香甜的芭蕉

The street was deserted and quiet. Simon wanted to be mad at his friends， but he wouldve bolted， too， if one of them had thrown the football into Mr. Martinezs yard. Unfortunately， he had made the unlucky pass. Simon paused next to one of Mr. Martinezs magnificent， handmade mirrors that he sold from his front yard. Glittering shards of broken glass reflected the warm springtime Colorado sun.

Even Simons best friend Sawyer had refused to stick around.“Theres no way Im going with you. Mr. Martinez loves those mirrors！ Besides， what if hes still mad about the other day？” Then Sawyer had vanished.

Simon froze on Mr. Martinezs stoop， remembering “the other day”. He was sorry about the broken mirror today， but he was more ashamed of what had happened last weekend.

He and Sawyer had been in Simons front yard “studying” Spanish.“Donde esta el mercado？” Sawyer had begun to quiz him. Simon stretched， “Um， lets see. El mercado esta en mi casa.”“Get serious！” laughed Sawyer. “I asked you where the market is， and you said its in your house. Last time I checked， your mom wasnt running a Piggly Wiggly out of here.”

Simon groaned， “I dont get it. We live in A-ME-RI-CA！ Why does Ms. Perez think we need to know how to speak Spanish？ Im not going to Mexico！ Are you？” Sawyer shook his head. “If people want to speak Spanish， they should just go back to Mexico. Spanish is totally stupid！” Simon was so wrapped up in his rant that he hadnt noticed the color drain from Sawyers face. His friend cleared his throat loudly. “What？” Simon turned around.

Mr. Martinez stood there looking surprised and angry. Simons stomach flip-flopped，“Oh， hi， Mr. Martinez.” Mr. Martinez was Latino， spoke Spanish. Simons foot was crammed so far into his mouth that he could taste his ankle.

“Hello boys. Simon， where is your mother， please？” Mr. Martinez asked politely， even though he still looked angry. “Shes around back，” Sawyer piped up. Simon opened his mouth to apologize， but Mr. Martinez was off， a new mirror under his arm.

Now Simon stood on Mr. Martinezs stoop with a sense of dread. Nervously， Simon rang the bell. Mr. Martinezs normally cheery face darkened when he saw Simon. “Yes， Simon？” he asked civilly. Simon started apologizing to his shoes， “Im sorry， but I broke your mirror.” The old man looked thoughtful， “Football？” Simon could barely nod.

“Come.” Mr. Martinez headed down the hall. Curious， Simon followed. A sweet， warm smell filled the air. Mr. Martinez went to the stove and flipped something in an iron skillet. “Platanos maduros， sweet plantains，” he said when he noticed Simon staring. “Sit.”endprint

Simons hunger battled with his guilt as Mr. Martinez produced a plate piled high with what looked like banana chunks fried a deep golden brown. Simon sampled the first bite hesitantly， but wolfed down the next two. He swallowed his shame with his last bite and said， “Im really sorry about your mirror and about， you know， the other day. Im glad youre not in Mexico.”

“Me too， since I am from Cuba！” Across the table， his neighbors eyes twinkled with mischief as he ate a plantain. “You know， where Im from it is believed that anyone who breaks a mirror will have seven years bad luck.”“Oh great，” Simon groaned， “just what I need！” Mr. Martinez laughed， “No te preocupes， dont worry， my friend. I actually think you are a very lucky boy！”

“How am I lucky？ I cant speak Spanish or throw a decent pass！” Simon eyed his empty plate， wishing he could ask for more. Mr. Martinez carried the plate into the kitchen. “Ah， but if you had not broken my mirror and come to apologize， you would not have found the perfect Spanish tutor. And，” Mr. Martinez returned the refilled plate to the table， “you would never have tried my plantains！ How do you like them？”

Simons mouth was so full that he could barely smile， “Excelente！”

道上空無一人，靜悄悄的。西蒙本來想對朋友們發火，可是轉念一想，如果換做是他們中的某個人把足球踢到馬丁內斯先生的院子里，自己也會跑掉的。不幸的是，那倒霉的一腳恰恰是自己踢的。馬丁內斯先生那些手工打造的、華麗的鏡子陳列在前院出售。西蒙停在一面鏡子旁，破碎的鏡片反射著科羅拉多州的春日暖陽。

連西蒙最好的朋友索耶也不愿留下。“我是絕對不會和你一起去的。馬丁內斯先生那么愛護他的鏡子！再說，要是他還在為前幾天的事生氣怎么辦？”接著，索耶就不見了。

西蒙想起“前幾天的事”，停在馬丁內斯先生的門廊前呆住了。他為今天打破鏡子自責，但更為上個周末發生的事羞愧。

那天，他和索耶在自家的前院學習西班牙語。“Donde esta el mercado？（西班牙語：市場在哪里？）”索耶開始考他。西蒙伸了個懶腰說：“嗯，讓我想一想。El mercado esta en mi casa.（西班牙語：市場在我家。）”“嚴肅點兒！”索耶樂了，“我問你市場在哪里，你回答在你家里。上次我檢查的時候，你媽媽并沒有在家里開超級市場。”

西蒙抱怨說：“我就不明白了，我們生活在美國！為什么佩雷斯女士認為我們要會說西班牙語呢？我又不去墨西哥！你去嗎？”索耶搖了搖頭。“如果有人想說西班牙語，他們就應該回墨西哥去。西班牙語簡直太愚蠢了！”西蒙說得激昂憤慨，沒注意到索耶變得煞白的臉色。索耶大聲地清了清嗓子。“怎么了？”西蒙轉過身去看。

馬丁內斯先生站在那兒，看起來既吃驚又生氣。西蒙的胃里五味雜陳：“哦，嗨，馬丁內斯先生。”馬丁內斯先生是拉丁美洲人，說西班牙語。西蒙使勁低著頭，恨不得找個地縫鉆進去。

“小伙子們，你們好啊！西蒙，請問你媽媽在哪里？”馬丁內斯先生禮貌地問道，即便他看起來很生氣。“她在后院。”索耶尖聲回答道。西蒙張嘴想道歉，但是馬丁內斯先生已經走了，腋下夾著一面新鏡子。

現在，西蒙站在馬丁內斯先生的門廊前，心里直打鼓。西蒙緊張地按響了門鈴。馬丁內斯先生向來和顏悅色，但見到西蒙后，臉瞬間陰沉了下來。“有事嗎，西蒙？”他客氣地問。“對不起，是我打碎了你的鏡子。”西蒙盯著自己的腳尖開始道歉。這位老人若有所思：“足球？”西蒙為難地點點頭。

“進來吧。”馬丁內斯先生走進屋里。西蒙好奇地跟了進去。屋里彌漫著一股溫暖香甜的味道。馬丁內斯先生走到灶前，把鍋里的東西翻攪了一下，對他說：“Platanos maduros（西班牙語：甜芭蕉），香甜的芭蕉。坐吧。”說話間，西蒙一直盯著鍋里看。

當馬丁內斯先生端出一盤摞得高高的像油炸香蕉一樣金黃色的東西時，西蒙的饞蟲開始與負罪感斗爭。他猶豫著嘗了第一口，接著就開始狼吞虎咽了。吃完最后一口，西蒙的負罪感也跟著下肚了，他說：“鏡子的事我真的很抱歉。還有，你知道的，前幾天我真高興你不是在墨西哥。”

“我也是，因為我其實是古巴人！”桌子那頭，他的鄰居一邊吃著芭蕉一邊調皮般地沖他眨眼，“你知道嗎？在我的家鄉，人們認為打碎鏡子的人會有七年的霉運。”“哦，那太好了，”西蒙咕噥著，“正是我應得的。”馬丁內斯先生哈哈大笑：“No te preocupes（西班牙語：別擔心），別擔心，朋友。我倒覺得你是個非常幸運的孩子。”

“我怎么會幸運？我不會說西班牙語，也沒踢得一腳好球！”西蒙看著自己吃空了的盤子，希望能再要點兒。馬丁內斯先生把盤子拿回廚房，邊走邊說：“嗯，但是如果你沒打碎我的鏡子，或者不來道歉的話，你就不會找到我這個完美的西班牙語家教。”說著，他又盛了一盤芭蕉出來：“還有，你就吃不到我做的芭蕉了！覺得味道怎么樣？”

西蒙嘴里塞得太滿，都沒法笑了：“Excelente！（西班牙語：太棒了！）”endprint