The Moon Ball on the Noodle Roof

Every night, the market on Lantern Row wakes up the same way. At the stroke of midnight, a glass ball the size of a melon is set into a stone cradle beside the fountain. Every lamp along the food row lights at once. The ball is called the Moon Ball. It has been carried from the lamp-keeper's house to the fountain by a young helper for as long as anyone can remember.

每天夜里，灯笼街的集市总是以同样的方式醒来。午夜钟声敲响的那一刻，一只甜瓜大小的玻璃球被安放在喷泉边的石座上。美食街沿线的每一盏灯同时亮起。那只球叫作“月亮球”。从有人记事起，它就一直由一位年轻的帮手从守灯人的屋子捧到喷泉边。

This month, the helper is Joost. He is fifteen, he is proud of the job, and he is also a little bored by it.

这个月，那位帮手是约斯特。他十五岁，对这份差事感到自豪，同时也有一点厌倦。

Tonight he walks down the row at a quarter to midnight with the ball cradled in both arms. It hums softly and gives off a pale glow, and it weighs almost nothing. The cooks greet him as he passes. Steam rises from dumpling baskets, oil spits in the woks, and the smell of grilled spice hangs in the air.

今晚，他在午夜前一刻钟沿着街走下来，双臂捧着那只球。它轻轻嗡鸣，散发出淡淡的光，几乎没有分量。厨子们在他经过时向他问好。蒸笼里冒着热气，炒锅里的油噼啪作响，烤香料的气味弥漫在空气中。

Lia, who runs messages for the stall owners, falls into step beside him. "You are early," she says. "Usually you arrive with two minutes to spare."

莉娅是替摊主们跑腿传话的，她和他并肩走起来。“你来早了，”她说，“你通常是掐着最后两分钟才到的。”

"I am a changed man," Joost says. Then he sees a group of children watching him from the steps of the noodle stall, and the old urge to show off takes over.

“我是改过自新的人了，”约斯特说。然后他看见一群孩子正在面摊的台阶上看着他，那股爱表现的老毛病又占了上风。

"Watch this," he whispers. He tosses the ball up and bounces it once off his knee.

“看着，”他小声说。他把球抛起来，用膝盖顶了一下。

"Joost, don't," Lia says.

“约斯特，别，”莉娅说。

It is too late. The ball spins higher than he intended, hits the edge of the noodle stall's tiled roof and rolls up the slope. It comes to rest behind the painted sign at the very top, where the roof tiles meet in a ridge. It sits there, glowing gently, as if it enjoys the view.

已经来不及了。球转得比他预想的高，撞上面摊瓦屋顶的边缘，沿着斜坡滚了上去。它停在最顶上的彩绘招牌后面，在瓦片相接的屋脊处。它待在那里，柔和地发着光，仿佛很享受那里的风景。

For a moment, neither of them speaks. The children on the steps go quiet.

有那么一会儿，两人谁也没有说话。台阶上的孩子们安静了下来。

"What time is it?" Joost asks at last.

“几点了？”约斯特终于问。

Lia checks the clock above the spice seller's door. "Nine minutes to midnight," she says. "If the Moon Ball is not in the cradle when the bell rings, the lamps stay dark."

莉娅看了看香料商门上的钟。“差九分钟午夜，”她说，“要是钟响的时候月亮球不在石座上，灯就不会亮。”

"For tonight?"

“只是今晚吗？”

"For the whole month. That is the rule. The market would have to close until the next full moon." She stares at the roof. "Every cook on this street would lose a month of work because you wanted to look clever."

“整整一个月。这是规矩。集市得关门，直到下一个满月。”她盯着屋顶。“这条街上每一个厨子都会损失一个月的收入，只因为你想显得聪明。”

Joost does not argue. He is already counting. The fountain is at the far end of the row, and the row is two hundred paces long. On a quiet night, the walk takes five minutes. At midnight on a busy Saturday, with a crowd packed shoulder to shoulder between the stalls, it takes twice as long.

约斯特没有争辩。他已经在算了。喷泉在街的另一头，这条街有两百步长。平静的夜晚，走过去要五分钟。在忙碌的星期六午夜，摊位之间挤满了摩肩接踵的人群，要花两倍的时间。

"We cannot carry it through that," he says. "If we ran, we would be stopped by the first big family with a pushchair."

“我们没法抱着它穿过去，”他说，“要是跑起来，第一个推着婴儿车的大家庭就会把我们拦住。”

"Then we have to be quicker than walking," Lia says.

“那我们就得比走路快，”莉娅说。

First, though, they have to get the ball down. Joost climbs onto a stack of crates beside the noodle stall. The cook, a round woman with strong forearms, hands him a long wooden ladle without being asked. He stretches up and taps the ball with the end of it. It wobbles, but it does not come down. He taps again, a little harder.

不过，首先得把球弄下来。约斯特爬上面摊旁边的一摞板条箱。厨子是一个身材圆润、前臂有力的女人，没等他开口就递给他一把长木勺。他伸长身子，用勺子的末端轻轻碰了碰球。球晃了晃，却没有下来。他又碰了一下，稍微用力了些。

"Gently," Lia calls. "It is not a drum."

“轻点，”莉娅喊道，“又不是鼓。”

The ball rolls two hand-widths along the ridge and tumbles off the back of the roof. Joost feels his stomach drop. Then he hears a rattling sound and a high, bright hum, and he realises that the ball has not fallen to the ground at all.

球沿着屋脊滚了两个手掌宽的距离，从屋顶后面翻了下去。约斯特觉得胃一下子沉了下去。接着他听到了哗啦哗啦的声音，还有一阵高亢清亮的嗡鸣，他才明白球根本没有掉到地上。

Behind the stalls, a long tin trough runs along the back wall of the whole food row. The cooks use it to carry wash water away from their pots. It is built to slope gently downhill, from the first stall to the last. The Moon Ball has landed in it and is rolling.

在摊位后面，一条长长的铁皮水槽沿着整条美食街的后墙延伸。厨子们用它把洗锅的水排走。它修成了缓缓的下坡，从第一个摊位通到最后一个。月亮球落进了槽里，正在往下滚。

"Lia!" Joost shouts. "Look at it go!"

“莉娅！”约斯特喊道，“看它跑！”

Lia looks. She watches the glow slide past the first stove, the second stove and the cluster of steaming barrels. Then she grins, and she grabs Joost by the sleeve.

莉娅看过去。她望着那团光滑过第一个炉子、第二个炉子，又滑过那一堆冒着热气的木桶。然后她咧嘴一笑，一把抓住约斯特的袖子。

"The trough ends at the fountain," she says. "I have seen the cooks tip their buckets into it a hundred times. Everything that goes in at this end comes out at the other."

“水槽通到喷泉那儿，”她说，“我见过厨子们往里倒桶里的水不知多少回。从这一头倒进去的东西，都会从另一头出来。”

"So we do not carry it," Joost says slowly. "We follow it."

“所以我们不用抱着它，”约斯特慢慢地说，“我们跟着它。”

They run. There is a narrow service lane behind the stalls, hardly wide enough for one person. It is full of crates and sleeping cats. Lia leads, because she knows every turn of it from her errands. Joost follows with his eyes fixed on the little light skimming along the tin beside them.

他们跑了起来。摊位后面有一条狭窄的服务小巷，勉强容得下一个人。里面堆满了板条箱，睡着几只猫。莉娅在前面带路，因为她跑腿时对这里的每一个转弯都了如指掌。约斯特跟在后面，眼睛盯着身旁铁皮上掠过的那点小小的光。

The ball is faster than they expected. It hums louder as it gains speed, and it throws a moving shadow across the wall. A cook hanging washing on a line looks up and drops a shirt. A boy carrying a tray of fruit sticks flattens himself against the wall to let them pass.

球比他们预想的快。它加速时嗡鸣声越来越响，在墙上投下一道移动的影子。一个正在绳子上晾衣服的厨子抬起头，掉了一件衬衫。一个端着水果串托盘的男孩把身子贴紧墙壁，让他们跑过去。

"Ten stalls," Lia gasps. "We are halfway."

“十个摊位，”莉娅喘着气说，“我们跑了一半了。”

"What time?" Joost asks.

“几点了？”约斯特问。

"I cannot look at a clock and run at the same time!"

“我不能一边看钟一边跑！”

Then the trough bends. At the corner behind the pickle seller, the old tin has been patched with a pot lid. The join sticks up like a small step. The ball strikes it, jumps, and lands on the wrong side. It rolls off the trough and bounces across the cobbles of the lane.

然后水槽拐了个弯。在腌菜摊后面的拐角处，旧铁皮被一个锅盖补过。接缝处翘起来，像一级小台阶。球撞上去，跳了起来，落到了错误的一侧。它滚出水槽，在小巷的鹅卵石上弹跳着。

Joost dives and misses. Lia steps over a basket, scoops the ball out of the air with both hands and stumbles into the wall, laughing and out of breath.

约斯特扑过去，没抓住。莉娅跨过一只篮子，双手把球从半空中捞了起来，跌跌撞撞地撞在墙上，又笑又喘。

"Got it," she says. "Now we are carrying it, so we are slow again."

“抓住了，”她说，“可现在我们得抱着它，又慢下来了。”

"Not necessarily." Joost points past her shoulder. Beyond the end of the lane, the food row meets the square, and the fountain is plainly visible. The cradle is a pale shape against the dark water. The crowd is thick around it, because everyone is waiting for the lamps.

“不一定。”约斯特指向她的肩后。小巷尽头，美食街连接着广场，喷泉清清楚楚地看得见。石座在黑色的水面前是一个淡淡的轮廓。石座周围人群密集，因为大家都在等灯亮。

"We cannot cross that," Lia says. "Nobody will move until the lamps are lit."

“我们过不去的，”莉娅说，“灯没亮之前，没有人会让路。”

"Then we must reach it without pushing through everyone." Joost thinks for a second. "Who sets the lamps in the first place?"

“那我们得想办法不挤过人群就到那里。”约斯特想了一秒钟。“最初是谁点灯的？”

"The lamp-keeper," Lia says. "He waits on the wall behind the cradle, with the long taper."

“守灯人，”莉娅说，“他拿着长引火杆，等在石座后面的矮墙上。”

"And that wall has a stair at the back," Joost says. "I use it every night."

“那堵墙后面有个楼梯，”约斯特说，“我每天晚上都用。”

They go around behind the fountain, up the narrow stair and onto the low wall. From above, the whole square looks like a field of upturned faces. The lamp-keeper, a tall man with a taper in his hand, stares at them with his mouth open. Somewhere below, a bell begins to swing.

他们绕到喷泉后面，爬上窄窄的楼梯，登上矮墙。从上面看，整个广场像一片仰起脸的田野。守灯人是一个高个子男人，手里拿着引火杆，张大了嘴盯着他们。下面某个地方，钟开始摆动了。

"Joost!" the lamp-keeper hisses. "The ball!"

“约斯特！”守灯人压低声音喊道，“球！”

Joost takes it from Lia, leans over the cradle and lowers it into the stone hollow with both hands. It settles with a deep, soft chime, like a note from a bowl. For one long heartbeat, nothing happens.

约斯特从莉娅手里接过球，俯身到石座上方，双手把它放进石头凹槽里。它落定时发出一声低沉柔和的鸣响，像一只钵发出的音。有那么漫长的一次心跳，什么也没有发生。

Then, all along the food row, two hundred lamps wake together. The street rises out of the darkness in gold and amber, and the crowd gasps and cheers. The first stroke of midnight is still ringing in the air.

然后，整条美食街上，两百盏灯一起醒了。街道从黑暗中浮现出来，一片金色与琥珀色，人群倒吸一口气，随即欢呼起来。午夜的第一声钟响，还在空气中回荡。

The lamp-keeper lowers his taper and looks from one of them to the other. "You cut that very close," he says. "Do I want to know why?"

守灯人放下引火杆，看看这个，又看看那个。“你们赶得真险，”他说，“我想知道原因吗？”

"No," Joost says at once.

“不想，”约斯特立刻说。

"A bit," Lia says. She is still holding her side, and she is still laughing. She looks at Joost, who is staring at his own shaking hands, and she pats him on the shoulder.

“有一点，”莉娅说。她还捂着腰侧，还在笑。她看看约斯特，他正盯着自己发抖的双手，她拍了拍他的肩膀。

"Next time you want to show off," she says, "try it with a dumpling."

“下回你想显摆的时候，”她说，“拿个饺子试试吧。”