Unit10GoingHome課文翻譯大學(xué)英語一

1、Unit 10 Going HomeI first heard this story a few years ago from a girl I had met in New York's Greenwich Village. Probably the story is one of those mysterious bits of folklore that reappear every few year, to be told anew in one form or another. However, I still like to think that it really did

2、 happen, somewhere, sometime.They were going to Fort Lauderdale - 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 spring of Now York vanished behind them.As the bus passed thr

3、ough 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 kept chewing the inside of his lip a lot, frozen into complete silence.Deep into the night, outside Washington, the bus pulled into Howard John

4、son's, 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 from his wife, an old soldier going home. When they went back to the bus, one of the girls sat beside him and

5、introduced herself."We're going to Florida," she said brightly. "I hear it's really 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 from the bottle. He thanke

6、d 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 Johnson's, and this time Vingo went in. The girl insisted that he join them. He seemed very shy, and ordered black coffee and smoked

7、 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 began go tell his story. He had been in jail in New York for the past four years, and now he was going home."Are you marr

8、ied?""I don't know.""You don't know?" she said."Well, when I was in jail 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 askin' questions, if it hurt her too

9、 much, well, she could jus 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. And she didn't. Not for three and a half years.""And you're going home now, not knowin

10、g?""Yeah," he said shyly. "Well, last week, when I was sure the parole was coming through, I wrote the 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 didn't have a new guy and if

11、 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 I'd go on through.""Wow," the girl exclaimed. "Wow."She told the others, and soon all of them were in

12、 it, caught up in the approach of Brunswick, looking at the pictures Vingo showed them of his wife and three children - the woman handsome in a plain way, the children still unformed in the much-handled snapshots.Now they were 20 miles from Brunswick, and the young people took over window seats on t

13、he right side, waiting for the approach of the great oak tree. Vingo stopped looking, tightening his face, as id fortifying himself against still another disappointment.Then Brunswick was 10 miles, and then five. Then, suddenly, all of the young people were up out of their seats, screaming and shout

14、ing and crying, doing small dances of joy. 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

15、slowly rose from his seat and made his way to the front of the bus to go home.我是在幾年前，從在紐約格林威治村碰到的一個女孩子那里第一次聽到這個故事的。這故事很可能是那些每隔幾年就會重新出現(xiàn)，以一種新的說法再被講述一遍的神秘的民間傳說中的一個。然而，我依然愿意相信這故事確實曾在某個地方、某個時間發(fā)生過。回家他們要去洛德代爾堡三個男孩子和三個女孩子。他們用紙袋裝著夾心面包和葡萄酒上了公共汽車。當(dāng)紐約灰暗寒冷的春天在他們身后消失時，他們正夢想著金色的海灘和大海的潮水。公共汽車駛過新澤西州時，他們開始注意到了文戈。他坐在他

16、們前面，穿著一套不合身的便服，一動不動。他風(fēng)塵滿面，讓人看不出他有多大歲數(shù)。他不停地咬著嘴唇內(nèi)側(cè)，表情冷淡，默默無言。深夜，公共汽車駛抵華盛頓郊外，停進(jìn)了霍華德·約翰遜餐館。所有人都下了車，只有文戈除外。他像生了根似地坐在座位上，幾個年輕人開始詫異起來，試圖想像出他的身世：他或許是位海船船長，或是一個拋下妻子離家出走的人，再不就是一個回家的老兵。當(dāng)他們回到車上時，一個女孩子便坐到他身邊，作了自我介紹。"我們要到佛羅里達(dá)去，"她興高采烈地說。"聽說那兒的確很美。""是的，"他輕聲說道，仿佛想起了他一直想忘卻的什么東西。&quo

17、t;想喝點酒嗎？"她問。他微微一笑，就著瓶子喝了一大口。他謝了謝她，又縮回去一聲不響了。過了一會兒，她回到自己一伙人身邊，而文戈則打著盹睡著了。第二天早上，他們醒來，車已停在另一家霍華德·約翰遜餐館外面。這一次文戈進(jìn)去了。那女孩一定要他跟他們坐在一起。他好像很害羞，要了杯不加牛奶的清咖啡，在年輕人喋喋不休地議論著露宿沙灘的樂趣時，他卻緊張不安地在抽煙?；氐杰嚿弦院?，那女孩又跟文戈坐在了一起。過了一會兒，他慢吞吞地、不勝心酸地講起了他的身世。他在紐約坐了四年牢，現(xiàn)在要回家了。"你有太太嗎？""不知道。"  "你不知道

18、？"她問。"是這樣的，我在坐牢的時候曾寫信給我妻子，"他說。"我告訴她我要離開很長一段時間，要是她受不了，要是孩子們老是問這問那，要是這事太讓她傷心，那她可以干脆忘掉我。我會理解的。我說，再找個男人，忘掉我吧，她是個很好的女人，真的挺不錯。我告訴她不必給我寫信。她沒有寫。三年半沒有給我寫信。" "你現(xiàn)在什么也不知道就這樣回家？""嗯，"他羞答答地說。"噢，上個禮拜，當(dāng)我得知我的假釋即將獲準(zhǔn)時，我又給她寫了封信。我們過去一直住在杰克遜維爾不遠(yuǎn)的布倫斯威克，就在鎮(zhèn)口有一棵大橡樹。我告訴她，要是她沒有別的男人，要是她還想讓我回去，就在樹上系一條黃手絹，我就會下車回家。要是她不要我，就當(dāng)沒這回事好了不要系手絹，我就跟著汽車一直到底。""哇，"女孩子叫了起來。"哇。"她告訴了別的人，很快大家全知道了，大家全都關(guān)注著布倫斯威克的到來。他們看著文戈拿給他們的幾張照片