楼下（上）
Downstairs (part 1)
Name: ________________ Date: ________
小远到外婆家的第一天，就把外婆最重要的东西弄坏了。
那是七月。他坐了十几个小时的飞机，又坐了四个小时的汽车，才到了这个河边的小城。下车的时候，天很热，跟加拿大的夏天很不一样。外婆就站在车站门口，个子不高，头发已经花白了，手里拿着一把大伞。
“小远！”她一看见他，就笑了。
小远也笑了。在路上，他想好了一句：“外婆，我很想你。”可是到了嘴边，只出来两个字：“外婆……好。”
他在加拿大长大。妈妈在家很少说中文，所以他的中文是自己一点一点学的。他会说，可是说得很慢，每一句都要先在心里走一遍。
“好，好。”外婆看了他半天，“长这么高了。累了吧？走，回家。”
外婆的家在河边一个老房子的三楼。房子不大，两个房间，一张桌子，一个小电视。家里很干净，东西不多。从房间里就能看见河，河上有船，走得很慢很慢。楼下一直有声音：有人在打电话，有人在卖东西，有小孩在跑，还有人在叫：“吃饭了！”
小远站在那儿听了一会儿。很多他听不懂，可是他喜欢这些声音。在加拿大，他家门口总是很安静。
吃完晚饭，外婆从房间里拿出一个本子。本子是蓝色的，很旧，看得出用了很多年。
“这是什么？”小远问。
“我的老朋友。”外婆笑着说，“我在火车上工作了四十年。车到一个地方，我就下去走走，听听那儿的人怎么说话。听到一个好词，我就写下来。”
她打开本子。每一页上面都有一张小画：一个小店，一条鱼，一个车站，一碗面条，还有很多山。小画下面，是一个词，蓝色的字，写得很认真。
“一共二十页，二十个地方。”外婆说。
“我可以看看吗？”
“拿去看吧。慢慢看。”
小远拿着本子下了楼。河边有几张长椅，他想坐在那儿，一边看河，一边看本子。他看得很慢。有的字他认识，有的字不认识。他想：等我中文好了，我要把每一页都读懂。
就在这时候，天一下子变了。风很大，雨来了，而且不是小雨，是很大很大的雨。
小远把本子放在衣服里面，往家跑。路上都是水。到了楼门口，他脚下一滑，人坐在了地上，本子从衣服里飞了出去，飞进了门口的水里。
他马上把本子拿起来。可是已经晚了。
蓝色的字在水里慢慢地化开了，像眼泪一样。他打开第一页，第二页，第三页……每一页都一样。二十个词，一个也看不出来了。
只有那些小画还在。
小远站在雨里，很久没有动。
回到家，他把本子放在桌子上，没有看外婆。“外婆，对不起。都是我不好。我……”他想说很多，可是一句也说不出来。
外婆拿起本子，一页一页地看。看了很久。小远等着她生气。
可是外婆没有生气。她拿了一件干衣服给他，说：“先去洗个澡，别病了。”
洗完澡出来，本子已经放在电视旁边，一页一页地打开着。外婆坐在桌子旁边喝茶。
“外婆，那些词……都没了。”
“没有。”外婆说，“词不在本子里。”
“那在哪儿？”
外婆看着外面的雨，说：“在人的嘴里。”她想了想，又说：“我是去那些地方听来的。你也可以去听。听到了，就找回来了。”
小远不太明白。可是他看着外婆的脸，觉得她不只是想让他别难过。她是认真的。
Key words
| Word | Pinyin | Meaning |
|---|---|---|
| 重要 | zhòngyào | important |
| 汽车 | qìchē | car; automobile; motor vehicle |
| 夏天 | xiàtiān | summer |
| 头发 | tóufa | hair (on the head) |
| 伞 | sǎn | umbrella; parasol |
| 句 | jù | classifier for phrases and lines of speech or verse |
| 先 | xiān | first; in advance |
| 心里 | xīnli | in one's heart; in one's mind |
| 半天 | bàntiān | a long time; quite a while |
| 房子 | fángzi | house; building |
| 张 | zhāng | surname Zhang |
| 干净 | gānjìng | clean; neat |
English (for the teacher)
On Yuan’s very first day at his grandma’s, he ruined the thing that mattered most to her.
It was July. He had flown for more than ten hours, then ridden a bus for another four, before he finally reached this little town on a river. When he got off, the heat hit him; it was nothing like a Canadian summer. Grandma was standing right at the station door: not tall, her hair already grey, a big umbrella in her hand.
“Yuan!” The moment she saw him, she smiled.
Yuan smiled too. On the way, he had got one sentence ready: “Grandma, I’ve missed you so much.” But when it reached his lips, only two words came out: “Grandma… hi.”
He had grown up in Canada. Mum hardly ever spoke Chinese at home, so he had taught himself his Chinese, bit by bit. He could speak it, but slowly; every sentence had to walk through his head once first.
“Hi, hi.” Grandma looked at him for a long time. “Look how tall you’ve got. You must be tired. Come on, let’s go home.”
Grandma lived on the third floor of an old building by the river. It wasn’t big: two rooms, one table, one small TV. The flat was very clean, and there wasn’t much in it. From the room you could see the river, and the boats on it, moving very, very slowly. There was always noise from downstairs: someone on the phone, someone selling things, children running, and someone calling, “Dinner’s ready!”
Yuan stood there and listened for a while. He couldn’t understand much of it, but he liked those sounds. In Canada, it was always quiet outside his front door.
After dinner, Grandma brought a notebook out of her room. It was blue and very old; you could tell it had been used for many years.
“What’s this?” Yuan asked.
“My old friend.” Grandma smiled. “I worked on the trains for forty years. Whenever the train reached a place, I’d get off for a little walk and listen to how people there talked. When I heard a good word, I wrote it down.”
She opened the notebook. At the top of every page was a little drawing: a small shop, a fish, a station, a bowl of noodles, and lots of mountains. Under each drawing was one word, written carefully in blue ink.
“Twenty pages in all, twenty places.” Grandma said.
“Can I have a look?”
“Take it. Look at it slowly.”
Yuan took the notebook downstairs. There were a few long benches by the river; he wanted to sit there, watching the river and reading the notebook. He read very slowly. Some characters he knew, some he didn’t. He thought: when my Chinese is good, I’m going to understand every page.
Just then, the sky suddenly changed. The wind picked up and the rain came, and not a light rain either, but a huge, heavy downpour.
Yuan tucked the notebook inside his shirt and ran for home. The street was all water. At the door of the building his foot slipped, he landed sitting on the ground, and the notebook flew out of his shirt, straight into the puddle by the door.
He snatched it up at once. But it was already too late.
The blue words slowly spread in the water, like tears. He opened the first page, the second, the third… Every page was the same. Twenty words, and not one could be read any more.
Only the little drawings were still there.
Yuan stood in the rain and didn’t move for a long time.
Back home, he put the notebook on the table and didn’t look at Grandma. “Grandma, I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. I…” He wanted to say so much, but he couldn’t get a single sentence out.
Grandma picked up the notebook and looked through it page by page. She looked for a long time. Yuan waited for her to be angry.
But Grandma wasn’t angry. She handed him a dry shirt and said, “Go and have a shower first, don’t get ill.”
When he came out of the shower, the notebook was already by the TV, lying open page by page. Grandma sat at the table drinking tea.
“Grandma, those words… they’re all gone.”
“No, they’re not.” Grandma said, “The words aren’t in the notebook.”
“Then where are they?”
Grandma looked out at the rain and said, “In people’s mouths.” She thought for a moment, then added, “I went to those places and heard them. You can go and listen too. Once you hear them, you’ve found them again.”
Yuan didn’t quite understand. But as he looked at Grandma’s face, he felt she wasn’t only trying to stop him feeling bad. She meant it.