Ozan sits in his taxi at the town taxi stop. He watches the empty road. There are no customers today. There are five taxis in a row and five bored drivers. Nobody wants a ride.
奥赞坐在小镇出租车站的出租车里。他望着空荡荡的马路。今天没有乘客。五辆出租车排成一排，五个无聊的司机。没有人想坐车。
It is a small town. Everything is close. People walk to the shop, to the school, to the market. A taxi is for sick people, late people and lost people. Today, nobody is any of those.
这是个小镇。什么都离得近。人们步行去商店、去学校、去集市。出租车是给病人、迟到的人和迷路的人坐的。今天，这三种人一个也没有。
"I want one long ride," Ozan says to the dashboard. "Just one. Is that too much?"
“我想要一趟长途，”奥赞对着仪表盘说，“就一趟。这要求过分吗？”
The dashboard does not answer. He opens the window and looks at the road.
仪表盘没有回答。他打开车窗，望着马路。
A woman comes around the corner. She walks fast, with both arms around a big steel pot. Soup drips from the side and leaves a line on the ground. She stops at the first taxi, then the second. Both drivers are asleep. Then she reaches Ozan's.
一个女人从拐角处走来。她走得很快，双臂抱着一只大钢锅。汤从锅边滴下来，在地上留下一道痕迹。她在第一辆出租车前停下，然后是第二辆。两个司机都睡着了。然后她走到了奥赞的车前。
"Please," she says. "I need to go to the farm road. It is forty minutes away."
“求你了，”她说，“我要去农场路。要四十分钟。”
"Get in," says Ozan. He smiles for the first time all week.
“上车吧。”奥赞说。这是他一个星期以来第一次露出笑容。
She sits in the back. The pot is hot, and she holds it on her knees. The lid is on top, but it is too small. It sits to one side, like a hat on a child.
她坐在后座。锅是烫的，她把它放在膝盖上。上面盖着盖子，可盖子太小了。它歪在一边，像孩子头上的一顶帽子。
"Is that soup?" Ozan asks.
“那是汤吗？”奥赞问。
"Yes. My name is Inge. My sister has a new baby. She has no time to cook." Inge looks at the pot. "I made enough for ten days. But the lid is wrong."
“是的。我叫英格。我妹妹刚生了孩子。她没时间做饭。”英格看着那只锅。“我做了够吃十天的量。可是盖子不对。”
"It looks wrong."
“看起来是不对。”
"I bought the pot in a market last year. The lid did not come with it. I took one from a different pot." She sighs. "On the road, the soup will go everywhere."
“这口锅是我去年在集市上买的。盖子没配上。我拿了另一口锅的盖子来。”她叹了口气。“路上，汤会洒得到处都是。”
Ozan looks at the pot in the mirror. A small wave of soup moves to the edge. He starts the engine, then turns it off again.
奥赞从后视镜里看着那口锅。一小股汤浪涌到了锅边。他发动了引擎，又把它关掉。
"One minute," he says. "Do not move."
“等一下，”他说，“别动。”
He gets out and walks to the taxi behind his. The driver is an older man with a grey cap. He puts down his newspaper.
他下了车，走向他后面那辆出租车。司机是个戴灰帽子的老人。他放下了手里的报纸。
"Do you have a lid?" Ozan asks. "A big one. Round."
“你有盖子吗？”奥赞问，“大的。圆的。”
"What kind of lid?"
“什么样的盖子？”
"For a very big pot of soup."
“盖一大锅汤的。”
The man thinks about it. Then he opens his trunk and takes out a frying pan. "This?"
那人想了想。然后他打开后备厢，拿出一只煎锅。“这个？”
Ozan carries it back. He puts it on top of the pot. It is far too small. It falls inside the soup with a loud splash.
奥赞把它拿回去。他把它放在锅上面。它小得太多了。它哗啦一声，掉进了汤里。
"That is not a lid," says Inge. She pulls it out. "That is a swimming pan."
“这不是盖子，”英格说。她把它捞出来。“这是一口游泳锅。”
Ozan laughs. He goes to the next taxi. The woman who drives it opens a plastic box.
奥赞笑了。他走向下一辆出租车。开这辆车的女人打开了一个塑料盒。
"I have a big plate," she says. "Will that work?"
“我有个大盘子，”她说，“行吗？”
It does not. The plate is flat and slides off. The soup runs over the edge, and Inge cries out. Ozan tries a basket from the third driver. The soup comes right through. The fourth driver offers a wooden board. It is too heavy and does not fit the edge.
不行。盘子是平的，滑了下去。汤漫过边沿，英格叫了起来。奥赞又试了第三个司机的一只篮子。汤直接漏了出来。第四个司机拿来一块木板。太重了，也和锅沿对不上。
Soon, all five drivers stand around Ozan's taxi. They all look at the pot like doctors.
不一会儿，五个司机都围在奥赞的出租车旁。他们像医生一样看着那口锅。
"Maybe a cloth," says one.
“也许用块布。”一个说。
"Maybe tape," says another.
“也许用胶带。”另一个说。
"Tape on soup?" Inge asks. "I do not think so."
“往汤上贴胶带？”英格问，“我觉得不行。”
The oldest driver looks at his watch. "It is almost noon. The shops close for lunch. You will find no lid in this town for two hours."
最年长的司机看了看表。“快中午了。商店都要关门吃午饭。两个小时之内，你在这镇上找不到盖子的。”
Inge lowers her face. "My sister will wait," she says. "She is very hungry."
英格低下了头。“我妹妹会等的，”她说，“她饿坏了。”
Ozan feels bad. He asked for a long ride. Now he has one, and it cannot start. He looks around the stop. His eyes move over the cars, the road, the empty benches. Then they land on the back of his own taxi.
奥赞心里难受起来。他想要一趟长途。现在有了，却出发不了。他环顾车站。他的目光扫过那些车、马路和空荡荡的长椅。然后落在了他自己那辆出租车的后面。
His left rear wheel has no cover. A round steel hubcap fell off last month. He keeps a spare cover in his trunk. It lies next to the jack. He never put it on.
他的左后轮没有罩。一个圆形的钢制轮毂盖上个月掉了。他的后备厢里放着一个备用的轮毂盖，就放在千斤顶旁边。他一直没有装上。
"Wait," he says.
“等一下。”他说。
He runs to the back and opens the trunk. He lifts out the spare hubcap. It is wide and shiny, with a tiny dent at the edge. He pours water over it from his bottle. He dries it with a clean cloth.
他跑到车后，打开后备厢。他拿出那个备用轮毂盖。它又宽又亮，边上有一个小小的凹痕。他用水瓶里的水冲了冲。又用一块干净的布擦干。
"It is a wheel cover," says the grey-cap driver. "You cannot be serious."
“那是个轮毂盖，”戴灰帽子的司机说，“你不是认真的吧。”
"It is round," Ozan says. "It is steel. It is clean."
“它是圆的，”奥赞说，“是钢的。是干净的。”
He holds it over the pot. He lowers it slowly. It touches the edge of the metal. Then it sinks down with a soft click, and sits tight.
他把它举到锅上方。慢慢放下去。它碰到了金属的边缘。然后轻轻地咔嗒一声陷了下去，严丝合缝。
Nobody speaks. The pot is closed. The soup is still.
没有人说话。锅盖住了。汤也静止了。
"It fits," Inge whispers. "It fits better than the real lid."
“合适，”英格低声说，“比真正的盖子还合适。”
"Better than any lid," says the woman with the plate.
“比任何盖子都合适。”拿盘子的女人说。
Inge tilts the pot. Nothing comes out. She shakes it a little, and still nothing. She looks at Ozan, and her eyes are bright.
英格把锅倾斜。什么也没流出来。她又晃了晃，还是什么也没有。她看着奥赞，眼睛亮晶晶的。
"Please, let me pay you for it," she says.
“请让我付你钱吧。”她说。
"No." Ozan shakes his head. "I am happy to give it. My wheel looked bad without it anyway."
“不用，”奥赞摇摇头，“我很乐意送给你。反正没有它，我的车轮也不好看。”
"But it is yours."
“可是那是你的。”
"Today, it is yours." He picks up his keys. "Besides, I asked for a long ride. You asked for a lid. Maybe the town just did us both a favor."
“今天，它是你的。”他拿起钥匙。“再说了，我想要一趟长途，你想要一个盖子。也许是小镇刚刚帮了我们俩一个忙。”
The other drivers laugh and return to their cars. They wave as Ozan pulls out of the stop. The pot stays steady on Inge's knees. The smell of the soup fills the taxi. It smells like onions and warm butter.
其他司机笑着回到了自己的车里。奥赞驶出车站时，他们挥了挥手。锅稳稳地待在英格的膝盖上。汤的香味充满了出租车。闻起来有洋葱和热黄油的味道。
The road goes out of town and into the fields. Ozan drives slowly. At each corner, he looks in the mirror. The lid does not move once.
道路驶出小镇，进入田野。奥赞开得很慢。每到一个拐角，他都看一眼后视镜。盖子一次也没有动过。
After twenty minutes, his stomach makes a loud noise. He tries to cover it with a cough. Inge hears it anyway.
二十分钟后，他的肚子发出一声很响的声音。他试图用一声咳嗽盖过去。英格还是听见了。
She smiles at the mirror. "Is somebody hungry?"
她对着后视镜微笑。“有人饿了吗？”
"A little," Ozan says. He keeps his eyes on the road. He taps the wheel. Then he asks, very softly, "Does your sister have a spoon?"
“有一点。”奥赞说。他的目光一直盯着路。他敲了敲方向盘。然后他非常轻声地问：“你妹妹有勺子吗？”
