The ticket booth of the old cinema is a small glass box. It stands by the front door. Inside there is a stool and a lamp. There is also a little metal tray for money. The glass has a round hole at the bottom. People pass their coins through it.
老电影院的售票亭是一个小小的玻璃盒子，立在大门旁边。里面有一只凳子和一盏灯，还有一个装钱的小金属托盘。玻璃底部有一个圆孔，人们把硬币从孔里递进来。
Dalia sits in the booth every Saturday. She is sixteen. The job is quiet, and she likes quiet. She sells tickets, tears them in half and gives back the change. Between films, she reads a book on her knee.
每个星期六，达莉娅都坐在售票亭里。她十六岁。这份工作很安静，而她喜欢安静。她卖票，把票撕成两半，找零钱。两场电影之间，她就把书放在膝盖上看。
Every Saturday at ten past four, a boy comes to her window. His name is Paolo. She knows it because a friend at school tells her. He is tall and thin. He wears a green scarf even in summer.
每个星期六下午四点十分，都有一个男孩来到她的窗口。他叫保罗。她是听学校里的一个朋友说的。他个子高高的，瘦瘦的。就算在夏天，他也围着一条绿围巾。
Paolo always does the same thing. He puts a small cloth bag on the counter. He opens it and takes out a die. He rolls it on the metal tray. It clicks and spins and stops.
保罗总是做同样的事。他把一个小布袋放在柜台上，打开，取出一颗骰子，在金属托盘上掷出去。骰子咔嗒咔嗒地转着，停下来。
He looks at the die for a long time. Then he looks at Dalia. Then he buys a ticket.
他盯着骰子看很久。然后他看看达莉娅。然后他才买票。
The first time, Dalia finds it funny. The second time, she finds it strange. Now it is the sixth Saturday, and she is tired of it.
第一次，达莉娅觉得很好笑。第二次，她觉得很奇怪。现在已经是第六个星期六了，她对此厌烦透了。
Today the line behind Paolo is long. Six people wait with their coats and their popcorn money. Dalia sees them look at their watches.
今天保罗身后的队伍很长。六个人穿着外套，拿着买爆米花的钱在等。达莉娅看见他们在看手表。
Paolo puts the bag on the tray. The dice click together in the bag.
保罗把布袋放在托盘上。骰子在袋子里咔嗒咔嗒地碰在一起。
"Please don't," Dalia says.
“请别这样。”达莉娅说。
Paolo stops with his hand in the bag. "Sorry?"
保罗的手停在袋子里。“什么？”
"The dice. Please don't roll them today. People wait."
“骰子。今天请别掷了。大家在等。”
Paolo looks behind him. He sees the line. He moves his hand away from the tray. "Okay," he says in a low voice. "One ticket for the half-past-four film, please."
保罗回头看了看。他看见了长长的队伍。他把手从托盘上移开。“好的，”他低声说，“请给我一张四点半那场电影的票。”
Dalia tears the ticket. She pushes it through the hole. He gives her the coins. His fingers are cold. He looks at her as if he wants to say more. But he only picks up his bag and goes.
达莉娅撕下票，从孔里推出去。他递给她硬币。他的手指冰凉。他看着她，好像还想说些什么。可是他只是拿起袋子走了。
Dalia watches him walk to the door. His shoulders are low. She feels a small, hard stone in her stomach.
达莉娅看着他走向大门。他的肩膀垂得很低。她觉得胃里有一块又小又硬的石头。
She tells herself it is his fault. He makes a game out of her work. He laughs at her with those dice, she thinks. Maybe it is a joke with his friends. Maybe he thinks she is just a number on a die.
她对自己说，这是他的错。他把她的工作当成了游戏。她心想，他是用那些骰子在嘲笑她。也许这是跟他朋友们开的玩笑。也许他觉得她不过是骰子上的一个数字。
But there is a problem with this idea. He never laughs. He never smiles. He always looks a little worried.
可是这个想法有个问题。他从来不笑。他从来不微笑。他看上去总是有点担心。
The film starts. The lobby becomes quiet. Dalia opens her book, but she cannot read. The words slide around the page. She keeps seeing his green scarf.
电影开始了。大厅安静下来。达莉娅翻开书，却读不进去。字在纸页上滑来滑去。她总是看见他的绿围巾。
At six o'clock, the film ends. People come out into the lobby. Some stop at her window to ask about the next show. Paolo comes out last. He walks slowly. He does not look at the booth.
六点钟，电影散场了。人们走进大厅。有些人在她的窗口停下来，问下一场的时间。保罗最后一个出来。他走得很慢。他没有看售票亭。
Dalia gets up from her stool. She opens the little side door of the booth. She never does that. The air outside the glass feels bigger.
达莉娅从凳子上站起来。她打开了售票亭的小侧门。她从来不这么做。玻璃外面的空气感觉更开阔。
"Paolo," she says.
“保罗。”她说。
He turns around. His eyes are wide, as if he expects bad news.
他转过身。他睁大了眼睛，好像在等一个坏消息。
"I'm sorry," Dalia says. "I was rude before. But I also want to ask you something. Why do you roll the dice every time? Is it a joke about me?"
“对不起，”达莉娅说，“我刚才太不礼貌了。不过我也想问你一件事。你为什么每次都要掷骰子？是在拿我开玩笑吗？”
"A joke?" Paolo says. His mouth falls open. "No! I thought you hated it."
“开玩笑？”保罗说。他张大了嘴。“不是！我还以为你很讨厌这样。”
"I hate it," says Dalia. "I think you laugh at me."
“我是讨厌，”达莉娅说，“我觉得你在笑话我。”
"Never," says Paolo. He shakes his head hard. "I thought you were angry with me because I take too long. I could not stop doing it. If I stop, it feels wrong."
“绝对没有，”保罗说。他使劲摇头。“我以为你生我的气，是因为我耽误的时间太长了。我停不下来。要是不这么做，我就觉得不对劲。”
"But why?" asks Dalia. "What are the dice for?"
“可是为什么呢？”达莉娅问，“骰子是干什么用的？”
Paolo sits down on the bench by the wall. After a moment, Dalia sits beside him. He opens the cloth bag and pours the dice into his hand.
保罗在墙边的长椅上坐下。过了一会儿，达莉娅坐到他旁边。他打开布袋，把骰子倒在手心里。
There are fourteen of them, and none of them match. One is large and wooden. One is small and blue. One has ten sides, and one has only four. One has letters on it, not numbers. One is so old that the dots are almost gone.
一共有十四颗，没有哪两颗是一样的。一颗又大又是木头的。一颗又小又是蓝色的。一颗有十个面，一颗只有四个面。一颗上面是字母，不是数字。还有一颗太旧了，上面的点几乎看不出来了。
"I can't choose," says Paolo. "Not my seat, not anything. I stand in front of the board and I wait. I always want the best seat. I never find it. Last year I missed two whole films because I could not decide."
“我不会做选择，”保罗说，“不管是座位还是别的什么。我站在座位表前面，一直等。我总想要最好的座位。我从来找不到。去年我整整错过了两场电影，因为我决定不下来。”
"So you roll the dice," says Dalia.
“所以你掷骰子。”达莉娅说。
"Yes. The dice choose my seat. If I roll a four, I sit in row four. If I roll a letter, I sit at the row end. It's not a game. It's a way to stop thinking."
“对。骰子替我选座位。掷出四点，我就坐第四排。掷出字母，我就坐在排尾。这不是游戏。这是让自己停止思考的办法。”
Dalia looks at the dice in his open hand. "Where did you find them?"
达莉娅看着他摊开的手心里的骰子。“你是在哪儿找到它们的？”
"Everywhere," says Paolo. "Each one was lost by some game. The blue one is from a flea market. The wooden one is from under a cafe chair. I like them because each one is the only one. They are all a bit wrong, but they work."
“到处都是，”保罗说，“每一颗都是从某个游戏里丢出来的。蓝色那颗是从跳蚤市场买的。木头那颗是从咖啡馆的椅子底下捡的。我喜欢它们，因为每一颗都是独一无二的。它们都有一点毛病，却都管用。”
Dalia smiles. It is the first time she smiles at him. "I'm sorry I said stop," she says.
达莉娅笑了。这是她第一次对他笑。“对不起，我让你别掷了。”她说。
"I'm sorry I never told you," says Paolo. "I do not know how to start."
“对不起，我一直没告诉你，”保罗说，“我不知道该怎么开口。”
They sit for a while. The lobby lamps hum. A cleaner starts to clean the lobby.
他们坐了一会儿。大厅的灯嗡嗡作响。一位清洁工开始打扫大厅。
"Can I try one?" Dalia asks.
“我可以试一颗吗？”达莉娅问。
Paolo gives her the small blue die. She shakes it in her hands. She drops it on the bench. It rolls and stops on a three.
保罗把那颗蓝色的小骰子递给她。她在手里摇了摇，丢在长椅上。它滚了滚，停在三点。
"Row three," says Paolo. "Next Saturday."
“第三排，”保罗说，“下个星期六。”
"Row three," says Dalia. "I will keep it for you. I will tell nobody."
“第三排，”达莉娅说，“我给你留着。我谁也不说。”
Paolo laughs. It is a soft, surprised laugh. He puts the dice back in the bag one by one. Before he closes the bag, he stops. He keeps the blue die out and puts it in her hand.
保罗笑了。那是一声轻柔而意外的笑。他把骰子一颗一颗放回袋子里。系袋子之前，他停了一下。他把那颗蓝色的骰子留了出来，放进她的手心。
"For the booth," he says. "In case someone else cannot choose."
“留给售票亭吧，”他说，“万一有别人也不会选呢。”
Then he waves and walks out into the evening street. His green scarf disappears behind the glass door.
然后他挥挥手，走进傍晚的街道。他的绿围巾消失在玻璃门后面。
Dalia goes back to her booth and closes the little side door. She sits on the stool and turns on the lamp. She puts the blue die on the metal tray, under the light.
达莉娅回到她的售票亭，关上小侧门。她坐在凳子上，打开了灯。她把那颗蓝色的骰子放在金属托盘上，放在灯光下。
It stays there until closing time. It is the smallest thing in the whole room. Light from the street sign falls across it. The three dots look like three small stars.
它一直待在那里，直到打烊。它是整间屋子里最小的东西。街上招牌的光落在它身上。那三个点，看上去像三颗小小的星星。
