Every morning at eight, Zahra turns on the three sewing machines in her shop, one after another, like a conductor waking an orchestra. The first is a heavy black machine that sews through leather. The second is quick and light and loves silk. The third rattles, and nobody remembers why she keeps it.
每天早上八点，扎赫拉都会把店里的三台缝纫机一台接一台打开，像指挥家唤醒一支乐队。第一台是一台沉重的黑色机器，能缝皮革。第二台又快又轻，最爱丝绸。第三台哐啷作响，没人记得她为什么还留着它。
Today Mina and Pavel are already at their places, bent over a pile of trouser hems. The radio plays a slow song from a station that is mostly static. Steam rises from the iron at the back of the room. It drifts across the narrow fitting corner, where the tall mirror turns white in seconds.
今天米娜和帕维尔已经在各自的位置上，埋头处理一堆裤脚边。收音机里播着一首慢歌，来自一个大半是杂音的电台。熨斗冒出的蒸汽从房间后面升起。它飘过狭窄的试衣角，那里的落地镜几秒钟就变白了。
That is the one flaw in the shop. The mirror fogs up whenever the iron is on, and the iron is nearly always on. Customers learn to wipe it with a sleeve before they look. Zahra has been meaning to move the mirror for six years.
这是店里唯一的缺点。熨斗一开，镜子就起雾，而熨斗几乎总是开着。顾客们学会了在照镜子之前先用袖子擦一擦。扎赫拉打算把镜子挪个地方，已经打算了六年。
"Fog again," says Mina, without looking up.
“又起雾了，”米娜头也不抬地说。
"It builds character," says Zahra.
“这是在塑造性格，”扎赫拉说。
"It builds fingerprints."
“这是在塑造指纹。”
The morning follows its usual pattern. A woman brings a coat with a torn lining. A teenager wants his school trousers taken in, and he pretends not to enjoy being measured. A bank clerk collects a jacket and tells everyone, unprompted, how well it fits. By ten o'clock the pile of finished work is growing on the rail, and the shop smells pleasantly of hot cotton.
上午像往常一样推进。一位女士拿来一件里衬撕破的大衣。一个少年想把校裤改窄，一边假装不享受被量尺寸。一位银行职员来取夹克，还没人问就告诉所有人它多么合身。到十点钟，挂衣架上完工的衣服越来越多，店里弥漫着热棉布的好闻气味。
At twenty past ten the door bangs open.
十点二十分，门砰地被推开了。
A man comes in so quickly that the bell above the door gives only half a ring. He is perhaps thirty-five, with dark hair that has been combed in a hurry and a face the colour of paper. Over one arm he carries a black suit in a clear plastic cover. In his other hand is a phone that keeps lighting up and buzzing against his palm.
一个男人冲进来，门上的铃只响了半声。他大约三十五岁，深色的头发匆忙梳过，脸色像纸一样白。他一只胳膊上搭着一套装在透明塑料袋里的黑西装。另一只手里的手机不停亮起，在他掌心里嗡嗡震动。
"Please tell me you can fix a seam," he says. "I'm so sorry. I know I should have called."
“请告诉我你们能补一道缝，”他说，“真的很抱歉。我知道我应该先打电话的。”
Zahra puts down her scissors. "Take a breath first. Then show me."
扎赫拉放下剪刀。“先喘口气。然后给我看看。”
He lays the suit on the counter. The trousers are fine, but the jacket has a long tear running down one side seam. It runs from the armpit to the hem, as if a knife had opened it.
他把西装放在柜台上。裤子没问题，但上衣一侧的侧缝裂开了长长的一道。从腋下一直裂到下摆，就像被刀划开的一样。
"Last night I was packing," he says. "The hanger caught on a hook and I pulled too hard, and then I stood there looking at it. I'm Koji. I'm presenting an award at a ceremony this evening. Live, on television. They have my face on the posters."
“昨晚我在收拾行李，”他说，“衣架挂住了一个钩子，我拽得太用力，然后我就站在那儿，盯着它。我叫浩二。今晚我要在一场典礼上颁奖。电视直播。海报上印着我的脸。”
Mina has stopped sewing. Even the radio seems quieter.
米娜已经停下了缝纫。连收音机似乎也变安静了。
"What time?" Zahra asks.
“几点？”扎赫拉问。
"I leave here at four. The car is booked. I don't have another suit that fits, and the shops in the centre wanted two days." He swallows. "I can pay anything."
“我四点从这里出发。车已经订好了。我没有别的合身的西装，市中心的店说要两天。”他咽了口唾沫。“多少钱我都付。”
Zahra studies the tear. It is clean, which helps, but the fabric is a fine wool that will punish every mistake. She looks at the clock, then at the rail of waiting orders, then at her two assistants.
扎赫拉端详着那道裂口。裂得很整齐，这有帮助，但布料是细羊毛，每个失误都会被放大。她看看钟，看看架子上等着的订单，又看看两位助手。
"Mina, put aside the hems. Pavel, finish the coat lining in the next hour and nothing else." She turns back to Koji. "I can do it, but you will wait here. It is a delicate job, and I will need to measure you again as I go. If you walk out and come back, we lose time."
“米娜，把裤脚边先放一放。帕维尔，一小时内做完那件大衣的里衬，别的都不做。”她转回身面向浩二。“我能做，但你得在这儿等。这活儿很精细，我做的过程中还得重新给你量尺寸。你要是走了再回来，我们就浪费时间。”
"I'll wait. I'll wait wherever you want."
“我等。你要我等在哪儿都行。”
"Good. Take off the jacket you are wearing and go to the mirror."
“好。脱下你身上这件外套，到镜子那边去。”
He goes to the fitting corner and stands there, tall and rigid. The white fog creeps up his reflection until only a pale outline is left. He wipes a small patch with his hand and stares at it, then lets his hand drop.
他走到试衣角，高高地、僵直地站在那里。白雾爬上他的倒影，最后只剩下一个苍白的轮廓。他用手擦出一小块，盯着看了一会儿，然后垂下了手。
"Does it always do that?" he asks.
“它总是这样吗？”他问。
"Every day. It is part of the shop."
“每天都是。它是这家店的一部分。”
"Then how does anybody know what they look like?"
“那大家怎么知道自己长什么样？”
Zahra thinks that this is a more interesting question than he realises. "They learn to trust the tailor," she says.
扎赫拉觉得，这个问题比他意识到的要有意思得多。“他们学会信任裁缝，”她说。
She works through the morning with total attention. She undoes the damaged seam stitch by stitch, matches the wool with a scrap from the inner pocket, and steams the edges so they relax. Her hands move with the quiet certainty of an old routine, and Koji watches her from a chair by the window. His phone keeps buzzing. After a while he turns it off.
整个上午她全神贯注地工作。她一针一线地拆开损坏的缝线，用内袋里的一块边角料对上羊毛，再把边缘蒸一蒸，让它们松弛下来。她的双手以一种老习惯的安静笃定动着，浩二坐在窗边的椅子上看着她。他的手机不停地震动。过了一会儿，他把它关了。
By midday the shop has found a new rhythm. Mina brings him a sandwich. Pavel, who is normally shy, asks him about the television studio and is told that it is much smaller than it looks and always freezing. The radio plays the same slow song again, and nobody changes it.
到了中午，店里找到了新的节奏。米娜给他端来一个三明治。平时害羞的帕维尔问起电视演播室的事，被告知那里比看上去小得多，而且总是冷得要命。收音机又放起了同一首慢歌，没人去换。
At two o'clock Zahra begins the final seam on the fastest machine. The needle chatters. Koji stands up without thinking and comes to stand behind her shoulder.
两点钟，扎赫拉在最快的那台机器上开始缝最后一道缝。针头嗒嗒作响。浩二不假思索地站起来，走到她肩后。
"Can I ask something?" he says. "Why does your work look so calm? I've been so frightened all day that I can't feel my fingers."
“我能问个问题吗？”他说，“为什么你的活儿看起来那么平静？我整天都害怕得手指都没知觉了。”
"I am frightened as well," says Zahra, not looking up. "I am always frightened for the first minute. After that there is only the seam."
“我也害怕，”扎赫拉头也不抬地说，“头一分钟我总是害怕。过了那一分钟，就只剩下这道缝了。”
"The first minute of what?"
“什么的头一分钟？”
"Of anything that matters."
“任何重要的事。”
He laughs under his breath and says nothing more.
他低声笑了笑，没有再说什么。
At a quarter to four she cuts the last thread. She holds the jacket up, turns it slowly under the light, and runs her thumb down the repaired line. From the inside you can still see it; from the outside, the black wool lies flat and quiet, and there is nothing to find.
三点四十五分，她剪断了最后一根线。她把上衣举起来，在灯下慢慢转动，用拇指沿着修补过的线抚过。从里面还看得出来；从外面看，黑色的羊毛平整而安静，什么也找不出来。
Koji puts it on. He walks to the mirror, and for the first time that day it is almost clear, because the iron has been off for twenty minutes. He turns one way, then the other. His reflection straightens, as if the jacket has pulled him up by the shoulders.
浩二穿上它。他走到镜子前，这是一天里第一次，镜子几乎是清晰的，因为熨斗已经关了二十分钟。他转向一边，又转向另一边。他的倒影挺直了，仿佛上衣揪着他的肩膀把他提了起来。
"It is perfect," he says. "I cannot see anything."
“太完美了，”他说，“我什么都看不出来。”
"You are not supposed to." Zahra brushes a thread from his collar. "That is the whole job."
“本来就不该看出来。”扎赫拉从他的衣领上拂掉一根线头。“这就是全部的活儿。”
He pays her, and then pays her again until she pushes the extra notes back across the counter. Mina and Pavel clap, rather shyly, and Koji bows to them in the doorway with his hand on his heart. The car is waiting at the kerb with its engine running.
他付了钱，又多付了一次，直到她把多的钞票推回柜台对面。米娜和帕维尔有些羞涩地鼓起掌来，浩二在门口手按胸口向他们鞠躬。车正停在路边，引擎还开着。
At the last moment he looks back at the mirror. Behind him, the iron clicks on, and a pale mist starts to creep across the glass again.
最后一刻，他回头看了看镜子。他身后，熨斗咔哒一声打开，一层淡淡的雾气又开始在玻璃上爬行。
"You should never fix that mirror," he says. "I looked better in the fog."
“你永远别修那面镜子，”他说，“我在雾里看起来更好。”
