“... and I got so scared. I want to come home. I know running away was wrong and you’ve been worried sick. I should have called you days ago but I was afraid， afraid ...”
13）Sobs of deep-felt emotion flowed from the receiver and poured into my heart. Immediately I pictured my daughter’s face in my mind， and my fogged senses seemed to clear， “I think ...”
“No！ Please let me finish！ Please！” She pleaded in desperation. I paused and tried to think what to say. Before I could go on， she continued. “Mum. I know I shouldn’t be drinking now...but I’m scared， Mum. So scared！”
The voice broke again， and I bit into my lip， feeling my own eyes fill with moisture. I looked up at my husband， who sat silently mouthing， “Who is it？”
I shook my head and when I didn’t answer， he jumped up and left the room， returning seconds later with a portable phone held to his ear. She must have heard the click in the line because she asked， “Are you still there？ Please don’t hang up on me！ I need you. I feel so alone.”
I clutched the phone and stared at my husband， seeking guidance. “I’m here， I wouldn’t hang up，” I said. “I should have told you， mum. When we talk， you just keep telling me what I should do. You read all those pamphlets on how to talk to kids. You don’t listen to me. You never let me tell you how I feel. It is as if my feelings aren’t important. Because you’re my mother you think you have all the answers. But sometimes I don’t need answers. I just want someone to listen.”
I wallowed the lump in my throat and stared at the how-to-talk-to-your-kids pamphlets scattered on my nightstand. “I’m listening，” I whispered.
“You know， back there on the road after I got the car under control， I saw this phone booth and it was as if I could hear you preaching to me about how people shouldn’t drink and drive. So I called a taxi. I want to come home.”
“That’s good honey，” I said， relief filling my chest.
“But you know， I think I can drive now.”
“No！” I snapped. My muscles stiffened and I tightened the clasp on my husband’s hand. “Please， wait for the taxi. Don’t hang up on me until the taxi gets there.”
“I just want to come home， Mum.”
“I know. But do this for your Mum. Wait for the taxi， please.”
I listened to the silence in fear. When I didn’t hear her answer， I bit into my lip and closed my eyes. “There’s the taxi now.” Only when I heard someone in the background asking about a Yellow Cab did I feel my tension easing.
“I’m coming home， Mum.” There was a click， and the phone went silent. Moving from the bed， tears forming in my eyes， I walked out into the hall and went to stand in my 16-year-old daughter’s room. My husband came from behind and wrapped his arms around me.
I wiped the tears from my cheeks. “We have to learn to listen，” I said to him. He studied me for a second， and then asked， “Do you think she’ll ever know she dialed the wrong number？”
I looked at our sleeping daughter， then back at him. “Maybe it wasn’t such a wrong number.”
“Mum， Dad， what are you doing？” The muffled voice came from under the covers. I walked over to my daughter， who now sat up staring into the darkness. “We’re practicing，” I answered. “Practicing what？” she mumbled and laid back on the mattress. “Listening，” I whispered and brushed a hand over her cheek.
我们都知道在半夜时分听到电话铃响是什么感觉，那一夜并不例外。我从睡梦中被电话铃惊醒，猛然坐起来，定睛看了看时钟上发光的红色数字。已经是午夜了，我抓起电话听筒，睡思昏沉的脑子里充满了可怕的猜测。
“喂？”我的心“怦怦”地跳个不停，把电话抓得更紧了。“妈妈？”那边传来一个声音。由于有电流干扰声，我几乎听不见对方细小的声音，但我立刻想到了我的女儿。当电话那头那绝望而稚气的哭声逐渐清晰起来的时候，我一把抓住了丈夫，紧紧地捏住他的手腕。
“妈妈，我知道现在已经很晚了，可是别……别说话，先听我说完。不用你问，我自己招了吧，没错，我喝了点酒。在刚过去的那几英里（1英里约等于1600米）路段上我差点冲出了公路而且……”我急遽地吸了一口气，松开了丈夫。此刻，我仍有几分睡意，我努力克服恐惧。事情有些不对劲儿。
“……我很害怕，我想回家。我知道离家出走是不对的，害你这么担心。我应该几天前就给你打电话的，但是我害怕，我真的很害怕……”
充满悲伤的啜泣声从电话的另一头传过来，撞击着我的心。我的脑海里立刻浮现出女儿的样子。那一刻，我似乎清醒了，“我想……”
“不！请听我说完！求你了！”她声嘶力竭地恳求道。我停下不讲，想着该说些什么才好。还没等我开口，她又继续说道：“妈妈，我知道我不应该喝酒……可是我害怕，妈妈！我非常害怕！”
她刚说完，声音就中断了。我咬着嘴唇，感到自己的双眼湿润了。我抬头看着丈夫，他静静地坐在那里，用唇语问我：“是谁啊？”
我摇了摇头，没有回答。丈夫起身离开房间，但很快就回来了，耳朵贴在手提式的电话分机上。电话那头的她肯定是听到了这边的一些声响，她问道：“你还在听吗？请别挂断电话！我需要你。我好孤独！”
我紧紧抓住听筒，凝视着丈夫，想得到他的指点。“我一直在听呢，我不会挂断电话的，”我说。“我早就应该和你说了，妈妈。当我们交谈的时候，你只是不停地告诉我应该做什么。你把关于如何同孩子交谈的小册子都看遍了，就是不肯听我说。你从来不让我说出自己的感受，似乎我的感受根本就不重要。因为你是我妈妈，你认为你理所当然地知道所有问题的答案。但是，有时候我不是要答案，我只想有个人听我说话。”
我如鲠在喉，凝视着面前散放在床头柜上各式各样的关于如何和孩子交谈的小册子。“我在听着呢，”我低声回答。
“你知道吗，刚才在半路上，我把车子控制住以后，看见了这个电话亭，似乎又听到你在告诫我说，不应该酒后驾驶。所以，我叫了一辆出租车。我想回家。”
“太好了，宝贝，”我说，我有一种如释重负的感觉。
“可是，我想我现在可以开车了。”
“不行！”我急促地说。我全身的肌肉一下子绷紧了，我紧紧地握住丈夫的手。“好好等待出租车过来吧。车到以前不要挂断电话。”
“我只想回家，妈妈。”
“我知道。可是，为了妈妈，坐出租车回家，好吗？在那里等出租车吧。”
我惶恐不安地感知着那边的静默。当我听不到她的回答时，我咬紧了嘴唇，闭上眼睛。“出租车来了。”当我听到电话那头有个声音在跟出租车司机说着什么的时候，我紧张的情绪才舒缓下来。
“我现在回家了，妈妈。”电话“咔哒”一声挂掉了。我起身下床，眼里噙着泪水。我穿过客厅，走进了16岁女儿的房间。丈夫从后面跟上来，伸开双臂抱紧了我。
我抹去滑落到脸颊上的泪水。“我们得学会聆听，”我对丈夫说。他端详了我一会儿，然后问道：“你说她以后会意识到自己拨错了电话号码吗？”
我看了看正在熟睡的女儿，然后转头看着他。“也许不能说她拨错了。”
“妈妈、爸爸，你们在干什么？”女儿从被子底下发出微弱的声音。我走近女儿，她坐起身来，努力在黑暗中睁开睡眼。“我们在练习，”我回答说。“练习什么呢？”她一边喃喃地说，一边躺下继续睡。“聆听。”我轻轻抚摸着她的脸颊，小声回答道。
Marble Trader
弹珠交易