There was a silence. Then Dad went over to Granddad and stood before him, not speaking. But Granddad understood. He put out a hand and laid it on Dad’s shoulder. And he heard Granddad whisper, “It’s all right, son. I knew you didn’t mean it. . . .” And then Petey cried.
But it didn’t matter—because they were all crying together.
彼得不相信爸爸真会把爷爷送走。可是现在离别礼物都买好了。爸爸今天晚上买的。今晚是他和爷爷在一起的最后一个晚上了。
吃完晚饭，爷孙俩一块洗碗碟，爸爸走了，和那个就要与他成亲的女人一起走的，不会马上回来。洗完碗碟，爷孙走出屋子，坐在月光下。
“我去拿口琴来给你吹几支老曲子。”爷爷说。一会儿，爷爷从屋里出来了，拿来的不是口琴，而是那床毛毯。
那是条大大的双人毛毯。“这毛毯多好！”老人轻抚着膝头的毛毯说，“你爸真孝，给我这老家伙带这么床高级毛毯走。你看这毛，一定很贵的。以后冬天晚上不会冷了。那里不会有这么好的毛毯的。”
爷爷总这么说，为了避免难堪，他一直装着很想去政府办的养老院的样子，想象着，离开温暖的家和朋友，去哪个地方与许多其他老人一起共度晚年。可彼得从没想到爸爸真会把爷爷送走，直到今晚看到爸爸带回这床毛毯。
“是床好毛毯，”彼得搭讪着走进小屋。他不是个好哭的孩子，况且，他已早过了好哭鼻子的年龄了。他是进屋给爷爷拿口琴的。
爷爷接琴时毛毯滑落到地上。最后一个晚上了，爷孙俩谁也没说话。爷爷吹了一会儿，然后说，“你会记住这支曲子。”
月儿高高挂在天边，微风轻轻地吹过溪谷。最后一次了，彼得想，以后再也听不到爷爷吹口琴了，爸爸也要从这搬走，住进新居了。若把爷爷一个人撇下，美好的夜晚自己独坐廊下，还有什么意思！
音乐停了，有那么一会儿工夫，爷孙俩谁也没说话。过了一会儿，爷爷说，“这只曲子欢快点。彼得坐在那怔怔地望着远方。爸爸要娶那个姑娘了。是的，那个姑娘亲过他了，还发誓要对他好，做个好妈妈。
爷爷突然停下来，“这曲子不好，跳舞还凑合。“怔了一会儿，又说，”你爸要娶的姑娘不错。有个这么漂亮的妻子他会变年轻的。我又何必在这碍事，我一会儿这病一会儿那疼，招人嫌呢。况且他们还会有孩子。我可不想整夜听孩子哭闹。不，不！还是走为上策呀！好，再吹两支曲子我们就上床睡觉，睡到明天早晨，带上毛毯走人。你看这支怎么样？调子有些悲，倒很合适这样的夜晚呢。
他们没有听到爸爸和那个瓷美人正沿溪谷的小道走来，直到走近门廊，爷孙俩才听到她的笑声，琴声嘎然而止。爸爸一声没吭，姑娘走到爷爷跟前恭敬地说：“明天早晨不能来送您，我现在来跟您告别的。“
“谢谢了，”爷爷说。低头看着脚边的毛毯，爷爷弯腰拾起来，“你看，”爷爷局促地说，“这是儿子送我的离别礼物。多好的毛毯！”
“是不错。”她摸了一下毛毯，“好高级呀！”她转向爸爸，冷冷地说，“一定花了不少钱吧。”
爸爸支吾着说，“我想给他一床最好的毛毯。”“哼，还是双人的呢。”姑娘没完地纠缠毛毯的事。
“是的，”老人说，“是床双人毛毯。一床一个老家伙即将带走的毛毯。”彼得转身跑进屋。他听到那姑娘还在唠叨毛毯的昂贵，爸爸开始慢慢动怒。姑娘走了，彼得出屋时她正回头冲爸爸喊“甭解释，他根本用不着双人毛毯。”爸爸看着她，脸上有种奇怪的表情。
“她说得对，爸爸，”彼得说，“爷爷用不着双人毛毯。爸爸，给！”彼得递给爸爸一把剪刀，“把毛毯剪成两块。”
“好主意，”爷爷温和地说，“我用不着这么大的毛毯。”
“是的，”彼得说，“老人家送走时给床单人毛毯就不错了。我们还能留下一半，以后迟早总有用处。”
“你这是什么意思？”爸爸问。
“我是说，”彼得慢腾腾地说，“等你老了，我送你走时给你这一半。”
Oak father
橡树爸爸
I don’t remember when I was born. All I know is that my first cradle has been an oak leaf and that the light filtered through the branches has tenderly caressed me. I was only a little acorn1 but the light was my mother. I was living wrapped up in a leaf near the heart of my father, the old oak.
My parents loved me very much: my mother was waking me up each morning with sunrays and my father was singing to me each evening leaf lullabies2 and I was falling asleep in the leaf’s cradle, dreaming of angels.
But one morning when I woke up, all forest had been covered by gold. I was so happy that I wanted to sing, but my father’s sadness has broken my joy.
“The fall is already here, little girl,” he said. “And now we have to pass away. But don’t be afraid; next spring we’ll be back again for the earth to rejoice.”
And I still have lived like this for some time, each day in more light, each day between fewer leaves, until one da whenmy father dropped me down from his old and tired arms. And very soon it has snowed from the angels’wings and all my sleep has become angel wings and silver moon until one morning when I woke up gently touched by a snail’s horns.
“Good morning, dad!” I said.
“Good spring, little girl!” answered the old oak.
“But what’s this? All winter long I have dreamed of millions of angels and now I woke up with millions of eyes. What happened, dad?”
My father didn’t answer me, but I found the answer in the infinitely multiplied echo of my words. I wasn’t anymore the little acorn who had sadly entered the winter’s sleep. I was a rustling forest.
我不记得我出生在何时。我只知道我的第一个摇篮曾是一片橡树叶，阳光从树枝间透过来，温柔地爱抚着我。我只是一颗小小的橡子，但阳光是我的母亲。我被一片叶子包裹着，生活在我父亲——那棵老橡树的心旁。
我的父母非常爱我：每天早晨母亲用阳光把我唤醒；每天晚上父亲则用沙沙的树叶声给我唱催眠曲，我在树叶摇篮里进入了梦乡，梦见了天使。
但有一天早晨，当我醒来时，整个树林一片金黄。我快乐得想放声歌唱, 但父亲的悲伤打断了我的欢乐。
“秋天已经来了, 小女孩，”他说，“现在我们必须离去。但不要害怕；明年春天，我们还会回来，和大地一起欢庆。”
而我仍像这样生活了一段时间，每天的阳光越来越多，每天树间的叶子越来越少，直到有一天，父亲将我从衰老而疲惫的双臂上放下去。没过多久，雪花便从天使的翅膀上飘落下来，我所有的睡梦都变成了天使的翅膀和银色的月光，直到一天早晨，我被一只蜗牛的触角温柔地触醒。
“早安，爸爸!” 我说。
“春天好，小女孩！”老橡树回答说。
“可这是怎么回事? 整个漫长的冬天，我曾梦到数百万的天使，现在我醒来却带着数百万的眼睛。发生了什么事, 爸爸?”
父亲没有回答我，但我从我话音的众多回声中找到了答案。我不再是那颗悲伤地进入冬眠的小橡子，而是一片飒飒作响的树林。
The most precious gift
最珍贵的礼物
In high school, I played varsity football. I wasn’t a star, but in my senior year I was good enough to start at defensive and offensive tackle. Four years of brutal preseason football camps, sweaty shoulder pads and buckets of black eye paint all came down to my last game. I urged my dad to bring our video camera. I wanted to capture the last plays of my football career for posterity1.
Dad got me to play football in the first place. I enjoyed throwing the ball around with my friends, but I didn’t think I had what it took to play on a team. “I’m no football player,” I told my dad.
“You’ll never know what you’re capable of unless you give it a try,” he told me. So, I did. I remember how proud he was when I won the most-improved player award my sophomore2 season, prouder than if I’d been the MVP, and the hug he gave me after I received my varsity letter. There was rarely a game that Dad wasn’t on the sidelines3, cheering me on.
I waved at my parents before the opening kickoff, and put on my game face. Our opponents had the ball first. I crouched down and awaited the snap. My pads crunched4 as I made contact with the offensive tackle. I grabbed at the jersey of the opponent and dragged him to the turf5. A loud cheer erupted from the sidelines. I sure hoped Dad got that one on tape. I straightened my helmet and looked over. There was Dad with the camera, cheering like crazy.
On the next defensive series, I did a spin move and burst through the line to sack their quarterback. A couple plays later, I made another stop of their running back. Great! My last game was turning my intensity up a notch6. It seemed as if every time I came off the field, the coaches were congratulating me for another great play. By the end of the game, I had seven tackles and a sack—my best performance ever. A perfect end to my career. I ran into my dad’s arms. I was sweaty and smelly, but he hugged me anyway.
I couldn’t wait to watch the tape. Relieve every moment. As soon as we got in the house, I took the cassette out of the camera and rewound it in the VCR. My dad, mom, sister and I sat down in the living room in front of the big screen TV and dimmed the lights. I pressed play.
The video started. The two teams lined up before the snap, then the running back taking the handoff, running up to the line, me reaching out, and then...clouds. I could hear my dad, screaming, “Way to go, A!” as images of the sky shook up and down on screen.
