二十年后

在纽约的一条大街上，一位值勤的警察正在街头巡逻。虽说只是晚上十点，可凄厉的寒风夹杂着小雨早已驱散了街上的行人。

这位警察身材魁梧，气度不凡。他一边挨门挨户地察看，一边转动着手中的警棍，弄出了种种令人眼花缭乱的花样，不时还警觉地瞧着平静的大道，那样子活像是一尊和平的守护神。这一带没有多少夜市，你不时可以看到烟铺或者通宵便餐馆的灯光，可绝大多数的门面是属于大商号的，都早已关得严严的。

走到一个街区的中段，警察突然放慢了脚步。在一家小店铺的门口，昏暗的灯光下站着一个男子。他的嘴里叼着一支没有点燃的雪茄烟。看见警察朝他走来，那人抢先说道。

“这儿没事，警官。”那人解释道，“我只是在等一个朋友。这是我们二十年前的一个约定。你听了是不是觉得有点奇怪？好吧，要是你有兴致，我就讲给你听听。大约二十年前，这家店铺所在的地方原是一家餐馆……哦，叫大乔·布雷迪餐馆。”

“那餐馆五年前就拆了。”警察说道。

那人划了一根火柴，点燃了叼在嘴上的雪茄。借着火柴的亮光，警察发现那人脸色苍白，右眼角附近有一块小小的白色伤疤。他的围巾扣针歪别着，上面镶着一颗大钻石。

“二十年前的这个晚上，”那人继续说道，“我和吉米·维尔斯在布雷迪餐馆共进晚餐。哦，吉米是我最要好的朋友。我们俩都是在纽约城里长大的。从孩提时候起，我们俩就情同手足，亲密无间。那时候，我十八，吉米二十。第二天，我要去西部闯荡。我无法说服吉米离开纽约；在他看来，天下似乎就只有一个纽约。那天晚上，我们俩约定：二十年后的同一日期、同一时间，我俩将在这里再次相会。”

“这事听起来倒是挺有意思。”警察说道，“分手以后，你就没有收到那个朋友的消息？”

“哦，收到过。有一段时间，我们有过书信来往。”那人说道，“可是一两年之后，我们就失去了联系。你要知道，西部是个很大的地方。而我呢，又总是不停地东奔西跑。可我相信，吉米只要还活着，就一定会来这儿赴约的。他一直是我最忠实可靠的老朋友！”

说着，那人从口袋里掏出了一只表盖上镶嵌着一颗颗小钻石的漂亮怀表。

“十点还差三分。” 他说道，“我们上次从餐馆门口分手时就是十点整。”

“你在西部混得不错吧？”警察问。

“你说的没错！要是吉米赶得上我一半就好了。他是个大好人，可就是有点死板。唉，我发财可也是不那么容易啊，非得多长几个心眼不可。在纽约，人总是墨守成规，要想开窍得去西部历练。”

警察转了转手中的警棍，朝前又迈开了步子。

“我得走了。”他对那人说道，“希望你的朋友真能来。如果他到时候不来，你会走吗？”

“不会的。起码，我要再等他半个小时。如果吉米还活在世上，他到时候一定会来的。再见，警官。”

“晚安，先生。”警察说完，又继续巡逻，一边走一边挨家挨户地巡视着。

这时候，天上下起了濛濛细雨，风也越刮越紧。街上已经是空荡荡的，没有了什么行人。而在五金店的门口，那个不远千里来与年轻时的好友赴约的人抽着雪茄，等待着。

等了大约有二十分钟，一个身材高大的男子急匆匆地朝这边走来。他穿着一件黑色的大衣，衣领向上翻着，盖住了耳朵。

“鲍勃，真的是你吗？”来人含糊地问。

“你是吉米·维尔斯？”站在门口的那人叫了起来。

“哎呀！”新来的人握住那人的双手，大声说道。“没错，果然是鲍勃。我知道，只要你还活着，我一定会在这里见到你的。唉，二十年，时间可不短啊！你看，鲍勃！原来那家餐馆已经拆了！要是它还在的话，我们可以到里面再吃上一顿。老弟，你在西部混得怎么样？”

“哦，好极了。一切都如愿以偿。吉米，你的变化可不小啊。我没想到你会长得这么高，比原来又高了两三寸。”

“哦，二十岁以后，我又长高了一点。”

“吉米，你在纽约过得不错吧？”

“马马虎虎。我在市里的一个部门谋了一个职位。走吧，鲍勃，我带你去一个熟悉的地方，咱们好好叙叙旧。”

两人手挽手沿马路走着。从西部归来的那人踌躇满志，讲起了这些年来的发迹史；而另一个人却把脑袋缩在衣领里，津津有味地听着。

在大街的拐弯处有一家药店，店里亮着灯。来到亮处后，这两个人都不约而同地转过身来看了看对方的脸。

    那个从西部来的男子突然停下了脚步，松开了他的胳膊。

“你不是吉米·维尔斯。”他说，“二十年的时间虽然不短，但它还不至于将一个人的鹰钩鼻变成了扁鼻子。”

“可二十年却将一个好人变成了坏人。”高个子说道，“鲍勃，你已被捕了。芝加哥警方猜到你会到这个城市来的。于是，他们通知我们说，他们想跟你‘聊聊’。放老实点，知道吗？这才是明智的。好吧，在我们还没有去警察局之前，先给你看一张纸条，是你的朋友维尔斯警官写给你的。”

鲍勃打开那张交给他的小纸条。刚看的时候，他的手还正常，读完纸条，他的手微微颤抖起来。纸条很短，上面写着：

鲍勃：

刚才，我准时赶到了我们约定的地点。当你划着火柴点烟时，我发现你正是芝加哥警方通缉的那个人。不知怎么的，我不忍心亲手将你逮捕，便找了个便衣代劳。

 

                                                   吉米

                                                                   选自《天堂之门》（闻春国译）

 

 

 

 【附原文】 

 

After Twenty Years
By  O Henry

The policeman on the beat moved up the avenue. The time was barely 10 o'clock at night, but chilly gusts of wind with a taste of rain in them had well nigh depeopled the streets.

Trying doors as he went, twirling his club with many intricate and artful movements, turning now and then to cast his watchful eye adown the pacific thoroughfare, the officer, with his stalwart form and slight swagger, made a fine picture of a guardian of the peace. The vicinity was one that kept early hours. Now and then you might see the lights of a cigar store or of an all-night lunch counter; but the majority of the doors belonged to business places that had long since been closed.

When about midway of a certain block the policeman suddenly slowed his walk. In the doorway of a darkened hardware store a man leaned, with an unlighted cigar in his mouth. As the policeman walked up to him the man spoke up quickly.

"It's all right, officer," he said, reassuringly. "I'm just waiting for a friend. It's an appointment made twenty years ago. Sounds a little funny to you, doesn't it? Well, I'll explain if you'd like to make certain it's all straight. About that long ago there used to be a restaurant where this store stands--'Big Joe' Brady's restaurant."

"Until five years ago," said the policeman. "It was torn down then."

The man in the doorway struck a match and lit his cigar. The light showed a pale, square-jawed face with keen eyes, and a little white scar near his right eyebrow. His scarf pin was a large diamond, oddly set.

"Twenty years ago to-night," said the man, "I dined here at 'Big Joe' Brady's with Jimmy Wells, my best chum, and the finest chap in the world. He and I were raised here in New York, just like two brothers, together. I was eighteen and Jimmy was twenty. The next morning I was to start for the West to make my fortune. You couldn't have dragged Jimmy out of New York; he thought it was the only place on earth. Well, we agreed that night that we would meet here again exactly twenty years from that date and time, no matter what our conditions might be or from what distance we might have to come."

"It sounds pretty interesting," said the policeman. "Rather a long time between meets, though, it seems to me. Haven't you heard from your friend since you left?"

"Well, yes, for a time we corresponded," said the other. "But after a year or two we lost track of each other. You see, the West is a pretty big proposition, and I kept hustling around over it pretty lively. But I know Jimmy will meet me here if he's alive, for he always was the truest, stanchest old chap in the world."

The waiting man pulled out a handsome watch, the lids of it set with small diamonds.

"Three minutes to ten," he announced. "It was exactly ten o'clock when we parted here at the restaurant door."

"Did pretty well out West, didn't you?" asked the policeman.

"You bet! I hope Jimmy has done half as well. He was a kind of plodder, though, good fellow as he was. I've had to compete with some of the sharpest wits going to get my pile. A man gets in a groove in New York. It takes the West to put a razor-edge on him."

The policeman twirled his club and took a step or two.

"I'll be on my way. Hope your friend comes around all right. Going to call time on him sharp?"

"I should say not!" said the other. "I'll give him half an hour at least. If Jimmy is alive on earth he'll be here by that time. So long, officer."

"Good-night, sir," said the policeman, passing on along his beat, trying doors as he went.

There was now a fine, cold drizzle falling, and the wind had risen from its uncertain puffs into a steady blow. The few foot passengers astir in that quarter hurried dismally and silently along. And in the door of the hardware store the man who had come a thousand miles to fill an appointment, uncertain almost to absurdity, with the friend of his youth, smoked his cigar and waited.

About twenty minutes he waited, and then a tall man in a long overcoat, with collar turned up to his ears, hurried across from the opposite side of the street. He went directly to the waiting man.

"Is that you, Bob?" he asked, doubtfully.

"Is that you, Jimmy Wells?" cried the man in the door.

"Bless my heart!" exclaimed the new arrival, grasping both the other's hands with his own. "It's Bob, sure as fate. I was certain I'd find you here if you were still in existence. Well, well, well! --twenty years is a long time. The old gone, Bob; I wish it had lasted, so we could have had another dinner there. How has the West treated you, old man?"

"Bully; it has given me everything I asked it for. You've changed lots, Jimmy. I never thought you were so tall by two or three inches."

"Oh, I grew a bit after I was twenty."

"Doing well in New York, Jimmy?"

"Moderately. I have a position in one of the city departments. Come on, Bob; we'll go around to a place I know of, and have a good long talk about old times."

The two men started up the street, arm in arm. The man from the West, his egotism enlarged by success, was beginning to outline the history of his career. The other, submerged in his overcoat, listened with interest.

At the corner there stood a drug store, brilliant with electric lights. When they came into this glare each of them turned simultaneously to gaze upon the other's face.

The man from the West stopped suddenly and released his arm.

"You're not Jimmy Wells," he snapped. "Twenty years is a long time, but not long enough to change a man's nose from a Roman to a pug."

"It sometimes changes a good man into a bad one," said the tall man. "You've been under arrest, Bob. Chicago thinks you may have dropped over our way and wires us she wants to have a chat with you. Going quietly, are you? That's sensible. Now, before we go on to the station here's a note I was asked to hand you. It's from Patrolman Wells."

The man from the West unfolded the little piece of paper handed him. His hand was steady when he began to read, but it trembled a little by the time he had finished. The note was rather short.

"Bob: I was at the appointed place on time. When you struck the match to light your cigar I saw it was the face of the man wanted in Chicago. Somehow I couldn't do it myself, so I went around and got a plain clothes man to do the job. JIMMY."