故事发生在核危机降临的一个周日下午，一家人在避难所中紧张准备，面临生死存亡的选择。当邻居们前来寻求庇护时，父亲在保护家庭与人性的矛盾中挣扎，最终决定优先确保自家人的安全。这一决定引发了对道德、责任和生存本能的深刻反思。
Unit 16B - Who Shall Dwell?
Who Shall Dwell?
H. C. Neal
It came on a Sunday afternoon and that was good, because if it had happened on a weekday the father would have been at work and the children at school, leaving the mother at home alone and the whole family disorganized with hardly any hope at all. They had prayed that it would never come, ever, but suddenly here it was.
The father, a slender, young-old man, slightly stooped from years of labor, was resting on the sofa and half-listening to a program of waltz music on the radio. Mother was in the kitchen preparing a chicken for dinner and the younger boy and girl were in the bedroom drawing crude pictures of familiar barnyard animals on a shared slate. The older boy was in the shed out back, cleaning some harnesses.
Suddenly the program was cut off. The announcer almost shouted:
"Bomb alert! Bomb alert! Attention! Attention! A number of missiles have just been launched across the sea, heading this way. Attention. They are expected to strike within the next sixteen minutes. This is a verified alert! Take cover! Keep your radios tuned for further instructions."
"My God!" the father gasped. His face was ashen, puzzled, as though he knew beyond a shadow of doubt that this was real—but still could not quite believe it.
"Get the children," his wife blurted, then dashed to the door to call the older boy. He stared at her a brief moment, seeing the fear in her face, but also a loathing for all men involved in the making and dispatch of nuclear weapons.
The father jumped to his feet, and ran to the bedroom. "Let's go," he snapped, "shelter drill!" Although they had had many rehearsals, his voice and manner sent the youngsters dashing for the door without a word.
He pushed them through the kitchen to the rear door and sent them to the shelter. As he returned to the bedroom for outer garments for himself and his wife, the older boy came running in.
"This is the hot one, son," said his father tersely, "the real one." He and the boy stared at each other a long moment, both knowing what must be done and each knowing the other would more than do his share, yet wondering still at the frightening fact that it must be done at all.
"How much time have we got, Dad?"
"Not long," the father replied, glancing at his watch, "twelve, maybe fourteen minutes."
The boy disappeared into the front room, going after the flashlight and battery radio. The father stepped to the closet, slid the door open and picked up the metal box containing their important papers, marriage license, birth certificates, etc. He tossed the box on the bed and then picked up the big family Bible from the headboard on the bed.
Everything else they would need had been stored in the shelter the past several months. He heard his wife approaching and turned as she entered the room.
"Ready, dear?" she asked.
"Yes," he replied, "are the kids gone in?"
"They're all down," she answered, "I still can't believe it's real."
"We've got to believe it," he said, looking her steadily in the eye, "we can't afford not to."
Outside, the day was crisp and clear, typical of early fall. Just right for boating on the river, fishing or bird shooting. An excellent day, he thought, for fleeing underground to escape the hell of a nuclear strike. He looked at his watch again. Four minutes had elapsed since the first alarm. Twelve minutes, more or less, remained.
Inside the shelter, he latched the door, and looked around to see that his family was squared away. His wife was checking the food supplies, assisted by her older son. The small children had already put their fright behind them, as is the nature of youngsters, and were drawing on the slate again in quiet, busy glee.
Now it began. The waiting.
The man and his wife knew that others would come soon, begging and crying to be taken in now that the time was here. They had argued about this when the shelter was being built. It was in her mind to share their refuge.
"We can't call ourselves Christians and then deny safety to our friends when the showdown comes," she contended, "that isn't what God teaches."
"That's nothing but religious pap," he retorted with a degree of anger. "God created the family as the basic unit of society," he reasoned. "That should make it plain that a man's primary Christian duty is to protect his family."
"But don't you see?" she protested, "we must prepare to purify ourselves... to rise above this 'mine' thinking and be as God's own son, who said, 'love thy neighbor.'"
"No," he replied, "I can't buy that. Then, after a moment's thought while he groped for the words to make her understand the truth which burned in the core of his soul, "It is my family I must save, no one more. You. These kids. Our friends are like the people of Noah's time: he warned them of the coming flood when he built the ark on God's command. He was ridiculed and scoffed at, just as we have been ridiculed. No," and here his voice took on a new sad sureness, "it is meant that if they don't prepare, they die. I see no need for further argument."
With seven minutes left, the first knock rang the shelter door. "Let us in! For God's sake."
He recognized the voice. It was his first neighbor toward town.
"No!" shouted the father, "there is only room for us. Go! Take shelter in your homes. You may yet be spared."
Again came the pounding. Louder. More urgent.
"You let us in or we'll break down this door!" He wondered if they were actually getting a ram of some sort to batter at the door. He was reasonably certain it would hold.
The seconds ticked relentlessly away. Four minutes left.
His wife stared at the door and moaned slightly. "Steady, girl," he said, evenly. The children looked at him, frightened, puzzled. He glared at his watch, ran his hands through his hair, and said nothing.
Three minutes left.
At that moment, a woman cried from the outside, "If you won't let me in, please take my baby, my little girl."
He was stunned by her plea. What must I do? He asked himself in sheer agony. What man on earth could deny a child the chance to live?
At that point, his wife rose, and stepped to the door. Before he could move to stop her, she let down the latch and dashed outside. Instantly a three-year old girl was thrust into the shelter. He hastily fought the door latch on again, then stared at the frightened little newcomer in anger, hating her for simply being there in his wife's place and knowing he could not turn her out.
He sat down heavily, trying desperately to think.
The voices outside grew louder. He glanced at his watch, looked at the faces of his own children a long moment, then rose to his feet. There were two minutes left, and he made his decision. He marveled now that he had even considered any other choice.
"Son," he said to the older boy, "you take care of them." It was as simple as that.
Unlatching the door, he thrust it open and stepped out. The crowd surged toward him. Blocking the door with his body, he snatched up the two children nearest him, and shoved them into the shelter. "Bar that door," he shouted to his son, and don't open it for at least a week!"
Hearing the latch drop into place, he turned and glanced around at the faces in the crowd. Some of them were still babbling incoherently, utterly panic-stricken. Others were quiet now, no longer afraid.
Stepping to his wife's side, he took her hand and spoke in a warm, low tone. "They will be all right, the boy will lead them." He grinned reassuringly and added, "We should be together, you and I."
She smiled wordlessly through her tears and squeezed his hand, exchanging with him in the one brief gesture a lifetime and more of devotion.
Then struck the first bomb, blinding them, burning them, blasting them into eternity.
参考译文——生的机会留给谁？
生的机会留给谁？
H·C·尼尔
事情发生在一个星期日的下午，幸好如此，因为如果是在工作日，父亲去工作，孩子们去上学，只留下妈妈一人在家，全家聚不到一起，几乎没有任何希望。他们祈祷事情永远不要发生，但它还是突然就发生了。
父亲是一位身材偏瘦、老当益壮的人，多年的劳动使他脊背微驼。他正靠在沙发上休息， 漫不经心地收听着收音机里播放的华尔兹音乐节目。母亲在厨房里准备晚饭要吃的鸡肉，小儿子和女儿在卧室里的一块石板上画农场里常见的动物。大儿子在屋后的牲口棚里清洗马具。
突然，电台节目中断了。播音员几乎是大声地喊叫道：
“空袭警报！空袭警报！注意！注意！大海的对岸刚刚发射了若干枚导弹，正向此处飞来。注意！预计导弹16分钟内抵达。这是经核实后发布的警报！请隐蔽！请不要关掉收音机，注意收听进一步的指示。”
“我的上帝！”父亲喘着气说。他脸色灰白，惊疑不定，尽管他知道这是真的——但仍不能完全相信。
“孩子们！”他的妻子脱口说道，然后冲到门口去叫大儿子。在盯着她的瞬间，他看到了她脸上的恐惧，还有对所有参与制造和发射核武器的人的厌恶。
父亲跳起来冲向卧室。他厉声说道：“快！我们去避难所！”尽管他们已进行过多次演习，他的声音和举止令孩子们一声不吭地朝门口冲去。
他推着他们穿过厨房，来到后门，到了避难所。当他回到卧室收拾他和妻子的外套时，大儿子跑了进来。
“儿子，这可是一次激战。”他父亲简短地说，“是来真的。”父子二人对望了一会，两人都明白自己的职责是什么，也都知道对方会竭尽全力；但想到接下来将要面对的事还是令人心生恐惧。
“我们还有多少时间，爸爸？”
“时间不多了，”爸爸瞥了一眼手表说，“十二，或许十四分钟。”
男孩冲进了起居室，去寻找手电筒和用电池的收音机。父亲走到壁橱前，拉开柜门，拿出一个金属盒，里面装着一些重要文件：结婚证书、出生证明等。他把盒子扔在床上，从床头板上拿起家里的大圣经。
过去几个月来，除了这些之外，他们所需要的所有东西都藏在避难所里。 他听到妻子正朝卧室走来，并在她进屋的时候转过身来。
“准备好了吗，亲爱的？”她问。
“是的，”他答道，“孩子们进去了吗？”
“他们都下去了，”她回答说，“我仍然无法相信这是真的。”
“我们必须要相信它，”他望着她平静地说，“我们无法承担不相信的后果。”
外边，秋高气爽，是典型的初秋天气，正适合在河上划船、垂钓或猎鸟。他想，多么好的天气，却要钻到地下来躲避该死的核弹轰炸。他再次看了看手表。从第一次警报后，已经过去了四分钟。或多或少，还剩12分钟。
进入避难所，他锁上了门，环顾四周，看到他的家人都已安顿好了。他的妻子正在大儿子的帮助下检查食物储备。小儿子和女儿出于孩子的天性，已经把恐惧抛到脑后，重新在石板上安静地作起画来，忙得高兴极了。
现在，等待开始了。
男人和他的妻子知道其他人很快就会来，哭喊着乞求被收留，因为时间已经不多了。在修建避难所时他们就曾为此而争论过。她主张分享避难所。
她坚持说：“我们自称基督徒，而在关键时刻却不让朋友们来避难，上帝不是这样教导我们的。”
他生气地反驳说：“那只是毫无意义的宗教说教。”“上帝创造了家庭这个基本的社会单位，”他据理力争，“也就是说，保护他的家人是每个男人作为基督徒的首要责任。”
“但是你没有看见吗？”她抗议道，“我们必须要净化自己……超越这个‘我’的境界而像上帝之子般行事，他教导我们要‘爱汝邻居’。”
“不。”他回答说，“我不信那个。”随后一会儿，他绞尽脑汁地寻找说辞，好让她明白他烙印在灵魂深处的真理。“我必须要保护我的家人，你和这些孩子，其他人一概不管。我们的朋友就像诺亚时代的人：诺亚按照神的命令建好了诺亚方舟，警告别人洪水即将到来，却受到讥讽和嘲笑，就像我们曾受到嘲笑那样。所以不行，”这时他的语气坚定，又显得悲哀，“这就意味着， 如果他们不作准备，他们就得死。我认为无需继续争论。”
还剩七分钟时，避难所外首次传来敲门声。“让我们进去！看在上帝的份上! ”
他认出了这声音。这是他靠近城里的第一家邻居。
“不行！”父亲喊到，“这里只能容纳下我们。走吧！回你家里去躲避吧。你们会没事的。”
敲门声再次传来。越来越大，越来越急促。
“让我们进去，否则我们就把门撞坏！”他不知道他们是否真的会拿东西砸门。但他确信门能支撑住。
时间在无情地消逝。还剩四分钟了。
他的妻子盯着门，低声抱怨着。他平静地说:“放心吧，姑娘。”孩子们看着他，既害怕，又茫然。他紧盯着手表，手插进头发里，一声不吭。
还剩三分钟。
这时，外面传来一个女人的哭声，“如果你不让我进去，请让我的孩子、我的小女儿进去吧。”
她的恳求让他茫然失措。我该怎么办呢？他痛苦地问自己。一个男人究竟如何才能拒绝一个孩子生的机会呢？
这时，他的妻子站起来，朝门口走去。他还没来得及阻拦，她已经放下门闩，冲到了外面。一个三岁的女孩立即被塞进了避难所。他急匆匆地再次把门锁上，怒目注视着这位受惊的小女孩，痛恨她如此简单地就占了妻子的地方，自己却无法把她驱赶出去。
他重重地坐下来，拼命地思考。
外面的声音越来越响了。他看了看手表，盯着自己的孩子们的脸看了很长一段时间，然后站了起来。还有两分钟了，他作出了决定。他为自己甚至考虑过其他选择而感到惊讶。
“儿子，”他对大儿子说，“照顾好他们。”就这么简单。
他打开门闩，推开门走了出去。许多人朝他涌来。他用自己的身体挡住了门，抓起离他最近的两个孩子并把他们推进了避难所。“闩上门，”他向儿子大声喊道，“至少一个星期不要打开它！”
听到门闩落回原位后，他转过身，朝众人望去。有些人彻底惊慌失措，仍在语无伦次地说话。而其他人则显得很安静，不再害怕了。
他走到妻子身边，拉着她的手，温柔地低声说：“他们会没事的，大儿子会带好他们的。”然后露齿一笑，安慰地补充说，“我们应该在一起，你和我。”
她什么也没说，含着泪水对他笑了，她紧紧抓着他的手，用一个简短的动作，和他交换了一辈子，甚至不止一辈子的挚爱。
随后，第一枚炸弹落了下来，灼伤了他们的眼睛，烧毁了他们的身体，将他们送往了永恒。
Key Words:
minutes ['minits]
n. 会议记录，(复数)分钟
waltz [wɔ:lts]
n. 华尔滋
disorganized [dis'ɔ:ɡənaizd]
adj. 无组织的；紊乱的
shed [ʃed]
n. 车棚，小屋，脱落物
vt. 使 ...
heading ['hediŋ]
n. 标题，题目，航向
动词head的现在分词
slender ['slendə]
adj. 细长的，苗条的，微薄的，少量的
shadow ['ʃædəu]
n. 阴影，影子，荫，阴暗，暗处
vt. 投阴
alert [ə'lə:t]
adj. 警觉的，灵敏的
n. 警戒，警报
slate [sleit]
n. 板岩，石板，石片，石板色，候选人名单 adj. 暗
kitchen ['kitʃin]
n. 厨房，(全套)炊具，灶间
license ['laisəns]
n. 执照，许可证，特许
vt. 允许，特许，
loathing ['ləuðiŋ]
n. 嫌恶 adj. 厌恶的 vt. 讨厌（loathe
drill [dril]
n. 钻孔机，钻子，反复操练，播种机
v. 钻
shelter ['ʃeltə]
n. 庇护所，避难所，庇护
v. 庇护，保护，
kitchen ['kitʃin]
n. 厨房，(全套)炊具，灶间
dispatch [dis'pætʃ]
v. 派遣，迅速做完，立即处死
n. 派遣，发
minutes ['minits]
n. 会议记录，(复数)分钟
frightening ['fraitniŋ]
adj. 令人恐惧的，令人害怕的 动词frighten的
minutes ['minits]
n. 会议记录，(复数)分钟
typical ['tipikəl]
adj. 典型的，有代表性的，特有的，独特的
refuge ['refju:dʒ]
n. 避难(处), 庇护(所)
v. 庇护，避
escape [is'keip]
v. 逃跑，逃脱，避开
n. 逃跑，逃脱，(逃
shelter ['ʃeltə]
n. 庇护所，避难所，庇护
v. 庇护，保护，
slate [sleit]
n. 板岩，石板，石片，石板色，候选人名单 adj. 暗
strike [straik]
n. 罢工，打击，殴打
core [kɔ:]
n. 果心，核心，要点
vt. 挖去果核
protect [prə'tekt]
vt. 保护，投保
plain [plein]
n. 平原，草原
adj. 清楚的，坦白的，简
primary ['praiməri]
adj. 主要的，初期的，根本的，初等教育的
shelter ['ʃeltə]
n. 庇护所，避难所，庇护
v. 庇护，保护，
purify ['pjuərifai]
v. (使）净化，（使）精炼，涤罪
minutes ['minits]
n. 会议记录，(复数)分钟
understand [.ʌndə'stænd]
vt. 理解，懂，听说，获悉，将 ... 理解为，认为<
command [kə'mɑ:nd]
n. 命令，指挥，控制
evenly ['i:vənli]
adv. 平衡地，平坦地，平等地
puzzled
adj. 困惑的；搞糊涂的；茫然的
agony ['ægəni]
n. 极度的痛苦，挣扎
frightened ['fraitnd]
adj. 受惊的，受恐吓的
slightly ['slaitli]
adv. 些微地，苗条地
plea [pli:]
n. 恳求，申诉，请愿，抗辩，借口
thrust [θrʌst]
n. 推力，刺，力推
v. 插入，推挤，刺
certain ['sə:tn]
adj. 确定的，必然的，特定的
pron.
relentlessly
adv. 残酷地，无情地
sheer [ʃiə]
adj. 纯粹的，全然的，陡峭的
decision [di'siʒən]
n. 决定，决策
thrust [θrʌst]
n. 推力，刺，力推
v. 插入，推挤，刺
gesture ['dʒestʃə]
n. 手势，姿态
v. 作手势表达
devotion [di'vəuʃən]
n. 虔诚，祈祷，献身，奉献，热爱
shelter ['ʃeltə]
n. 庇护所，避难所，庇护
v. 庇护，保护，
tone [təun]
n. 音调，语气，品质，调子，色调
vt. 使
minutes ['minits]
n. 会议记录，(复数)分钟
spoke [spəuk]
v. 说，说话，演说
参考资料：
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