要雪糕纸的男孩/厉剑童(赵金基译）

程思良

要雪糕纸的男孩/厉剑童
　　
　　星期天，我到广场上去。卖雪糕、糖葫芦的、玩耍的随处可见。
　　我买了两根冰棍边吃边逛。突然看见从前面那个秃顶老人身上掉下一张百元大钞。一看无人注意，我捡起钱悄悄装进裤袋。
　　我装作若无其事地走着。一扭头，发现身后五六步远，跟着一个八九岁的男孩，手里拿着厚厚一摞五颜六色的雪糕纸，眼睛紧盯着我。我吃了一惊，莫非他看见我捡到钱？一颗心顿时吊起来。
　　快打发他走好了。
　　小朋友，吃雪糕。我强装镇定，把手里的一只雪糕给他，他咂巴着嘴摇摇头。
　　不要？难道他想见面劈半要钱？我赶紧掏出20元钱给他，他一脸惊讶，还是摇头。
　　我又加了10元。可他还是摇头。
　　你想干什么？！我低声呵斥道。
　　叔叔，我……男孩眼睛盯着我手里的雪糕，吞吞吐吐地说。
　　拿去，装什么羞！我把雪糕往前一送。
　　男孩又摇摇头。
　　想把钱全要去？没门！
　　叔叔，把你手里的雪糕纸给我好吗？
　　什么？要雪糕纸？！我心里又惊又喜。
　　你收集这个？
　　不！我妈妈是清洁工，她有腰疼病。我拾一张雪糕纸，她就可以少弯一次腰……
　　我怔住了。
　　我把雪糕纸给他，他一弯腰，兴奋地说，谢谢叔叔，一蹦一跳地朝垃圾箱跑去……那里，一个清洁女工正低着头清理着垃圾。
　　我的脸上火辣辣的。转身朝秃顶老人去的方向追去……
　　
　　What Do You Want?
　　
　　By Li Jiantong
　　
　　It was Sunday. I was wandering across the square, where some were selling ice-creams, some were selling haws wrapped in syrup on sticks, and some were just enjoying their leisure time.
　　With two ice-creams in hand I was lingering along when I caught sight of a note of 100yuan flutter out of an old balding man ahead of me. No one noticing this seemingly, I picked up the note and slipped it into my pocket.
　　I appeared as if nothing had happened. When looking back, I found myself being followed by an 8-or-9-year-old boy, who was 5 or 6 steps away, with a thick stack of ice-cream wrappers of various colors in his hand, his eyes fixed on me. I was surprised that he might have seen me pick up the note. Then my heart was rising.
　　I’d better take care of him.
　　“Take this ice-cream, buddy.” I made like a cool guy and offered him one ice-cream. He licked his lips and shook his head.
　　No? He’d rather divide the money in half? I fished out 20yuan. With a surprised look, he shook his head again.
　　I added another 10yuan while he still shook his head.
　　“What do you want?” I scolded in a low voice.
　　“Uncle, I…” The boy stuttered, staring at the ice-cream in my hand.
　　“Just take it; don’t be shy!” I offered the ice-cream to him.
　　The boy shook his head again.
　　He’d like the entire note? No way!
　　“Uncle, will you please give me the ice-cream wrappers in your hand?”
　　What? Just the ice-cream wrappers in my hand? I was pleasantly surprised.
　　“Is it your hobby to collect these things?”
　　“No. My mom is a cleaner. She suffers from waist-aches. If I have collected the ice-cream wrapper, she won’t have to stoop down for it.”
　　I was stunned.
　　I gave him the ice-cream wrappers as he bowed and said in excitement, “Thank you, Uncle.” With this, he went bouncing for a dustbin, where a woman cleaner was concentrated on sorting through the trash.
　　With a blush burning on my cheeks, I turned back and chased in the direction of the old balding man.

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