2018-12-06 【Aiden in English】
A village sits in the mountains, deprived of food, fertile land, and the eyes of heaven. Water is a commodity; trees are a rarity, and brief flashes of green only originate from an occasional sprout or small, slimy reptilian creatures. Every year, a man comes to the village. He brings forth a flood of life. The village's dry well fills with fresh water; the mountain streams surge with newfound vitality; the brittle shrubs shine with natural vitality. Trees bud in a matter of days, carrying wildlife and fruit. The villagers call him the Keeper because he possesses natural wonders. He walks with a cane, which clanks on the ground like a set of keys. "Clink, clank. Clink, clank." He comes at night. His looks were a mystery. The men in the village lock their doors and keep their children safe that night of the year. "A man of that power must not be trusted," the old chieftain says. "Papa, he is so nice," says the chief's son, "He must have a good heart." His father kneels down and weakly smiles. "I wish that were true…" he grimly replies, "but no man can be all good and all-powerful." A faint clank can be heard in the distant darkness. The chief's smile falls from his face. He stands up, walks to the door, and slides a wooden boat across the thick surface. A year passes. The green has once again faded to grey. The river has stopped flowing. Only a few drops remain at the bottom of the well. It's been a week since the last deer was spotted. As night approaches, villagers rush to their houses in hushed silence—the unified sound of heavy bolts slamming against their locks rings in the air. "Clink, clank." "Clink, clank." The little boy holds his breath. He has experienced this night for many years, but fear still grips his soul. A brief pause hangs in the air. The chief tenses, awaiting the clanking of the cane to re-emerge. Nothing. A soft clatter can be heard outside. The chief is unnerved. This is unprecedented. The village does not like unprecedented things. He whispers to his son to go to his room. He urges him to sleep. In the morning, a ring of villagers surrounds the center of town. They appear to be in a hushed conversation. At the center of the ring lies a cane- a heavy, metallic pole with black runes inscribed onto the handle and down the length. The atmosphere matches the scenery. Grey—grey rocks, barren land—is all that can be seen—no flush of green, a surge of the hunt, a burst of water. The well is still dry. Days pass, and with the passage of time, the villagers also fade to grey. They grow sick, a disease only born from the death of the land. Older people are the first to fade: they pass away like pebbles in a stream. Children, unfed and malnourished, succumb to an unending sleep. Eventually, even the elderly chief passes away into the earth. Angered, heart torn into pieces, the chief's son grabs the staff, something that no one has wanted to touch in fear of inciting whatever dark powers it may hold. At night, possessing the cane, he walks out of the village searching for the Keeper. Once he found him, he would force the Keeper to bring back life to the town. As far as the eye can see, the land is nothing but rock piles and dry, blackened dirt. Stumps of trees mark where the green once inhabited, and lines mark where waters once flowed. He traverses mountains and valleys, finding a fiery strength within his rage. Not stopping for rest, and with no sustenance available, this boy surges onwards, letting his heart guide him into the bright sunset. The sun leads him to the sea. A violent, turbulent sea, waters violently giving life and death in cycles. A patch of green emerges—not trees, but lichens. Tiny lichens glisten on the black rock and pulsate in the sun. They glow in anticipation of the chief's son. The cane vibrates, and inscriptions emit a faint glow. An older man sits in the middle of the lichens, his legs crossed, and his eyes closed. He is bald, and not a single speck of hair can be seen on his head. He wears a worn, weathered, tattered robe, hanging from his shoulders, draped over a thin frame that has been beaten by time and nature. The young man approaches the lichen man, carefully inching onto the lichens. Suddenly, his cane flies from his hand and lands beside the man. His eyes do not open. "Are you the Keeper?" the young man timidly asks. No response. "Are you the Keeper?" he asks again, "Answer me!" A sigh escapes the meditating man. "Keeper, that's a new one." Groaning, he rises to his legs as if age has begun consuming his body. "What is your request?" The young man replies, "Restore life to my village!" The Keeper tilts his head in confusion. "Why should I?" "Because you always do! People are dying and awaiting your help! You can save my family!" Tears glisten in the young new chief's eyes. Suddenly, a crunch was heard from behind the young man. He turns around to find an older woman carrying a staff with black runes inscribed on the sides, identical to the one lying beside the Keeper. "Please, O Savior, save my village. A disease plagues our crops, and drought plagues our people. Please, I beg, please save my world!" The Keeper nods understandingly. He sighs. "O, how I wish I could help you both. I sincerely do." He looks towards the sea, "But time is a powerful force with no prejudice. I am too old to help both of you." A weariness overtakes his body. He slouches to the ground, shaking. "I can only help one of you!" he yells over the waves. "Do what you must!" The chief faces the woman. She is in tears. "No, no, please. Savior, we need you…" Filled with rage from the fires of his soul, the young man reaches out to the older woman. She doesn't run, a silent plea in her eyes. The cane drops from her hands, running ablaze. The Keeper yells, "What life gives is not what without a cost!" The young man reaches for the woman's throat, and tears roll down his face like waterfalls. "Life requires sacrifice, and blood continues the cycle!" A wave crashes against the charred rocks. He squeezes, and a sorrowful cry emits from his lungs. "Giving life has taken enough from me…" The young man feels the pulsing ebb out from the woman. Like his village, like his father, she succumbs to greyness. "... now let it take something from you." The young man sobs. Tears stream down his face. The older man rises and picks up both canes. He painfully smiles at the young chief, a tear appearing in his eye. Swiftly, he grips both staffs, slamming them together into the ground. A bright light flashes, and the pair returns to the village. He slams the staff again, bursting a wave of green vitality through the town and its surroundings. The villagers rush out of their homes, staring in awe at the newfound life flourishing around them. The young man collapses in tears. 【紅霞譯】
荒山野嶺遠離塵世的地方坐落着一個村莊，在那裡水成了稀罕物品，樹木也極其少見，偶而從嫩苞芽或小爬蟲身上才見點綠光。
每年有位男子都來村子，他的出現為當地帶來勃勃生機，枯井積滿清水，溪流從山澗奔涌而下，翠碧的灌木叢給大自然披掛上美麗新裝，沒有幾天工夫，樹枝紛紛吐露幼芽，競相開花結實爭妍鬥豔。 正因為這些奇觀異景，村民們稱他為“守護使者”。他拄着拐杖四處走動，身後發出鑰匙般清脆的響聲。
“叮噹，叮咚；叮噹，叮咚。”
他夜間出動，長相成謎。每逢這個晚上，村里當家的全都把各自門鎖好並看住孩子。“有那能耐的傢伙都不可靠，”老村長告誡。 “爸爸，他人不錯，”村長兒子說道：“肯定心地善良。”
孩子的父親蹲了下來咧了咧嘴巴，“但願如此……”他冷淡地回答：“不過再好的人也不會無所不能。” 從遠處黑暗的地方隱約傳來叮咚聲。 村長面帶笑容，站起來朝門口走去，把門閂緊緊插牢。
一年即逝，綠色再度褪變成灰色，河床乾涸，唯有井底依舊殘留幾滴水珠，自從上只鹿來過後足有一個星期之久。 夜幕降臨，村民們匆匆趕回家中，身後不約而同響起閂門聲。 “叮噹，叮咚。” “叮噹，叮咚。”
小伙子屏住呼吸，雖說早已經歷過許多次類似場面，但此時此刻依舊難掩內心緊張之情。 周圍忽然安靜下來，村長惴惴不安，正等待拐杖聲再度出現，哪知一點動靜沒有。 外面傳來輕輕拍打聲。 村長情緒低落，這可是破天荒頭一遭，村里沒人喜歡從未發生過的事情。 村長低聲勸兒子回屋，要他趕緊睡覺。
清早，一幫村民圍在村公所，好像嘀咕什麼，人群中央放着拐棍──一根沉甸甸的金屬棒，手柄及其下側刻有黑符。
現場氣氛跟周圍景致遙相呼應， 灰濛濛的天──光禿禿的地──眼前所能看到的無外乎這些東西，既沒有茂密的森林，也沒有多餘的獵物，更沒有富足的水源，連水井都乾巴巴的。
沒過幾天，街坊鄰里逐漸變得無精打采，開始感覺不舒服，患上一種窮山僻壤特有的疾病， 老人首當其衝：他們與世長辭，宛若被溪流捲走的石子；孩童長眠不醒，皆因飢餓難捱營養匱乏。黃泉路上無老少，上了年紀的村長最終魂歸故里。
哀戚之情油然而生，村長兒子抓住拐杖，要知道人們因為害怕沾上晦氣連碰都不想碰它一下。夜晚，小伙子手握拐杖到處尋找”護城使者”， 一旦如願以償便會想方設法勸他拯救父老鄉親。
抬眼望去，全村內外貧瘠荒蕪寸草不生，一片碎石爛泥，樹墩上昔日發芽的地方依稀可辨，年輪間以往水蝕的痕跡歷歷在目。
他翻山越嶺，將滿腔熱血化為實際行動，顧不上休息吃飯，從拂曉一直走到夕陽西下。 他跟着太陽來到大海，洶湧澎湃的浪濤周而復始，讓生與死永恆循環。
眼前呈現一片綠色， 沒有綠樹成林，唯見地衣點綴，隨着光線移動，小小地衣在黑色岩石上閃閃發光，村長兒子由此心生希望，這時拐杖震顫不止，上面的銘文泛起微光。
一位老大爺正坐在地衣中間，兩腿交叉，雙目緊閉，腦袋瓜光禿禿，沒有一絲頭髮，身上穿着又破又爛的披肩，披肩搭在膀子上，正好遮住枯瘦如柴的身子。
小伙子走近地衣佬，謹慎地踏上地衣。 突然，拐杖離手飛去，徑直落到老大爺旁邊，他眼睛並未睜開。 “你是‘護城使者’嗎？”小伙子怯聲問道。 沒有回應。 “你是‘護城使者’嗎？”他再次問道，“回答我！”
打坐者嘆了口氣。“護城使者”，那是新玩意。”他邊嘀咕邊站了起來： “你要幹什麼？” 小伙子回答說：“幫我家鄉恢復元氣！” “護城使者”歪着腦袋，滿臉充滿困惑： “為啥找我呢？”
“因為您一直在做嘛！ 鄉親們奄奄一息，亟待你出面幫忙！ 你能救活我的親人！” 新任年輕村長眼含熱淚。
說時遲那時快，小伙子背後傳來吱嘎一聲。 他轉過身去發現一位老大娘手捧兩邊刻有黑符的拐杖，與”護城使者”身邊那個相同。
“救命恩人啊，請您救救我的村莊。 疾病危害莊稼，乾旱折磨百姓。 拜託，我懇求您，請救救我的家園！”
“護城使者”點頭表示理解。 他嘆了口氣： “哦，我多麼希望能幫助二位，真的。”
他轉向大海，“但時間是主導力量，毫無任何傾向性可言。 我老了，實在力不從心。”
他整個人處於消沉狀態，懶散地躺在地上，渾身發抖。 “我只能幫助你們中的一個！”他衝着海浪大吼： “要當機立斷！”
村長看着老大娘，她淚流滿面。 “不，請不要這樣。救命恩人，我們需要您...... ”
一股莫名的衝動湧上心頭，小伙子把手伸向老大娘。 她沒閃開，眼神中流露出無聲的懇求。 拐杖從她的手中滑落，符文着起火來。 “護城使者”吼叫起來，“生命不是沒有代價的！” 淚水像瀑布一樣奪眶而出，小伙子抓住老大娘的脖子。 “生命需要犧牲，血脈代代相傳！” 波浪撞擊燒焦的岩石。 他捏了捏，哭得撕心裂肺。 “我已經付出很多......”
小伙子覺察到老大娘脈搏變弱， 就像家鄉還有自己父親臨終前那樣，她撒手人寰。 “......現在趕緊辦你的事情。” 小伙子淚如泉湧，哀慟不已。 老大爺起身，拿起兩根拐杖，衝着年輕村長苦笑了一下，淚水打濕了眼眶。
他迅速抓住兩根拐杖使勁摔到地上， 閃電般的亮光劃破長空，兩人凱旋而歸。 他再一次扔出拐杖，村子大地回春，鄉親們衝出家門，對眼前欣欣向榮的場景無不驚喜萬分。 小伙子熱淚縱橫。 Today in History(歷史上的今天): 2014: Soccer Ice Cream Party(足球冰淇凌聚會)  Pennbrook Small Ensembles' Night
(賓溪初中小型樂隊音樂晚會 05-31-2018)  NPHS Swimming Pool (北賓州高中游泳池 06-24-2018)
Crosslinks(相關博文): 9th Grade Flash Story─Splash in a River(小小說─玉花飛濺) 9th Grade Short Story─Reunion(高一短篇小說─相逢) 8th Grade Flash Story─My Glory to Your Honor(初三小小說─為你驕傲) 8th Grade Flash Story─Sleep is Bliss(初三小小說─能睡是福) 6th Grade Flash Story─Crisis on Mulberry Street(初一小小說─桑樹街危機) 3rd Grade Flash Story─Halloween(三年級小小說─萬聖節) 10th Grade(高中二年級) |
