The microphone repeats everything Lior says.
麦克风会重复利奥尔说的每一句话。
Lior hates it. He is twenty-two, and this is his first real job. He works alone at the weather station on top of a hill. The station is a white hut. It has a metal tower on the roof. Below it, a green valley lies quiet and wide. Inside the hut, there are a desk and a radio. There is also a jar of coffee. There is also the microphone.
利奥尔很讨厌这样。他二十二岁，这是他的第一份正式工作。他独自一人在山顶的气象站工作。气象站是一间白色的小屋，屋顶上有一座金属塔。塔下面是一片宁静而开阔的绿色山谷。小屋里有一张桌子和一台收音机，还有一罐咖啡，还有那支麦克风。
Lior reads the numbers three times a day. He reads at six in the morning, at noon, and at night. He reads the heat, the wind, and the air pressure. A recorder in the town office saves his voice. That is the whole job.
利奥尔每天要播报三次数据：早上六点、中午和夜里。他播报气温、风力和气压。镇上办公室里的一台录音机会把他的声音保存下来。工作就是这么简单。
The microphone is the problem. Lior says, "Twelve degrees." One second later, a small voice answers, "Twelve degrees." It sounds like a polite parrot that lives inside the cable.
问题出在麦克风上。利奥尔说：“十二度。”一秒钟后，一个细小的声音回答：“十二度。”听起来就像住在电线里的一只有礼貌的鹦鹉。
He tries to fix it. He changes the cable. He cleans the plug. He moves the desk to the other wall. He even turns the microphone upside down. The parrot still answers.
他试着修好它。他换了线，擦了插头，把桌子挪到另一面墙边，甚至把麦克风倒过来放。鹦鹉还是照样回答。
The manual says, "Echo can happen in tall, empty rooms." The hut is small and full of boxes. Lior laughs, but nobody hears him.
说明书上写着：“在高大空旷的房间里可能会出现回声。”可这间小屋又小又堆满了箱子。利奥尔笑了笑，但没有人听见他的笑声。
After a month, he stops fighting. He reads his numbers, and the parrot repeats them. It becomes part of the day, like the hum of the radio.
一个月后，他不再和它较劲。他读他的数据，鹦鹉重复它们。这渐渐成了一天中的一部分，就像收音机的嗡嗡声一样。
Lior has a second problem, and it is not in the cable. In his desk drawer, there is a form. It is a form for a sound school in the city. His name is at the top. The rest is empty.
利奥尔还有第二个问题，而且它不在电线里。他的抽屉里有一张表格，是城里一所音响学校的报名表。顶上写着他的名字，其余的地方都是空白。
He tells nobody about it. His mother calls every Sunday. She is proud of his steady job.
他没有告诉任何人。他妈妈每个星期天都会打电话来。她为他这份稳定的工作感到骄傲。
"A safe job is a gift," she says.
“一份安稳的工作是一份礼物。”她说。
"Yes, Mum," says Lior. He looks at the drawer, and he does not open it.
“是的，妈。”利奥尔说。他看着抽屉，没有打开它。
On Thursday morning, Lior sits down at six o'clock. The valley is silent. He presses the button on the microphone.
星期四早上六点，利奥尔坐了下来。山谷一片寂静。他按下麦克风上的按钮。
"Hill Station. Lior reading. Eleven degrees."
“山顶气象站。我是利奥尔，现在播报。十一度。”
"Eleven degrees," says the parrot.
“十一度。”鹦鹉说。
"Light wind from the north."
“北面有微风。”
"Wind from the north," says the parrot.
“北面有微风。”鹦鹉说。
He looks at the empty hut. Then he says a line that is not a number. "Same as yesterday. Same as always."
他看着空荡荡的小屋。然后他说了一句不是数据的话。“和昨天一样。和往常一样。”
For a moment, nothing happens. Then the voice says, "Same as always." After another second, it adds, "You sound bored, Lior."
有那么一会儿，什么也没有发生。接着那个声音说：“和往常一样。”又过了一秒，它补充道：“你听起来很无聊，利奥尔。”
Lior jumps. His coffee jar falls off the desk and rolls across the floor. He stares at the microphone as if it has teeth.
利奥尔吓了一跳。他的咖啡罐从桌上掉下来，滚过地板。他盯着麦克风，仿佛它长着牙齿。
"Hello?" he says.
“喂？”他说。
"Hello?" says the voice. Then it laughs. "Yes, I am real. I am not a parrot. Sorry for the second. My radio is slow."
“喂？”那个声音说。然后它笑了。“是的，我是真人。我不是鹦鹉。对不起，隔了一秒钟。我的收音机反应慢。”
Lior grabs the edge of the desk. "Who are you?"
利奥尔抓住桌子边缘。“你是谁？”
He waits for the answer. The second feels very long.
他等着答案。这一秒显得特别漫长。
"My name is Uzma. I live on a sheep farm at the bottom of your hill. My old radio catches your channel. It can send, too, if I press the big button."
“我叫乌兹玛。我住在你们山脚下的一个养羊场里。我的旧收音机能收到你的频道。只要我按下那个大按钮，它也能发送。”
"You listen to me?"
“你一直在听我说话？”
"Every day for two months. At first it was a game. I repeat your numbers when the sheep wake up. Now I like your voice. It is the first thing I hear."
“每天都听，已经两个月了。起初只是个游戏。羊群醒来的时候，我就重复你报的数字。现在我喜欢你的声音。它是我每天听到的第一个声音。”
Lior sits on the floor with the microphone in his hand. He does not know what to say. A second goes by, and then another.
利奥尔坐在地上，手里拿着麦克风。他不知道该说什么。一秒过去了，又一秒过去了。
"You sound sad," says Uzma. "Not only today. Every day. Tell me why."
“你听起来很难过，”乌兹玛说，“不只是今天，是每一天。告诉我为什么。”
It is easier to talk to a voice in a wire. Lior says it fast. "I like sound. I like machines that carry voices across a valley. I want to study it in the city. But I have a safe job, and my mother is happy."
对着电线里的一个声音说话，要容易得多。利奥尔飞快地说了出来。“我喜欢声音。我喜欢那些能让声音穿过山谷的机器。我想去城里学这个。可是我有一份安稳的工作，我妈妈也很高兴。”
"Do you have a form?"
“你有一张表格吗？”
"How do you know that?"
“你怎么知道？”
"Everybody with a dream has a form in a drawer," says Uzma. "Open it."
“每个有梦想的人，抽屉里都有一张表格，”乌兹玛说，“打开它。”
Lior opens it. The paper is soft at the corners. He touches it often. He puts it flat on the desk.
利奥尔打开了抽屉。纸的边角已经变软了。他经常摸它。他把它平放在桌上。
"Now read it to me," says Uzma. "Read it like you read the heat and the wind."
“现在读给我听，”乌兹玛说，“就像你读气温和风力那样读。”
He feels silly. Then he reads. "Sound Engineering School. Applications close this month."
他觉得自己很傻。然后他还是读了起来。“音响工程学院。本月截止报名。”
"Applications close this month," says the echo, one second late.
“本月截止报名。”回声晚了一秒钟说道。
"Name. Lior."
“姓名。利奥尔。”
"Name. Lior."
“姓名。利奥尔。”
"Reason for applying."
“申请理由。”
He stops. The pen shakes in his hand. The microphone waits. So does the valley.
他停住了。手里的笔在发抖。麦克风在等着，山谷也在等着。
"I don't know what to write," he says.
“我不知道该写什么。”他说。
"Don't write," says Uzma. "Say it. I will say it back, so you can hear how it sounds."
“别写，”乌兹玛说，“说出来。我会把它再说一遍，让你听听它是什么感觉。”
Lior takes a breath. His voice is small at first. "I want to learn how voices travel."
利奥尔深吸了一口气。起初他的声音很小。“我想学习声音是怎么传播的。”
"I want to learn how voices travel," says Uzma, a second behind.
“我想学习声音是怎么传播的。”乌兹玛说，比他慢了一秒。
It sounds strange and wonderful. This is the first time he hears his own wish out loud. It does not sound silly at all. It sounds like a plan.
这听起来既奇怪又美妙。这是他第一次大声听到自己的心愿。它一点也不傻。它听起来像一个计划。
He writes the words on the form. Then he reads the next line, and the next. Uzma echoes each one. The sun climbs over the valley. The two of them fill the page together. Sometimes she makes a joke. Sometimes she waits and says nothing, and he is glad.
他把这些话写在表格上。然后他读下一行，再下一行。乌兹玛一句一句地回应。太阳爬上了山谷。他们两个人一起填满了这一页。有时她开个玩笑。有时她等着，什么也不说，他反而很高兴。
At last, there is only one box left. It says, "Signature."
最后只剩下一个空格，上面写着：“签名”。
Lior signs his name. The pen makes a tiny sound in the quiet hut. He feels light, for the first time in months.
利奥尔签下了自己的名字。笔在安静的小屋里发出一点细小的声响。几个月来第一次，他觉得身上很轻松。
"Now you need an envelope," says Uzma. "And a stamp. And you must be brave enough to go to the post office."
“现在你需要一个信封，”乌兹玛说，“还要一张邮票。你还得有足够的勇气去邮局。”
"The post office is down in the town," says Lior. "Everyone knows my mother there."
“邮局在镇上，”利奥尔说，“那里的人都认识我妈妈。”
"Then they will all hear the news from you first." She laughs. "Do not forget your numbers at noon, Lior."
“那他们就都会先从你这里听到这个消息了。”她笑了。“中午的数据别忘了，利奥尔。”
He laughs, too. He picks up the jar and puts it on the desk.
他也笑了。他捡起罐子，放回桌上。
"Will you still repeat me tomorrow?" he asks.
“你明天还会重复我说的话吗？”他问。
"One second late, every day," says Uzma. "But first, say your wish once more, and louder this time. The whole valley can hear you."
“每天都晚一秒，”乌兹玛说，“不过先把你的心愿再说一遍，这次说大声点。整个山谷都听得见你。”
