佚名/Anonymous
They were going to Florida——three boys and three girls——and when they boarded the bus,they were carrying sandwiches and wine in paper bags,dreaming of golden beaches and sea tides as the gray cold of New York vanished behind them.
As the bus passed through New Jersey,they began to notice Vingo.He sat in front of them,dressed in a plain,ill-fitting suit,never moving,his dusty face masking his age.He chewed the inside of his lip a lot,frozen into some personal cocoon of silence.
Deep into the night,outside Washington,the bus pulled into a Howard Johnsons,and everybody got off except Vingo.He sat rooted in his seat,and the young people began to wonder about him,trying to imagine his life:perhaps he was a sea captain,a runaway form his wife,an old soldier going home.When they went back to the bus,one of the girls sat beside him and introduced herself.
“Were going to Florida,”she said brightly,“I hear its beautiful.”
“It is.”he said quietly,as if remembering something he had tried to forget.
“Want some wine?”she said.He smiled and took a swig.He thanked her and retreated again into his silence.After a while,she went back to the others,and Vingo nodded in sleep.
In the morning,they awoke outside another Howard Johnsons,and this time Vingo went in.The girl insisted that he join them.He seemed very shy,and ordered black coffee and smoked nervously as the young people chattered about sleeping on beaches.When they returned to the bus,the girl sat with Vingo again,and after a while,slowly and painfully,he told his story.He had been in jail in New York for the past four years,and now he was going home.
“Are you married?”
“I dont know.”
“You dont know?”she said.
“Well,when I was in the can I wrote to my wife,”he said,“I told her that I was going to be away a long time,and that if she couldn’t stand it,if the kids kept asking questions,if it hurt too much,well,she could just forget me.I’d understand.Get a new guy,I said-she’s a wonderful woman,really something-and forget about me.I told her she didn’t have to write me or nothing.And she didnt.Not for three and a half years.”
“And youre going home now,not knowing?”
“Yeah,”he said shyly,“Well,last week,when I was sure the parole was coming through,I wrote her again.We used to live in Brunswick,just before Jacksonville,and There’s a big oak tree just as you come into town.I told her that if she’d take me back,she should put a yellow handkerchief on the tree,and I’d get off and come home.If she didn’t want me,forget it-no handkerchief and Id go on through.”
“Wow,”the girl said,“Wow.”
She told the others,and soon all of them were in it,caught up in the approach of Brunswick,looking at the picture Vingo showed them of his wife and three children-the woman handsome in a plain way,the children still unformed in the cracked,much-handled snapshots.
Now they were 20 miles from Brunswick,and the young people took over window seats on the right side,waiting for the approach of the great oak tree.The bus acquired a dark,hushed mood,full of the silence of absence and lost years.Vingo stopped looking,tightening his face into the ex-cons mask,as if fortifying himself against still another disappointment.
Then Brunswick was ten miles,and then five.Then,suddenly,all of the young people were up out of their seats,screaming and shouting and crying,doing small dances of exultation.All except Vingo.
Vingo sat there stunned,looking at the oak tree.It was covered with yellow handkerchiefs-20 of them,30 of them,maybe hundreds,a tree that stood like a banner of welcome billowing in the wind.As the young people shouted,the old con rose from his seat and made his way to the front of the bus to go home.
三個男孩和三個女孩打算乘長途汽車去佛羅裏達遊玩，他們用紙袋帶了三明治和葡萄酒，眼前浮現出夢想中的金色沙灘和海浪，昏暗寒冷的紐約城漸漸在他們身後銷聲匿跡。
當汽車經過新澤西時，他們注意到了溫哥。他一動不動地坐在他們前排，身穿簡樸而不合時宜的衣服，蓬頭垢麵，讓人簡直難以判斷出他的真實年齡。他不時地咬著嘴唇，默不做聲，似封凍於蠶繭中。
夜幕降臨，長途汽車駛至華盛頓郊外，在郝華德·約翰森飯館的門口停下了，所有人都起身下車，隻有溫哥仍坐在那裏一動不動，像是紮根在了座位上一樣。年輕人都好奇地猜想著他的身世：他或許是名船長，一個拋家棄妻的外鄉人，或是一個歸家的老兵。當他們回到車上時，其中一個女孩坐到了他身旁，主動搭訕，作了自我介紹。
“我們要去佛羅裏達，”她爽朗地說道，“聽說那兒是個景色宜人的好地方。”
“沒錯。”他麵無表情地答道，好像這個話題勾起了他想忘卻的某些往事。
“來點兒葡萄酒嗎？”她說。溫哥微笑著接過酒，暢飲起來，謝過女孩，又不做聲了。過了一會兒，女孩回到她的同伴中間，溫哥低頭打起了盹。
早上大家醒來時，車已經開到了另一家郝華德·約翰森飯館，這次，溫哥跟大家進來了。女孩堅持要他加入他們當中。但他看上去很害羞，隻要了杯清咖啡，年輕人暢談著露宿沙灘的趣事，他卻緊張地吸著煙。他們回到車上後，那個女孩又坐到了溫哥的旁邊。坐了一會兒，溫哥緩慢而又略帶辛酸地說出了自己的故事：他在紐約的監獄度過了四年的時光，現在要回家了。
“你有太太嗎？”
“我不知道。”
“不知道？”她說。
“噢，是這樣的，在監獄時，我曾寫信給她，”他說，“我告訴她，我要離開一段時間，如果她不能等我，如果她厭煩孩子總問東問西，如果她心裏承受不了這樣的傷害，那麽，她可以忘記我，我會理解她。我讓她再找一個男人——她是一位好女人——她應該把我忘記，去過新的生活。我讓她不必回信給我。她真的沒回。三年半了，杳無音信。”
“你現在要回家了，還不知道什麽情形嗎？”
“是啊，”他靦腆地說，“哦，就在上周，我得知自己可以獲釋了，我又寫了封信給她。她住在不倫瑞克，就在捷克森威爾的下一站，鎮口有棵大橡樹。我告訴她，如果她還願意接受我，就在樹上掛一塊黃手帕，我就會下車回家。如果她不想讓我回去，就不必了——看不到手帕，我就不下車了，繼續坐下去。”
“噢，”女孩唏噓不已，“這樣啊！”
女孩把這個故事講給了其他人，很快，大家就都知道了。汽車越來越接近溫哥的家鄉不倫瑞克，溫哥拿出妻子和孩子的照片給大家看——照片上的女人樸實而美麗，孩子們都尚在稚齡。由於摸得次數太多，照片已布滿裂痕。
現在距離不倫瑞克還有20英裏，年輕人都聚集到車右邊靠窗子的座位，等著大橡樹的出現。緊張的氣氛頓時籠罩了整個車廂。溫哥沒有勇氣望窗外，緊繃著臉，盡量掩飾自己內心的不安，他像驚弓之鳥一樣，做好了失望的心理準備。
還有10英裏，5英裏了……突然，所有的年輕人都從座位上站了起來，尖叫著，呼喊著，歡呼雀躍不已，隻有溫哥例外。
溫哥木訥地坐在那裏，望著橡樹。樹上掛滿了黃手帕——20條，30條，或許足有數百條。這棵樹像麵旗幟一樣，站在那兒，迎風招展，似乎在歡迎他的歸來。在那些年輕人的歡呼聲中，這位剛出獄的人從座位上站了起來，走到車門，準備下車回家了。
詞匯筆記
sandwich[s?nwid?，-t?]n.三明治
Do you want sandwiches for breakfast?
你想要三明治當作早餐嗎？
beach[bi:t?]n.海灘
With all the beautiful beaches in the world,beach lovers have
lots of choices.
世界上有那麽多美麗的海灘，喜歡海灘的人有很多選擇。
introduce[，intr?dju:s]v.介紹
She introduced me to her friend.
她把我介紹給她的朋友。
painfully[peinf?li]adv.痛苦地；苦惱地；費力地
I leave with smile,painfully die in sweet.
我微笑著離開，在甜蜜中疼痛死去……
小試身手
眼前浮現出夢想中的金色海灘和海浪，昏暗寒冷的紐約城漸漸隱退在他們身後。
突然，所有的年輕人都從座位上站了起來，尖叫著，呼喊著，歡呼雀躍不已。
樹上掛滿了黃手帕——20條，30條，或許足有數百條。這棵樹像麵旗幟一樣，站在那兒，迎風招展，似乎在歡迎他的歸來。
短語家族
……as if remembering something he had tried to forget.
as if：好像
I told her that if she’d take me back,she should put a yellow handkerchief on the tree,and I’d get off and come home.
get off：下車