寫一個關于她的故事
This was the summer that I think I became a writer. I was thirteen years old. I wore steel-rimmed glasses and I was a very solemn boy. Not that I was sad, but I simply was paying attention. I'd been given a typewriter by my Uncle George, when he got an electric. He gave me his
old Underwood typewriter and I set it up inthe basement. I had a secret place under the stairs behind a stack of sheet rock.I sat in there and wrote where my parents could not see me because they were worried, you know, that I didn't go outside. And they believed in the illusion of a balanced life, you know, you do a little bit of this, you do a little bit of that. I justwanted to do onething. I just wanted to find things to write about.
old Underwood typewriter and I set it up inthe basement. I had a secret place under the stairs behind a stack of sheet rock.I sat in there and wrote where my parents could not see me because they were worried, you know, that I didn't go outside. And they believed in the illusion of a balanced life, you know, you do a little bit of this, you do a little bit of that. I justwanted to do onething. I just wanted to find things to write about.
我想當作家的念頭是在這個夏天冒出來的。那年我十三歲了，戴著一副銀邊眼鏡，是個不茍言笑的男孩。倒不是因為心情不好，我只是在琢磨事兒。喬治叔叔買了一臺電打字機后，就把手打打字機給了我。他給我的是一臺安德伍牌老式打字機，我把它架在地下室里。樓梯下石磚墻后是我的密室。我坐在里面寫東西，爸媽看不到我，你知道，我之所以要秘密行事是因為他們擔心我總不出門。他們相信生活應該有多方面平衡，就是讓你做做這個又做做那個。而我只想做一件事——練筆。
I liked to write about tornadoes: Tornadoes, which come out of a peaceful summer day in the Midwest. And the sky's blue and then suddenly it's dark as night and this great snake-like cloud comes slithering across the landscape, smashing houses at random, destroying this one, leaving this standing. I liked that idea.
我想寫寫龍卷風：一個平靜的夏日里，在中西部驟然刮起了龍卷風。蔚藍的天空霎時間變得像夜晚一樣漆黑，蛇一般的巨大煙云卷過地面，將房屋揉得粉碎，摧毀了這間，放過了那間。我太喜歡寫龍卷風了。
I wrote a story, a sort of autobiographical story, about a family from New York, amicrobiologist and his actress wife, and their son, who looked, and walked, and talked, and thought, and felt exactly like me. I sat in the backseat and they were driving across the Midwest, and they forgot me... at a gas station. We stopped for a rest stop... and they forgot me, and they drove away. Iwalked up the road that they had driven and suddenly the sky turned dark and... a tornado came up and it picked me up and it carried me and dropped me, uninjured, in the yard of asanctified Brethren family. I knocked on the door and a woman in a white satin gown holding a flaming torch came out and asked me what I wanted. And I was going to tell them that I had to leave to look for my parents and then the dog spoke to me. The dog said,"Stay." So, I stayed. But still, Imissed the life of glamour that I had known on New York's exclusive Upper West Side. I love to write stories like that.
我寫了一個故事，自傳式的故事，說的是一個紐約家庭，家里有一個微生物學家，當演員的妻子，還有他們的兒子--那孩子的模樣和走路、說話、思考的方式簡直跟我一樣。我坐在汽車的后座，他們開車穿越中西部，后來他們把我忘在了一個加油站。我們停車休息，然后他們就把我給落下了，開車走了。我沿著他們車駛去的方向走著，突然間，天空暗了下來， 龍卷風大作，風卷起我吹啊吹，毫發(fā)不傷地把我扔在一個圣教徒家的后院里。我敲敲門，一個身穿白色緞袍的女人舉著一把熊熊的火炬，走出來問我想干什么。我正想說我想去找我的爸媽，一條狗沖著我說話了：“留下來吧。”于是，我就留下了。但是，我還是很懷念在紐約高尚住宅區(qū)的好日子。我就喜歡寫這樣的故事。
I sat there at my Underwood typewriter, but I wished that something real would happen.
我坐在安德伍牌打字機前，想寫些真實的事兒。
That was the summer that my cousin, Helen-Marie, came to stay with us suddenly. She was seventeen. She was four years older than I and I'd always admired her. She was lovelier than the rest of us. The rest of us had our family's looks; we had homely faces and she was pretty. She had blonde hair, a rarity in our famil.
那年夏天，我的表姐海倫•瑪莉突然來我們家住下。她十七歲，比我大四歲，我很喜歡她。她比我們家的其他人都可愛。其他人都有著家族的容貌特征，臉蛋兒一點兒也不起眼，她卻很漂亮。那一頭金發(fā)在我們家族里是極少見的。
Then I wrote a story about her; about a girl who is cooking lunch at home one day and a woman in a white satin dress holding a flaming torch bursts in through the door, and it startles the girl so much that she drops the cast iron skillet on her dog and the dog bites her and she gets an incurable blood disease from this. Doctors give her two weeks to live, and then, on top of everything, a tornado comes in and it blows the roof off the house and it impales four blades of grass in her side. And there's something on that grass that cures that blood disease. Medical science has never seen anything like it. She's cured. She comes home. And that nightthedogscratchesonherdoor,andthedogsays,"Aren't you curious to know what it was on the grass that cured that blood disease?" I sort of liked the story.
于是我就寫了一個關于她的故事，說的是有一天，一個女孩正在家里做午飯時，有個穿著白色緞袍的女人手里舉著熊熊的火炬從門外闖了進來，女孩嚇了一大跳，把鐵鍋砸到了她的狗，狗咬了她一口，她從此就得了一種沒法治的血液病。醫(yī)生說她只能活兩個星期了，這時，一股龍卷風刮了進來，它掀掉屋頂，四片草葉子刺到她的身上。草葉子上面的什么東西就把她的血液病給治好了。醫(yī)學上從來沒有見過這種奇事。她痊愈了，回到了家。那天晚上，小狗抓撓著她的房門，那狗問她說： “你難道不想知道草葉子上面是什么東西治好了你的血液病嗎？”我喜歡這樣的故事。
我想寫寫龍卷風：一個平靜的夏日里，在中西部驟然刮起了龍卷風。蔚藍的天空霎時間變得像夜晚一樣漆黑，蛇一般的巨大煙云卷過地面，將房屋揉得粉碎，摧毀了這間，放過了那間。我太喜歡寫龍卷風了。
I wrote a story, a sort of autobiographical story, about a family from New York, amicrobiologist and his actress wife, and their son, who looked, and walked, and talked, and thought, and felt exactly like me. I sat in the backseat and they were driving across the Midwest, and they forgot me... at a gas station. We stopped for a rest stop... and they forgot me, and they drove away. Iwalked up the road that they had driven and suddenly the sky turned dark and... a tornado came up and it picked me up and it carried me and dropped me, uninjured, in the yard of asanctified Brethren family. I knocked on the door and a woman in a white satin gown holding a flaming torch came out and asked me what I wanted. And I was going to tell them that I had to leave to look for my parents and then the dog spoke to me. The dog said,"Stay." So, I stayed. But still, Imissed the life of glamour that I had known on New York's exclusive Upper West Side. I love to write stories like that.
我寫了一個故事，自傳式的故事，說的是一個紐約家庭，家里有一個微生物學家，當演員的妻子，還有他們的兒子--那孩子的模樣和走路、說話、思考的方式簡直跟我一樣。我坐在汽車的后座，他們開車穿越中西部，后來他們把我忘在了一個加油站。我們停車休息，然后他們就把我給落下了，開車走了。我沿著他們車駛去的方向走著，突然間，天空暗了下來， 龍卷風大作，風卷起我吹啊吹，毫發(fā)不傷地把我扔在一個圣教徒家的后院里。我敲敲門，一個身穿白色緞袍的女人舉著一把熊熊的火炬，走出來問我想干什么。我正想說我想去找我的爸媽，一條狗沖著我說話了：“留下來吧。”于是，我就留下了。但是，我還是很懷念在紐約高尚住宅區(qū)的好日子。我就喜歡寫這樣的故事。
I sat there at my Underwood typewriter, but I wished that something real would happen.
我坐在安德伍牌打字機前，想寫些真實的事兒。
That was the summer that my cousin, Helen-Marie, came to stay with us suddenly. She was seventeen. She was four years older than I and I'd always admired her. She was lovelier than the rest of us. The rest of us had our family's looks; we had homely faces and she was pretty. She had blonde hair, a rarity in our famil.
那年夏天，我的表姐海倫•瑪莉突然來我們家住下。她十七歲，比我大四歲，我很喜歡她。她比我們家的其他人都可愛。其他人都有著家族的容貌特征，臉蛋兒一點兒也不起眼，她卻很漂亮。那一頭金發(fā)在我們家族里是極少見的。
Then I wrote a story about her; about a girl who is cooking lunch at home one day and a woman in a white satin dress holding a flaming torch bursts in through the door, and it startles the girl so much that she drops the cast iron skillet on her dog and the dog bites her and she gets an incurable blood disease from this. Doctors give her two weeks to live, and then, on top of everything, a tornado comes in and it blows the roof off the house and it impales four blades of grass in her side. And there's something on that grass that cures that blood disease. Medical science has never seen anything like it. She's cured. She comes home. And that nightthedogscratchesonherdoor,andthedogsays,"Aren't you curious to know what it was on the grass that cured that blood disease?" I sort of liked the story.
于是我就寫了一個關于她的故事，說的是有一天，一個女孩正在家里做午飯時，有個穿著白色緞袍的女人手里舉著熊熊的火炬從門外闖了進來，女孩嚇了一大跳，把鐵鍋砸到了她的狗，狗咬了她一口，她從此就得了一種沒法治的血液病。醫(yī)生說她只能活兩個星期了，這時，一股龍卷風刮了進來，它掀掉屋頂，四片草葉子刺到她的身上。草葉子上面的什么東西就把她的血液病給治好了。醫(yī)學上從來沒有見過這種奇事。她痊愈了，回到了家。那天晚上，小狗抓撓著她的房門，那狗問她說： “你難道不想知道草葉子上面是什么東西治好了你的血液病嗎？”我喜歡這樣的故事。
