Six on the White Ground

At seven in the morning the salt flat is already white enough to hurt. Oded drags the folding table to the edge of the parking area, the way he does every day. He sets out his props in the same order.

早上七点，盐滩已经白得刺眼。奥德德像每天一样，把折叠桌拖到停车场的边上。他按老顺序摆好他的道具。

First comes the plastic palm tree. Then comes the toy truck, which looks enormous in photos if the tourist stands far enough away. Last comes the canvas sack of dice, which his mother calls his collection and which Oded calls his problem.

先是塑料棕榈树。接着是玩具卡车，只要游客站得够远，它在照片里就显得巨大无比。最后是帆布骰子袋，妈妈把它叫作他的收藏，奥德德却把它叫作他的麻烦。

The sack holds thirty-six dice, and no two of them match. Some are wooden, some are glass, and one is the size of a plum. A few have lost their dots. Oded has gathered them over three summers from the broken board games that visitors leave in the bin by the toilets.

袋子里装着三十六颗骰子，没有哪两颗是一样的。有些是木头的，有些是玻璃的，还有一颗有李子那么大。有几颗上面的点已经磨掉了。三个夏天以来，奥德德一直在厕所旁边的垃圾桶里，捡游客丢下的破旧棋盘游戏，攒下了这些骰子。

His mother stacks water bottles in the kiosk window. Oded shakes the sack, and the dice clatter like a small landslide.

妈妈在小卖部的窗口里摞着瓶装水。奥德德摇了摇袋子，骰子哗啦啦地响，像一场小小的山崩。

This is his morning habit. He pulls one die from the sack without looking, rolls it on the table, and reads the number. Whatever it shows is the number of photos he will give away for free that day. Today a chipped green cube shows a three. It is a silly rule, but Oded likes that the decision is not his.

这是他早晨的习惯。他不看，从袋子里抽出一颗骰子，在桌上掷一下，读出点数。点数是几，他那天就免费送出几张照片。今天，一颗磕缺了角的绿色骰子掷出了三点。这条规矩傻乎乎的，但奥德德喜欢这个决定不是由他来做的。

The first tourists arrive at nine, in loud, sunburned groups. For an hour and a half the routine runs by itself. Oded poses a couple so that one of them seems to hold the other in a giant hand. He gives a free photo to a small boy who has no one to take his picture. The ground begins to shimmer, and the horizon disappears, which is the whole attraction.

第一批游客九点到，三五成群，吵吵嚷嚷，被晒得通红。接下来一个半小时，一切例行公事自己就运转起来了。奥德德给一对情侣摆姿势，让其中一个看上去像被另一个握在巨大的手掌里。他给一个没人帮忙拍照的小男孩免费拍了一张。地面开始闪烁，地平线消失了，这正是这里最大的看点。

At half past ten, the routine breaks.

十点半，例行公事被打断了。

A dusty pickup stops at the far end of the parking area. It drops off a boy and three metal cases, then drives away without waiting. The boy looks about seventeen, the same as Oded. He wears a floppy hat and carries a tripod on his shoulder, and he walks across the crust very slowly, as if it might crack.

一辆满是灰尘的皮卡停在停车场的远端。它放下一个男孩和三只金属箱，没有等人就开走了。男孩看上去十七岁左右，跟奥德德一样大。他戴着一顶软塌塌的帽子，肩上扛着三脚架，在盐壳上走得很慢，好像它随时会裂开似的。

"It will not break," Oded calls out. "Last year a truck drove across it. A small truck, but still."

“它不会碎的，”奥德德喊道，“去年有辆卡车从上面开过去。是辆小卡车，不过也算卡车。”

The boy stops and looks at him. "Good to know. I have been worrying about that for the last ten kilometres."

男孩停下来，看着他。“那我就放心了。这十公里来我一直在担心这个。”

His name is Ferran. He is an intern with a survey company, and his job is to measure how the salt crust moves during the day. The readings must be taken every hour until sunset. His supervisor has gone to inspect another site and has promised to come back by evening.

他叫费兰。他是一家测绘公司的实习生，工作是测量盐壳在一天中的移动。读数必须每小时记录一次，一直到日落。他的主管去勘察另一处场地了，答应傍晚前回来。

"So you are stuck here for seven hours," Oded says.

“这么说，你要在这儿待七个小时。”奥德德说。

"I am stuck here with a laser, a notebook and no shade," Ferran says. "Is there somewhere to sit?"

“我要跟一台激光仪、一本笔记本待在这儿，还没有一点阴凉。”费兰说，“有地方坐吗？”

Because the boy looks so miserable, Oded pushes his own folding chair across the salt with his foot.

男孩看上去那么凄惨，奥德德就用脚把自己的折叠椅推过了盐面。

Ferran sets up the tripod and takes his first reading. Oded pretends to straighten the palm tree while he watches.

费兰架好三脚架，记下第一个读数。奥德德一边假装在扶正棕榈树，一边偷看他。

"You are staring," Ferran says, without looking up.

“你在盯着我看。”费兰头也不抬地说。

"I am working. You are standing in my frame."

“我在工作。你站在我的取景框里了。”

"What frame?"

“什么取景框？”

"The one in my head. A boy in a hat, a tripod, a lot of nothing behind him."

“我脑子里的那个。一个戴帽子的男孩，一架三脚架，身后是一大片什么也没有。”

Ferran looks up at last. He seems to decide whether he has been insulted, and then he laughs. It is a short, surprised laugh.

费兰终于抬起头。他像是在掂量自己是不是被冒犯了，然后笑了起来。那是一声短促而意外的笑。

At noon he takes his next reading, and afterwards he wanders over to the table. His eyes stop on the sack of dice.

中午，他记下下一个读数，然后踱到桌子旁。他的目光停在了那袋骰子上。

"What are those for?"

“这些是做什么用的？”

"Nothing. They are mine. I roll one every morning to decide how many free photos I give away."

“没什么用。是我自己的。我每天早上掷一颗，决定送出多少张免费照片。”

"Thirty-six dice and not one matches," Ferran says, tipping a few into his palm. "This is the best thing I have seen all week. Do you know what you could do with these?"

“三十六颗骰子，没有一颗是一样的，”费兰说着，把几颗倒在手心里，“这是我这个星期见过的最棒的东西。你知道可以拿它们做什么吗？”

"Lose them in the salt?"

“把它们丢进盐里？”

"Make a game. Listen. Each player pulls two dice from the sack without looking, and rolls them together. A blank face counts as zero, and the big one counts double. Whoever has the lower total must answer a question from the other player. A true answer, no jokes."

“做个游戏。听着。每个玩家不看，从袋子里抽两颗骰子，一起掷。空白面算零，大的那颗算双倍。总数比较小的那个人，必须回答对方的一个问题。要说真话，不许开玩笑。”

Oded raises an eyebrow. "That is a very strange game."

奥德德挑起一边眉毛。“这游戏真奇怪。”

"It is a very strange sack," Ferran says.

“这袋子才真奇怪。”费兰说。

They play the first round on the table while the tourists wander around them. Oded rolls a four and a blank. Ferran rolls a five on the plum-sized die, which doubles to ten. Oded loses badly.

他们在桌上玩了第一轮，游客们在他们周围闲逛。奥德德掷出一个四点和一个空白。费兰在李子大的那颗上掷出五点，翻倍成了十。奥德德输得很惨。

"Why do you really give away free photos?" Ferran asks.

“你为什么真的要送免费照片？”费兰问。

Oded thinks about it longer than he expects to. "Because the first summer nobody smiled in my photos. They were all too hot and too tired. A free one made them laugh, and then the paid ones were better."

奥德德想了很久，比他预料的还要久。“因为第一个夏天，没有人在我的照片里笑。他们都又热又累。送一张免费的，他们就笑了，接下来收费的照片也拍得更好了。”

"That is clever."

“真聪明。”

"It is only business," Oded says, and he busies himself with the palm tree for a while.

“只是做生意而已。”奥德德说，然后忙着摆弄了好一会儿棕榈树。

The afternoon changes shape. Every hour Ferran walks out to his tripod, reads the numbers aloud like a doctor, and walks back. Every hour they play one round. Oded learns that Ferran hates the sea and loves empty places. He learns that Ferran's mother wants him to study law, and that Ferran would rather draw maps.

下午的节奏变了。每过一小时，费兰就走到他的三脚架那里，像医生一样把数字念出来，再走回来。每过一小时，他们就玩一轮。奥德德得知费兰讨厌大海，却喜欢空旷的地方。他得知费兰的妈妈想让他学法律，而费兰更想画地图。

Ferran learns things too. He learns that the toy truck is a copy of Oded's father's real one, which no longer runs. Oded does not plan to say that. The dice seem to pull it out of him.

费兰也知道了一些事。他知道了那辆玩具卡车是照着奥德德爸爸的真卡车做的，而那辆真车已经开不动了。奥德德本来没打算说这个。骰子好像把话从他嘴里拽了出来。

Around three, the tourists retreat to their cars, and the flat grows quiet.

三点左右，游客们退回了各自的车里，盐滩安静下来。

"You should take a photo of me," Ferran says suddenly. "With the props. I want proof that I survived."

“你该给我拍一张照片，”费兰突然说，“带上那些道具。我要一个我活下来了的证据。”

"Photos cost five coins."

“照片收五个硬币。”

"I will pay."

“我付钱。”

"No, you will not," Oded says. "I still have a free one left from this morning."

“不，你不用付，”奥德德说，“我今天早上还剩一张免费的。”

He places Ferran far from the camera and puts the toy truck close to the lens. In the photo, the truck seems to rest on Ferran's open hand, and the boy behind it looks small, tanned and slightly amazed. Ferran leans over his shoulder to see the screen.

他把费兰安排在离镜头很远的地方，又把玩具卡车放在紧靠镜头的位置。照片里，卡车像是停在费兰张开的手掌上，而它后面的男孩显得又小，又晒黑了，还带着一点惊奇。费兰从他肩膀后面凑过来看屏幕。

"That is a good one," he says.

“拍得真好。”他说。

"It is all right."

“还行吧。”

"It is a good one, Oded."

“拍得真好，奥德德。”

They stand there a moment longer than the photo needs.

他们站在那里，比拍一张照片所需要的时间多待了一会儿。

At half past five a pale cloud of dust appears on the horizon and slowly becomes the pickup. Ferran packs his cases with the speed of someone who would prefer to be slower.

五点半，地平线上出现了一团淡淡的尘云，慢慢变成了那辆皮卡。费兰收拾金属箱的速度很快，却像是一个更希望慢一点的人。

"Last round?" he asks.

“最后一轮？”他问。

"Last round."

“最后一轮。”

Oded pulls the chipped green cube and a glass die with one blank face. Ferran pulls the plum. They roll together, and the dice skid across the table, spin, and settle. Oded gets a two. Ferran gets a blank and a one, and the plum doubles nothing.

奥德德抽出那颗磕缺了角的绿色骰子，和一颗有一面空白的玻璃骰子。费兰抽出那颗李子大的。他们一起掷出，骰子在桌上滑过，旋转，然后停住。奥德德掷出两点。费兰掷出一个空白和一点，李子大的那颗什么也没有翻倍。

"I lose," Ferran says. "Ask me."

“我输了，”费兰说，“问吧。”

Oded has a dozen questions ready, and now every one of them leaves his head. "Which one of the dice would you keep?"

奥德德准备了十几个问题，此刻却一个也想不起来了。“这些骰子里，你会留下哪一颗？”

Ferran does not answer at once. He searches the sack until he finds the smallest die of all, a grey stone cube with three dots worn away.

费兰没有马上回答。他在袋子里翻找，直到找出最小的那颗，一颗灰色的石头骰子，三个点已经磨平了。

"This one. It is the ugliest."

“这颗。它最丑。”

"It is also the oldest," Oded says. "Take it."

“它也是最老的，”奥德德说，“拿去吧。”

"That is not part of the game."

“这不在游戏规则里。”

"The game is mine. I change the rules."

“游戏是我的。我改规则。”

Ferran closes his hand around the die, and the pickup honks twice at the edge of the lot. He walks across the salt without testing the crust this time. At the door of the pickup he turns around, lifts his arm, and throws something small and white in a slow arc.

费兰把手握紧，骰子攥在手心里，皮卡在停车场边上按了两声喇叭。这一次，他走过盐面时没有再试探盐壳。到了皮卡门口，他转过身，抬起手臂，朝这边抛出一样小小的白色东西，划出一道缓慢的弧线。

Oded catches it with both hands. It is a folded page from the notebook. On it is a map, drawn in careful lines, of a white flat with a table, a palm tree and a boy.

奥德德用双手接住。那是从笔记本上撕下来的一页，折着。上面用细致的线条画着一张地图：一片白色的平地，上面有一张桌子、一棵棕榈树和一个男孩。

The pickup drives away until it is only a bright speck in the glare. His mother says nothing from the kiosk window, which is a kindness in itself.

皮卡越开越远，最后只剩强光里一个亮点。妈妈在小卖部的窗口里什么也没说，这本身就是一种体贴。

Oded puts the map in his shirt pocket. Then he reaches into the sack, pulls out the chipped green cube, and rolls it one last time, to decide tomorrow's free photos. The cube bounces off the table leg, spins on the white ground, and stops.

奥德德把地图放进衬衫口袋。然后他伸手到袋子里，抽出那颗磕缺了角的绿色骰子，最后一次掷下去，决定明天的免费照片。骰子撞在桌腿上弹开，在白色的地面上打着转，停了下来。

Six.

六点。