卡车店的天使 Angels, at the truck stop

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2024年1月8日发(作者：)

In September 1960, I woke up one morning with six hungry babies and just 75 cents

in my pocket. Their father was gone. The boys ranged from three months to seven

years; their sister was two.

Their Dad had never been much more than a presence they feared. Whenever they

heard his tires crunch on the gravel driveway they would scramble to hide under

their beds. He did manage to leave 15 dollars a week to buy groceries. Now that he

had decided to leave, there would be no more beatings, but no food either. If there

was a welfare system in effect in southern Indiana at that time, I certainly knew

nothing about it.

I scrubbed the kids until they looked brand new and then put on my best homemade

dress. I loaded them into the rusty old 51 Chevy and drove off to find a job. The

seven of us went to every factory, store and restaurant in our small town. No luck.

The kids stayed, crammed into the car and tried to be quiet while I tried to convince

whomever would listen that I was willing to learn or do anything. I had to have a job.

Still no luck.

The last place we went to, just a few miles out of town, was an old Root Beer Barrel

drive-in that had been converted to a truck stop. It was called the Big Wheel. An old

lady named Granny owned the place and she peeked out of the window from time to

time at all those kids. She needed someone on the graveyard shift, 11 at night until

seven in the morning. She paid 65 cents an hour and I could start that night.

I raced home and called the teenager down the street that baby-sat for people. I

bargained with her to come and sleep on my sofa for a dollar a night. She could

arrive with her pajamas on and the kids would already be asleep. This seemed like

a good arrangement to her, so we made a deal. That night when the little ones and

I knelt to say our prayers we all thanked God for finding Mommy a job. And so I

started at the Big Wheel.

When I got home in the mornings I woke the baby-sitter up and sent her home with

one dollar of my tip money - fully half of what I averaged every night. As the weeks

went by, heating bills added another strain to my meager wage. The tires on the old

Chevy had the consistency of penny balloons and began to leak. I had to fill

them with air on the way to work and again every morning before I could go home.

One bleak fall morning, I dragged myself to the car to go home and found four tires

in the back seat. New tires! There was no note, no nothing, just those beautiful

brand new tires. Had angels taken up residence in Indiana? I wondered. I made a

deal with the owner of the local service station. In exchange for his mounting the

new tires, I would clean up his office. I remember it took me a lot longer to scrub

his floor than it did for him to do the tires.

I was now working six nights instead of five and it still wasn't enough. Christmas

was coming and I knew there would be no money for toys for the kids. I found a can

of red paint and started repairing and painting some old toys. Then I hid them in the

basement so there would be something for Santa to deliver on Christmas morning.

Clothes were a worry too. I was sewing patches on top of patches on the boys pants

and soon they would be too far gone to repair.

On Christmas Eve the usual customers were drinking coffee in the Big Wheel. These

were the truckers, Les, Frank, and Jim, and a state trooper named Joe. A few

musicians were hanging around after a gig at the Legion and were dropping nickels

in the pinball machine. The regulars all just sat around and talked through the wee

hours of the morning and then left to get home before the sun came up. When it was

time for me to go home at seven o'clock on Christmas morning I hurried to the car.

I was hoping the kids wouldn't wake up before I managed to get home and get the

presents from the basement and place them under the tree (We had cut down a

small cedar tree by the side of the road down by the dump.)

It was still dark and I couldn't see much, but there appeared to be some dark

shadows in the car - or was that just a trick of the night? Something certainly looked

different, but it was hard to tell what.

When I reached the car I peered warily into one of the side windows. Then my jaw

dropped in amazement. My old battered Chevy was full to the top with boxes of

all shapes and sizes. I quickly opened the driver's side door, crumbled inside and

kneeled in the front facing the back seat. Reaching back, I pulled off the lid of the

top box. Inside was a whole case of little blue jeans, sizes 2-10! I looked inside

another box: It was full of shirts to go with the jeans. Then I peeked inside some of

the other boxes: There were candy and nuts and bananas and bags of groceries.

There was an enormous ham for baking, and canned vegetables and

potatoes. There was pudding and Jell-O and cookies, pie filling and flour. There

was a whole bag of laundry supplies and cleaning items. And there were five toy

trucks and one beautiful little doll. As I drove back through empty streets as the sun

slowly rose on the most amazing Christmas Day of my life, I was sobbing with

gratitude. And I will never forget the joy on the faces of my little ones that precious

morning.

Yes, there were angels in Indiana that long-ago December.

And they all hung out at the Big Wheel truck stop.

1960年的9月的一天早晨，我醒来时，有六个饥肠辘辘的孩子在身旁，而我口袋里只有75美分。他们的父亲走了。男孩们最小只有3个月，最大的7岁，而女孩只有两岁。

父亲对他们来说，不过是个令人害怕的存在。只要一听到他的轮胎碾过车道上的碎石路，他们就会赶紧爬到他们的床下躲起来。他的确每周留下了15美金做家用。而现在他决定离开，再不会有拳脚相向，可是也就不再会有食物。如果那时的印第安纳南部有运作完善的福利制度，那我也肯定对此一无所知。

我搓洗着孩子们，直到把他们洗得焕然一新，才穿上自己最好的手制衣裙。我把他们一一装进那辆51年的老旧生锈的雪佛兰，然后出发去找工作。我们七个走遍小镇上每一家工厂，商店和餐馆。一无所获。孩子们拥挤地留在车里，在我试图使人们相信我什么都愿意干什么都愿意学时，他们努力着保持安静。我必须得有个工作。可是，依旧一无所获。

我们去的最后一个地方，就在镇子几里外，那是个由卖沙士的路边餐厅改造成的卡车休息站。被称为“大转盘”。一个叫老婆婆的老妇人是那儿的老板，她时不时地看向窗外那些孩子。她需要人来值夜班，从晚上11点到早上7点。她可以付一小时65美分，而我可以今晚就开始工作。

我赶紧回家，接着打电话给街角的一个专门替人照管小孩的小姑娘。我让她来我家沙发上睡，经过讨价还价每晚付她一美元。她可以穿着自己的睡衣来，而那时孩子们多半已经入睡。这对她来说很划算，所以我们就这样定下了。那晚小家伙们和我都跪下来念祈祷词，感谢主让妈咪找到工作。就这样我开始在“大转盘”工作。

每天早晨我回到家，叫醒小保姆，然后从自己小费里拿出一美元来打发她回家--那差不多是我平均每晚得到的一半。而日子流逝，暖气费又消瘦了我本就微薄的钱包。而旧雪佛来的轮胎又有硬币大小的气孔，开始漏气。我不得不在上班的路上给他们打满气，然后每天早上回家前又再打一次。

一个阴冷的秋日早晨，我迈着沉重的步子走向车子打算回家，竟发现后座上有4个轮胎。新轮胎！却连一张便签也没有，什么都没有，只有那些全新的美丽的轮胎。天使们定居到印第安纳了么？我不由得想到。在当地的加油站，我和老板做了笔买卖。为了让他给我安装新轮胎，我愿意为他打扫办公室。我记得我擦洗地板的时间比他安轮胎的时间长得多。

我开始一周工作6天而不是5天，可是仍是入不敷出。圣诞节就要到了，而我知道没有钱给孩子们买玩具。我找到了一罐红油漆，然后开始修复一些旧玩具然后将其粉刷一新。接着我把它们藏到地下室，这样圣诞节早上就会有圣诞老人的礼物了。可衣服也是一大烦恼。我在男孩们的裤子上补丁缝补丁，可不久它们就会怎么补也无济于事了。

圣诞夜前夕，“大转盘”的老顾客们仍旧在那儿喝着咖啡。有卡车司机们，蕾丝Les，弗兰克Frank，和吉姆jim，还有个叫乔Joe的州警。乐团的一些音乐人演出后在那儿消磨时间，往弹球机里投币。而常客们则仅仅四散坐着，聊天直到凌晨，然后在太阳升起前各自回家。圣诞节早上7点，我该下班回家了，我匆匆朝停车的地方走去。希望在我回家之前孩子们还没醒，那么我就可以把礼物从地下室拿出来放到树下（我们已经在路边的垃圾场砍下一株小雪松。）。

天色依旧暗淡，而我视线模糊，但车里似乎有些黑影--或者仅仅是黑夜搞的鬼？可有些地方看来确实不同，可是哪儿呢，说不清。

等到了车边上，我小心地从侧玻璃看进去。然后看得我大惊失色。我老旧的雪佛兰里满是各种形状和大小的盒子，一直堆到了顶。我赶紧打开驾驶门挤进里面，屈膝面朝后座。伸手过去，我揭开最上面盒子的盖子。里面是一整箱的蓝色小牛仔裤，尺码从2号到10号！我又看了看另外一个盒子：那里满是和牛仔裤配套的衬衫。接着我又看了看其他的一些盒子：里面有糖果，坚果，香蕉和一包包的杂货。还有一个巨大

的供烘焙的火腿，罐装蔬菜和西红柿。有布丁，果冻，饼干，馅饼填料和面粉。还有一整包的洗衣用品和清洁用品。然后还有五个玩具卡车和一个美丽的小娃娃。在这个我一生中最神奇的圣诞节里，随着太阳的缓缓升起，当我穿过空荡的街道开车回家时，我热泪盈眶，充满感激。而我也将永不会忘记在那个珍贵的早晨，我的小家伙们脸上满溢的快乐。

是的，在那久已远去的12月，天使们现身于印第安纳。

而他们都在“大转盘”卡车休息站消磨时光。

本文标签： 孩子轮胎回家卡车时间