Sunday in the Park /by Bel Kaufman
http://web1.nbed.nb.ca/sites/ASD-S/1820/J%20Johnston/short%20stories/Sunday%20in%20the%20Park%20with%20questions%20March%2013%2C%202017.pdf
Lé-pài tī Kong-hn̂g | 禮拜 tī 公園
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1. Lán bē-sái iā soa-á!
Ē-tàu-bóe ê ji̍t-thâu iáu-koh sio-ho, thàu-kòe kong-hn̂g chhiū-nâ thoân-ji̍p ê siâⁿ-chhī cha̍p-im piàn khah kē koh tîm. Yi kā chheh khǹg-lo̍h tī tn̂g-í téng, thài-iông ba̍k-kiàⁿ pak lo̍h-lâi, sim-boán ì-chiok thó͘ chi̍t-ê khùi. Morton tng-teh tha̍k Times (Sî-pò) ê Cha̍p-chì choan-nôa, khòe chi̍t-ki chhiú tī yi ê keng-thâu; in ê saⁿ-hòe hāu-seⁿ Larry, tng-teh soa-siuⁿ sńg: un-jiû ê bî-hong khin-khin kā yi ê thâu-mo͘ chhoe kàu chhùi-phé. He sī lé-pài ē-tàu gō͘ tiám pòaⁿ, chhàng tī kong-hn̂g kak-lo̍h ê sió iû-hì-tiûⁿ hia, bô kúi-ê lâng. Chhiu-chhian hām khi̍h-kho̍k pang tiām-tiām tī hia, bô lâng sńg, chhu-pang khang-khang bô lâng, kan-ta tī soa-siuⁿ ū nn̄g-ê cha-po͘ gín-á khû sio-keh-piah teh bô-êng. Án-ne si̍t-chāi ū-kàu chán, yi án-ne siūⁿ, móa-móa ê hēng-hok-kám, hō͘ yi jím put-chū boeh bî-chhiò. In tio̍h khah chia̍p chhut-lâi pha̍k ji̍t-thâu chi̍t-ē; Morton seⁿ-chò siuⁿ sí-pe̍h, kui lé-pài ut tī he ná kang-tiûⁿ ê phú-sek tāi-ha̍k lāi-bīn. Yi to-chêng án-ne kā i ê chhiú-kut tēⁿ chi̍t-ē, koh lia̍h Larry gán chi̍t-ē, chin hoaⁿ-hí khòaⁿ tio̍h i he chiam-chiam sè-sè ê bīn, ba̍k-thâu kat-kat, choan-sim teh óe i ê pōng-khang. Lēng-gōa hit-ê cha-po͘ gín-á hiông-hiông khiā khí-lâi, tōa-kho͘-pé ê chhiú-kut kín koh thiau-kang hiù chi̍t-thio soa hiòng Larry. He soa tú-hó bô sàu tio̍h i ê thâu. Larry kè-sio̍k óe; hit-ê gín-á iáu-sī khiā tio̍h, soa-thio gia̍h leh, gāng-gāng, piáu-chêng chhâ-chhâ.
"M̄-mó, M̄-mó, gín-á hiaⁿ." Yi kō͘ chi̍t-ki chéng-thâu-á tùi i án-ne iô, ba̍k-chiu ná teh chhōe hit-ê gín-á ê lāu-bú a̍h ni-bú. "Lán bē-sái iā soa-á. Án-ne khó-lêng ē eng-tio̍h ba̍k-chiu, tō hāi ah. Tī chiah-hó ê soa-siuⁿ, lán tio̍h koai-koai-á sńg." Hit-ê gín-á ba̍k-chiu lia̍h yi khòaⁿ, nih to bô nih chi̍t-ē. I ê nî-hòe hām Larry chha-put-to, m̄-koh hoān-sè khah tāng 20 kilo, sī chi̍t-ê bah-bah ê gín-á, khòaⁿ khí-lâi bô chhiūⁿ Larry hiah hó-kha-chhíu koh liú-lia̍h. In lāu-bú tī tó-ūi ah? Tī iû-hì-tiûⁿ kî-thaⁿ ê lâng, kan-ta sī nn̄g-ê cha-bó͘-lâng hām chi̍t-ê cha-bó͘ gín-á, taⁿ yin tú-tú kiâⁿ-kòe tōa-mn̂g boeh lī-khui, iáu ū chi̍t-ê cha-po͘-lâng chē tī kúi-chhioh hn̄g ê tn̂g-í. He sī chi̍t-ê tōa-chhāi cha-po͘, i kiông boeh chiàm móa kui-tè tn̂g-í, kā Sunday (Lé-Pài) mangà chheh the̍h kah chiok óa i ê bīn. Yi jīn-tēng he tō sī gín-á ê lāu-pē. I ê ba̍k-chiu tèng tī mangà bô gia̍h-thâu, m̄-koh put chi̍t-ē ùi chhùi-kak phùi chhut chi̍t-kháu thâm. Yi kā ba̍k-chiu sóa-khui.
Tú-tú hit-ê sî-chūn, ná tú-chiah án-ne hiah kín, hit-ê tōa-kho͘ sè gín-á hiaⁿ koh hiù chi̍t-thio soa-á hiòng Larry. Chit-kái ū chi̍t-kóa iā tio̍h i ê thâu-mo͘ hām hia̍h-thâu. Larry gia̍h ba̍k-chiu khòaⁿ lāu-bú, chhùi bih chi̍t-ē bih chi̍t-ē; tán khòaⁿ lāu-bú ê piáu-chêng chiah koat-tēng sī m̄-sī tio̍h khàu chhut-lâi.
Yi ê tē-it ti̍t-kak sī chông hiòng yin kiáⁿ, kā soa-á ùi i ê thâu-chang póe tiāu, koh khì chhú-hoa̍t lēng-gōa hit-ê gín-á, m̄-koh yi khòng-chè tiâu leh. Yi chóng-sī kóng, yi ài Larry tio̍h o̍h ē-hiáu ka-tī khì chiàn.
"M̄-thang án-ne chò, gín-á hiaⁿ," yi ùi tn̂g-í téng àⁿ-sin, chiam-siaⁿ án-ne kóng. "Lí bē-sái iā soa-á!"
Tn̂g-í téng hit-ê cha-po͘ chhùi tín-tāng chi̍t-ē, ká-ná sī boeh koh phùi thâm, m̄-koh, soah sī khui-chhùi kóng-ōe. I bô khòaⁿ yi, kan-ta khòaⁿ hit-ê gín-á niā-niā.
"Joe, lí chò lí khì," i tōa-siaⁿ kóng. "Ài án-nóa iā lóng ē-sái. Chia sī chi̍t-ê kong-kiōng ê soa-siuⁿ."
Yi lia̍h Morton khòaⁿ chi̍t-ē, hut-jiân kám-kak kha-thâu-u nńg khì. I í-keng ì-sek tio̍h tng-teh hoat-seng ê tāi-chì. I sió-sim kā Sî-pò khǹg lo̍h tī tōa-thúi, oa̍t i he chheng-siù, sán-thiu ê bīn hiòng hit-ê lâng, kek chi̍t-ê kó͘-ì koh pháiⁿ-sè pháiⁿ-sè ê bî-chhiò, tō ná-chhiūⁿ i tī kí-chhut ha̍k-seng su-khó chhò-gō͘ ê sî só͘ khó-lêng ū ê hit-khoán bî-chhiò án-ne. Tán i khui-chhùi kap hit-lâng kóng-ōe ê sî, mā sī chi̍t-phài sù-siông ê lí-sèng.
"Lí kóng ê bô m̄-tio̍h," i khin-khoài án-ne kóng, "m̄-koh, in-ūi chia tú-hó sī chi̍t-ê kong-kiōng tiûⁿ-só͘..."
Hit-lâng pàng lo̍h i ê ang-á chheh, lia̍h Morton khòaⁿ. I kā i ùi thâu khòaⁿ kàu kha, bān-bān koh chim-chiok. "Sī oh?" I he chho͘-ló͘ ê khùi-kháu tòa chi̍t-chióng ui-hia̍p. "Goán kiáⁿ tī chia ê khoân-lī hām lín kiáⁿ ê kāng-khoán, i nā kah-ì iā soa, i tō iā. Lí nā bô kah-ì, lí ē-sái kā lín kiáⁿ kháiⁿ lī-khui chia."
Nn̄g-ê gín-á teh thiaⁿ, ba̍k-chiu tián-tōa, chhùi khui-khui, bē-kì-tit chhiú nih ê soa-thio. Yi chù-ì tio̍h Morton ē-hâi ê kin-bah giú ân. I chin chió siū-khì, hán-tit hoat sèng-tē. Yi chhiong-móa tùi ang ê un-jiû, tùi lēng-gōa hit-ê cha-po͘ lâng ū chi̍t-pak bô-miâ ê hóe: i hāi yin ang kô ji̍p chit-chióng chheⁿ-hūn koh thó-ià ê chêng-kéng.
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1. 咱袂使掖沙仔!
下晝尾 ê 日頭猶閣燒熇, 透過公園樹林傳入 ê 城市雜音變較低 koh 沉. 她 kā 冊囥落 tī 長椅頂, 太陽目鏡剝落來, 心滿意足吐一个氣. Morton tng-teh 讀 Times (Sî-pò) ê 雜誌專欄, khòe 一支手 tī 她 ê 肩頭; in ê 三歲後生 Larry, tng-teh 沙箱耍: 溫柔 ê 微風輕輕 kā 她 ê 頭毛吹到喙䫌. 彼是禮拜下晝五點半, 藏 tī 公園角落 ê 小遊戲場遐, 無幾个人. 秋千和 khi̍h-kho̍k 枋恬恬 tī 遐, 無人耍, 趨枋空空無人, 干焦 tī 沙箱有兩个查埔囡仔跍相隔壁 teh 無閒. Án-ne 實在有夠讚, 她 án-ne 想, 滿滿 ê 幸福感, 予她忍不住欲微笑. In 著較捷出來曝日頭一下; Morton 生做 siuⁿ 死白, 規禮拜 ut tī he ná 工場 ê 殕色大學內面. 她多情 án-ne kā 伊 ê 手骨捏一下, koh 掠 Larry 眼一下, 真歡喜看著伊 he 尖尖細細 ê 面, 目頭結結, 專心 teh 挖伊 ê 磅空. 另外彼个查埔囡仔雄雄徛起來, 大箍把 ê 手骨緊 koh 刁工 hiù 一挑沙向 Larry. He 沙拄好無掃著伊 ê 頭. Larry 繼續挖; 彼个囡仔猶是徛著, 沙挑攑 leh, 愣愣, 表情柴柴.
"M̄-mó, M̄-mó, 囡仔兄." 她 kō͘ 一支指頭仔對伊 án-ne 搖, 目睭 ná teh 揣彼个囡仔 ê 老母 a̍h 奶母. "咱袂使掖沙仔. Án-ne 可能會 eng 著目睭, tō 害 ah. Tī chiah 好 ê 沙箱, 咱著乖乖仔耍." 彼个囡仔目睭掠她看, nih to 無 nih 一下. 伊 ê 年歲和 Larry 差不多, 毋過凡勢較重 20 kilo, 是一个肉肉 ê 囡仔, 看起來無像 Larry hiah 好跤手 koh 扭掠. In 老母 tī 佗位 ah? Tī 遊戲場其他 ê 人, 干焦是兩个查某人和一个查某囡仔, 今姻拄拄行過大門欲離開, 猶有一个查埔人坐 tī 幾尺遠 ê 長椅. 彼是一个大 chhāi 查埔, 伊強欲佔滿規塊長椅, kā Sunday (禮拜) mangà 冊提甲足倚伊 ê 面. 她認定 he tō 是囡仔 ê 老爸. 伊 ê 目睭釘 tī mangà 無攑頭, 毋過 put 一下 ùi 喙角呸出一口痰. 她 kā 目睭徙開.
拄拄彼个時陣, ná 拄才 án-ne hiah 緊, 彼个大箍細囡仔兄 koh hiù 一挑沙仔向 Larry. 這改有一寡掖著伊 ê 頭毛和額頭. Larry 攑目睭看老母, 喙 bih 一下 bih 一下; 等看老母 ê 表情才決定是毋是著哭出來.
她 ê 第一直覺是傱向姻囝, kā 沙仔 ùi 伊 ê 頭鬃掰掉, koh 去處罰另外彼个囡仔, 毋過她控制牢 leh. 她總是講, 她愛 Larry 著學會曉家己去戰.
"毋通 án-ne 做, 囡仔兄," 她 ùi 長椅頂 àⁿ 身, 尖聲 án-ne 講. "你袂使掖沙仔!"
長椅頂彼个查埔喙振動一下, 敢若是欲 koh 呸痰, 毋過, 煞是開喙講話. 伊無看她, 干焦看彼个囡仔 niā-niā.
"Joe, 你做你去," 伊大聲講. "愛按怎掖 lóng 會使. 遮是一个公共 ê 沙箱."
她掠 Morton 看一下, 忽然感覺跤頭趺軟去. 伊已經意識著 tng-teh 發生 ê 代誌. 伊小心 kā 時報囥落 tī 大腿, 越伊 he 清秀, 瘦抽 ê 面向彼个人, 激一个古意 koh 歹勢歹勢 ê 微笑, tō 若像伊 tī 指出學生思考錯誤 ê 時所可能有 ê 彼款微笑 án-ne. 等伊開喙 kap 彼人講話 ê 時, mā 是一派四常 ê 理性.
"你講 ê 無毋著," 伊輕快 án-ne 講, "毋過, 因為遮拄好是一个公共場所..."
彼人放落伊 ê 尪仔冊, 掠 Morton 看. 伊 kā 伊 ùi 頭看到跤, 慢慢 koh 斟酌. "是 oh?" 伊 he 粗魯 ê 氣口帶一種威脅. "阮囝 tī 遮 ê 權利和恁囝 ê 仝款, 伊若佮意掖沙, 伊 tō 掖. 你若無佮意, 你會使 kā 恁囝 kháiⁿ 離開遮."
兩个囡仔 teh 聽, 目睭展大, 喙開開, 袂記得手 nih ê 沙挑. 她注意著 Morton 下頦 ê 筋肉搝絚. 伊真少受氣, 罕得發性地. 她充滿對翁 ê 溫柔, 對另外彼个查埔人有一腹無名 ê 火: 伊害姻翁 kô 入這種生份 koh 討厭 ê 情境.
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1.
It was still warm in the late-afternoon sun, and the city noises came muffled through the trees in the park. She put her book down on the bench, removed her sunglasses, and sighed contentedly. Morton was reading the Times Magazine section, one arm flung around her shoulder; their three-year-old son, Larry, was playing in the sandbox: a faint breeze fanned her hair softly against her cheek. It was five-thirty of a Sunday afternoon, and the small playground, tucked away in a corner of the park, was all but deserted. The swings and seesaws stood motionless and abandoned, the slides were empty, and only in the sandbox two little boys squatted diligently side by side. How good this is, she thought, and almost smiled at her sense of well-being. They must out in the sun more often; Morton was so city-pale, cooped up all week inside the gray factorylike university. She squeezed his arm affectionately and glanced at Larry, delighting in the pointed little face frowning in concentration over the tunnel he was digging. The other boy suddenly stood up and with a quick, deliberate swing of his chubby arm threw a spadeful of sand at Larry. It just missed his head. Larry continued digging; the boy remained standing, shovel raised, stolid and impassive.
“No, no, little boy.” She shook her finger at him, her eyes searching for the child’s mother or nurse. “We mustn’t throw sand. It may get in someone’s eyes and hurt. We must play nicely in the nice sandbox.” The boy looked at her in unblinking expectancy. He was about Larry’s age but perhaps ten pounds heavier, a husky little boy with none of Larry’s quickness and sensitivity in his face. Where was his mother? The only other people left in the playground were two women and a little girl on roller skates leaving now through the gate, and man on a bench a few feet away. He was a big man, and he seemed to be taking up the whole bench as he held the Sunday comics close to his face. She supposed he was the child’s father. He did not look up from his comics, but spat once deftly out of the corner of his mouth. She turned her eyes away.
At that moment, as swiftly as before, the fat little boy threw another spadeful of sand at Larry. This time some of it landed on his hair and forehead. Larry looked up at his mother, his mouth tentative; her expression would tell him whether to cry or not.
Her first instinct was to rush to her son, brush the sand out of his hair, and punish the other child, but she controlled it. She always said that she wanted Larry to learn to fight his own battles.
“Don’t do that, little boy,” she said sharply, leaning forward on the bench. “You mustn’t throw sand!”
The man on the bench moved his mouth as if to spit again, but instead he spoke. He did not look at her, but at the boy only.
“You go right ahead, Joe,” he said loudly. “Throw all you want. This here is a public sandbox.”
She felt a sudden weakness in her knees as she glanced at Morton. He had become aware of what was happening. He put his Times down carefully on his lap and turned his fine, lean face toward the man, smiling the shy, apologetic smile he might have offered a student in pointing out an error in his thinking. When he spoke to the man, it was with his usual reasonableness.
“You’re quite right,” he said pleasantly, “but just because this is a public place….”
The man lowered his funnies and looked at Morton. He looked at him from head to foot, slowly and deliberately. “Yeah?” His insolent voice was edged with menace. “My kid’s got just as good right here as yours, and if he feels like throwing sand, he’ll throw it, and if you don’t like it, you can take your kid the hell out of here.”
The children were listening, their eyes and mouths wide open, their spades forgotten in small fists. She noticed the muscle in Morton’s jaw tighten. He was rarely angry; he seldom lost his temper. She was suffused with a tenderness for her husband and an impotent rage against the man for involving him in a situation so alien and so distasteful to him.
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