STUDY IN CHINA GLOBAL (SCG)作品原文
张抗抗 《恐惧的平衡》
这是几年前经历的一件小事。
散了戏，走出剧场发现正在下雨。我因从别处赶来看戏，没像通常那样骑车。丈夫推着自行车过来，说那你就自己“打的”回家吧。
一会儿就驶来了一辆“的士”。我不想在雨里呆得太久，拉开车门就往里钻。等坐定了，抬手向车窗外的丈夫招招手。等招完了手，才有工夫来看车子里的情形。车轮已经启动，就在那一瞬，我才发现：车的前排座位上，除了一个年轻司机，竟然还有一个膀大腰圆的壮汉。
那两个人都板着脸一声不吭，感觉十分阴险。而且，车里的灯很暗，有一种我很陌生的杀气腾腾之感。
我出了一头冷汗。猛地打开车窗，回过头去人群中寻找我的那位保护者，差点就没喊出声来你快救救我。我觉得他好像也察觉了车里有两个 “司机”，他急急地跳上自行车尾随着这辆“的士”追了上来。但不幸的是，散戏的人流如潮涌来，只一会儿工夫，他就淹没在黑暗之中了。
车速很快。走的是快车道。快得确实令人生疑。
那两人仍是一句话也不说。
我想这回完了。随身的包里还有刚从银行取出来的一笔稿费呢。
我忐忑不安、心慌意乱。我想对他们说停车停车我要下去，可话到嘴边却张不开口。毕竟，他们还没把你怎么着；再揉眼看看窗外，行车的路线也对头啊。看来，今儿我只好豁出去，听天由命了！
“是花园村吗？”那司机没好气地问。
我用颤抖的声音说是。脑子里用最快的速度演习着应急的招数。我差不多已不会说是了，然而车又飞快地跑了一阵，按照我说的路线拐了几个弯，竟然停在我熟悉的那幢楼底下了。
我软软地靠在座位上，长长地松了口气。定定神，用还在哆嗦的手掏出钱包付车费。拉开车门，壮着胆问了一句：“嗳！你们怎么两个人开车啊？”
“哼，这年月，晚上出车，一个人谁敢哪？要是有劫道的，两个人都架不住！”开车的那个气呼呼地嘟哝。
“你要是两个人，我还不拉你了呢！”冷冷地，另一个甩过来这么一句。
车掉了头，像来时一样，急匆匆地走了。我在门前淅沥的小雨中静静站了一会，恍然大悟。便如同一个死里逃生的人，头一回觉得这幢隐没在夜幕和雨雾中的红砖楼房，非常非常的可爱和温柔。
然而事情却没有就此了结。我心情愉快地走上楼梯欲进家门时，发现自己根本没带钥匙。
出门忘带钥匙是我常犯的一个错。糟糕的是，此刻我的丈夫还骑着自行车在路上。
我坐在水泥的楼梯上，百无聊赖。表的指针突然变得懒洋洋的。我一会儿就失去了耐心，便跑到楼下去等。雨已停了，我意外地发现有一位熟悉的邻居家还亮着灯，我想我何不进去同他们聊会儿天呢，这样时间就会过得快些。
他们很友好地接待我，我们谈得很热烈。等我想起来该回家的时候，时针已指着十二点一刻。
我咚咚敲门。门里有大声嚷嚷的声音，过一会门才开。他愣了愣，一把拽住我，莫名其妙地说：“警察，这么快就、就找到你了？我，正在、在报警呢！”
“你说什么呀？报什么警呀？”我也糊涂了。
“几点了你不看看？刚才你上车的时候，我看见了车里有两个男的，没追上，只好安慰自己不会有事。可你一直没到家，我越想越可疑，越想越不对头，肯定是那辆车的问题。这不，我刚打完电话，警察还让我回忆车号呢……”
我哭笑不得地打断他说，“嗨，你怕那两个司机，人家还怕乘客呢。如今一到晚上，‘的士’里都带着保镖，是两个司机‘联防’，防的就是像你这样的大个儿。人家说了，要是你上车，他们还不敢拉呢，懂不懂？”
他张着嘴一句话也说不出来。
不过到我写这篇文章时，“的士”里的驾驶座和乘客席之间，早已装上了防盗安全网。有人说这样就井水不犯河水了。也有人说，这是防君子不防小人的。
可每次我“打的”，坐在被铁栏隔开的座位上，望着神色茫然的司机，我总会想：也许我们都是守法之人，然而我们无权彼此信任。我们相互构成了对方的暴力威胁。为了我们双方的生命安全，我们必须互相戒备互相防范。
也许这样很公平。
恐惧虽然暂时平衡。但由于这种平衡，是因许多次不能平衡的恐怖事件造成的，所以我们或许还将经常地经历恐惧。
作品译文
The Balance of Fear
This happened several years ago.
After the show, we walked out into the rain. I had not taken my bicycle as I usually did. My husband wheeled over his and said: “Well, you better take a taxi.”
Just then a taxi drew up to the sidewalk. I did not want to stand in the rain, so quickly opened the door and slid in. I raised my hand to wave goodbye but the car had started moving. Only then did I notice that sitting next to the driver was a giant of a man. A tough customer.
The two of them were silent, faces set in a sinister cast. The light in the car was dim, and that too, enhanced the threatening atmosphere. I rolled down the car window and tried frantically to locate my husband among the crowd in the street, nearly crying out for help. It seemed that he too, had become aware of the two drivers in the car. I caught a glimpse of him jumping on his bike to follow us. Unfortunately the theater crowd was too thick, and in the twinkling of an eye he was lost to me in the darkness.
The car was speeding away in the fast lane. Suspiciously fast, it seemed to me.
The two men were silent.
“Now I’m in for it.” My heart sank. And I’ve just drawn out some royalty payments from the bank. They’re right here in my purse!
I broke out in a cold sweat. I wanted to stop the car and get out, but couldn’t bring myself to say so. After all, they haven’t done anything to me so far. I looked out of the window. Yes, we were traveling in the right direction. I’ll just have to risk it, I thought to myself.
“Is it Garden Village?” the driver asked me gruffly.
I answered yes in a quavering voice. As my mind speedily went over emergency measures for self-defense, I could hardly pronounce the word yes. The car sped along according to my directions, made several turns and drew up at our old, familiar building.
I fell back weakly in my seat and gave a big sigh. Collecting my wits, fumbled for the fare in my purse. As I opened the car door, I picked up my courage and asked: “How come the two of you are driving one car?”
“With the times as they are, who’d be so rash as to drive out alone at night? If we meet with highway robbery, even two is not enough to cope!” the driver said resentfully.
“If it had been the two of you, we’d probably refuse to take the fare!” The other fellow flung the words at me icily.
The car made a U turn and sped away as swiftly as it had come. Still in a daze, as if snatched from death’s grip, I suddenly realized how lovable, how warm was this old, familiar, red-brick building standing solidly in the darkness on this rainy night.
But my story does not end here. I had walked up the stairs with a light heart, then discovered that I did not have my key. Forgetting the key was my pet vice. Right now the problem was that here I was, and my husband still on his way by bike, which meant that I had to sit on the cement floor of the landing to wait for him.
My watch moved slowly, and I soon lost patience. Out of pure boredom, I went downstairs again. The rain had stopped, and there was a light in our neighbor’s apartment. Why not go in for a chat to pass the time, I thought to myself. They were friends, and we chatted away gaily. It was a quarter past twelve when I remembered time, and stood up to go.
I knocked at our apartment door, and heard my husband’s voice inside, loud and tense. The door opened slowly and cautiously. My husband stood in the doorway, astonishment written all over his face. He grabbed me and pulled me in. “The police, d-d-did they find you so quickly?! I had j-j-just reported…”
What was he talking about? I was completely staggered.
“Do you realize what time it is? I saw those two men in the car, and couldn’t overtake you. I told myself not to worry. But you didn’t show up, so I got real scared. I was sure something had happened. Fact is, I’ve just put down the phone. The police asked me to recall the car number…” he spluttered.
I didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry as I cut him short. “You were afraid of those two drivers, and they were afraid of you. Nowadays, taxi drivers use a bodyguard at night. It’s a kind of joint defense operation, and they’re defending themselves precisely against the likes of you. They said if you were boarding, they’d refuse to take the fare…”
He gasped in astonishment and I escaped a scolding.
As I am writing this article, an iron railing has been installed between driver and passenger in taxi-cabs, the so-called anti-robbery safety net. Drivers and passengers each keep to their won side of the railing. People say this is only effective against “honorable men,” that it wouldn’t keep away villains.
Nowadays, whenever I sit on my side of the railing behind the totally expressionless driver, I often think to myself: perhaps we are both honest people, but now deprived of the right to trust each other. For our own safety, we are made to guard against each other. We are contributing to each other’s fear. Perhaps this is fair. For the moment, fear is balanced. But this balance has been achieved by an accumulation of many fears which cannot be balanced, so we will probably always live in fear.
