On Wednesday afternoon, Uzma found an old camera on the windowsill of the dance studio. It was not hers, and it was not Clara's. A small window on the top showed the number one.
星期三下午，乌兹玛在舞蹈室的窗台上发现了一台旧相机。它不是她的，也不是克拉拉的。机身顶部的小窗口里显示着数字一。
The studio was on the first floor, above a pharmacy. Uzma had worked there for exactly nine days. Before that, she had been an accountant for six years. She had quit her job because she wanted a life with music in it. Now she was afraid of her first class.
舞蹈室在二楼，楼下是一家药店。乌兹玛在这里刚好工作了九天。在那之前，她当了六年会计。她辞掉了工作，因为她想要一种有音乐的生活。可现在，她很怕自己的第一堂课。
Clara was leaving on Thursday morning for a three-week dance course in another city. That meant Uzma would lead the beginners' class alone on Thursday evening. There would be twelve students and no one to help her.
克拉拉星期四早上就要去另一座城市参加为期三周的舞蹈课程。这意味着星期四晚上，乌兹玛得一个人带初学者班。会有十二个学员，没有人帮她。
"Whose camera is this?" she asked, holding it up.
“这是谁的相机？”她举起来问。
Clara looked up from her bag of shoes. "I have never seen it. It must belong to a student."
克拉拉从她那袋舞鞋里抬起头。“我从没见过，一定是哪个学员的。”
"The film counter says one. That means somebody has taken thirty-five photos and left one picture empty." Uzma turned the camera over in her hands. "Nobody leaves a camera like that by accident."
“胶卷计数器显示一。也就是说，有人拍了三十五张照片，只剩下一张没拍。”乌兹玛把相机翻过来看。“没有人会不小心把相机这样丢下的。”
"Then find out who it is," Clara said with a smile. "You are good with numbers, and you need something to do besides worry about tomorrow."
“那你就去查查是谁的，”克拉拉笑着说，“你擅长数字，而且除了担心明天，你也需要点别的事情做。”
Uzma wanted to say that she was not worrying, but it was not true. Instead, she sat on a wooden bench and looked at the camera carefully. It was heavy and black, with a worn leather strap. On the back, somebody had stuck a piece of tape. On the tape, in blue pen, was one short sentence: "Do not waste the last one."
乌兹玛想说她没有在担心，可那不是真话。她只好坐在木头长凳上，仔细端详那台相机。它又重又黑，皮带子已经磨旧了。背面有人贴了一条胶带，胶带上用蓝笔写着一句话：“别浪费最后一张。”
"That is clue number one," Uzma said. "The owner is careful. Or very stingy."
“这是第一条线索，”乌兹玛说，“主人很谨慎，要么就是非常小气。”
She opened the little leather case that hung from the strap. Inside there were two things. The first was a crumpled sweet wrapper that smelled strongly of mint. The second was a small piece of paper with pencil writing on it.
她打开挂在带子上的小皮套，里面有两样东西。第一样是一张皱巴巴的糖纸，有一股浓浓的薄荷味。第二样是一小张纸，上面有铅笔写的字。
"Clue number two and clue number three," she said, and she read the paper aloud. "'Tuesday, seven forty. Shelf three. Two centimetres.' What does that mean?"
“第二条线索和第三条线索。”她说着，把纸上的字念了出来。“‘星期二，七点四十分。三号架。两厘米。’这是什么意思？”
Clara came over and read the paper over her shoulder. "Tuesday at seven forty is our jumping exercise. The whole beginners' class jumps, and the floor shakes."
克拉拉走过来，从她肩后看那张纸。“星期二七点四十分是我们的跳跃练习。整个初学者班一起跳，地板都会震。”
"So somebody measures something at seven forty on Tuesdays. Two centimetres of what?" Uzma frowned. "And why would a student write down the shelf?"
“所以有人在星期二七点四十分测量什么东西。两厘米，是什么的两厘米呢？”乌兹玛皱起眉头。“学员为什么要把货架写下来呢？”
"Maybe it is not a student at all."
“也许根本不是学员。”
They looked at each other. Then Uzma put the camera on the bench and walked to the middle of the floor. She jumped once, as hard as she could. The wooden boards creaked under her feet, and the mirror on the wall made a thin, buzzing sound.
她们互相看了一眼。乌兹玛把相机放在长凳上，走到地板中央。她使出全身力气跳了一下。木地板在她脚下嘎吱作响，墙上的镜子发出一种细细的嗡嗡声。
"Everything moves a little," she said. "Even the walls."
“什么都在晃一点，”她说，“连墙都在晃。”
"And under us there is only one place with shelves." Clara pointed at the floor. "The pharmacy."
“而我们脚下，只有一个地方有货架。”克拉拉指着地板，“药店。”
Uzma laughed out loud for the first time that day. She picked up the camera again, took the mint wrapper between two fingers, and walked downstairs.
乌兹玛大声笑了出来，这是她今天第一次笑。她重新拿起相机，用两根手指捏起那张薄荷糖纸，走下楼去。
The pharmacy was quiet and smelled of soap. Behind the counter, a man in a white coat was arranging boxes of cough drops. When he saw the camera in her hand, he stopped, and his face changed.
药店里很安静，有一股肥皂的味道。柜台后面，一个穿白大褂的男人正在整理润喉糖的盒子。看到她手里的相机，他停下了动作，脸上的神情变了。
"You found it," he said. "I looked for it all morning. I thought I had left it on the bus."
“你找到了，”他说，“我找了一上午。我还以为落在公交车上了。”
"It was on our windowsill." Uzma put the camera on the counter. "Excuse me, but I have to ask. What is on shelf three?"
“它在我们的窗台上。”乌兹玛把相机放在柜台上。“不好意思，我得问一下，三号架上有什么？”
The man looked at the ceiling, and then at his own shoes. After a long moment, he pointed to the wall behind him. On the third shelf stood a row of bottles with blue labels. One bottle stood a little apart from the others.
男人看看天花板，又看看自己的鞋。过了很久，他指向身后的墙。第三层架子上排着一列贴蓝标签的瓶子，其中有一瓶离其他瓶子稍微远一点。
"That is the cough syrup," he said. "For eight months, I have been watching it. Every Tuesday evening, at about seven forty, it walks."
“那是止咳糖浆，”他说，“八个月来，我一直在盯着它。每个星期二晚上七点四十分左右，它都会走。”
"It walks?"
“它会走？”
"It moves two centimetres across the shelf. Then I put it back on Wednesday morning, and the next Tuesday it walks again." He sighed. "I thought the shelf was crooked. I thought the building was crooked. I even bought a small level to check the floor."
“它会在架子上挪动两厘米。星期三早上我把它放回去，下个星期二它又走了。”他叹了口气。“我以为是架子歪了，以为是整栋楼歪了。我甚至买了个小水平仪来量地板。”
"And the camera?"
“那相机呢？”
"I took a photo every week, to prove that I was not imagining it. Thirty-five photos of a bottle." He looked embarrassed. "Yesterday I went upstairs to take the last picture of the dancers, to show the owner. But a customer came, and I ran down and forgot everything."
“我每周拍一张照片，来证明我不是在胡思乱想。三十五张一个瓶子的照片。”他显得有些难为情。“昨天我上楼想给跳舞的人拍最后一张照片，拿给房东看。可是来了个顾客，我就跑下楼，把什么都忘了。”
Uzma tried not to laugh, but she could not stop herself. "The bottle walks because we jump on it. It is the beginners' class."
乌兹玛想忍住不笑，却没忍住。“瓶子会走，是因为我们在它上面跳。那是初学者班。”
"I understand that now." The man laughed too, and his shoulders relaxed. "I have had a different theory every week. Last month I believed it was a ghost."
“我现在明白了。”男人也笑了，肩膀放松下来。“我每个星期都有一种不同的猜测。上个月，我还相信是闹鬼。”
"I am sorry about the ghost. I am sure it was not there."
“闹鬼的事我很抱歉，我肯定那里没有鬼。”
"I am glad about the answer," he said. "I did not want to complain. I only wanted to know."
“我很高兴有了答案，”他说，“我并不想投诉，我只是想知道。”
He pushed the camera back across the counter. "Please keep it until tomorrow. If I take the last picture myself, I will feel silly. The mystery is finished, and I would rather spend the film on something better."
他把相机推回到柜台对面。“请你留到明天吧。如果我自己去拍最后一张，会觉得自己很傻。谜已经解开了，我宁愿把这张胶卷留给更好的东西。”
Uzma took the camera upstairs and put it on the bench. Clara had gone home, and the studio was empty. For a long time, she sat there and listened to the pharmacy door opening and closing below.
乌兹玛把相机拿上楼，放在长凳上。克拉拉已经回家了，舞蹈室里空荡荡的。她坐了很久，听着楼下药店的门开了又关。
On Thursday evening, twelve students arrived at the studio. Uzma's hands shook as she turned on the music. She told them the story of the walking bottle before they started. The class laughed, and for some reason that made her feel stronger. When they did the jumping exercise, a few people waved at the floor. Someone shouted a polite hello to the man below.
星期四晚上，十二个学员来到了舞蹈室。乌兹玛打开音乐时，手在发抖。开始之前，她给大家讲了那个会走路的瓶子的故事。全班都笑了，不知为什么，这让她觉得有力量了一些。做跳跃练习时，有几个人对着地板挥手，有人还朝楼下的男人客气地喊了一声你好。
At the end of the class, the students put on their coats and said goodbye. Uzma stayed alone in the studio. She stood at the door, held the camera up to her eye, and looked through the small window.
下课时，学员们穿上外套，互相道别。乌兹玛一个人留在舞蹈室里。她站在门口，把相机举到眼前，透过那个小小的取景窗往外看。
The mirror held the last of the evening light. The floor was smooth and quiet, and a pair of forgotten dance shoes lay near the wall. She waited a moment, then pressed the button, and the camera clicked once.
镜子里留着傍晚最后的光线。地板平整而安静，墙边躺着一双被人遗忘的舞鞋。她等了一会儿，然后按下了按钮，相机咔嗒响了一声。
