A Pair of New Shoes
By Elsie Phillips
“Don’t you just love my new shoes ”
Rebecca’s eyes shine with delight as she places a pair of elegant high⁃heeled shoes in my lap.Theshoesareimpeccableintheirsimplicity，andnothingbutmyoldknobbyhandsmar their sleek lines.
“Such fine leather These are lovely.”
“And only eighty⁃five dollars ”
“Heavens I must be getting old，Rebecca.That seems a great deal of money for a pair of shoes.”
“Oh，Nana，I knew you’d say that.”
Rebecca’s lustrous hair swings in a soft curl as she leans forward to touch my cheek with a kiss.Her perfume embodies the essence of spring and of youth.At twenty⁃three，she is the baby of the family.
“Now，don’t fall asleep，Nana.Your party’s about to begin，”she whispers，and slips out of the room.
Sleep.It would be so easy to let my wrinkled eyelids droop and to fall asleep like a fat，old cat in the sun.I blink several times to keep awake and turn my gaze to the dining room where a silver bowl of yellow roses graces the table in honor of my eighty⁃sixth birthday.The linen has been laid and soon I shall feel its crispness beneath my fingertips.The heavy silverware is in place and for a moment I wonder if my weak，old hands will handle it without embarrassing clatters on the delicate china.The comforting sound of voices and dinner preparations lulls me and I begin to caress the smooth，cool leather of Rebecca’s new shoes，which lie in my lap.With each touch，I relax，I let go.With each touch I remember another pair of shoes so long ago.“Was I only thirty⁃nine Impossible ”I can almost hear the voice that called to me as I stood in my garden on that scorching afternoon in that relentless summer of 1935.
“Missus，say，Missus ”
The husky voice startled me and I turned quickly.The man at the fence was young，hardly twenty，with blond hair tousled like a little boy’s.His clothes were dusty and rumpled，and I eyed him warily.I often saw ragged，tired，solitary men pass by the house from the rail yards nearby，men off the freights，men moving about the country，looking for work.My Jack was out there somewhere，too.
“Missus，could I please have a drink of water ”
“Come into the yard，”I called，and pointed to the enameled cup that hung over the outdoor tap.I had just filled three pails of water for my garden and had set them to warm in the sun.The tap still dripped.
He drank in great gulps，swallowing slowly，and then splashed water on his face and ran his hands over his dusty hair and along the back of his neck.“That feels food，”he said，by way of thanks，and stood there，self⁃conscious and awkward，a sudden tenseness coming over him when he noticed the pails sitting in the sun.
“Have you any work I can do for you Weed and water your garden ”
Some garden The bean and tomato plants struggled to survive in ground that was hard and cracked，and the sparse patch of lawn was no better.What work could I offer him The houserequired a coat of paint，but paint cost money，and I had none.I made a pretense of looking around，before shaking my head.
When he dropped to the grass and placed his head on folded arms，I felt his tiredness and despair.A sudden tightness caught at my throat.He could be my son，I thought.He looks as young as Alice.I knew he must be hungry.What could I give him The ice⁃box held so little some milk，a knob of butter，and a few slices of bologna for Alice’s supper.
“Come in out of the sun.Sit on the porch，”I said，surprised at the brusqueness of my command.“I’ll get you something to eat.”Emotions had a way of getting mixed up these difficult days and I couldn’t trust mine，just as I couldn’t bear the shame⁃faced look of gratitude in his eyes.As I climbed the steps to the house，I became angry at myself，at my helplessness，at my empty cupboards，at the unrelenting drought，at the whole darn suffering country.
I sliced a loaf of bread with vicious swipes of the knife，jerked open the ice⁃box for milk，twisted the lid off a jar of homemade jam，as though my frenzied actions would wipe out the feeling of guilt at offering him so little.When I carried the food to the porch，I saw the boy near the garden，rinsing his shirt in one of the pails.I beckoned to him，left him my scanty offering，and returned indoors.
Despite the drawn blinds，the house had trapped the heat and had become an airless box of yellow light.My flowered print dress clung to me in wet patches.On each patch，the faded daisies dared to bloom.I dropped into an armchair and swung my swollen feet up on a hassock.
When the sharp slap of the screen door awakened me，I was startled.
“Mama，where are you ”
I struggled to my feet and found Alice sitting at the kitchen table，her head and shoulders bowed in dejection.
“Mama，Acme Stores are hiring next week.”She raised her head and stared into my face.“The employment officer said girls would be hired only if they were properly dressed.”Her brown eyes sought confirmation that I understood her statement.“That means stockings and a decent pair of shoes，Mama，and look at me ”She thrust out her feet in their dusty running shoes.
Instinctively，I glanced at the old felt slippers I wore.There were no shoes in the house that could meet Acme’s standards，and there was no money to buy a new pair.My heart ached with the folly of having sent my young one to find work，and I stepped behind her chair to comfort her with a hug.
“Honey，we have a whole week to work on it.”I kissed her soft hair，still warm from the sun.“Maybe something will come our way.”
“That’s what you always say，Mama.What’s the use of hoping ”
It wasn’t till I began to prepare our meager supper that I remembered the young man，and I went to the porch for my tray.Had I found him sitting at the old wicker table，as dejected as Alice，I suppose I would have kissed the top of his head，too，before sending him on his way.I sent him a silent wish，instead.Take care，young man.
All that week the sun continued to scorch the land.I watered my garden in the cool of themornings，witheachcupfulwillingtheplantstogrowandbearfruit.Thismorningritual of mine became my morning prayer.As I stooped in the garden with my pitiful cups of water，I prayed for Jack and Alice to find work；I prayed for Jack’s safety on the road；I prayed for Jack’s safety on the road；I prayed for the forlorn，beaten land，and for the young man who had come and gone and had asked for so little.
The week after his stop at my gate，I watered，as usual.A hot，fitful breeze sent sheets of torn and dirty newspapers scudding across the yard and into the caragana hedge.Trapped in the branches，the papers flapped and rustled like large alien birds.As I crossed the yard to gather them up，a flash of white in the mailbox caught my eye.Jack，I thought immediately and hurried to the box.
The envelope bore no stamp，no name，and no address，but contained a message penciled on a scrap of brown paper
To the lady in the gardenD
I got a job at a warehouse after you fed me and let me rest.
You helped me feel and look respectable.Now，let me help you.
Folded within the paper were three one⁃dollar bills.
I stared at the money in my hand and saw again the young man with tousled hair and dusty shirt.My lips began to quiver，but this was not the time for crying.“Alice，honey，please hurry，”I called，as I ran into the house.“You are going shopping for the best pair of shoes you can find.You will be the neatest girl in Acme’s lineup tomorrow morning ”
“Mama，are you awake Are you ready for your birthday dinner ”
I open my eyes and see I am surrounded by the people I love gentle Alice，now gray and heavy；young Rebecca，vivacious and pretty，and all the others，old and young.
“You were telling yourself a story，weren’t you，Mama ”Alice says，teasing.“It must have been a happy story，Mama，you had a smile on your face.”
As I struggle to my feet，Rebecca’s new shoes slide off my lap and fall to the carpet with a soft thud.
一双新鞋
【加拿大】埃尔西·菲利普斯
“您不喜欢我的新鞋吗？”
丽贝卡边说边把一双华丽的高跟鞋放在我的膝上，眼睛闪烁着快乐的光芒。鞋简洁得无懈可击，美中不足的是我那双骨节突出的老手破坏了鞋精致的线条。
“多好的皮质！真漂亮。”
“才八十五美元！”
“天哪！我一定是老啦，丽贝卡，买双鞋要花那么多钱吗？”
“哦，奶奶，我就知道您会这么说。”
丽贝卡俯身吻了吻我的面颊，有光泽的秀发随着她的动作画出了一道柔和的曲线。她身上的香水散发着春天和青春的芳香。二十三岁的丽贝卡是家里的小宝贝。
“好啦，别睡着啦，奶奶，您的晚会就要开始了。”她对我耳语，然后就溜出了房间。
睡着？我满是皱纹的眼帘很容易耷拉下来，我也很容易像一只胖胖的老猫那样在阳光下睡着。我眨了几下眼睛以免睡着，又转移视线，凝视着餐厅桌上银杯里的黄玫瑰，那是庆祝我八十六岁生日的装饰。台布已经铺好，我马上就可以用手指感受它的质感。重重的银器已经摆放就绪。一时间，我都怀疑自己这双苍老的手还能不能握得住银器，会不会在易碎的瓷器上撞出令人尴尬的铿锵声。令人欣慰的说话声和准备就餐的声音令我昏昏欲睡，于是我开始抚摸膝上丽贝卡的那双新鞋滑滑的、凉凉的皮面。我每摸一下，就放松一次，就让思绪流走一次。我一次次触摸着，回忆起很久很久以前的另一双鞋。
“当时我才三十九岁吗？不可能！”我几乎能够听得见那声呼唤。那是一九三五年的一个酷热的夏天，一个热浪灼人的下午，我站在自家的花园里。
“太太，嗨，太太！”
一个沙哑的声音唬了我一跳。我急忙转过身来，只见篱笆外面站着一个不足二十岁的年轻人，金黄色的头发乱蓬蓬的，像个小男孩，衣服皱巴巴的满是灰尘。我警觉地注视着他，因为我常常看到一个个衣衫褴褛、满脸疲惫的男人从家门口经过，他们来自附近的停车场，是从货车上下来的，在乡下四处流窜找活儿干。我的儿子杰克也在外面的某个地方。
“太太，我能喝口水吗？”
“进院吧。”我对他喊道，又指了指挂在门外水龙头上的搪瓷缸子。我刚刚灌满三桶水准备浇园子，还把水桶放在阳光下暖着，水龙头上还滴着水呢。
他大口大口地喝着，慢慢地咽着，然后把水撩到脸上，用双手捋了捋落满灰尘的头发和脖梗。“这样感觉好极啦。”他说道，用这种方式来表达谢意。接着，他意识到了什么，有些不自然，看到阳光下的水桶以后突然紧张起来。
“我能给您干点什么活儿吗？给园子除除草或者浇浇水什么的？”
这算是什么园子！豆秧和西红柿在龟裂干硬的土地里挣扎着活着，那片稀疏的草坪也不怎么样。我有什么活儿能让他干？房子需要刷一层油漆，可是油漆要花钱买，而我身无分文。于是，我装模作样地环顾了一下四周，然后摇了摇头。
看着他颓坐在草地上，双手抱着头，我能感觉到他身体的疲惫和内心的绝望。我的喉部忽地一紧，我想，他看起来跟爱丽丝一样大，他都可以做我的儿子。我知道他一定是饿了，我能给他些什么？冰箱里的那点儿食物少得可怜：一点牛奶，一节黄油，几片大红肠。可那是爱丽丝的晚餐呐。
“来，到门廊里坐坐吧，不要站在日头底下。”我说道，为自己所下的唐突的命令而吃惊。“我给你弄点儿吃的。”在那些艰难的岁月里，各种各样的情感百味杂陈，我都不敢相信自己的情感，正如我不忍看他窘迫的脸和眼中的感激一样。我踏上台阶进屋的时候，跟自己生起气来，气自己的无助，气自己空空如也的碗橱，气这场无情的大旱，气这个受苦受难的国家。
我拿起刀，恶狠狠地切下一片面包，猛地拉开冰箱，取出牛奶，拧开一罐自制果酱的盖子，好像这种狂乱的举动可以清除只能给他提供这么点儿食物的歉疚似的。等我把食物端到门廊，我看见那个孩子在园子附近，在一个桶里洗他的衬衫呢。我向他招了招手，把那点食物放下，转身回了屋。
尽管已经把百叶窗拉了下来，屋里还是不散热，变成了一个被黄色的光线笼罩的不透气的箱子。我湿透了的印花上衣一块一块地贴在身上，每一块上都有雏菊在肆意地盛开。我瘫坐在扶手椅里，把红肿的双脚架在跪垫上。纱门刺耳的开门声把我惊醒，我吓了一跳。
“妈妈，您在哪里？”
我挣扎着站了起来，发现爱丽丝正坐在餐桌前，垂头丧气的，肩也耷拉着。
“妈妈，埃克姆商店下星期要招工，”她抬起头来盯着我的脸说，“职业介绍所的人说，只有穿着得体的女孩才会被录用。”她褐色的眼睛在分辨我是不是听懂了她所说的话。“这意味着要有双袜子和一双体面的鞋，妈妈，可您看看我！”她把脚从脏兮兮的跑鞋里抽出来给我看。
我本能地扫了一眼自己穿的旧毡拖鞋。家里没有一双鞋符合埃克姆店的要求，也没有钱买新鞋。我为打发年幼的孩子去找工作而心痛，于是走到椅子后面拥抱她，安慰她。
“亲爱的，我们还有一周时间来想办法，”我吻了吻她那柔软的，还带着阳光温暖的头发。“也许我们会因为什么事顺起来。”
“您总是这么说，妈妈，可老是憧憬又有什么用？”
直到准备简单的晚饭的时候，我才想起了那个小伙子，于是便去前廊取盘子。如果我发现他像爱丽丝一样沮丧地坐在旧柳条桌前的话，我想我也会在送他上路前吻他的额头的。而现在，我默默地祝福他一声：珍重，小伙子。
那一周，烈日继续烘烤着大地。我趁着清早稍有凉意的时候给园子浇水，每浇一缸水，心中都期盼着秧苗长大，开花结果。我这种早晨的仪式成了我的早祷。手里拿着可怜的缸子在花园俯身浇水的时候，我祈祷杰克和爱丽丝找到工作，我祈祷杰克一路平安，我为这块遭受打击的可怜的土地祈祷，我为那个来了又去了，要求如此之少的小伙子祈祷。
他在我家门口停留过的一个星期以后，我还像往常一样地浇水。一阵阵灼热的微风吹起一张张肮脏破烂的旧报纸，掠过庭院，落到角落围篱上。报纸挂在树枝上，像异国的大鸟一样扑动着，沙沙作响。我穿过庭院收拾报纸时，邮箱里的一个白色东西一闪，吸引了我的视线。杰克，我立刻想到，于是急忙向邮箱走去。
是一个信封，上面没有贴邮票，没有写姓名，也没有写地址，里面只有一张棕色的纸片，上面用铅笔写着：
花园里的女士：
您让我吃饱喝足了以后，我在货栈找到了一份工作。是您帮助了我，使我自我感觉有了自尊，也使我在别人眼里有了自尊。现在，让我来帮助您。
纸里夹着三张一美元的纸币。
我盯着手里的钱，仿佛又看到了那个头发蓬乱，衬衫上满是灰尘的小伙子。我的双唇开始颤抖，可现在不是哭的时候。“爱丽丝，亲爱的，请你快点儿。”我一边叫喊着一边冲进屋里，“马上去商店买一双你能发现的最好的鞋，明早你将成为埃克姆店最整洁的女店员！”
“妈妈，醒了吗？生日晚宴就要开始了，您准备好了吗？”
我睁开眼睛，看到自己被自己所爱的人团团围绕着。温柔的爱丽丝现在已是满头白发，身体发福，年轻的丽贝卡活泼又可爱，还有其他的亲人，有老也有少。
“您在给自己讲故事，是不是，妈妈？”爱丽丝戏谑道，“那一定是个快乐的故事，妈妈，您的脸上还带着笑呢。”
“是一个美丽的故事。”
我挣扎着站起来，啪的一声，丽贝卡的新鞋随之轻轻地从膝头滑落到地毯上。