It was a family adventure trip. My wife, Judith, our two-year-old daughter, Leila, and I had rented a small camper and were traveling through Baja California. The day before our return to San Diego, we parked the camper near a beach for one last night in nature.
In the middle of the night I was awakened by Judith poking me with her elbow and yelling at me to get up. My first impressions were of nosie and banging. Fairly disoriented, I jumped down out of our little loft-bed, and standing stark naked, faced the windshield.
What I saw woke me quickly out of my half-dazed state. The van was surrounded by masked men banging on the windows.
I dove for the driver\'s seat and turned the ignition. The camper had started perfectly at least 50 times that trip. Now it tried to turn over, sputtered a few times, and died. There was the sound of breaking glass, and a hand reached in through the driver\'s side window. I smashed the hand.
My hand was bleeding from the broken glass. I figured I had one more chance to start the car. Having played hero successfully a thousand times in fantasy, I never doubted I would do it. I turned the key. The engine sputtered to life... and died. Then someone jammed a rifle into my throat. I remember this thought:“ You mean I don\'t save the family?” I was really quite surprised.
One of the bandits, who spoke a little English, was yelling, “ Money! Money!” The rifle still at my throat, I reached under the driver\'s seat and handed one of them my wallet through the broken window. I was hoping this was the end of it.
It wasn\'t.
Releasing the latch through the broken window, they opened the door. The man with the rifle pushed me hard and sent me sprawling onto the floor. They entered the camper.
They looked remarkably like Mexican bandits from a grade-B movie. They had standard-issue bandannas over their faces. There were four: the one with the rifle, one with a rusty carving knife, one with a huge machete and one unarmed. I was half surprised they weren\'t wearing bulletfilled bandoleers slung over the shoulders. Maybe their weapons were really props from Central Casting.
While one man held me to the floor with the rifle against my neck, the bandits started tearing the camper apart, yelling in Spanish.
While one aspect of me was busy fantasizing horrendous scenes of rape and murder, a clear, quiet space opened inside that was intrigued by this new possibility. These too are children of God. How many times have I declared that my purpose is to serve others? Well, here they are!
I looked at the bandits from this more heartfelt awareness. “ Wait a minute! These aren\'t bandits! They\'re kids!”
I turned to the young man who spoke English and said, “ Hey, you\'re missing some of the best stuff! Under that pile over there is a very nice camera.”
He gave me a peculiar look.
He yellled something in Spanish to one of the other young men, who found the camera buried where I had pointed.
The next thing we knew, it was show and tell. “ Nice guitar!” I demonstrated a few chords. “ Who plays? Here, do you want it? ...Sony Walkman, headsets, batteries, some tapes! Who wants it?” I thought about the Native American give away of the giveaway. I began to enjoy the feeling of gifting them. I tried to think which of our possessions they would most enjoy.
Then I found myself spontaneously asking, “ Would you like something to eat?” The English-speaking young man translated. Four pairs of incredulous eyes looked at me as I pro ceeded to open the refrigerator. Now we had a cultural problem. I saw a nice red Delicious apple. “ Okay, that\'s normal food.” I took out the apple and held it out toward the man with the machete. This felt like an important moment. In most cultures, the sharing of food is a kind of communion, an acknowledgment of friendship, or declaration of peace. As I continued to hold out the apple toward him, I sensed him struggling for a moment, in his own way letting go of the roles in which we had met. For an instant he smiled, then took hold of the apple.
Well, we had given presents and shared food. Now the English-speaking man said we were going for a ride. Fear came back. I didn\'t know where they were taking us. If they were going to kill us, this was as good a place as any. They didn\'t seem competent enough to pull off a kidnapping and ransom. I suggested that they take the car and leave us here. We were in the middle of nowhere, but anything seemed better than going driving with them. We exchanged views on this several times, then all of a sudden they were back to threatening me with weapons. I got it. As soon as Itched back into fear mode, they became bandits again. “ Okay. Let\'s go!”
I climbed in the back next to Judith and Leila, and away we went. I had my pants on now, which further improved my state of mind. I flipped in and out of realities, at some moments, just driving through the desert. Then, seeing lights, I planned how I might open the door and push Judith and Leila out if we slowed down near people.
As we drove along, I asked myself, “ What would I do if I were driving along with my honored guests?” Sing, of course!
Judith, Leila and I started singing:
Listen, listen, listen to my heart\'s song.
Listen, listen, listen to my heart\'s song.
I will never forget you, I will never forsake you.
I will never forget you, I will never forsake you.
Leila kept smiling her outrageously cute smile. She\'d catch the eye of one or another of the young men. Several times I saw them trying to keep it straight. (“ Come on kid, cut it out. I\'m trying to be a bandit.”) Then they\'d smile despite themselves.
They seemed to like the singing. We did. Then I realized I was failing to be a good host. They didn\'t know any of the songs. I thought for a moment. Inspiration!
Guantanamera, guajira, guantanamera.
Guantanamera...
That did it. They began singing along. The energy came together. No more bandits and victims. Feet were tapping and spirits lifted as we sailed through the desert night.
We passed through a village without a chance for my great rescue attempt. Then the lights faded away as we entered some remote, hilly country. We pulled down a dark, dirt road, and the RV came to a halt. Judith and I looked at each other as we both had the thought that they were going to kill us. We rested deeply in each others\' eyes.
Then they opened the door and began to get out. Evidently, they lived far from the scene of the robbery. They had driven themselves home!
Several of them said “ Adios” as they exited. Finally, there was just my English-speaking friend. In halting English he struggled to communicate. “ Please forgive us. My hombres and me, we are poor people. Our fathers are poor. This is what we do for making the money. I\'m sorry. We didn\'t know it was you. You are such a good man. And your wife and child, so nice.”
He apologized again and again. “ You are good people. Please do not think bad of us. I hope this won\'t ruin your vacation. ”
Then he reached into his pocket and took out my wallet. “ Here”. He handed me back my MasterCard. “ We can\'t really use this. Better you take it.” He also gave me my driver\'s license. As one of his hombres stared in amazement, he peeled off a few Mexican bills. “ Here, for the gasoline.”
I was at least as amazed as his fellow bandits. He\'s giving my money back to me! He wants to make things right between us.
Then he took my hand. He looked into my eyes, and the veils were gone between us. Just for a moment, we rested in that place. Then he said, “ Adios” : “ with God.”
Our bandit guests disappeared into the night. Then my family held each other and cried.
[参考译文]那是一次家庭探险之旅。我和妻子朱迪丝以及我们2岁的女儿莱拉租了一辆小型野营车,在加利福利亚州的巴加旅行。在我们返回圣迭戈的前一天,我们在海滨附近停下车,度过我们在大自然中的最后一晚。
夜半时分,朱迪丝用肘推醒了我,并大声叫我起床。我的最初感觉就是喧哗声和撞击声。几乎是糊里糊涂地,我从小高架床上跳了下来,光着身子,甚至都没想到穿上衣服,面向挡风玻璃站着。
我所看到的一切很快使我从半睡眠的状态中清醒过来。车子被一群正在猛烈敲打车窗的蒙面人团团围住了。
我冲向司机座,开动引擎。野营车在那次旅途中已经顺利启动至少50次了。现在它再次启动,响了几声,却熄火了。这时传来了玻璃破碎的声音,一只手从司机座边的窗户伸了进来。我向那只手猛击。
我的手碰到了碎玻璃上,血流了出来。我想我还有机会启动汽车。曾经在想象中千百次成功地扮演了英雄的角色,我从不怀疑我能成功。我转动钥匙。引擎轰鸣着启动……又熄灭了。接着有人用枪顶着我的喉咙。我记得当时的想法是:“你认为我不能救我的家人吗?”我确实很惊讶。
其中有个会说一点英语的匪徒,大声叫着:“钱!钱!”枪仍然顶着我的喉咙,我将手伸进司机座下面,取出我的钱包,从破窗口递给了其中一个匪徒。我希望这件事就到此结束。
但并非如此。
他们从破窗户里伸手进来拉开了车闩,打开了门。拿枪的那个人猛力地推我,将我推倒在地。他们进了野营车。
他们看起来非常像B级电影中的墨西哥匪徒。脸上蒙普通的大花巾。共有4个人:一个带着枪,一个拿着锈迹斑斑的切肉刀,一个拿着一把大砍刀,一个没带武器。我有点奇怪他们没有在肩膀上挎着子弹带。也许他们的武器其实不过是道具。
一个人用枪顶着我的脖子,我被迫躺在地上。这些强盗们开始在车上到处乱翻,并不时用西班牙语大声叫喊着。
当我脑海里一方面不停地想象着可怕的强奸和谋杀景象,一个新想法却在另一面打开了一片宁静而清新的天地。他们也是上帝的子民。我曾有多少次宣称我的目标是为了服务他人?现在,他们就在这里!
我看着那些匪徒心中真切地涌动这个想法：“等等!他们不是匪徒!他们是孩子!”
我对那个说英语的年轻人说:“嗨,你没找到最好的东西!在那堆东西下面有一架很好的照相机。”
他奇怪地看了我一眼。
他用西班牙语对另一个年轻人说了几句话,那人在我指的地方找到了照相机。
接下去发生的事情,就是―面向他们展示一面对他们说:“好吉他!”我演示着弹了几下琴弦。“谁来弹?这儿,你想要吗?……索尼随身听、耳机、电池、几盘磁带!你想要吗?”我想真正的地道的美国人会放弃那些该放弃的东西。我开始喜欢送礼物给他们的感觉了。我试着想在我的所有物品中,他们最喜欢什么呢。
于是我不由自主地问道:“你们想吃点什么吗?”
那个说英语的年轻人作了翻译。四双惊讶的眼睛看着我打开了冰箱。现在我们有一个文化上的问题。我看见了一个漂亮的可口的红苹果。“好,这是普通的食物。”我取出了苹果,递给了拿着大砍刀的人。这似乎是一个重要的时刻。在许多文化中,分享食物是一种交流的方式,友谊的信号,或和平的宣告。当我坚持把苹果递给他时,我觉得他踌躇了一会。以他自己的方式放弃了我们初次见面时彼此所扮演的角色。他微笑了一下,接过了苹果。
我们已经送出了礼物,分享了食物。说英语的那个人说,我们要开车离开。恐惧的感觉回来了。我不知道他们要把我们带到哪里去。如果他们要杀死我们,这里同样是一个好地方。他们看起来并没有能力绑架我们并索取赎金。我建议他们将车开走,把我们留下。我们不知道自己身处何地,但总比同他们一起走好得多。我们就这个问题交换了几次意见,但是他们突然又用武器来威胁我。我只好接受。当我一回到恐惧状态,他们又变成了匪徒了。“好吧,我们走!”
我爬上后座,同朱迪丝和莱拉在一起,于是我们出发了。我已穿上裤子，这样我的精神状态已好些了。有一段时间,我一会儿置身现实之中,一会儿又脱离了现实,车子就在沙漠中行驶。后来我看见了灯光。就盘算着当我们车速慢下来接近人群时,怎样才能打开门,把朱迪丝和莱拉推出车外。
在车上,我问自己:“如果我同我尊贵的客人们一道开车旅行,我会怎么做?”唱歌,当然!
我和朱迪丝、莱拉唱了起来:
“听,听,听我心中的歌。
听,听,听我心中的歌。
我永远不会忘记你,我永远不会抛弃你。
我永远不会忘记你,我永远不会抛弃你。”
莱拉脸上始终挂着非常可爱的笑容。她吸引了一两个年轻人的目光。有好几次我看见他们努力地板着脸保持严厉的神色,(“得了吧,孩子,别来这一套,我是在干劫匪这一行”)但是很快就情不自禁地笑了起来。
他们似乎喜欢我们唱歌，我们也是。于是我意识到我没能成为一个好主人。他们并不懂我们所唱的任何一首歌。我想了想。灵感来了。
“干特拉玛拉,加吉拉,干特拉玛拉,干特拉玛拉……”
成功了。他们开始跟着唱了起来。气氛活跃了起来。没有什么匪徒和受害人了。我们脚上踏着节拍,情绪高涨地在夜晚的沙漠中穿行。
我们经过了一个村庄,但没有机会实现我那伟大的逃跑计划。当我们进入偏僻的多山的乡村时,灯火暗淡了。我们开进了一条黑暗的土路,旅行车突然停了下来。我和朱迪丝彼此看着对方,都想到他们就要杀害我们。我们深深地凝视着对方。
他们开了门,下了车。显然,他们的住处离抢劫的现场很远。他们开车回到了家里!
他们几个人说着“ADIOS”(再见)下了车。最后,只剩下我的那位说英语的朋友。他用不连贯的英语试图和我交流。“请原谅我们。我和我的伙伴,我们是穷人。我们的父亲们很穷。这就是我们挣钱的法子。很抱歉。我们不知道是你。你是一个大好人。你的妻子和孩子,都这么好。”
他一遍又一遍地道歉。“你们是好人。请不要把我们看作坏人。我希望这不会破坏你们的度假。”
他从口袋里掏出了我的钱包。“给你。”他把我的信用卡还给了我。“我们用不着它。最好你拿着。”他还给了我驾驶执照。在他一个伙伴惊讶的注视下,他抽出了几张墨西哥钞票。“给你,加油的钱。”
我像他的匪徒伙伴一样诧异。他把我的钱还给了我!他想处理好我们之间的关系。
然后他握着我的手，他看着我的眼睛,我们之间的隔膜消失了。有那么一会儿我们静静地站着。他说:“再见,”“上帝保佑你。”
我们的匪徒客人消失在夜幕中。我们全家拥抱在一起,哭了。
