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I could see his face so clearly now… almost hear his voice. And, despite all the horror and hopelessness, I was fleetingly happy. So involved was I in my escapist daydreams, I lost all track of the seconds racing by.
現(xiàn)在，我是如此清晰的看到了他的臉……幾乎都能聽到他的聲音了。盡管有如此多的恐懼和絕望，我依然抓住了這短暫的歡樂。我太沉迷于自己逃避現(xiàn)實的白日夢里了，以至于完全忘記了時間的流逝。
"Hey, what was the number?"
“嗨，門牌號是多少？”
The cabbie's question punctured my fantasy, letting all the colors run out of my lovely delusions. Fear, bleak and hard, was waiting to fill the empty space they left behind.
出租車司機的發(fā)問打破了我的白日夢，我幻覺里的所有色彩都蕩然無存。恐懼，凄涼和艱難，正等著填補幻覺消失后所留下來的空白。
"Fifty-eight twenty-one." My voice sounded strangled. The cabbie looked at me, nervous that I was having an episode or something.
“5821。”我的聲音聽起來快要窒息了。那個司機緊張地看著我，就好像我是某個有趣的小插曲。
"Here we are, then." He was anxious to get me out of his car, probably hoping I wouldn't ask for my change.
“那么，你到了。”他不安地看著我下車，也許只是在希望著我不要讓他找錢。
"Thank you," I whispered. There was no need to be afraid, I reminded myself. The house was empty. I had to hurry; my mom was waiting for me, frightened, depending on me.
“謝謝。”我喃喃低語著。沒有必要感到害怕，我提醒自己。家里現(xiàn)在沒人。我得抓緊時間。我的母親正等著我，她一定已經(jīng)嚇壞了，只能指望我。
I ran to the door, reaching up automatically to grab the key under the eave. I unlocked the door. It was dark inside, empty, normal. I ran to the phone, turning on the kitchen light on my way. There, on the whiteboard, was a ten-digit number written in a small, neat hand. My fingers stumbled over the keypad, making mistakes. I had to hang up and start again. I concentrated only on the buttons this time, carefully pressing each one in turn. I was successful. I held the phone to my ear with a shaking hand. It rang only once.
我跑向大門，本能地伸出手去取屋檐下的鑰匙。我打開了門。屋里很黑，空無一人，一切正常。我向電話機跑去，在路上打開了廚房的燈。在那里，就在那塊白板上，寫著一行十位數(shù)字，字跡小巧工整。我的手指顫抖著伸向電話鍵盤，卻撥錯了。我不得不掛上電話，重新?lián)芴枴＿@次我把注意力全都集中在按鈕上，小心地按順序按下每一個按鈕。我成功了。我用顫抖的手把電話舉到耳邊。電話只響了一下就接通了。
