30篇文章贯通考研词汇原文Word文件下载.docx
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Yesterday,Iheardacarenginegettingcloser,andclimbeduptohideinthebeamsofthepatchedroof.Butthemenjustlookedinquicklythroughtheworn-outwindowsandbrokendoorsbeforetheyleft.Iclungtothedustywoodenbeam,feelingitwouldbendundermyweight,andtriedtomakenonoise.Myarmsandlegsgrewnumb,andthenbegantotremble.Ilongedtomove,butIwaiteduntilIheardthepolicemendriveoff.
Iknowthattheywillreturn.Whenwebeganthefinalpartofourjourney,wewerewarnedthatthepolicepatrolledthelandaroundhereregularly.Theyarealwayssearchingforus,orotherslikeus;
thecoastofMoroccoandthepresidioofCeutaareonlytenmilesawayacrosstheStraits.
ThatishowIgothere:
squeezedinwithfifteenothermeninashallowboatmeantforeight,withthecoldwavesreachingoverthesidesandthenightdeepandblackasatomb.Ihadneverbeenmorescared.Iprayedallthewayacross,andthoughtaboutmyfamily.Itoldmyself,overandover,thatIwasdoingitforthem.Thattriptookalmostallofmymoney.AllofthemoneyIhadsavedinEcuador.Theboatmenleftusonabeachinthemiddleofthenight.Welostsightofthembutwecouldstillheartheirsmallengineacrossthewaves.Sixofusstartedwalkinginlandbuttheotherswaitedforthecontacts,thefriendsoftheboatmen,astheyhadbeentold.
Wewerelucky:
wemetPaulo.Wefoundthetownandwaiteduntilthefirstbaropened;
Iwentinalonewhiletheothershidintheorchardnearby.WhenIaskedforacupofcoffee,theyoungbarmanlookedatmeandnodded.Hemadethecoffee,andthendisappearedintothebackroom.Coldandwithoutstrength,Iwrappedmyhandsaroundthewarmcup,notcaringwhetherthebarmanhadcalledthepolice,notcaringaboutthenextmoment,justaboutthepresent.
ButthemanhadcalledPaulo,whocameandhelpedus.Paulowasalwayssmiling,alwayshappy.HewasfromSeville,abusycityofmanypeople,andheknewmanypeople.Paulofoundworkforus.Imadegoodmoneyonthefarms.Ipickedcabbages,beans,cucumbersandpeas.Ipickedgreatroundyellowsquashesthatsmelledofrichperfumewhenyoubrokethem.Thefarmershiredusbytheday,andwerecontent.Thelocalpeoplewouldneverworkforthewageswewerepaid.Butthereweremanyfarms,andmanycropstobepicked.Wewerewelcomed.
Isharedasmallcleanhouseinthetownwithsevenotherworkers.WehadjourneyedfromEcuador,Colombia,Venezuela,evenArgentina.Paulofoundthehouseforus—heknewthelandlordandarrangedagoodprice.Welivedwell,withenoughfoodandsometimeswine.IearnedmoreinaweekthanIcouldinthreemonthsbackhomeiftherehadbeenworktodothere.Isentmostofthemoneythatwaslefttomywifeandparents,andwrotemanyletterstothem.Thenthegovernmentchangedtherulessothatweneededworkpermits.
Iqueuedwithhundredsofotherworkers,waitingfortheapplicationforms.Wesatonthestonebenchesbeneaththetreesandreadtheforms.Someoftheotherworkerswerefromsmallvillagesandtowns,andcannotreadaswellasIcan,soIexplainedtothemthatthegovernmentwantedourbirthcertificates,drivinglicenses,passportsandmanyotherdocuments.Manyoftheworkershadperhapsoneortwoofthesedocuments,butmosthadnone.Ihelpedtheotherscompletetheformsandwegavethemtotheclerk.Helookedatourdocuments,stampedtheformsmanytimesandtoldusthattheywouldbesenttoMadrid,andourpermitswouldbereturnedintwoorthreemonthsiftheformswereapproved.
Wehadtowait.EvenPauloandhisfriendscouldnothelpus.
Thefirstmonthwasnottoobadasmostofthefarmerscontinuedtouseus;
theircropswererich,waitingtobepicked.ThensomemenfromMadridvisitedallofthefarms,andmaybehalfofthefarmersstoppedusingus.Thefarmerstoldusthattheyweresorry,andweunderstoodthem.
Sothesecondmonthwasworse:
onlyafewofthefarmerswoulduseus,andthosethatdidpayverypoorwages.Wesharedwhatwehad,andateonceaday:
rice,porridge,bread,cheapfoodthatwouldfillourstomachs.Webegantostareateachother,andwonderwhichofuswouldfindwork.Therewerefightsinthemorning,betweendifferentgroupsofworkers,whenthefarms’supervisorscametochoosewhowouldworkthatday.Butstillwehadsomehope.
Welostthehouseinthethirdmonth,aswehadnomoneyforrent.Wewereabletogetsomefoodfromthecharitykitchensaroundthetown,andthechurch,butwefoundalwaysalongqueueandverylittlefood.Wetookourbagsandblanketsandsleptinthefields.Thentheweatherbecamecoldandwesleptwherewecould,huddletogether,inoldforgottenbuildingsandalleys.SometimesIdreamedofmyfamily,andwhenIawoke,Iwishedthedreamcouldcontinue.
Thepeopleofthetownstaredatusfromthesidesoftheireyesastheypassedus.Theyclenchedtheirhandsandmuttered,andsomeofthemspatonthepavement.Afewofuswereattackedandbeateninthedark,anddrivenfromtheparksandstreets.Allofthetime,thepolicetoldustomoveon,moveon.
Itistheendofthethirdmonthwhenithappened.
Thefarmershiredcoachesandsentthemintothetown.Fromfouro’clockinthemorningwewaitedinagitatingsilence,handspusheddeepintopockets,ourhatspulleddowntightagainstthecoldandthewatchingpolicemen.
Bythetimethecoachesarrived,therewerehundredsofworkerswaitinginthedarkness.Wepressedforwardasthedoorsopened.Thesupervisorsstoodonthebottomstepsofthecoachesandasked,“Whohasthepermit?
”
Themenwithpermitsheldthemupandwereallowedontothecoaches.
SomeoftheworkerswerefromthecountriesinEuropeanddidnotneedpermits,sotheywereallowedonwhentheyshowedtheirpassports.IwentfromcoachtocoachuntilIsawagroupofChileans,whoIknewhavenopermits,climbingaboardawaitingcoach.Theleaderoftheirgroupspokefirstwiththesupervisorandshookhishand,andthentheyweretakenon.Istoodbeforethesupervisor.
“Youhavethepermit?
”heaskedme.Hewasbroad,stoutandfilledthedoorwayofthecoach.Hisfatneckspiltfromtheupturnedcollarofhisleatherjacket.Hishairwasshavenclosetohishead.IexplainedtohimthatmyapplicationwasrejectedbutIwouldtryagain.
“Comebackwhenyouhaveapermit,”hetoldme.Hefrownedasheinhaledasmokeandlookeddowntheavenuetowherethepolicemenwatchingthecoaches.IexplainedtohimthatIwasahardworker,thatIhadeatenonlyonceinthreedays,thatIwaseagertoworkandsendmoneytomyfamily.
Helookedatthepolicemen,whohadstartedwalkingalongthepavementbesidethecoaches,andglaredatmeandsaid,“GotoMadridandtellthem.”
TheChileanswerelaughingandpointingatmethroughthecoachwindows.
Thesupervisortossedhishalf-finishedcigaretteintothegutterbymyfoot.AtthemomentIstabbedhiminthestomach.Hebentdownwithasmallcry.
ThepolicemenlookedatusandIbegantorunawayfromthecoaches,intothedarksidestreets.Iheardloudrunningstepsclosebehindme,andtheroarofcarengines.
Islidintotheshadowsofashop’sbackdoor,behindtwotallmetalcontainersthatstankofrottenmeatandspoiledfoodstuff.Igasped,andeachbreathburnt.Myhearthammeredagainstmychest.
Iwaitedforalongtimeuntilthesoundsofthecarsandpeoplefaded.Iwalkedslowlytotheendofthealley,andlookedout,butthestreetswereempty.
Ihadrunalmosttotheriver;
Icouldhearitrushinginthedarknessbeneathme.
Myrighthandfeltcold.Ilookeddownintheyellowlightofastreetlamp,andsawmyhandstillclenchedintoafist.Itlookedlikethehandofanotherperson,notpartofme.Ashortblade,nolongerthanmythumb,stuckoutfromthefist.Theblade,myfist,andmysleevewereallstaineddarkred.
PaulogavemetheknifewhenIpickedcucumbersonthefarms.Theshortbladewasverysharp,madeforcuttingtheplants’stalks.
Iscrambleddowntothebanksoftheriverandthrewtheknifeintotheriverwater.Ihearditsplashedfaraway.Therivertouchedmyfeet.Iboweddownandwashedmysleeveandhands,althoughthewaterwassocold,likeice,thatmyhandbecamenumb.ThenIwalkedbackuptothestreet.
Ifoundsomeoftheotherworkershidinginthedesertedwarehousewehadfound.OneofthemwenttofindPaulo,whocameandtoldmeabouttheoldfarmbuildingsneartothecoastroad.IwaiteduntildarknessbeforeIfollowedtheroadoutofthetown,throwingmyselfintotheditchifIheardacarapproaching.
TheweatherhasbeenclearandIhaveseenthecoastofMoroccoeveryday.Acrossthebluesea,thelandisastripofdarkbrownandgray,andlookscloseenoughformetotouch.MaybeIcouldfindanoldtractortyretubearoundthefarmandfloatacrosstheStraits?
OrmaybeIcouldwalkalongtheshoreandstealaboat?
Idonotwanttobecomeathief.Iamanhonestmanwhowantsonlytoworkandsupporthisfamily.ButwhatcanIdo?
IwillwaithereforPauloandlistentohim.Hewilltellmewhattodoforthebest.Iknowthathewillhelpme.
UNIT2
TimelessPhotographs
Ilovetolookatoldphotographsinthealbum.Myfatherhadabigboxofpicturesinthecabinetandsomeofthepicturesgowaybacktothe1890’s.Thewomendressedwithsuchdignityandhadstylebackthen.Mydadwouldlingeraroundhispreciousboxofphotographsandtellmestoriesabout