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ÍøÂç×ÊÔ´ Freekaoyan.com/2008-04-08

    UNIT 10

    TEXT

    I first heard this story a few years ago from a girl I had met in New York's Greenwich Village. Probably the story is one of those mysterious bits of folklore that reappear every few year£¬ to be told anew in one form or another. However£¬ I still like to think that it really did happen£¬ somewhere£¬ sometime.

    Going Home

    They were going to Fort Lauderdale ¡ª¡ª three boys and three girls ¡ª¡ª and when they boarded the bus£¬ they were carrying sandwiches and wine in paper bags£¬ dreaming of golden beaches and sea tides as the gray£¬ cold spring of Now York vanished behind them.

    As the bus passed through New Jersey£¬ they began to notice Vingo. He sat in front of them£¬ dressed in a plain£¬ ill-fitting suit£¬ never moving£¬ his dusty face masking his age. He kept chewing the inside of his lip a lot£¬ frozen into complete silence.

    Deep into the night£¬ outside Washington£¬ the bus pulled into Howard Johnson's£¬ and everybody got off except Vingo. He sat rooted in his seat£¬ and the young people began to wonder about him£¬ trying to imagine his life£º perhaps he was a sea captain£¬ a runaway from his wife£¬ an old soldier going home. When they went back to the bus£¬ one of the girls sat beside him and introduced herself.

    "We're going to Florida£¬" she said brightly. "I hear it's really beautiful."

    "It is£¬" he said quietly£¬ as if remembering something he had tried to forget.

    "Want some wine£¿" she said. He smiled and took a swig from the bottle. He thanked her and retreated again into his silence. After a while£¬ she went back to the others£¬ and Vingo nodded in sleep.

    In the morning£¬ they awoke outside another Howard Johnson's£¬ and this time Vingo went in. The girl insisted that he join them. He seemed very shy£¬ and ordered black coffee and smoked nervously as the young people chattered about sleeping on beaches. When they returned to the bus£¬ the girl sat with Vingo again£¬ and after a while£¬ slowly and painfully£¬ he began go tell his story. He had been in jail in New York for the past four years£¬ and now he was going home.

    "Are you married£¿"

    "I don't know."

    "You don't know£¿" she said.

    "Well£¬ when I was in jail I wrote to my wife£¬" he said. "I told her that I was going to be away a long time£¬ and that if she couldn't stand it£¬ if the kids kept askin' questions£¬ if it hurt her too much£¬ well£¬ she could jus forget me. I'd understand. Get a new guy £¬ I said ¡ª¡ª she's a wonderful woman£¬ really something ¡ª¡ª and forget about me. I told her she didn't have to write me. And she didn't. Not for three and a half years."

    "And you're going home now£¬ not knowing£¿"

    "Yeah£¬" he said shyly. "Well£¬ last week£¬ when I was sure the parole was coming through£¬ I wrote the again. We used to live in Brunswick£¬ just Before Jacksonville£¬ and there's a big oak tree just as you come into town£¬ I told her that if she didn't have a new guy and if she'd take me back£¬ she should put a yellow handkerchief on the tree£¬ and I'd get off and come home. If she didn't want me£¬ forget it ¡ª¡ª no handkerchief£¬ and I'd go on through."

    "Wow£¬" the girl exclaimed. "Wow."

    She told the others£¬ and soon all of them were in it£¬ caught up in the approach of Brunswick£¬ looking at the pictures Vingo showed them of his wife and three children ¡ª¡ª the woman handsome in a plain way£¬ the children still unformed in the much-handled snapshots.

    Now they were 20 miles from Brunswick£¬ and the young people took over window seats on the right side£¬ waiting for the approach of the great oak tree. Vingo stopped looking£¬ tightening his face£¬ as id fortifying himself against still another disappointment.

    Then Brunswick was 10 miles£¬ and then five. Then£¬ suddenly£¬ all of the young people were up out of their seats£¬ screaming and shouting and crying£¬ doing small dances of joy. All except Vingo.

    Vingo sat there stunned£¬ looking at the oak tree. It was covered with yellow handkerchiefs ¡ª¡ª 20 of them£¬ 30 of them£¬ maybe hundreds£¬ a tree that stood like a banner of welcome billowing in the wind. As the young people shouted£¬ the old con slowly rose from his seat and made his way to the front of the bus to go home.

    PHRASES & EXPRSSIONS

    dream of

    wish for ardently¡¡ÏòÍù£¬¿ÊÍû

    pull into

    enter£¬ arrive at¡¡£¨³µµÈ£©Ê»È룻µ½´ï

    take back

    agree to receive sb. whom one has dismissed¡¡ÔÊÐí¡­¡­»ØÀ´£¬½ÓÊÜ

    come through

    arrive as expected ÈçËùÔ¤Áϵص½À´

    be caught up in

    be very interested in ¶Ô¡­¡­ÈëÃÔ

    take over

    occupy Õ¼Ó㻽ӹÜ

    make one's way

    move along È¥£¬Ç°Íù


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