The Larkspur Hostel had one rule that nobody could explain. A hand-painted sign in the common room said, "Please leave the green bag where it is." The bag was big and old, with a leather handle and a zip that would not move.
飞燕草青年旅舍有一条谁也解释不清的规矩。公共休息室里挂着一块手绘的牌子，写着：“请把绿色的包放在原处。”那只包又大又旧，有一个皮把手，拉链怎么也拉不动。
Uri saw the sign on his first evening. He was sixteen, and he had come with five classmates on a walking trip. Their teacher had gone to bed early. The others were playing cards at the long table. Uri sat by the window with a bowl of noodles and watched the room.
乌里第一天晚上就看到了那块牌子。他十六岁，跟五个同学一起来徒步旅行。老师早早睡下了。其他人在长桌边打牌。乌里坐在窗边，捧着一碗面条，观察着整间屋子。
It took him less than ten minutes to notice the pattern. Every guest who walked past the bag stopped and looked at it. Then they bent down and pulled the zip. A tall man in walking boots pulled it with both hands. Two girls pulled it together and giggled. A boy tried to open it with a spoon. The zip never moved, and everyone shrugged and went away.
不到十分钟，他就发现了规律。每个路过那只包的客人，都会停下来看看它。然后弯下腰去拉拉链。一个穿登山靴的高个子男人用双手去拉。两个女孩一起拉，一边咯咯地笑。一个男孩想用勺子撬开它。拉链始终纹丝不动，每个人都耸耸肩走开了。
"Does that happen every night?" Uri asked the boy behind the reception desk.
“每天晚上都这样吗？”乌里问前台后面的男孩。
The boy was about seventeen, with ink on his fingers and a name tag that said Adel. "Every night," he said. "My family has owned this place for twelve years. The bag came with the building."
那个男孩大约十七岁，手指上沾着墨水，胸牌上写着阿德尔。“每天晚上，”他说，“我家开这个旅舍十二年了。这只包是跟房子一起来的。”
"Did anyone ever open it?"
“有人打开过吗？”
"Not once. Some people bring pliers." Adel shrugged. "It is only a bag."
“一次也没有。有些人还带来了钳子。”阿德尔耸耸肩。“不过是个包而已。”
Uri went to bed in a room with five bunks and slept badly. Around midnight, he woke up thirsty and crept downstairs to fill his bottle. The common room was dark, except for the small lamp on the reception desk. Adel was asleep in a chair with a book on his chest.
乌里回到有五张上下铺的房间睡觉，睡得很不踏实。半夜里他渴醒了，蹑手蹑脚下楼去灌水壶。休息室里一片漆黑，只有前台上那盏小灯亮着。阿德尔坐在椅子上睡着了，胸口压着一本书。
Uri stopped on the bottom step. Something was wrong. Earlier that evening, the bag had stood beside the fireplace. Now it stood in the middle of the floor, a full two metres closer to the front door.
乌里在最后一级台阶上停住了。有些不对劲。那天傍晚，包还立在壁炉旁边。现在它却在屋子正中央，离前门足足近了两米。
He looked down. A thin line of dust ran across the boards, as if the bag had been dragged. Then he heard it: a tiny scrape, followed by a pause. The bag moved another hand's width toward the door. Then it stopped, as if it knew that someone was watching.
他低头看去。地板上有一道细细的灰尘痕迹，像是被拖过一样。然后他听到了：一声极轻的刮擦声，接着是一阵停顿。包朝门口又挪了一掌宽。然后它停住了，仿佛知道有人在看着它。
Uri did not scream. He was too surprised. He walked slowly to the desk and shook Adel's shoulder.
乌里没有尖叫。他太吃惊了。他慢慢走到前台，摇了摇阿德尔的肩膀。
"Your bag is walking," he whispered.
“你们的包在走路，”他小声说。
Adel opened one eye. "Yes, I know." He sat up and rubbed his face. "It does that every night, a little at a time. Every morning I push it back to the fireplace. I have done it since spring."
阿德尔睁开一只眼睛。“对，我知道。”他坐起来，揉了揉脸。“它每天晚上都这样，一点一点地挪。每天早上我都把它推回壁炉边。从春天起我就一直在这么干。”
"You have done what?" Uri stared at him. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"
“你干了什么？”乌里瞪着他。“你为什么不告诉别人？”
"Nobody asks me anything," Adel said. "Guests ask how to open it, and they never ask why it moves. Honestly, I stopped expecting a question."
“没人问过我，”阿德尔说，“客人只问怎么打开它，从来不问它为什么会动。说实话，我已经不指望有人问了。”
They both looked at the bag. It sat very still, like a dog waiting for its owner.
他们俩都看向那只包。它一动不动，像一条等着主人的狗。
"Maybe that is the problem," Uri said slowly. "Everybody tries to open it. Nobody asks what it wants."
“也许问题就在这儿，”乌里慢慢地说，“人人都想打开它，没人问它想要什么。”
Adel laughed, but it was a short laugh. "You want me to talk to a bag?"
阿德尔笑了，但只是短促的一声。“你要我对着一只包说话？”
"You have already been pushing it for months. Talking cannot be stranger than that."
“你都已经推了它好几个月了。说话总不会比这更奇怪。”
Adel looked at the floor. Then he stood up, crossed the room, and crouched in front of the bag. He cleared his throat twice. "Excuse me," he said, in a very small voice. "Where are you trying to go?"
阿德尔低头看着地板。然后他站起身，穿过屋子，蹲到那只包面前。他清了两次嗓子。“打扰一下，”他用很小的声音说，“你想去哪儿？”
Nothing happened. Uri held his breath. A clock ticked somewhere above them, and the old building creaked.
什么也没发生。乌里屏住呼吸。头顶某处，一只钟在滴答作响，老房子吱呀吱呀地响。
"Maybe it needs somebody who has never pulled the zip," Adel said. He stood up and stepped back. "You try."
“也许得换个从没拉过拉链的人，”阿德尔说。他站起来，退后一步。“你来试试。”
Uri knelt down. The leather felt warm, and it smelled of dust and pine needles. He thought about all the people who had pulled at the zip, one after another. They had been so sure that the problem was the lock and not the question.
乌里跪了下来。皮子摸上去是温的，闻起来有灰尘和松针的味道。他想起了所有那些一个接一个拉拉链的人。他们都那样确信，问题出在锁上，而不是出在问法上。
"I'm sorry nobody asked you before," he said. "Where do you want to go?"
“很抱歉以前没人问过你，”他说，“你想去哪儿？”
The zip gave a tiny click. Then, slowly, it slid open by itself, all the way around the bag. A soft smell of forest air rose into the room. Inside there were no clothes and no books. There was a small brass lantern with a bell on its handle. There was a folded paper. There was also a very old pair of walking boots, worn thin at the heels.
拉链发出轻轻的一声“咔”。然后，它自己慢慢滑开了，绕着包拉了一整圈。一股淡淡的森林空气的气味飘进了屋里。里面没有衣服，也没有书。只有一盏小小的黄铜灯笼，把手上系着一只铃铛，一张折起来的纸，还有一双非常旧的登山靴，鞋跟都磨薄了。
Uri unfolded the paper. The writing was careful and slanted. "I am a traveller's bag," he read aloud. "My owner left me here while he went to look for the way home. He never came back, and I have been waiting for somebody to ask where I want to go. I want to go to the stone bridge at the top of the hill. Please carry me there, and please ring its bell once."
乌里展开那张纸。字迹工整而倾斜。“我是一只旅人的包，”他大声念道，“我的主人把我留在这里，自己去找回家的路。他再也没回来，我一直在等有人来问我想去哪里。我想去山顶的石桥。请把我带到那里，并请摇一下它的铃。”
"The stone bridge," Adel repeated. "That is half an hour from here. In the dark."
“石桥，”阿德尔重复了一遍，“离这里有半个小时的路。还是在黑夜里。”
"Then we should take warm coats," Uri said. "Two pairs of boots, and one bag."
“那我们就该穿上暖和的外套，”乌里说，“两双靴子，一只包。”
"Three pairs, if you count these." Adel pointed at the old boots. He was smiling now, and the smile made him look much younger. "I have to leave a note for my parents."
“要是算上这双，就是三双，”阿德尔指着那双旧靴子。他现在笑了，那笑容让他显得年轻了许多。“我得给我爸妈留张字条。”
They crept out of the front door with the bag between them. Its weight was strange, heavy and light at the same time. As soon as they stepped onto the road, the bag seemed to know the way. It tugged gently to the left, and then again to the right, like a dog on a lead.
他们抬着包，蹑手蹑脚地走出了前门。它的分量很奇怪，既沉又轻。一踏上大路，那只包仿佛就认得路了。它轻轻往左拽一下，又往右拽一下，像一条牵在绳子上的狗。
The path climbed through dark trees. Neither of them spoke for a long time. Nothing in the world sounded as loud as their own footsteps. At last, the trees opened, and the old stone bridge stood against the stars.
小路穿过漆黑的树林向上攀升。他们俩好久都没有说话。世上再没有什么声音比他们自己的脚步声更响。最后，树木豁然开朗，古老的石桥衬着满天繁星矗立在眼前。
Uri lifted the lantern from the bag. It lit by itself, with a calm yellow light. He rang the little bell once, as the note had asked. The sound was clear and long, and it did not end like a normal sound. It kept running down the hill and over the valley. It seemed to reach the edge of the sky.
乌里从包里取出灯笼。它自己亮了起来，发出平静的黄光。他按照字条上的要求，摇了一下小铃铛。那声音清澈而悠长，却不像寻常的声音那样终结。它一直顺着山坡跑下去，越过山谷，仿佛传到了天边。
From the other side of the bridge, something answered. It was a second bell, much farther away. Then a third rang, and a fourth, a whole line of them, getting nearer.
桥的另一边，有什么回应了。那是第二只铃铛，在远得多的地方。接着第三只响了，然后是第四只，整整一排铃声，越来越近。
The bag shivered. Slowly, the empty walking boots rose out of it. They stood on the bridge, side by side, as if someone invisible had stepped into them. The lantern went out. A warm breath of air passed between the boys. The boots walked away over the stones, one heavy step at a time, into the dark.
包颤抖起来。空空的登山靴慢慢从里面升了起来。它们并排立在桥上，仿佛有一个看不见的人穿上了它们。灯笼熄灭了。一股温暖的气息从两个男孩之间拂过。靴子踏着石头向远处走去，一步一步，沉重地走进了黑暗。
For a long moment, Uri could not move. The bag lay open on the ground, light as a leaf, and its leather handle had gone soft.
很长一段时间里，乌里一动也不能动。包敞着躺在地上，轻得像一片叶子，皮把手也变软了。
"Well," Adel said at last. His voice shook. "I think we just did something important."
“嗯，”阿德尔终于开了口，声音在发抖，“我想我们刚刚做了一件重要的事。”
"I think so too." Uri picked up the empty bag and put it carefully over his shoulder. "Do you think it is finished?"
“我也这么想。”乌里拾起空包，小心地搭在肩上。“你觉得结束了吗？”
Adel did not answer at once. He was looking down the hill, where a faint light was moving along the road. It was small and yellow, and it was coming toward the hostel. "No," he said. "I think it only wanted somebody to ask the first question. Come on, Uri. Somebody has to ask the next one."
阿德尔没有马上回答。他正望着山下，一缕微弱的光沿着大路移动。它小小的，黄黄的，正朝着旅舍而来。“没有，”他说，“我想它只是需要有人问出第一个问题。走吧，乌里。总得有人问下一个。”
