Every Saturday at four, Safiya pulls a rope. A green curtain slides across a small wooden stage. Then an act steps out, and she pulls the rope again. The curtain opens. That is her whole job. She loves it.
每个星期六下午四点，萨菲娅都要拉一下绳子。一道绿色的幕布滑过一个小小的木头舞台。接着，一位表演者走出来，她再拉一下绳子，幕布就拉开了。这就是她的全部工作。她很喜欢。
The stage stands on the roof of the shopping centre. Up here, it is quiet. There are long boxes of mint and tomato plants. There are benches, string lights and a path of small stones. Far below, behind a glass roof, people ride the escalators with bags.
舞台设在购物中心的屋顶上。在这上面，一切都很安静。这里有一长排一长排种着薄荷和番茄的花箱，有长椅，有彩灯串，还有一条用小石子铺成的小路。远远的下方，隔着一层玻璃顶，人们提着购物袋乘着自动扶梯上上下下。
Safiya is fifteen. She volunteers in the roof garden every weekend. She likes the curtain because it hides her. Behind it, she sees everything, and nobody sees her. She writes songs in a notebook, but nobody hears them. The notebook lives at the bottom of her bag.
萨菲娅十五岁。她每个周末都在屋顶花园做志愿者。她喜欢这道幕布，因为它能把她藏起来。在幕布后面，她什么都看得见，却没有人看得见她。她会在笔记本上写歌，但没有人听过。那本笔记本一直躺在她书包的最底层。
Today, only one act is on the list. His name is Edin. He climbs the last steps at three forty. He carries a guitar case that looks too big for him.
今天，节目单上只有一个表演。他叫埃丁。三点四十分，他爬上了最后几级台阶。他背着一个吉他盒，那盒子看上去对他来说太大了。
"Is this where I play?" he asks. His voice is thin.
“我是在这里演出吗？”他问。他的声音很细。
"This is the place," Safiya says. "You are on at four."
“就是这儿，”萨菲娅说，“四点轮到你。”
Edin sits on a bench. He opens the case and closes it again. He opens it again. His fingers are white at the tips.
埃丁在长椅上坐下。他打开琴盒，又合上，然后又打开。他的指尖都发白了。
"I never play for real people," he says. "Only for my dog."
“我从来没有给真正的人演奏过，”他说，“只给我的狗听过。”
"What does your dog think?" Safiya asks.
“你的狗怎么说？”萨菲娅问。
"He sleeps," Edin says. "But he is very polite about it."
“它睡着了，”埃丁说，“不过睡得非常有礼貌。”
Safiya smiles. "Then you are ready," she says.
萨菲娅笑了。“那你已经准备好了。”她说。
"No," Edin says. "Please close the curtain. Keep it closed until I am ready. Then open it. That is how it works, right?"
“没有，”埃丁说，“请把幕布拉上。在我准备好之前，一直别拉开。等我准备好了，再拉开。是这样操作的，对吧？”
"That is how it works," Safiya says.
“是这样操作的。”萨菲娅说。
At three fifty, twelve people sit on the benches. A man with a coffee. Two girls with ice cream. A family with a small baby. The garden manager checks the lights. Safiya goes to the rope.
三点五十分，十二个人坐在长椅上。一个端着咖啡的男人，两个吃着冰淇淋的女孩，一家带着小宝宝的人。花园经理在检查灯光。萨菲娅走到绳子旁边。
She pulls it.
她拉了一下。
The curtain slides, stops, and sticks in the middle.
幕布滑了一段，停住了，卡在了中间。
She pulls again. Nothing. She pulls harder. The rope burns her hand. The curtain does not move. The green cloth hangs in a fold. A large gap shows on the left.
她又拉了一下。纹丝不动。她用更大的力气拉。绳子勒得她手掌发烫，幕布还是不动。绿色的布料堆成一道褶子，左边露出了一大块空隙。
"It is stuck," she says to nobody.
“卡住了，”她对着空气说。
She gets the ladder. She climbs up and looks at the rail. One small wheel is out of its track. The metal rail is bent. She pushes it back. The curtain jumps forward a little. Then it stops at the same place. She tries three times. Each time the wheel jumps out.
她搬来梯子，爬上去查看轨道。一个小滑轮脱出了轨道，金属轨道也弯了。她把它推回原位，幕布往前蹿了一小截，然后又在同一个地方停住了。她试了三次，每一次滑轮都会跳出来。
"Safiya?" the manager calls. "It is almost four."
“萨菲娅？”经理喊道，“快到四点了。”
"One minute!" she says.
“再给我一分钟！”她说。
She has no new rail and no time. Edin stands on the stage and stares at the gap. To him it looks like a hole in a boat.
她没有新的轨道，也没有时间了。埃丁站在舞台上，盯着那道空隙。在他眼里，那就像船身上的一个洞。
He comes over to the ladder. His face is the colour of paper.
他走到梯子旁边。他的脸色白得像纸。
"Can't you fix it?" he asks.
“你修不好吗？”他问。
"Not today," Safiya says. "The rail is bent. I need a new one."
“今天不行，”萨菲娅说，“轨道弯了，我得换一根新的。”
"Then I cannot play," Edin says. "I am sorry. I wanted the curtain to hide me. I wanted to start, and nobody sees my hands shake."
“那我就没法演了，”埃丁说，“对不起。我本来想让幕布把我藏起来，想在没人看到我的手在发抖的时候开始。”
He picks up his guitar case. He turns toward the stairs.
他拎起吉他盒，转身朝楼梯走去。
Safiya climbs down. She stands in front of him. She does not know why. It is not her job to stop people. Her job is to pull a rope.
萨菲娅从梯子上下来，站到他面前。她不知道自己为什么这样做。拦住别人不是她的工作，她的工作是拉绳子。
"Wait," she says.
“等一下。”她说。
"Why?" Edin asks.
“为什么？”埃丁问。
Safiya looks at the benches. The twelve people wait. The baby makes a happy noise. The man with the coffee looks at his phone. Nobody is angry. Nobody even looks unkind. They only wait.
萨菲娅看向长椅。那十二个人在等着。小宝宝发出开心的声音。端咖啡的男人在看手机。没有人生气，甚至没有人露出不友善的神情。他们只是在等。
"The first time is the hardest," she says. "After the first minute, nobody sees your hands. They hear the music."
“第一次是最难的，”她说，“过了第一分钟，就没有人会看到你的手了，他们听到的是音乐。”
"How do you know?" Edin says.
“你怎么知道？”埃丁说。
"I do not," Safiya says. "Not really. I only watch other people do it."
“我不知道，”萨菲娅说，“其实不知道。我只是看过别人这样做。”
Edin laughs, a short, surprised laugh. It is the first time he laughs. "That is not very helpful," he says.
埃丁笑了，一声短短的、带着惊讶的笑。这是他第一次笑。“这话可帮不上什么忙。”他说。
"No," Safiya says. "It is not."
“是啊，”萨菲娅说，“帮不上。”
For a moment, neither of them says anything. The string lights glow. The sky above them turns grey. The tomato plants smell warm and green. Below the glass, people still ride the escalators. Some of them look up.
有那么一会儿，两个人都没有说话。彩灯亮着微光，头顶的天空渐渐变灰。番茄秧散发出温热而青涩的气味。玻璃顶下面，人们还在乘自动扶梯，有几个人抬头往上看。
Edin puts the case down on the stage. He takes out his guitar. His hands still shake. But he holds it as if he trusts it.
埃丁把琴盒放在舞台上，取出吉他。他的手还在发抖，但他抱着吉他的样子，好像信得过它。
"Will you stand next to me?" he asks.
“你能站在我旁边吗？”他问。
"Next to you?" Safiya says. "On the stage?"
“站在你旁边？”萨菲娅说，“在舞台上？”
"At the side," Edin says. "Next to the rope. Where I can see you. Only until the first song ends."
“在舞台边上，”埃丁说，“挨着绳子，在我能看见你的地方。只站到第一首歌结束。”
Safiya looks at the rope in her hand. She looks at the gap in the curtain. Then she looks at the people on the benches. Every Saturday, a curtain hides her from them. Now nothing does.
萨菲娅看着手里的绳子，看着幕布上的那道空隙，又看着长椅上的人们。每个星期六，都有一道幕布把她和他们隔开。而现在，什么也没有了。
"Okay," she says. "Only until the first song ends."
“好吧，”她说，“只站到第一首歌结束。”
She walks to the side of the stage. The boards feel strange under her feet. She can hear her heart. She can hear the baby. She holds the rope with both hands. It feels like a rope on a ship.
她走到舞台边上。脚下的木板感觉很陌生。她听得见自己的心跳，也听得见宝宝的声音。她双手握着绳子，那感觉像是握着船上的缆绳。
Edin plays a first note. It is wrong. He stops, breathes in, and plays it again.
埃丁弹出了第一个音。弹错了。他停下来，吸了一口气，又弹了一遍。
This time, it is right.
这一次，对了。
It spreads over the garden, soft and a little uneven. The man with the coffee puts his phone away. The two girls stop talking. Edin closes his eyes, and Safiya watches his hands slowly stop shaking.
琴声在花园里散开，轻柔，还有一点不太均匀。端咖啡的男人把手机收了起来。两个女孩不再说话。埃丁闭上了眼睛，萨菲娅看着他的手慢慢不再颤抖。
He plays the whole song. When it ends, the people clap. The baby claps too, without knowing why.
他弹完了整首歌。曲终时，人们鼓起了掌。小宝宝也跟着拍手，虽然不知道为什么。
Edin opens his eyes. He looks at Safiya and smiles. It is a big, happy smile, with no fear in it.
埃丁睁开眼睛。他看着萨菲娅，笑了。那是一个灿烂而开心的笑容，里面没有一点恐惧。
"Next one?" the manager calls from the back. "Anyone else want to play?"
“下一位呢？”经理在后面喊，“还有谁想演奏吗？”
Nobody answers. The garden is quiet. Safiya looks down at her bag by the ladder. Her hand is on it.
没有人回答。花园里静悄悄的。萨菲娅低头看着放在梯子旁边的书包。她的手搭在上面。
The bag is half open.
书包半开着。
