8.
Nî-hòe sī góa ê nāu-cheng
"M̄-sī,
ū lâng koh khah gâu."
"Hó
lah," gín-á kóng. "Ū chē-chē hó ê thó-hái-lâng
kap chi̍t kóa liáu-put-khí ê. M̄-koh, lí siōng-gâu."
"To-siā
lah. Thiaⁿ tio̍h chiâⁿ hoaⁿ-hí. M̄-thang tú tio̍h lī-hāi
ê hî, soah chèng-bêng lán kóng ê m̄-tioh."
"Lí
nā chhiūⁿ lí kóng ê hiah ióng, tō bô hit chióng lī-hāi ê
hî."
"Góa
khó-lêng bô góa siūⁿ ê hiah ióng," lāu lâng kóng.
"M̄-koh góa ū chi̍t kóa phiat-pō͘, góa mā ū koat-sim."
"Lí
taⁿ hó khì khùn ah, bîn-á chá-khí chiah ē ū cheng-sîn.
Góa ē the̍h piān-tong a̍p-á tńg Terrace."
"Àm-an
loh. Bîn-á chá-khí góa kiò lí."
"Lí
sī góa ê nāu-cheng-á," gín-á kóng.
"Nî-hòe sī góa ê nāu-cheng," lāu lâng kóng. "Lāu lâng ná
ē hiah chá chhéⁿ? Sī siūⁿ boeh ji̍t khah tn̂g sioh?"
"Góa
m̄-chai," gín-á kóng. "Góa kan-ta chai, gín-á khùn
kah chin òaⁿ koh oh chhéⁿ."
"Góa
ē-kì-tit," lāu lâng kóng. "Góa ē chún-sî kiò-chhéⁿ
lí."
"Góa
bô ài hō͘ i kiò-chhéⁿ góa. Án-ne bē-su góa khah su i."
"Góa
chai."
"Lí
mā hó-hó khùn, lāu--ê."
Gín-á
kiâⁿ chhut-khì. In tú-chiah tī toh-téng chia̍h-pn̄g ê sî
bô tiám-teng, taⁿ lāu lâng mā tī o͘-àm tiong thǹg
tn̂g-khò͘, chiūⁿ-chhn̂g. I kā tn̂g-khò͘ kńg khí-lâi chò
chím-thâu, sūn-sòa kā sin-bûn chiⁿ ji̍p-khì. I khiú thán-á
kā ka-tī pau khí-lâi, tó lo̍h khùn tī lēng-gōa chi̍t kóa
kū sin-bûn téng-bīn, kū sin-bûn ē-bīn khàm tio̍h bîn-chhn̂g
keng-á.
Chin
kín i tō khùn-khì, i bāng tio̍h sè-hàn sî tī Afrika, kap
tn̂g-tn̂g ê kim-sek hái-thoaⁿ kap pe̍h-sek hái-thoaⁿ,
pe̍h-kah ē chha̍k-ba̍k, iáu ū koân-koân ê hái-kak hām
koân-tōa, chhiah-sek ê soaⁿ-khûn. Kīn-lâi, ta̍k àm i lóng
tī bāng ni̍h tòa tī hit ê hái-hōaⁿ, thiaⁿ tio̍h hái-éng
chhia-péng ê siaⁿ, khòaⁿ tio̍h chāi-tē ê chûn kiâⁿ-kòe.
Khùn ê sî, i phīⁿ tio̍h kah-pan téng tama-ka kap iûⁿ-môa
ê bī; chheng-chá, i ē phīⁿ tio̍h lio̍k-tē ê hong chhoe lâi
ê Afrika ê bī.
Thong-siông
i nā phīⁿ tio̍h lio̍k-tē ê hong, i tō chhéⁿ lâi, chhēng
hó, khì kiò chhéⁿ gín-á. M̄-koh ē-àm ê lio̍k-tē ê bī
chin chá lâi, i chai, bāng tú khai-sí, tō kè-sio̍k bāng, khì
khòaⁿ phû-chhut hái-bīn ê tó-sū ê pe̍h-sek soaⁿ-chiam, i
koh bāng tio̍h Canary /ka.ná.ri/ Kûn-tó ê chióng-chióng
káng-kháu kap hē-tiāⁿ khu.
I
bô koh bāng tio̍h hong-hō͘, bô cha-bó͘, bô tōa sū-kiāⁿ,
bô tōa bóe hî, bô sio-phah, bô pí khùi-la̍t, bô in
khan-chhiú. Kīn-lâi i kan-ta bāng tio̍h só͘-chāi kap tī
hái-thoaⁿ ê sai-á. In ná niau-á-kiáⁿ tī thiⁿ ê phú-kng ni̍h kún-sńg, i ài in tō ná i ài hit ê cha-po͘ gín-á. I lóng
m̄-bat bîn-bāng tioh hit ê gín-á. Taⁿ, i chhéⁿ lah, khòaⁿ
mn̂g gōa-kháu ê goe̍h, the̍h tn̂g-khò͘ hàiⁿ-khui, chhēng
khí-lâi. I tī liâu-á gōa-kháu soān-jiō, jiân-āu kiâⁿ-lō͘
peh-kiā khì kiò gín-á. Chheng-chá ê liâng-léng hāi i khí
ka-lún-sún. M̄-koh i chai, chùn chi̍t-ē tō bē kôaⁿ lah,
liâm-mi i tō boeh kò-chûn lah.
--
8.
年歲是我
ê
鬧鐘
"毋是, 有人閣較 gâu."
"好 lah," 囡仔講.
"有濟濟好 ê 討海人 kap 一寡了不起 ê. 毋過,
to̍k-to̍k 你
siōng-gâu."
"多謝 lah. 聽著誠歡喜. 毋通拄著厲害 ê 魚, 煞證明咱講 ê 毋著."
"你
nā
像你講 ê hiah
勇,
tō 無彼種厲害 ê 魚."
"我可能無我想 ê hiah 勇," 老人講.
"毋過我有一寡撇步, 我 mā 有決心."
"你今好去睏 ah, 明仔早起才會有精神. 我會提便當盒仔轉 Terrace."
"暗安 loh. 明仔早起我叫你."
"你是我 ê 鬧鐘仔," 囡仔講.
"年歲是我 ê 鬧鐘," 老人講.
"老人那會
hiah
早醒? 是想欲日較長 sioh?"
"我毋知," 囡仔講.
"我干焦知, 囡仔睏甲真晏 koh
oh 醒."
"我會記得," 老人講.
"我會準時叫醒你."
"我無愛予伊叫醒我.
Án-ne 袂輸我較輸伊."
"我知."
"你 mā 好好睏, 老 ê."
囡仔行出去.
In 拄才 tī 桌頂食飯 ê 時無點燈, 今老人 mā
tī 烏暗中褪長褲, 上床. 伊 kā 長褲捲起來做枕頭, 順紲 kā 新聞 chiⁿ 入去. 伊搝毯仔 kā 家己包起來, 倒落睏 tī
另外一寡舊新聞頂面,
舊新聞下面崁著眠床弓仔.
真緊伊 tō 睏去, 伊夢著細漢時 tī
Afrika,
kap 長長 ê 金色海灘 kap 白色海灘, 白甲會鑿目, 猶有懸懸 ê 海角和懸大, 赤色 ê 山群. 近來, 逐暗伊攏 tī 夢 ni̍h tòa tī 彼个海岸, 聽著海湧 chhia-péng
ê 聲, 看著在地 ê 船行過. 睏 ê 時, 伊鼻著甲板頂
tama
膠
kap
楊麻
ê
味;
清早,
伊會鼻著陸地 ê 風吹來 ê Afrika
ê 味.
通常伊若鼻著陸地 ê 風, 伊 tō 醒來, 穿好, 去叫醒囡仔. 毋過下暗 ê 陸地 ê 味真早來, 伊知, 夢拄開始,
tō 繼續夢, 去看浮出海面 ê 島嶼 ê 白色山尖, 伊 koh 夢著 Canary
/ka.ná.ri/ 群島 ê 種種港口 kap 下錠區.
伊無 koh 夢著風雨, 無查某, 無大事件, 無大尾魚, 無相拍, 無比氣力, 無 in 牽手. 近來伊干焦夢著所在 kap
tī 海灘 ê 獅仔.
In ná 貓仔囝 tī 天 ê 殕光 ni̍h 滾耍, 伊愛 in
tō ná 伊愛彼个查埔囡仔. 伊攏毋
bat
眠夢著彼个囡仔. 今, 伊醒 lah, 看門外口 ê 月, 提長褲幌開, 穿起來. 伊 tī 寮仔外口漩尿, 然後行路 peh 崎去叫囡仔. 清早 ê 涼冷害伊起 ka-lún-sún. 毋過伊知, 顫一下 tō 袂寒 lah,
liâm-mi 伊 tō 欲划船 lah.
--
8.
“No.
I know others better.”
“Que
Va,” the boy said. “There are many good fishermen and some great
ones. But there is only you.”
“Thank
you. You make me happy. I hope no fish will come along so great that
he will prove us wrong.”
“There
is no such fish if you are still strong as you say.”
“I
may not be as strong as I think,” the old man said. “But I know
many tricks and I have
resolution.”
“You
ought to go to bed now so that you will be fresh in the morning. I
will take the things back to the Terrace.”
“Good
night then. I will wake you in the morning.”
“You’re
my alarm clock,” the boy said.
“Age
is my alarm clock,” the old man said. “Why do old men wake so
early? Is it to have one longer day?”
“I
don’t know,” the boy said. “All I know is that young boys sleep
late and hard.”
“I
can remember it,” the old man said. “I’ll waken you in time.”
“I
do not like for him to waken me. It is as though I were inferior.”
“I
know.”
“Sleep
well old man.”
The
boy went out. They had eaten with no light on the table and the old
man took off his trousers and went to bed in the dark. He rolled his
trousers up to make a pillow, putting the newspaper inside them. He
rolled himself in the blanket and slept on the other old newspapers
that covered the springs of the bed.
He
was asleep in a short time and he dreamed of Africa when he was a boy
and the long golden beaches and the white beaches, so white they hurt
your eyes, and the high capes and the great brown mountains. He lived
along that coast now every night and in his dreams he heard the surf
roar and saw the native boats come riding through it. He smelled the
tar and oakum of the deck as he slept and he smelled the smell of
Africa that the land breeze brought at morning.
Usually
when he smelled the land breeze he woke up and dressed to go and wake
the boy. But tonight the smell of the land breeze came very early and
he knew it was too early in his dream and went on dreaming to see the
white peaks of the Islands rising from the sea and then he dreamed of
the different harbours and roadsteads of the Canary Islands.
He
no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences,
nor of great fish, nor fights, nor contests of strength, nor of his
wife. He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach.
They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved
the boy. He never dreamed about the boy. He simply woke, looked out
the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on.
He urinated outside the shack and then went up the road to wake the
boy. He was shivering with the morning cold. But he knew he would
shiver himself warm and that soon he would be rowing.
--
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