The wall clock in the building site canteen fell off its nail at half past seven. It hit the floor, spun twice and lost both its hands. Nobody was sad about it. The clock had been wrong for years.
工地食堂墙上的挂钟在七点半从钉子上掉了下来。它砸在地上，转了两圈，两根指针都掉了。没人为此难过。这口钟早就走错好几年了。
Neha was the new apprentice joiner, and she had been on the site for just two weeks. The foreman gave her a simple job. She had to find something to hang in the gap. Forty workers needed to see when their break ended.
妮哈是新来的木工学徒，上工地才两个星期。工头给了她一件简单的活儿：找个东西挂在那个空位上。四十名工人得看得到休息什么时候结束。
She went to the salvage shed behind the cabins. It was full of things the crew had saved from the old cinema they were pulling down. There were brass door handles, torn velvet seats and a box of dusty light bulbs. At the bottom of a crate, wrapped in a cinema curtain, she found a round clock.
她去了小屋后面的废旧物资棚。里面堆满了工人们从正在拆除的老电影院里抢救出来的东西：黄铜门把手、破了的天鹅绒座椅，还有一箱落满灰的灯泡。在一个板条箱的最底下，她发现了一口用电影院幕布包着的圆钟。
It was heavy and beautiful. The case was dark wood, and the glass was clean. But the face was completely empty. There were no numbers, no marks and no hands at all. And yet, when she held it to her ear, it ticked.
它又重又漂亮。钟壳是深色的木头，玻璃擦得很干净。可是钟面完全是空的。没有数字，没有刻度，根本没有指针。然而，当她把它贴到耳边，它居然在滴答作响。
"It works," she said to nobody.
“它是能走的，”她对着空气说。
She carried it to the canteen and found Kai, who helped the cook on weekdays. Kai was seventeen, and he spent most mornings stirring a pot that was bigger than he was.
她把钟抱到食堂，找到了凯，他平时在工作日给厨师打下手。凯十七岁，大多数早晨都在搅一口比他个子还大的锅。
"That is the strangest clock I have ever seen," he said. "How do you read it?"
“这是我见过的最奇怪的钟，”他说。“怎么看时间啊？”
"I do not think you do," said Neha. "But it is better than a hole in the wall."
“我觉得没法看，”妮哈说。“不过总比墙上留个窟窿强。”
She hung it on the nail and stepped back. The ticking filled the room, slow and deep, like a heartbeat in a very large animal. Kai shrugged and went back to his soup.
她把钟挂到钉子上，往后退了一步。滴答声充满了整间屋子，缓慢而低沉，像一头巨大动物的心跳。凯耸耸肩，又回去看他的汤了。
At ten o'clock, the cook left to collect the delivery, and Kai was alone. He had started the lentil soup early. The pot sat on the biggest flame, and the flame was as high as it could go. By eleven, the pot should have been bubbling. It was not.
十点钟，厨师出去收货，凯一个人留在食堂。他很早就开始煮扁豆汤了。锅放在最大的灶眼上，火开到了最旺。到十一点，锅里本该翻滚冒泡。可它没有。
By half past eleven, the soup was only warm. Kai put his hand over the pot, and then he took it away again, puzzled. The steam rose very, very slowly. It curled up from the surface like smoke in a dream. Then it hung above the cooker.
到十一点半，汤只是温的。凯把手悬在锅上，又疑惑地缩了回来。蒸汽升得非常、非常慢。它像梦里的烟一样，从汤面上缓缓卷起，然后就悬停在灶台上方。
Neha came in at a quarter to twelve for a drink of water. She stopped in the doorway.
十一点四十五分，妮哈进来喝水。她在门口停住了。
"Why is it so quiet in here?" she asked.
“这儿怎么这么安静？”她问。
"I don't know," said Kai. "But my soup has not boiled, and the break starts in fifteen minutes."
“我不知道，”凯说。“可我的汤还没开，休息十五分钟后就开始了。”
"Fifteen minutes by whose watch?" asked Neha. She looked at the clock, and the ticking seemed to answer her.
“十五分钟，按谁的表算？”妮哈问。她看着那口钟，滴答声仿佛在回答她。
Kai picked up a wooden spoon from the counter. For a joke, he let it go. It did not drop. It sank toward the floor so slowly that he could have read the tiny letters on its handle. Neha watched it with her mouth open.
凯从台子上拿起一把木勺。为了开个玩笑，他松开了手。勺子没有掉下去。它朝地面下沉得那么慢，慢到他能读清勺柄上的小字。妮哈张着嘴看着它。
"Did you do that?" she whispered.
“是你弄的吗？”她小声问。
"I just let go," said Kai.
“我只是松了手，”凯说。
They stared at each other. Outside the window, they could hear the usual noise of the site. The cement mixer turned, and a man shouted about a ladder. Inside, everything moved like honey. A fly floated by the window and seemed to forget how to fly.
他们面面相觑。窗外，他们能听到工地平常的嘈杂声。水泥搅拌机在转，有人在为一架梯子大声嚷嚷。屋里，一切都像蜂蜜一样缓缓流动。一只苍蝇从窗边飘过，似乎忘记了怎么飞。
"The clock," said Neha slowly. "The ticking is slower than my pulse. What if it is slowing down the room?"
“那口钟，”妮哈缓缓地说。“它的滴答比我的脉搏还慢。会不会是它把整间屋子拖慢了？”
Kai laughed, but it was a nervous laugh. "Time does not slow down in canteens."
凯笑了，但那是紧张的笑。“时间不会在食堂里变慢的。”
"Then explain the spoon," said Neha.
“那你解释一下那把勺子，”妮哈说。
He could not. The spoon was still falling.
他解释不了。勺子还在往下掉。
The workers began to arrive at five to twelve, the way they always did. They came in loud and hungry, with dust on their boots. Within seconds, they went quiet. Some of them blinked, and some looked at their watches. A man in a yellow helmet said that the door felt heavier than usual.
工人们在十二点差五分开始陆续到来，和平时一样。他们嚷嚷着、饿着肚子冲进来，靴子上沾着灰。几秒钟之内，他们就安静了下来。有些人眨了眨眼，有些人看了看自己的手表。一个戴黄色安全帽的男人说，今天这扇门感觉比平时重。
"Lunch is not ready," Kai announced. His voice came out higher than he wanted. "Give me a minute."
“午饭还没好，”凯宣布道。他的声音比他想的要尖。“给我一分钟。”
"We only have thirty," said the foreman from the doorway. "You know that."
“我们只有三十分钟，”工头在门口说。“你知道的。”
Kai looked at the soup. Neha looked at the clock. A very clear idea arrived, the way a nail finds its place when you stop pushing.
凯看着汤。妮哈看着钟。一个非常清晰的念头出现了，就像你停止用力时，钉子自己找到了位置。
"If the clock is the problem," she said, "then the answer is simple. We take it out."
“如果问题出在钟上，”她说，“那答案很简单。把它拿走。”
She dragged a chair to the wall and stood on it. The clock was warm now, almost like a living thing. She lifted it off its nail with both hands. The ticking changed at once and became faster and lighter. The sound of the room snapped back around her.
她把一把椅子拖到墙边，站了上去。钟现在是温热的，几乎像个活物。她用双手把它从钉子上取了下来。滴答声立刻变了，变得更快、更轻。屋里的声音一下子又弹回了她身边。
Kai's spoon hit the floor with a clatter. The fly shot out of the window. The soup gave a great, rolling bubble. A cloud of steam rose from the pot and filled the kitchen with the smell of garlic.
凯的勺子哐当一声掉在地上。苍蝇嗖地飞出了窗外。汤猛地翻起一个大大的气泡。一团蒸汽从锅里升起，让整个厨房充满了大蒜的香味。
"Right," said the foreman, who had not noticed anything strange. "Now we're talking."
“好了，”工头说，他一点也没注意到有什么异样。“这才对劲。”
Neha carried the clock out through the back door and across the yard. She did not know where to put it. In the end, she hung it on the wire fence beside the window. It looked lost there, a dark wooden circle against the grey mesh and the bright, empty sky.
妮哈抱着钟穿过后门，走过院子。她不知道该把它放哪儿。最后，她把它挂在了窗边的铁丝网围栏上。它挂在那里显得孤零零的，一个深色的木头圆盘，衬着灰色的网眼和明亮空荡的天空。
Behind her, the canteen came alive. Trays banged, chairs scraped, and somebody asked for more rice. Kai ladled out soup as fast as he could. He passed Neha a bowl through the open window without a word. She ate it standing in the yard, with the clock ticking beside her.
她身后，食堂活了过来。托盘碰响，椅子刮地，有人要添米饭。凯尽可能快地舀着汤。他一言不发，透过敞开的窗户递给妮哈一碗。她站在院子里吃了，钟就在她身旁滴答作响。
The break lasted exactly thirty minutes. For once, nobody ran late.
休息时间恰好持续了三十分钟。这一回，没有人迟到。
When the afternoon shift began, the workers went back to the cranes and the scaffolding. Neha helped Kai clean the pots, and they washed up in a tired silence. At last Kai dried his hands and leaned on the sink.
下午班开始时，工人们回到了起重机和脚手架上。妮哈帮凯刷锅，他们在疲惫的沉默中洗着。最后，凯擦干了手，靠在水槽边。
"We cannot tell anyone about this," he said.
“我们不能告诉任何人这件事，”他说。
"They would not believe us," said Neha.
“他们不会信的，”妮哈说。
"Maybe we can use it," said Kai. "A clock that slows time. Imagine what it could do on Friday afternoons."
“也许我们可以利用它，”凯说。“一口能让时间变慢的钟。想想它在星期五下午能干什么。”
"Or on a Monday morning," said Neha, and she smiled for the first time all day.
“或者星期一早上，”妮哈说，这一天里，她第一次笑了。
They left it on the fence for the rest of the afternoon, to be safe. At five o'clock, the site went silent, and the crew drove home in their dusty vans. The foreman locked the gate. Neha and Kai stayed behind to turn off the last lights.
为了保险起见，他们让它在围栏上待了一下午。五点钟，工地安静下来，工人们开着满是灰尘的货车回家了。工头锁上了大门。妮哈和凯留下来关掉最后几盏灯。
The sun was low and gold when they stood in the yard. The fence cast long shadows across the gravel, and the cranes stood still above the empty building. The handless clock hung on its wire, ticking slowly in the evening air.
他们站在院子里时，太阳低垂，金灿灿的。围栏在碎石地上投下长长的影子，起重机静静地立在空荡荡的楼房上方。那口没有指针的钟挂在铁丝上，在傍晚的空气里缓缓地滴答作响。
A swallow flew past the canteen window. For a moment, it seemed to stay in the air a little longer than it should. Then it passed over the roof and was gone.
一只燕子从食堂窗外飞过。有那么一刻，它似乎在空中多停留了一会儿，比它应有的时间长了一点。然后它越过屋顶，消失了。
Neha watched it go. Beside her, the clock kept its own quiet time, and the long day seemed to rest.
妮哈目送它离去。她身旁，那口钟守着它自己安静的时间，漫长的一天仿佛也歇息了下来。
