留言本
The goodbye book
Name: ________________ Date: ________
十二年。这条街上，谁夜里来了十二年？
我像电视里的侦探一样，拿了一张纸，把每个熟客都写了上去，再去问黄姐，一个一个排除。我甚至给每个人都写上了“作案时间”。
小梅来了三年，小田来了两年，都不对。饭团爷爷倒是来了十几年，可他连饭团上的字都看不清，怎么写？那就只剩一个人了。白师傅夜里开了二十年出租车，每天都从这条街经过。
我有了一个办法。我在收银台上放了一个本子，第一页写着：“‘一直在’，月底就关门了。给它写句话吧。”这样，谁的字我都能看见。
一点钟，饭团爷爷第一个来。我把本子和笔推过去。他伸直了胳膊，把本子拿得很远，眯着眼睛看了看，又推了回来：“眼睛不好，不写了。”我点点头。果然，他连本子上的字都看不清。
一点半，小田来了。她摘下手套，飞快地写了三个字：“马上到。”写完她才发现不对，又在后面加了一句：“我会想念你们的。”
两点，白师傅来了。他握笔的样子，像握着方向盘。他对着本子看了半天，最后写了四个字：“萝卜很软。”字写得歪歪扭扭，像四根萝卜躺在纸上。
不是他。我有点失望，又有点放心：白师傅要是能写出那么工整的字，那才奇怪呢。
白师傅见我一直盯着他的字，突然笑了：“你在找写纸条的人吧？”
“您知道是谁？”
“知道又怎么样？”他端起萝卜往外走，“人家写了十二年都没说，我说出来，就没意思了。”
两点五十，小梅在本子上写：“床位费，以后交给谁？”写完，她就趴在本子旁边睡着了。
那天三点，纸条照样来了：“办法不错，可惜我不写。九十分。”
我又生气又想笑。九十分，是我到现在拿过的最高分。
Key words
| Word | Pinyin | Meaning |
|---|---|---|
| 街 | jiē | street |
| 张 | zhāng | surname Zhang |
| 纸 | zhǐ | paper |
| 可 | kě | but; however |
| 经过 | jīngguò | to pass; to go through |
| 办法 | bànfǎ | way; method; means |
| 放 | fàng | to put; to place |
| 一直 | yìzhí | always; all along; continuously |
| 剩 | shèng | to remain; to be left over |
| 师傅 | shīfu | (polite) form of address for a driver or tradesman |
| 推 | tuī | to recommend (as in 推荐) |
| 胳膊 | gēbo | arm |
English (for the teacher)
Twelve years. Who on this street had been coming at night for twelve years?
Like a TV detective, I took a sheet of paper, wrote down every regular, then asked Sister Huang and ruled them out one by one. I even wrote each person’s “time of the crime”.
Xiaomei has been coming for three years and Xiaotian for two, so neither of them. Rice Ball Grandpa has been coming for more than ten, but he can’t even read the labels on his rice balls, so how could he write? That left just one person. Master Bai has driven a taxi at night for twenty years and comes down this street every night.
I had an idea. I put a notebook on the counter, and on the first page I wrote: “‘Always Here’ closes at the end of the month. Leave it a few words.” That way, I’d get to see everyone’s handwriting.
At one o’clock, Rice Ball Grandpa was the first to come. I pushed the notebook and pen across to him. He held the book out at arm’s length, squinted at it, then pushed it back: “Bad eyes. I won’t.” I nodded. Sure enough, he couldn’t even read what was in the notebook.
At half past one, Xiaotian came. She pulled off her gloves and quickly wrote three words: “On my way.” Then she realised it wasn’t right and added a line after it: “I’ll miss you all.”
At two, Master Bai came. He held the pen like a steering wheel. He looked at the notebook for ages and finally wrote four characters: “Radishes very soft.” The writing was crooked and wobbly, like four radishes lying on the page.
It wasn’t him. I was a bit disappointed and a bit relieved: it would have been strange if Master Bai could write that neatly.
Master Bai saw me staring at his writing and suddenly grinned: “You’re looking for the person who writes the notes, aren’t you?”
“You know who it is?”
“So what if I do?” He picked up his radishes and headed out. “They’ve been writing for twelve years and never said. If I tell you, where’s the fun in that?”
At ten to three, Xiaomei wrote in the notebook: “Who do I pay my bed fee to now?” Then she slumped down beside the notebook and fell asleep.
At three that night, the note came as usual: “Good idea, but I’m not writing in it. Ninety.”
I didn’t know whether to be cross or laugh. Ninety was the highest mark I’d had so far.