金尼斯·邁克爾·比奇/Jennings Michael Birch
Life without a friend is death without a witness.
—Spanish proverb
Before I even finished dialing, I somehow knew I’d made a mistake.The phone rang once, twice—then someone picked it up.
“You got the wrong number!”a husky male voice snapped before the line went dead.Mystified, I dialed again.
“I said you got the wrong number!”came the voice.Once more the phone clicked in my ear.
How could he possibly know I had a wrong number? At that time, I worked for the New York City Police Department.A cop is trained to be curious—and concerned.So I dialed a third time.
“Hey, c’mon,”the man said.“Is this you again?”
“Yeah, it’s me,”I answered.“I was wondering how you knew I had the wrong number before I even said anything?”
“You figure it out!”The phoned slammed down.
I sat there awhile, the receiver hanging loosely in my fingers.I called the man back.
“Did you figure it out yet?”he asked.
“The only thing I can think of is ...nobody ever calls you.”
“You got it!”The phone went dead for the fourth time.Chuckling, I dialed the man back.
“What do you want now?”he asked.
“I thought I’d call ...just to say hello.”
“Hello? Why?”
“Well, if nobody ever calls you, I thought maybe I should.”
“Okay.Hello.Who is this?”
At last.I had got through.Now he was curious.I told him who I was and asked who he was.
“My name is Adolf Meth.I’m 88 years old, and I haven’t had this many wrong numbers in one day in 20 years!”We both laughed.
We talked for 10 minutes.Adolf had no family, no friends.Everyone he had been close to had died.Then we discovered we had something in common: he’d worked for the New York City Police Department for nearly 40 years.Telling me about his days there as an elevator operator, he seemed interesting, even friendly.I asked if I could call him again.
“Why would you wanna do that?”he asked, surprised.
“Well, maybe we could be phone friends.You know, like pen pals.”
He hesitated.“I wouldn’t mind...having a friend again.”His voice sounded a little tentative.
I called Adolf the following afternoon and several days later.Easy to talk with, he related his memories of World War I and II, the Hindenburg disaster and other historical events.He was fascinating.I gave him my home and office numbers so he could call me.He did—almost every day.
I was not just being kind to a lonely man.Talking to Adolf was important to me, because I, too, had a big gap in my life.Raised in orphanages and foster homes, I never had a father.Gradually, Adolf took on a kind of fatherly importance to me.I talked about my job and college courses, which I attended at night.
Adolf warmed to the role of counselor.While discussing a disagreement I’d had with a supervisor, I told my new friend,“I think I’ve had it with him.”
“What’s the rush?”Adolf cautioned.“Let things cool down.When you get as old as I am, you find out that time takes care of a lot.If things get worse, then you can talk to him.”
There was a long silence.“You know,”he said softly,“I am talking to you just the way I’d talk to a boy of my own.I always wanted a family—and children.You’re too young to know how that feels.”
No, I wasn’t.I’d always wanted a family—and a father.But I didn’t say anything, afraid I wouldn’t be able to hold back the hurt I’d felt for so long.
One evening, Adolf mentioned his 89th birthday was coming up.After buying a piece of fiberboard, I designed a 2"×5" greeting card with a cake and 89 candles on it.I asked all the cops and my Office Commissioner to sign it.I gathered nearly a hundred signatures.Adolf would get a kick out of this, I knew.
We’d been talking on the phone for four months now, and I thought this would be a good time to meet face to face.So I decided to deliver the card by hand.
I didn’t tell Adolf I was coming; I just drove to his address one morning and parked the car up the street from his apartment house.A postman was sorting mail in the hallway when I entered the building.He nodded as I checked the mailboxes for Adolf’s name.There it was.Apartment 1H, some 20 feet from where I stood.
My heart pounded with excitement.Would we have the same chemistry in person that we had on the phone? I felt the first stab of doubt.Maybe he would reject me the way my father rejected me when he went out of my life.I tapped on Adolf’s door.When there was no answer, I knocked harder.
The postman looked up from his sorting.“No one’s there,”he said.
“Yeah,”I said, feeling a little foolish.“If he answered his door the way he answers his phone, this may take all day.”
“Are you a relative or something?”
“No, just a friend.”
“I’m really sorry,”he said quietly,“but Mr.Meth died the day before yesterday.”
Died? Adolf? For a moment, I couldn’t answer.I stood there in shock and disbelief.Then, pulling myself together, I thanked the postman and stepped into the late-morning sun.I walked toward the car, misty-eyed.
Then, rounding the corner, I saw a church, and a line from the Old Testament leaped into my mind: A friend loveth at all times.And especially in death, I realized.This brought a moment of recognition.Often it takes some sudden and sad turn of events to awaken us to the beauty of a special presence in our lives.Now, for the first time, I sensed how very close Adolf and I had become.It has been easy, and I knew this would make it even easier the next time, with my next close friend.Slowly, I felt a warmth surging through me.I heard Adolf’s growly voice shouting,“Wrong number!”Then I heard him asking why I wanted to call again.
“Because you mattered, Adolf,”I said aloud to no one.“Because I was your friend.”
I placed the unopened birthday card on the back seat of my car and got behind the wheel.Before starting the engine, I looked over my shoulder.“Adolf,”I whispered.“I didn’t get the wrong number at all.I got you.”
沒有朋友的人生就如同沒有見證的死亡。
——西班牙諺語
沒撥完號碼，我就發現自己撥錯了。電話鈴響了一聲，兩聲——然後有人接起來了。“你打錯了！”一個沙啞的男聲說道。之後是電話掛斷的聲音。我很迷惑，於是又撥了過去。
“我說你打錯電話了！”那個聲音回答道。電話又一次在我的耳邊掛斷。
他怎麽知道我打錯了？當時，我正在紐約市警署工作。一個警察通常被訓練地充滿警惕性和好奇心。於是我第三次撥了那個電話。
“嗨，夥計，”那個人說，“又是你吧？”
“是的，又是我，”我回答說，“我很奇怪，我還沒說話，你怎麽就知道我打錯了呢？”
“你自己想去吧！”電話猛地被掛斷了。
我坐了一會兒，漫不經心地拿著電話筒，又把電話打了過去。
“你弄明白了嗎？”他問。
“我唯一能想到的原因就是……從來沒人給你打過電話。”
“你說對了！”電話第四次被掛斷。我咯咯地笑著，又撥通了那個電話。
“你現在還想幹什麽？”他問。
“我覺得我應該打個電話……跟你問個好。”
“問好？為什麽？”
“因為如果從來沒人給你打過電話，我想或許我應該這麽做。”
“好吧。你好，你是誰？”
終於，我打通了這個電話。現在他充滿了好奇。我告訴他我是誰並問他是誰。
“我叫阿道夫·梅斯，今年88歲。20年來，我還沒在一天內接過這麽多打錯的電話呢！”我們都笑了。
我們聊了十分鍾。阿道夫沒有家庭，也沒有朋友。曾經和他關係親密的人都已離開了人世。後來發現，我們有一個共同點：他在紐約市警署工作了將近40年。他告訴我他當時是電梯操作員。他似乎很有趣，也很友好。我問是否可以再給他打電話。
他很詫異地問：“你為什麽還想打電話呢？”
“因為，我們可以成為電話裏的朋友。你知道的，就像筆友一樣。”
他猶豫了一下。“我不介意……再有一個朋友。”他試探性地說。
次日下午和幾天後，我又給阿道夫打了電話。他很健談，跟我講了他關於一戰和二戰的一些記憶、興登堡災難和其他的曆史事件。他很吸引人。我把家裏及辦公室的電話都給了他，以便於他可以給我打電話。他這樣做了——幾乎每天都打。
我並不隻是在對一個孤獨的人表達善意。與阿道夫聊天對我來說也很重要。因為在我的生命中，也有一大片空白。我從小在孤兒院長大，後來被一個家庭收養，從未有過父親。漸漸地，阿道夫對我的重要性就像父親一樣。我跟他講我的工作和夜大的課程。阿道夫也漸漸擔當起顧問的角色。當討論到我和上司的意見不同時，我對我的新朋友說：“我想應該和他談一談。”“幹嗎這麽著急？”阿道夫提醒我說，“先讓事情冷靜一下。當你到我這個年紀時，就會發現時間可以解決一切。如果事情越來越糟糕，你再去跟他談。”沉默了很長時間後，他溫柔地說：“你知道嗎，我跟你說話就像是在跟我自己的孩子說話一樣。我一直想有一個家庭，有些孩子。你還年輕，還無法理解這種感受。”
不，不是的。我一直都想有個家，有個父親。但我什麽也沒說，我害怕無法抑製住心中壓抑已久的傷痛。
一天晚上，阿道夫提到他89歲的生日就要到了。我買了一塊纖維板，將它設計成一個長5英寸、寬2英寸的生日卡，並在上麵畫上了插著89支蠟燭的生日蛋糕。我請所有的同事及辦公室的頂頭上司在上麵簽名，收集了將近100個簽名。我相信，阿道夫肯定會喜歡的。
在電話中，我們已經聊了4個月了，我覺得這是個見麵的好機會。因此我決定親自把賀卡送去。
我沒有告訴阿道夫我要來。一天早上，我直接開車去了他住的地方，然後把車停在他公寓前的街上。我走進那座樓時，一個郵遞員正在走廊裏分郵件。我找阿道夫的郵箱，他對我點了點頭。一樓H座就在那兒，離我站的地方不過20英尺。
我激動地心跳不已。我們還會有在電話中的那種感覺嗎？這種猜疑讓我的心有些刺痛感。也許他會拒絕我，就像當年父親拋棄我一樣，走出我的生活。我敲了敲阿道夫的門。沒有人回答，我又用力敲了敲。
整理郵件的郵遞員抬起頭，說：“那裏沒人。”
“是的，”我自覺有些愚蠢地說，“如果他像接電話那樣應門的話，那可能得敲上一天。”
“你是他的親戚嗎？”
“不是，隻是一個朋友。”
“我很難過，”他平靜地說道，“梅斯先生前天過世了。”
去世了？阿道夫？那一刻，我無言以對。我站在那裏，震驚又懷疑。之後我回過神來，謝過郵遞員，走進已近正午的陽光裏。我朝車子走去，雙眼已經濕潤。
後來，繞過街角，我看到了一座教堂，《舊約全書》中的一行字映入我的腦海：朋友永遠相愛。我意識到特別是在死後。這讓我有了些許理解。生命中總會有一些意外悲傷的變化，提醒我們生命中特別存在的美麗。現在，我第一次感覺到我和阿道夫是多麽的親密。與他親近是這樣容易，我知道我和下一個朋友會更容易走近。漸漸地，我感到一股暖流穿過全身。我聽到阿道夫用緩慢的聲音喊道：“打錯了！”接著，又聽到他問我為什麽還想打電話。
“因為你對我很重要，阿道夫，”我對著空氣大聲說，“因為我是你的朋友。”
我坐回駕駛座，把沒有打開的生日賀卡放到了汽車後座。發動車子之前，我回頭看了看，輕聲說道：“阿道夫，我沒有打錯電話，我找的就是你。”
(1) hesitate?a.warn
(2) tentativeb.hesitant
(3) cautionc.to hold back in doubt
(4) whisperd.to speak softly
Write
TRUEif the statement agrees with the information
FALSEif the statement contradicts the information
_______ (1) I knew Adolf because of dialing the wrong number.
_______ (2) Adolf didn’t have a true friend the whole life.
1.I’d always wanted a family—and a father.But I didn’t say anything, afraid I wouldn’t be able to _______ the hurt I’d felt for so long.
我一直都想有個家，有個父親。但我什麽也沒說，我害怕無法抑製住心中壓抑已久的傷痛。
2.I thanked the postman and _______ the late-morning sun.I walked toward the car, misty-eyed.
我回過神來，謝過郵遞員，走進已近正午的陽光裏。我朝車子走去，雙眼已經濕潤。
3.Often it takes some sudden and sad turn of events to _______ the beauty of a special presence in our lives.
生命中總會有一些意外悲傷的變化，提醒我們生命中特別存在的美麗。