When I was seventeen, my life changed forever.
I know that there are people who wonder abou t me when I say this. They look at me strangely as if trying to fathom1 what could have happened back then, though I seldom bother to explain. Because I’ve lived here for most of my life, I don’t feel that I have to unless it’s on my terms, and that would take more time than most people are willing to give me. My story can’t be summed up in two or three sentences; it can’t be packaged into something neat and simple that people would immediately understand. Despite the passage of forty years, the people still living here who knew me that year accept my lack of explanation without question. My story in some ways is their story because it was something that all of us lived through.
It was I, however, who was closest to it. I’m fifty-seven years old, but even now I can remember everything from that year, down to the smallest details. I relive that year often in my mind, bringing it back to life, and I realize that when I do, I always feel a strange combination of sadness and joy. There are moments when I wish I could roll back the clock and take all the sadness away, but I have the feeling that if I did, the joy would be gone as well. So I take the memories as they come, accepting them all, letting them guide me whenever I can. This happens more often than I let on.
It is April 12, in the last year before the millennium2, and as I leave my house, I glance around. The sky is overcast3 and gray, but as I move down the street, I notice that the dogwoods and azaleas are blooming. I zip my jacket just a little. The temperature is cool, though I know it’s only a matter of weeks before it will settle in to something comfortable and the gray skies give way to the kind of days that make North Carolina one of the most beautiful places in the world. With a sigh, I feel it all coming back to me. I close my eyes and the years begin to move in reverse4, slowly ticking backward, like the hands of a clock rotating5 in the wrong direction. As if through someone else’s eyes, I watch myself grow younger; I see my hair changing from gray to brown, I feel the wrinkles6 around my eyes begin to smooth, my arms and legs grow sinewy7. Lessons I’ve learned with age grow dimmer, and my innocence8 returns as that eventful year approaches. Then, like me, the world begins to change: roads narrow and some become gravel9, suburban10 sprawl11 has been replaced with farmland, downtown streets teem12 with people, looking in windows as they pass Sweeney’s bakery and Palka’s meat shop. Men wear hats, women wear dresses. At the courthouse up the street, the bell tower rings. . . .
I open my eyes and pause. I am standing13 outside the Baptist church, and when I stare at the gable, I know exactly who I am. My name is Landon Carter, and I’m seventeen years old.
This is my story; I promise to leave nothing out.
First you will smile, and then you will cry-don’t say you haven’t been warned.
1 fathom | |
v.领悟,彻底了解 | |
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2 millennium | |
n.一千年,千禧年;太平盛世 | |
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3 overcast | |
adj.阴天的,阴暗的,愁闷的;v.遮盖,(使)变暗,包边缝;n.覆盖,阴天 | |
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4 reverse | |
v.推翻,颠倒,反向;n.反面,逆境;adj.反向的 | |
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5 rotating | |
ing. 转动 | |
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6 wrinkles | |
n.(尤指皮肤上的)皱纹( wrinkle的名词复数 );皱褶;有用的建议;妙计v.使起皱纹( wrinkle的第三人称单数 );(尤指皮肤)起皱纹 | |
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7 sinewy | |
adj.多腱的,强壮有力的 | |
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8 innocence | |
n.无罪;天真;无害 | |
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9 gravel | |
n.砂跞;砂砾层;结石 | |
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10 suburban | |
adj.城郊的,在郊区的 | |
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11 sprawl | |
vi.躺卧,扩张,蔓延;vt.使蔓延;n.躺卧,蔓延 | |
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12 teem | |
vi.(with)充满,多产 | |
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13 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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