BB Gun
The day my father gave me a BB gun was my twelfth birthday,and I almost couldn’t help jumping up and down when I saw what it was.With a smile,he led me outside and showed me how to shoot――first loading the gun,pumping it a few times,aiming,and,finally,firing.Before handing the gun to me,he in-toned ,“I don’t ever want to see you killing anything.That’ s not why I bought you this gun.”I think he was afraid that I‘ d learn what real power felt like.Whatever.It was okay with me because I figured I‘ d find plenty of other targets.
“Hey,Mike.”I yelled to my friend upon making one of my greatest discoveries.“Check this out.”I aimed at the top of the telephone pole.“What’ re you doing?”he asked.I fired,and the BB smacked1) the top of the pole,causing a loud“DING”to ring out.“Cool.”Mike said.I smiled like the king of the world――a smile that grew even wider when Mike couldn’t hit the same target.The neat thing was that no matter how many times you shot those things they never broke.Then again,maybe that’s why it got boring.
A few months later,I found myself walking down the street,gun in hand,searching for new targets.I stopped by a telephone pole,popping off a few shots with nothing better to do.Suddenly,a bird swooped down and landed on the wire.It was a pigeon,and it cooed and shuffled its footing,completely oblivious to my watchful eye.Here I was,a bored kid,holding a BB gun,and a bird standing right there in front of me――and no one around to tell my dad.It was so perfect,I figured it was a sign from God.I aimed straight at the pigeon2),held my breath,and squeezed3) slowly upon the trigger.But I hesitated.I was about to kill a bird,a concept that felt at one moment queazy,at another exciting.The exciting part won.
I fired.The bird dropped like a rock,one wing flopping behind as it fell.The bushes obscured4) its impact,but I heard it thump into the dirt.Before lowering the gun,I realized what I’d done ――I‘d killed my first animal.I should’ve ran to my friend Mike’s house and dragged him back to see the dead pigeon.But instead I whispered,“Oh no,”and charged into the brush.My stomach was tied in knots5),and I prayed,“Oh God,please don’t let it be dead.”The pigeon lay there with blood streaming from its beak,feathers large and small scattered about.I poked it with the gun barrel but it remained still.I reached out and rolled it over,but its head drooped lifelessly to the side.After burying it,I hurried home,stashed my BB gun in the closet and went to hide in my room.
When my dad got home that evening,I forced myself to go downstairs so he wouldn’t think anything was wrong,but,the instant he looked at me,I‘d have sworn he knew.Yet he put an arm around me and said,“Hey son,how was your day?”“Um,okay.”I told him.“That’s all,”he frowned,“just okay?”I could feel my face tingling6).“Yeah,just okay.”And,trying to make it at least halfway believable,I shrugged7).He nodded,hand still resting on my shoulder.“Well,”he said,“it’s almost dinner time.Let’ s go set the table.”
I was dead silent as I laid the plates out.I felt as though every time I turned around,Dad was looking at me,but whenever I stole a glance in his direction,he seemed simply to be paying attention to collecting forks and arranging glass.After Dad poured me some milk,I barely uttered a “thank you”as he took his seat.Watching him,I figured if I could just make it through dinner,I‘ d be okay.Mom gave us each a potato and uncovered the main dish in the center of the table.It was chicken.I almost barfed on my plate.I looked at my mom,then at my dad,and,just before bursting into tears8),I pushed my chair back and ran to my room.I had my head buried in my pillow when I felt Dad rubbing my back.My tears slowly faded9),and I was able to lift my head.He didn’t say anything,but just rested his hand upon me and waited with a soft look in his eye.
“I...”my voice cracked and I cleared my throat.“I shot a bird today.”“Oh?”my father replied,his expression unchanging.“Yeah.It was a pigeon.On the telephone line.I killed it.”Dad paused before asking,“And how did it feel?”“It felt...Awful,”I answered and looked down.
“I’ m sure it did.That’s one of the reasons I said you shouldn’t shoot birds.”I glanced at him,“Are you gonna punish me?”
“Hmm,”he replied with his finger on his lips.“You misused your BB gun,and you disobeyed me.What you need is to always remember how bad it felt to kill that poor bird.”I turned my head down again,but he put a finger on my chin and lifted until I met his gaze.“Somehow,”he told me.“I think you will.”And,slapping me on the rear,he said,“Now lets go get dinner.”
Little did I know as I slid from the bed that my father was right――I would remember killing that bird――along with a lot of other things――the rest of my life.
氣 槍
父親送給我氣槍的那一天正是我12歲的生日??吹将C槍的那一時刻,我高興得差點兒跳了起來。帶著微笑,父親將我領(lǐng)到屋外,告訴我該如何射擊---先裝上子彈,壓幾回氣,然后瞄準(zhǔn),最后射擊。把獵槍遞給我之前,父親一板一眼地說道,“我可不想讓你殺害生靈。這可不是我給你買這枝槍的初衷。”我想他是怕我已經(jīng)知道真正的權(quán)力意味著什么。不管怎樣,這對我來講倒也沒有什么關(guān)系,因為我知道會有許多別的東西可以成為靶子。
“嘿,邁克。”我大聲喊著我朋友的名字,發(fā)現(xiàn)他我真是喜出望外。“看著點兒。”我舉槍瞄向了電話線桿的頂部。“你在干什么?”他問道。我開了一槍,子彈擊中了電話線桿的頂部,發(fā)出“叮當(dāng)”一聲響。“太棒了。”邁克說道。我像一位世界之王似地笑了。當(dāng)邁克沒能擊中同一目標(biāo)的時候,我笑得越發(fā)地得意了。射擊這樣的目標(biāo)的好處是不管你打了幾槍,目標(biāo)永不會破損。你便可以一而再、再而三地射擊??梢苍S正是因此,它開始變得乏味了。
幾個月之后,我沿著街道走著,手中提著那枝槍,搜尋著新的目標(biāo)。在一個電話線桿的前面我停下了腳步,百無聊賴地隨便地放了幾槍。忽然間,一只小鳥輕巧地落在了電線上。那是一只鴿子。它咕咕地叫著并左右不停地移動。這一切都盡收我的眼底。這里的我正無所事事,手中提著一枝氣槍,而眼前的不遠(yuǎn)處則落著一只鴿子。沒有人會告訴父親。太妙了。我心想這肯定是上帝的旨意。于是,我瞄準(zhǔn)了那只鴿子,屏住呼吸,慢慢地開始扣動扳機(jī)。就在子彈即將出膛的一瞬間,我一下子猶豫了。我就要射殺一只小鳥,這個念頭令我感到很不安。然而與此同時,興奮之情卻占據(jù)了我的另一半心房。終于后者戰(zhàn)勝了前者。
我開了槍。那只鳥像一塊石頭一樣落了下來,墜落中它的一只翅膀還在不停地?fù)潋v著。由于草叢的遮擋,我沒有目睹它是如何落地的,但是我卻聽到了它摔在土里發(fā)出的撞擊聲。槍尚未放下,我便意識到我做了什么---我第一次親手殺害了一只動物。我本可以跑到朋友邁克家,把他拉去看看那只死鴿子。但是,我想不能這樣做,于是暗叫了一聲“啊,不”,便一頭沖進(jìn)了樹叢。此時我心亂如麻,嘴中祈禱道,“啊,上帝,請不要讓它死去。”那只鴿子躺在那里,鮮血從嘴中不停地涌出來,大大小小的羽毛散落一地。我用槍托捅了捅它,但它沒有任何動靜。我伸手將它翻過身,可它的腦袋卻毫無生機(jī)地耷拉到了一邊。我掩埋了鴿子,匆匆地趕回了家。我悄悄地將氣槍藏進(jìn)衣櫥,然后躲到了自己的房間。
當(dāng)父親晚上回家時,我強(qiáng)打著精神下了樓,這樣他就不會起疑心了。然而當(dāng)父親第一眼看到我時,我敢發(fā)誓他對所發(fā)生的事情已經(jīng)一清二楚了。他用胳膊摟住我,問道,“兒子,你今天過得咋樣呀?”“嗯,還行。”我告訴他。“就這些嗎?”我皺了皺眉頭,“只是還行嗎?”我感到我的臉燒得很。“是呀,就是還行。”我聳了聳肩,至少讓他能相信我一半。父親點了點頭,手依然搭在我的肩膀上。“好吧,”他說道,“快要到吃飯的時間了。咱們一起擺桌子去吧。”
我把碟子拿出來擺放時一聲未吭。每次轉(zhuǎn)過身,我都似乎感到父親的目光在盯著我。而每次我偷窺他時,他卻又似乎在小心地收叉子、擺酒杯。父親為我倒了點牛奶,然后坐下,我僅以一句“謝謝”敷衍了過去。望著他,我想如果我能熬過這頓晚飯,便算過關(guān)了。母親為我們每人遞上一塊土豆,并將餐桌中央的主菜掀開了蓋兒。那是一只雞。我差一點將飯吐到了盤子中。我瞧了一眼母親,又瞅了瞅父親。在淚水還沒有涌出眼眶之前,我把椅子往后一推,然后跑回了自己的房間。我將頭埋在枕頭里。這時,我感到父親正撫摸著我的后背。淚水慢慢地干了。我抬起了頭。父親什么也沒有講,只是把手放在我的身上,用一種溫柔的目光期待著我。
“我……,”我講不下去了,清了清嗓子,說道,“我今天殺死了一只小鳥。”“噢?”父親哼了一聲,而表情卻沒有任何變化。“是的,那是一只鴿子,落在電話線桿上,我射死了它。”父親停了一會兒,問道:“那是一種什么樣的感受呢?”“很……很不好受。”我答道,低下了頭。
“肯定是這樣的。這正是我告訴你不要射殺鳥類的原因之一。”我望著他:“你要狠狠地罰我嗎?”
“嗯,”他將手指壓在嘴唇上答道,“你把你的氣槍用在不該用的地方,又不聽我的話。你要做的就是永遠(yuǎn)記住,射殺一只可憐的小鳥之后的感覺是多么糟糕。”我的頭又一次垂了下去,可是父親卻用手指托起了我的下巴,直到我的目光與他的相遇。“不管怎樣,”他說道,“我想你會記住的。”然后他輕輕地拍了一下我的屁股:“現(xiàn)在咱們一塊去吃晚飯吧。”
當(dāng)我從床上滑下的時候,我并沒有領(lǐng)悟到父親的話該是多么地正確。是的,這一生,我會像記住許多其他事情一樣,永遠(yuǎn)牢記我曾射殺了那只小鳥。
NOTE 注釋:
1. smack [smAk] vt. 打中,擊中
2. pigeon [5pidVin] n. 鴿子
3. squeeze [skwi:z] v. 擠壓
4. obscure [Eb5skjuE] vt. 使不清楚
5. knot [nCt] n. (繩等的)結(jié)
6. tingle [5tiN^l] vi. 造成麻刺的感覺
7. shrug [FrQ^] v. 聳肩
8. burst into tears 突然大哭
9. fade [feid] vi. 減弱下去, 褪色, 消失