On the very last day of a bad year,

On the very last day of a bad year,
I was leaning against a pillar in the
Baltimore railway station, waiting
to catch the 10.10 to Philadelphia.
There were a lot more people waiting
than I had expected. That airy, light,
clean, polished feeling I generally got
in the station had been lost. Elderly
couples with matching luggage stuffed
the benches, and swarms of college kids
littered the floor with their bags.
A grey-haired man was walking around
speaking to different strangers one by
one. Well-off, you could tell: tanned
skin, nice sweater, soft, beige car-
coat. He went up to a woman sitting
alone and asked her a question. Then he
came over to a girl standing near me.
She had long blond hair, and I had been
thinking I wouldn ́t mind talking to her
myself. The man said, ‘Would you by any
chance be travelling to Philadelphia?’
‘Well, northbound, yes,’ she said.
‘But to Philadelphia?’
‘No, New York, but I’ll be ...’
‘Thanks, anyway,’ he said, and he
moved toward the next bench.
Now he had my full attention.
‘Ma’am,’ I heard him ask an old lady,
‘are you travelling to Philadelphia?’
When the woman told him, ‘Wilmington,’
he didn’t say a thing, just marched
on down the row to one of the matched-
luggage couples. I straightened up from
my pillar and drifted closer, looking
toward the platform as if I had my mind
on the train.
Well, I was going to Philadelphia. He could have asked me. I understood why he didn’t, of course. No doubt,
I struck him as unreliable. He just glanced quickly at me and then swerved off toward the bench at the other end of the waiting area. By now he was looking seriously stressed. ‘Please!’ he said to a woman reading a book. ‘Tell me you’re going to Philadelphia!’
She lowered her book. She was
thirtyish, maybe thirty-five – older
than I was, anyhow. A school-teacher
sort. ‘Philadelphia?’ she said. ‘Why,
yes, I am.’
‘Then could I ask you a favour?’
I stopped several feet away and
frowned down at my left wrist. (Never
mind that I don’t own a watch.) Even
without looking, I could sense how she
went on guard. The man must have sensed
it too, because he said, ‘Nothing too
difficult, I promise!’
They were announcing my train now.
People started moving toward Gate E,
the older couples hauling their wheeled
bags behind them like big pets on
leashes. Next I heard the man talking.
‘My daughter’s flying out this afternoon
for a study year abroad, leaving from
Philadelphia. So I put her on a train
this morning stopping for groceries
afterward, and came home to find my wife
in a state. She hardly said “hello” to
me. You see my daughter’d forgotten her
passport. She’d telephoned home from
the station in Philadelphia; didn’t
know what to do next.’
The woman clucked sympathetically.
I’d have kept quiet myself. Waited to
find out where he was heading with this.
‘So I told her to stay put. Stay
right there in the station, I said, and
I would get somebody here to carry up
her passport.’
A likely story! Why didn’t he go
himself, if this was such an emergency?
‘Why don’t you go yourself?’ the
woman asked him.
‘I can’t leave my wife alone for that
long. She’s in a wheelchair.’
This seemed like a pretty poor
excuse, if you want my honest opinion.
Also, it exceeded the amount of bad
luck that one family could expect.
I let my eyes wander toward the two of
them. The man was holding a packet,
not a plain envelope, which would have
been the logical choice, but one of
those padded envelopes the size of
a paperback book. Aha! Padded! So you
couldn’t feel the contents! And from
where I stood, it looked to be stapled
shut besides. Watch yourself, lady,
I said silently.

Kết quả (Việt) 1:

Vào ngày cuối cùng của một năm xấu,Tôi nghiêng chống lại một trụ cột ở cácGa xe lửa Baltimore, chờ đợiđể bắt 10.10 đến Philadelphia.Đã có rất nhiều người đang chờhơn tôi đã dự kiến. Thoáng mát, ánh sáng,làm sạch, đánh bóng cảm giác tôi thường nhậntrong nhà đã bị mất. Người cao tuổiCặp đôi kết hợp Giữ hành nhồighế dài, và bầy trẻ em đại họcrải rác tầng với túi của họ. Một người đàn ông tóc xám đã đi bộ quanhnói chuyện với một người lạ khác nhau bởimột. Well-off, bạn có thể cho biết: tannedda, áo len đẹp, mềm mại, xe màu be-Áo khoác. Ông đã đi đến một người phụ nữ ngồimột mình và hỏi cô một câu hỏi. Sau đó ôngđến hơn để một cô gái đứng gần tôi.Cô ta có tóc vàng dài, và tôi đã cósuy nghĩ tôi wouldn ́t nhớ nói chuyện với cô ấybản thân mình. Người đàn ông nói, ' nào bạn bởi bất kỳcơ hội đi du lịch đến Philadelphia?' 'Vâng, northbound, ', cô nói. 'Nhưng đến Philadelphia?' 'Không, New York, nhưng tôi sẽ...' 'Cảm ơn, dù sao,' ông nói, và ôngdi chuyển về hướng băng ghế sau. Bây giờ ông đã quan tâm đầy đủ của tôi.'Ma'am,' tôi nghe ông hỏi một bà già,'có bạn đi du lịch đến Philadelphia?'Khi người phụ nữ đã nói với anh ta, 'Wilmington 'ông không nói một điều, chỉ hành quânxuống hàng để một trong những phù hợp -Cặp vợ chồng Giữ hành. Tôi thẳng từtrụ cột của tôi và trôi dạt đến gần hơn, tìm kiếmĐối với các nền tảng như nếu tôi đã có tâm trí của tôitrên tàu.Vâng, tôi đã đi đến Philadelphia. Ông có thể hỏi tôi. Tôi hiểu lý do tại sao ông không, tất nhiên. Không có nghi ngờ,I struck him as unreliable. He just glanced quickly at me and then swerved off toward the bench at the other end of the waiting area. By now he was looking seriously stressed. ‘Please!’ he said to a woman reading a book. ‘Tell me you’re going to Philadelphia!’ She lowered her book. She wasthirtyish, maybe thirty-five – olderthan I was, anyhow. A school-teachersort. ‘Philadelphia?’ she said. ‘Why,yes, I am.’ ‘Then could I ask you a favour?’ I stopped several feet away andfrowned down at my left wrist. (Nevermind that I don’t own a watch.) Evenwithout looking, I could sense how shewent on guard. The man must have sensedit too, because he said, ‘Nothing toodifficult, I promise!’ They were announcing my train now.People started moving toward Gate E,the older couples hauling their wheeledbags behind them like big pets onleashes. Next I heard the man talking.‘My daughter’s flying out this afternoonfor a study year abroad, leaving fromPhiladelphia. So I put her on a trainthis morning stopping for groceriesafterward, and came home to find my wifein a state. She hardly said “hello” tome. You see my daughter’d forgotten herpassport. She’d telephoned home fromthe station in Philadelphia; didn’tknow what to do next.’ The woman clucked sympathetically.I’d have kept quiet myself. Waited tofind out where he was heading with this. ‘So I told her to stay put. Stayright there in the station, I said, andI would get somebody here to carry upher passport.’ A likely story! Why didn’t he gohimself, if this was such an emergency? ‘Why don’t you go yourself?’ thewoman asked him. ‘I can’t leave my wife alone for thatlong. She’s in a wheelchair.’ This seemed like a pretty poorexcuse, if you want my honest opinion.Also, it exceeded the amount of badluck that one family could expect.I let my eyes wander toward the two ofthem. The man was holding a packet,not a plain envelope, which would havebeen the logical choice, but one ofthose padded envelopes the size ofa paperback book. Aha! Padded! So youcouldn’t feel the contents! And fromwhere I stood, it looked to be stapledshut besides. Watch yourself, lady,I said silently.