曉雯 發問時間: 社會與文化語言 · 1 0 年前

Reunion可以幫我翻譯嗎?很急

The last time I saw my father was in Grand Central Station. I was going from my grandmother's in the Adirondacks to a cottage on the Cape that my mother had rented, and I wrote my father that I would be in New York between trains for an hour and a half, and asked if we could have lunch together. His secretary wrote to say that he would meet me at the information booth at noon, and at twelve o'clock sharp I saw him comingthrough the crowd. He was a stranger to me--my mother divorced him three years ago and I hadn't been with him since--but as soon as I saw him I felt that he was my father, my flesh and blood, my future and my doom. I knew that when I was grown I would be something like him; I would have to plan my campaigns within his limitations. He was a big, good-looking man, and I was terribly happy to see him again. He struck me on the back and shook my hand. "Hi, Charlie," he said. " Hi, boy. I'd like to take you up to my club, but it's in the Sixties, and if you have to catch an early train I guess we'd better get something to eat around here." He put his arm around me, and I smelled my father the way my mother sniffs a rose. It was a rich compound of whiskey, after-shave lotion, shoe polish, woolens, and the rankness of a mature male. I hoped that someone would see us together. I wished that we could be photographed. I wanted some record of our having been together.

We went out of the station and up a side street to a restaurant. It was still early, and the place was empty. The bartender was quarreling with a delivery boy, and there was one very old waiter in a red coat down by the kitchen door. We sat down, and my father hailed the waiter in a loud voice. "Kellner!" he shouted. "Garcon!Cameriere!You!" His boisterousness in the empty restaurant seemed out of place. "Could we have a little service here!" he shouted. "Chop-chop." Then he clapped his hands. This caught the waiter's attention, and he shuffled over to our table.

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  • 老二
    Lv 4
    1 0 年前
    最佳解答

    我最後一次見到父親是在大中央車站。當時我正要從阿迪隆代克市的祖母家前往母親在坎貝角的租屋處,於是我寫信給父親說我將在紐約轉火車時停留一個半小時,並問他中午能否一起用餐。他的秘書寫來說他將於中午在詢問亭和我碰面,而中午十二點整我看到他穿過人群而來。我對他感到陌生──三年前母親和他離婚後我就沒再見過他,但當我一看見他我立刻覺得他是我父親、骨肉之情、我的未來和末日。我知道我長大後一定會像他,我將會在他的約束下過活。他是個高大英俊的男人,再次看見他讓我高興極了。他拍了我的背並和我握手:『嗨,查理』他說,『嗨,孩子,我原想帶你去我的俱樂部,但那地方在六十幾街,如果你要搭早點的火車,我們最好還是在附近吃。』他摟著我,而我用母親聞玫瑰花的方式聞他的味道,那是種濃郁的威士忌、刮鬍水、鞋蠟、羊毛和成熟男性體味的綜合體。我很希望別人看見我們在一起,我真想和他合照,我要留下和他在一起的紀錄。

    我們走出車站沿著邊街來到一家餐廳,時候尙早,店內沒有其他客人,酒保正和一個送貨的男孩吵架,廚房門邊站著一個穿紅色外套的老服務生。我們坐下來,父親高聲呼叫那服務生:『小二,』他喊道,『侍者!跑堂的!你!』他的喧鬧聲在空盪的餐廳裡顯得極不協調,『可以給我們服務一下嗎?』他大叫。『喂喂,』然後他拍拍手,這下引起服務生的注意,於是他朝我們的桌子蹣跚走來。

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