《我的安東尼婭》（節選）

【導讀】薇拉·凱瑟（1873—1947），美國小說家，普利策獎獲得者，以描寫美國中西部內布拉斯加州的草原生活而聞名。薇拉幼時隨父母移居該州一個叫“紅云鎮”的地方，因該鎮地處邊疆，所以她有機會接觸到來自瑞典、波希米亞、俄羅斯、德國等歐洲移民，并了解他們的生活點滴，這成為其創作的重要素材。長篇小說《啊，拓荒者！》（O Pioneers！，1913）和《我的安東尼婭》（My Antonia，1918）是公認的佳作，生動再現了早期歐洲移民在美國艱苦奮斗的歷程——移民的開拓精神和生活勇氣可歌可泣，移民的自然淳樸亦可愛動人！本文節譯自《我的安東尼婭》第二部“雇來的姑娘們”（The Hired Girls）第八章。冰消雪融后，內布拉斯加州草原小鎮迎來了迷人的春，然而春是那么短暫，它的離開不免使人悵然。夏的酷熱雖然不使人歡欣，但正是在夏季，外來客才駐扎進小鎮，一下子將它的封閉打破。他們帶來的音樂為小鎮注入了無窮的活力，使它變得活潑又開放！孩子們都生龍活虎，小伙子們個個喜形于色，姑娘們則暗暗心動，連老人們都樂在其中！可是，有什么比得了有舞會的夏夜呢？它最能使年輕人沉醉，不是嗎？

The Harling children and I were never happier， never felt more contented and secure， than in the weeks of spring which broke that long winter. We were out all day in the thin sunshine， helping Mrs. Harling and Tony break the ground and plant the garden， dig around the orchard trees， tie up vines and clip the hedges. Every morning， before I was up， I could hear Tony singing in the garden rows. After the apple and cherry trees broke into bloom， we ran about under them， hunting for the new nests the birds were building， throwing clods at each other， and playing hide-and-seek with Nina. Yet the summer which was to change everything was coming nearer every day. When boys and girls are growing up， life cant stand still， not even in the quietest of country towns; and they have to grow up， whether they will or no. That is what their elders are always forgetting.

It must have been in June， for Mrs. Harling and Antonia were preserving cherries， when I stopped one morning to tell them that a dancing pavilion had come to town. I had seen two drays hauling the canvas and painted poles up from the depot.

That afternoon three cheerful-looking Italians strolled about Black Hawk， looking at everything， and with them was a dark， stout woman who wore a long gold watch-chain about her neck and carried a black lace parasol. They seemed especially interested in children and vacant lots. When I overtook them and stopped to say a word， I found them affable and confiding. They told me they worked in Kansas City in the winter， and in summer they went out among the farming towns with their tent and taught dancing. When business fell off in one place， they moved on to another.

The dancing pavilion was put up near the Danish laundry， on a vacant lot surrounded by tall， arched cottonwood trees. It was very much like a merry-go-round tent， with open sides and gay flags flying from the poles. Before the week was over， all the ambitious mothers were sending their children to the afternoon dancing class. At three oclock one met little girls in white dresses and little boys in the round-collared shirts of the time， hurrying along the sidewalk on their way to the tent. Mrs. Vanni received them at the entrance， always dressed in lavender with a great deal of black lace， her important watch-chain lying on her bosom. She wore her hair on the top of her head， built up in a black tower， with red coral combs. When she smiled， she showed two rows of strong， crooked yellow teeth. She taught the little children herself， and her husband， the harpist， taught the older ones.

Often the mothers brought their fancywork and sat on the shady side of the tent during the lesson. The popcorn man wheeled his glass wagon under the big cottonwood by the door， and lounged in the sun， sure of a good trade when the dancing was over. Mr. Jensen， the Danish laundryman， used to bring a chair from his porch and sit out in the grass plot. Some ragged little boys from the depot sold pop and iced lemonade under a white umbrella at the corner， and made faces at the spruce youngsters who came to dance. That vacant lot soon became the most cheerful place in town. Even on the hottest afternoons the cottonwoods made a rustling shade， and the air smelled of popcorn and melted butter， and Bouncing Bets wilting in the sun. Those hardy flowers had run away from the laundrymans garden， and the grass in the middle of the lot was pink with them.

The Vannis kept exemplary order， and closed every evening at the hour suggested by the city council. When Mrs. Vanni gave the signal， and the harp struck up ‘Home， Sweet Home， all Black Hawk knew it was ten oclock. You could set your watch by that tune as confidently as by the roundhouse whistle.

At last there was something to do in those long， empty summer evenings， when the married people sat like images on their front porches， and the boys and girls tramped and tramped the board sidewalks—northward to the edge of the open prairie， south to the depot， then back again to the post-office， the ice-cream parlour， the butcher shop. Now there was a place where the girls could wear their new dresses， and where one could laugh aloud without being reproved by the ensuing silence. That silence seemed to ooze out of the ground， to hang under the foliage of the black maple trees with the bats and shadows. Now it was broken by lighthearted sounds. First the deep purring of Mr. Vannis harp came in silvery ripples through the blackness of the dusty-smelling night; then the violins fell in—one of them was almost like a flute. They called so archly， so seductively， that our feet hurried toward the tent of themselves. Why hadnt we had a tent before？

Dancing became popular now， just as roller skating had been the summer before. The Progressive Euchre Club arranged with the Vannis for the exclusive use of the floor on Tuesday and Friday nights. At other times anyone could dance who paid his money and was orderly; the railroad men， the roundhouse mechanics， the delivery boys， the iceman， the farm-hands who lived near enough to ride into town after their days work was over.

I never missed a Saturday night dance. The tent was open until midnight then. The country boys came in from farms eight and ten miles away， and all the country girls were on the floor—Antonia and Lena and Tiny， and the Danish laundry girls and their friends. I was not the only boy who found these dances gayer than the others. The young men who belonged to the Progressive Euchre Club used to drop in late and risk a tiff with their sweethearts and general condemnation for a waltz with ‘the hired girls.

春打破了漫漫寒冬，在那短短幾個禮拜的春日里，我和哈林家的孩子們過得無比快樂，感受到了從未有過的愜意安適。我們成日介不著家，沐浴在稀薄的陽光里，幫助哈林太太和托尼開墾土地，在果園里栽種，給果樹刨土，綁搭葡萄藤，修剪籬笆。每天清晨，我人未起床，就能聽到托尼在果園的排排果樹間歌唱。待到蘋果樹和櫻桃樹開花，我們鉆到樹下，不是搜尋鳥兒新筑的窩，就是互扔土塊，要么和尼娜玩躲貓貓。然而，將改變一切的夏一天天靠近了。男孩女孩漸漸長大，生活無法再保持原樣，即使是在最安靜的鄉村;不管情不情愿，他們都得長大。這一點，長輩們總會忘記。

記得一天早上，那一定是六月里，因為哈林太太和安東尼婭正在腌制櫻桃，我路過時停下來告訴她們鎮上來了移動舞廳。我見兩輛貨運馬車從火車站運出帆布和彩色漆柱。

那天下午，三個形容歡快的意大利人在黑鷹鎮上溜達，東瞧西望，和他們一起的是一位皮膚黝黑、身形敦實的女士，她脖頸間掛著長長的金表鏈，手擎黑色蕾絲陽傘。他們看上去對孩子和空地尤其感興趣。我追上去和他們攀談，發現他們和藹可親、為人坦率。我得知他們冬日在堪薩斯城工作，夏日攜帶帳篷到各個鄉村小鎮教人們跳舞。在一個地方干不下去時，他們便輾轉他處。

舞廳搭建在丹麥人的洗衣店附近，高高的拱形三角葉楊圈出一片空地。那像極了旋轉木馬篷，圍欄是開放式的，幾根柱子上有色彩艷麗的旗子飛揚。不等休息日，有想法的媽媽就把孩子送到下午舞蹈班了。下午三點鐘，人們總能看到身著白裙的小女孩和穿著時髦圓領衫的小男孩沿著便道匆匆趕往跳舞篷。萬尼太太在入口處迎接他們，她總是一身淡紫色，飾有大量黑色蕾絲，那寶貝似的懷表鏈總是不離胸前。她將頭發挽到頭頂，再把紅色的珊瑚發簪一插，就出來一個塔狀的黑色發髻。她一笑，會露出兩排結實但歪斜的黃牙。她自己教小小孩;她的丈夫，那個豎琴師，教稍大點兒的。

孩子們上課時，媽媽們通常坐在帳篷外有陰涼的那邊，做些針線活。賣爆米花的把玻璃窗推車推到門口那棵高大的三角葉楊樹下，懶洋洋地歪躺在陽光下，滿有把握地等待舞蹈課結束后的好生意。丹麥洗衣工詹森先生常常從他的門廊里搬出把椅子，在外邊的草地上歇坐。有幾個衣衫襤褸的小男孩從火車站過來，在拐角處的白傘下售賣汽水和冰鎮檸檬汁，他們對打扮得齊整漂亮、前來跳舞的少年們做著鬼臉。 一下子，素日的空地成了鎮上最歡樂的所在。哪怕是暑氣最逼人的午后，三角葉楊照樣窸窣作響，投下一片陰涼，空氣中彌漫著爆米花和黃油融化的香味，還有被曬蔫兒了的肥皂草。這些生命力頑強的花兒四處蔓延，長到了洗衣工家的花園外，空地中央的那塊草地都被它們染成了粉紅色。

萬尼夫婦安分守己，每晚都在市議會規定的時間收工。萬尼太太指令一出，豎琴便彈奏起民謠“可愛的家”，這樣一來，黑鷹鎮全鎮都曉得十點到了。根據這個曲子來調表，準保分秒不差，就和圓形機車庫的哨聲一樣準！

漫長寂寥的夏夜里，人們終于有得消遣了，已婚夫婦不必再雕像般呆坐在臨街的門廊下，小子和丫頭們也不是只能在木板鋪的路牙上蹦跶來蹦跶去了——這里北通開闊草原的邊緣，南達火車站，中間隔著郵政局、冰激凌店、肉食鋪子。終于有個地方可以讓姑娘們穿上新裙子，有個地方可以讓人們開懷大笑而不用擔心笑過后遭遇尷尬冷場，像被指責。那種冷場好似從地底下滲出一般，懸于黑槭的簇簇葉片下，那里有蝙蝠棲息，陰影幢幢。如今，它為輕松愉快的聲響所破。先是萬尼先生撥動豎琴，弦音沉緩柔和，似泛起的銀色漣漪，漫過散發著土味的暗夜;接著幾把小提琴奏響了，其中一把聽著頗似長笛。這些聲音如此頑皮，如此撩人，我們的腳不由自主匆匆奔向那頂帳篷。以前我們怎么就不想著搭一個呢？

這個夏天，大家愛上了跳舞，那股勁兒不輸去年夏天對滑旱冰的喜愛。進步尤卡俱樂部與萬尼夫婦商定，每周二、五晚上，場地專門留給他們使用。其他時間，誰付了錢，誰規矩守禮，誰就可以進篷跳舞;包括那些鐵路工、機車庫修理工、郵遞員、送冰人和農場工人，他們都住得夠近，一天的勞作結束后能搭車來鎮上。

我從沒錯過任何一場禮拜六晚上的舞會。那時舞篷一直開到午夜。鄉下的小伙子們從八英里、十英里外的農場趕來，鄉里所有的姑娘都在舞場上——不僅有安東尼婭、莉娜和蒂尼姐妹三人，還有丹麥洗衣工家的幾個姑娘和她們的朋友。在這里跳舞比在其他地方都開心——這么想的男孩可不止我一個。進步尤卡俱樂部的小伙子們常常很晚才到，冒著和心上人吵嘴及眾人譴責的風險與“雇用女孩”跳上一支華爾茲。 ? ? □

（譯者單位：北京科技大學外國語學院）