her perfume smelled like jasmine, she used to sing lullabies in French, and she had a favorite mug from the company, blue with tiny stars. I found it in the attic last year, hidden under a box of old linens. I keep it on my nightstand now.”
“当我三岁时，妈妈就离开了。”玛丽说道，她的声音几乎是喃喃低语。以前，她从没和任何人说过这件事——甚至于学校里她最亲密的朋友。但是，对着简，这件事感到很容易，这就像分享一个她保存了很久的秘密。“奶奶说，比起当一个妻子和妈妈，她想要‘更多东西’。我记不起来太多关于她的事情——仅有一些片段记忆。她的香水闻起来像茉莉花，她习惯用法语唱摇篮曲，而且，她有一个喜爱的杯子，来自我们家公司，杯子是蓝色，点缀着小星星。去年，我竟然在阁楼里找到这个杯子，它藏在一个旧亚麻布做的盒子下面。现在，我把它存在我的床头柜里。”
She paused, swallowing hard. “Dad… he’s never beenaround much. He works at the factory, but he’s always traveling—‘businesstrips,’ he says. But when I was eight, I walked in on him talking to a woman onthe phone, telling her he loved her. And when I was twelve, I saw him holdinghands with a different woman at the mall. Grandma knows—she found a receipt fora diamond necklace in his jacket once—but she never says anything. She justhugs me and says, ‘Men are complicated, Mary. Don’t let him break your heart.’”
Mary looked up, her eyes shiny with unshed tears.“I try to be good. I get straight A’s, I help grandma with the garden every weekend, I never ask for anything extra. I thought if I was perfect, maybe…maybe someone would stay.”
玛丽抬头向上望去，她的眼里噙着泪花。“我努力做到很好。我获得A的成绩，每个周末，我帮助奶奶打理花园，我从未要求任何额外的回报。我想，如果我是完美的，也许……也许某人会留下来。”
Jane reached across the table, squeezing Mary’s hand. Her palm was warm, calloused from helping her dad fix cars on weekends and her grandma knead bread. “You don’t have to be perfect, Mary. That’s not what family is about.”
简跨过桌子，紧紧抓住玛丽的手。她的手掌温热，长着老茧，毕竟她在周末要帮助爸爸安装汽车，还要帮助奶奶揉面做面包。“你不必完美，玛丽！那不是家所必备的东西。”
She pulled her chair closer, her voice soft but steady. “My family’s nothing like yours. We live in a tiny apartment above mydad’s auto shop—two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a kitchen so small that if you open the fridge, you can’t open the oven. When I was seven, my mom got sick—kidney stones, really bad—and my grandpa (my mom’s dad) had a heart attack the same month. We had to pay for two surgeries, and dad had to take three jobs: fixing cars during the day, delivering pizzas at night, and working at the grocery store on weekends. I remember coming home from school and finding him asleep on the couch, his hands still greasy from the shop, a half-eaten sandwich on his lap.”
她把椅子拉得更紧，她的声音轻柔，但是平稳。“我们家和你们家完全不一样。我们住在一个小公寓里，楼下就是我爸的自家商店——两个卧室、一间浴室和一个小厨房。厨房太小，以至于，你打开了冰箱，你就没法打开烤箱。当我七岁时，我妈生病了——肾结石，真是糟透了——而且，就在同一个月，我外公还得了心脏病。我们不得不要负担两场手术费，爸爸必须打三份工作：白天安装汽车，晚上送外卖，周末去在食品杂货店干活。我记得，从学校回到家，就发现爸爸躺在长沙发睡着了，他的双手还沾着商店的油腻，他膝盖上还有一个吃了一半的三明治。”
简笑了，但是笑容里并没有悲伤——只有温暖。“那时，外婆也搬来和我们一起住。她是世界上最好的大厨——她的鸡汤面条可以搭配一切食物。外婆会早上五点起床，就为了给爸爸准备午餐，并且，在我放学后，外婆会辅导我写家庭作业，然后，她陪坐在外公和妈妈身旁，直到他们康复。我们并没有很多钱——我穿着表姐们的旧衣服，我的生日现场，通常也是图书馆借来的书籍和自己家做的曲奇饼——但是我们彼此心连心，互相祝贺！”
Jane smiled, but there was no sadness in it—only warmth. “Grandma moved in with us then. She’s my mom’s mom, and she’s the best cook in the world—her chicken noodle soup can fix anything. She’d wake up at 5 a.m. to make dad’s lunch, then help me with my homework after school, then sit with my mom and grandpa while they recovered. We didn’t have much money— I wore hand-me-down clothes from my cousin, and my birthday presents were usuallybooks from the library or homemade cookies—but we had each other.”
她摇着头笑了。“有一个冬天，电热器坏了，然后，天气太冷了，我们全部睡在一间起居室里，蜷缩着挤在外公的被子下。爸爸讲笑话来让我们保持温暖，妈妈唱圣诞颂歌，哪怕才10月份。而且，奶奶给我们讲她小时候在农场里的故事。我记得我一直想，‘这就是完美的家庭’。不是因为我们拥有好的物质条件，而且因为我们在一起，彼此心连心！”
She laughed, shaking her head. “One winter, the heater broke, and it was so cold that we all slept in the living room, huddled under grandma’s quilts. Dad told jokes to keep us warm, mom sang Christmas carols even though it was October, and grandma told stories about when she was a kid, growing up on a farm. I remember thinking, ‘This is perfect.’ Not because we had nice things, but because we were together.”
简的眼里充满幸福的光辉，好像她恰好回忆起什么事情。“对了！并且，我外公——他康复后——他教我怎样拆装自行车。在车库里，他让我坐在他膝盖上，然后我们拆掉旧自行车，并一同把它装回去。他说：‘简妮，人生中最幸福的事情就是，自己动手，丰衣足食。’现在，我还帮助邻居孩子们修自行车，——作为报酬，他们给我带来柠檬汽水和饼干。”
Jane’s eyes lit up, as if she’d just remembered something. “Oh! And my grandpa—after he recovered—he taught me how to fix bikes. He’d sit me on his lap in the garage, and we’d take apart old bikes and put them back together. He said, ‘Janey, the best things in life are the ones you fix with your hands.’ Now, I fix bikes for the kids in the neighborhood—they bring me lemonade or cookies as payment.”
玛丽凝视着她，一个浅浅的笑意，爬上他的嘴唇。“你们这么……开心。即使生活如此困难。”
Mary stared at her, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re so… happy. Even when things were hard.”
后记：
说实话，这篇翻译有点敷衍完成了，可是故事确实教人感动。两个同龄孩子，好像心有灵犀一样，多年前，一个孩子捡了另外一个孩子的玩具，多年后，两人竟然神奇般相遇，并且让这个玩具，成为了两人情感的纽带。
两个孩子的家庭生活，更是截然不同，一个豪车豪宅住着，但是速度从小缺乏妈妈的陪伴，因为妈妈“跑路”了，不想只当一个妻子，也不想做这个“妈妈”，她要更多的东西，无非就是“自由”。孩子并没有评判妈妈不好，只是缺少陪伴的孩子，总想表现自己的完美，潜意识深处幻想着“如果我更完美，妈妈是不是会留下来陪我呢？”这也仅仅是孩子心中的痴心妄想罢了。所以，玛丽其实是个十分孤独的孩子，因为缺乏母爱，所以她拼命表现自己的完美，直到遇到这个从小在爱的滋养下成长的同龄姑娘简，她才算遇到人生的知己闺蜜。
另外一个孩子简，家穷屋小，屋漏偏逢连夜雨，同一个月，竟然外公心脏病，老妈又得了肾结石，两个最爱的亲人都要动手术，急需要一大笔手术费，但是，爸爸拼命工作，一个人打三份工养家糊口，给两个最亲的人挣医药费。关键是，这三份工恰好就能解决所有的困难，外公病好了，妈妈病也好了。简回忆起外公病好后还陪着自己一起拆装自行车，并教给她那句他永远也忘不了的座右铭：“人生最幸福的事就是，自己动手，丰衣足食。”
诚然，我白雁平当然是有home sin的，所以我一直拒绝“家”，我把本名“白家华”弃之不用，也是这个心理在作祟。也正是由于我的原生家庭罪孽感，让我始终不相信任何人，也就注定了我不可能组建家庭，从而保持一辈子单身。这篇小说中，颇有讽刺地提到home sin movies，殊不知，我的原生家庭恐怕就是一部活生生的home sin movie，这一点，我在短篇小说《白雁平》、《高考》和《诈尸》等等，都有所体现，在此就不啰嗦了。
正是由于缺乏如小说中的简这样的幸福生活，我自然对这种也会心生向往，但我从没有奢求过，我有那样的好运，此生也就只有那个控制狂的老妈柴金贵，只有那个唯唯诺诺的老爸白龙潭，那也只能接受这个现实，允许一切发生，包括允许自己一辈子独身，再说了，我8岁就发誓一辈子不结婚了，这又有什么好遗憾的呢？
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2026.5.24～25，Sunday/Monday ，丙午年四月初八/初九未时许
