No, no, little boy. She shook her finger at him, her eyes searching for the child's mother or nurse. "We mustn't throw sand. It may get in someone's eyes and hurt. We must play nicely in the nice sandbox." The boy looked at her in unblinking expectancy. He was about Larry's age but perhaps ten pounds heavier, a husky little boy with none of Larry's quickness and sensitivity in his face. Where was his mother? The only other people left in the playground were two women and a little girl on roller skates leaving now through the gate, and a man on a bench a few feet away. He was a big man, and he seemed to be taking up the whole bench as he held the Sunday comics close to his face. She supposed he was the child's father. He did not look up from his comics, but spat once deftly out of the corner of his mouth. She turned her eyes away.
“不可以，不可以，孩子。”她對他搖著手指，同時眼睛搜尋著孩子的媽媽或者保姆。“我們不可以揚沙子。它會飛到別人眼睛里，很痛。沙箱這么好，我們得好好地玩。”這個男孩看著她，眼睛一眨不眨，好像在期待什么。他跟拉里年紀相仿，但是可能比拉里要重10磅，很壯實，從他臉上看不到拉里的活潑和機靈。他的媽媽在哪里？游樂場里就剩下兩個女人和一個穿旱冰鞋的小女孩，她們正穿過大門離開，還有一個男人坐在幾英尺外的長椅上。他塊頭很大，臉貼近手里拿著的周末連環畫，整個長椅仿佛都被他占了。她覺得他就是孩子的父親。他還在看連環畫，頭也不抬，但動作嫻熟地從嘴角里吐了一口痰。她移開了視線。
At that moment, as swiftly as before, the fat little boy threw another spadeful of sand at Larry. This time some of it landed on his hair and forehead. Larry looked up at his mother, his mouth tentative; her expression would tell him whether to cry or not.
就在這個時候，那個小胖子又朝拉里揚了一鏟沙，動作跟之前一樣迅速。這次，一些沙子落在了拉里的頭發和前額上。拉里抬頭看著媽媽，試探性地撇了撇嘴，媽媽的表情將決定他要不要放聲大哭。
Her first instinct was to rush to her son, brush the sand out of his hair, and punish the other child, but she controlled it. She always said that she wanted Larry to learn to fight his own battles.
她的第一反應就是想沖向兒子，撣掉他頭發里的沙子，然后把那個孩子教訓一頓，但她克制住了。她總是說她想讓拉里學會自己保護自己。
Don't do that, little boy, she said sharply, leaning forward on the bench. "You mustn't throw sand!"
“不能那么做，孩子，”她坐在長椅上，身體前傾，厲聲說道，“你不該揚沙子。”
The man on the bench moved his mouth as if to spit again, but instead he spoke. He did not look at her, but at the boy only.
那個坐在長椅上的男人嘴巴動了動，好像又要吐痰，但卻開口說話了。他沒有看她，只是盯著那個男孩。
You go right ahead, Joe, he said loudly. "Throw all you want. This here is a public sandbox."
“繼續玩你的，喬，”他大聲說，“想揚什么就揚什么。這里是公共沙箱。”
She felt a sudden weakness in her knees as she glanced at Morton. He had become aware of what was happening. He put his Times down carefully on his lap and turned his fine, lean face toward the man, a shy, apologetic smile on his face. When he spoke to the man, it was with his usual reasonableness.
她瞥了莫頓一眼，忽然感覺膝蓋一陣發軟。他已經明白了目前的狀況。他把《時報》小心地放在腿上，轉頭看向那個男人，精致消瘦的臉龐上掛著靦腆、謙卑的微笑。他開口跟那個男人說話了，像平常一樣，那么通情達理。
評論
打印
