English Original
"Rats!" I groaned. "Is he coming along?"
I stared disgustedly at my new stepbrother, Benny, sitting in the back seat of Dad's car. Benny is eight, short and thin with beady eyes and big ears. Now that Mom and Dad are divorced, I only see Dad every other weekend, and Benny is always horning in. He ruins everything.
The time we went hiking, he got a blister. The zoo made him sneeze. At the baseball game he got a peanut up his nose. If Dad had to remarry, I don't see why he picked Benny's mother. I mean, she's OK. It's just too bad that Benny was included in the deal.
Today Dad and I were going deep-sea fishing for the first time. Now it was spoiled.
"Joe," Dad said in his patient voice, "Benny's your brother—"
"Some brother!"
"We'll have a good time," Dad promised. "Better bring a jacket."
"What for?" I glanced at the steel-colored Florida sky. "It's hot today."
The fishing boat was a scabby old tub, but when you're only paying 15 dollars a person for three hours of fishing, you don't get the Queen Elizabeth II. There were several people on board. The captain's mate gave each of us a rod and reel and a bucket of bait before we cast off.
"We're making up a jackpot for whoever catches the biggest fish," the mate said. "If you guys want in on it, it will cost you a buck a piece."
Dad gave him three dollars. I figured paying for Benny was wasted money. He probably wouldn't even bait his hook.
I was right. The kid stared suspiciously into the bucket and made a face.
"This stuff stinks! What is it?"
"Dead fish," I told him.
"Do I have to touch it?"
"If you want to bait your hook, you do."
"Here, Benny," Dad said, "take my rod. The hook's baited and in the water. I'll use yours."
"OK!" said Benny. He gripped the handle of the rod as if his life depended on it.
A breeze had sprung up, and the waves were choppy. Some clouds slid over the sun. Nobody caught anything.
Then Benny said, "Something's jerking my line. What should I do?"
"Jerk back!" I told him. I reached for his rod. "I'll get it for you!"
"Let him do it, Joe," Dad said. "Pull, Benny, and hang on tight!"
Wouldn't you know it? Benny caught the first fish—a little snapper—and he acted as if it were a prize marlin.
Meanwhile the sky had grown dark, and the breeze had turned into a stiff wind. The waves rose higher. Drops of rain slapped our faces, the temperature dropped, and thunder rumbled in the distance. The boat rocked like a runaway cradle.
Dad's face turned green.
"I think I'll go below," he said as he handed me his rod. "Look after Benny."
He staggered across the deck and bent over the rail.
I had expected Benny to get seasick, but not Dad. Well, the kid would probably be next.
The waves were really high now. One second the boat seemed to be standing on a hilltop, and the next it would plunge into a valley. I clung to the rail and watched the waves rise and fall.
My stomach suddenly heaved, and a bitter taste rose into my throat. I leaned over the rail and lost my lunch. I'd never been so sick in all my life—and I was freezing! Goosebumps stood out on my arms. Why hadn't I worn a jacket? Why had I even come? Who needed to go deep-sea fishing anyway? I suddenly realized I hated fish—especially the dead ones in the bait buckets. The stink of them filled my nose, my head—my stomach! Breakfast followed lunch.
"Maybe you'd better go inside the cabin, Joe," said Benny. "I'll help you."
"I don't need any help!"
But I did. I was so weak my legs trembled. I could never have crossed that squirming deck if Benny hadn't supported me. The kid was stronger than he looked. He helped me down the steps and steered me to the bench where Dad was sitting with his head drooping on his chest.
Dad briefly stared at us with bleary eyes before closing them again. I knew just how he felt.
It was warmer in the cabin, but I kept shivering while I tried to keep my stomach from crawling into my mouth.
Benny took off his windbreaker and draped it over my shoulders. "You'd better lie down on the bench and put your head on my lap," he said.
I lay there for the rest of that miserable voyage. When I finally tottered off the boat, I said I'd never step off solid ground again. Dad said he felt the same way.
I thanked Benny for his jacket—and for his skinny thighs, which had made a pillow for my woozy head.
"No problem!" Benny grinned. "What are brothers for?"
"To make money!" I pointed at the bundle of dollar bills he was carrying. Because of the storm, nobody else had caught a fish, so Benny had won the jackpot.
He deserved it.
中文翻译
“真倒霉！”我抱怨道。“他也要来吗？”
我厌恶地盯着我的新继弟班尼，他正坐在爸爸车的后座上。班尼八岁，又矮又瘦，长着一双警惕的小眼睛和一对大耳朵。自从爸妈离婚后，我只能每隔一周的周末见爸爸一次，而班尼总是要插一脚进来。他毁了一切。
我们那次去徒步，他脚上起了水疱。动物园让他打喷嚏。看棒球赛时，他把一颗花生塞进了鼻孔。如果爸爸非要再婚，我不明白他为什么选了班尼的妈妈。我的意思是，她人不错。只是很遗憾，这笔“交易”里包含了班尼。
今天，我和爸爸本来要第一次去深海钓鱼。现在全毁了。
“乔，”爸爸用他耐心的声音说，“班尼是你弟弟——”
“好一个弟弟！”
“我们会玩得很开心的，”爸爸保证道。“最好带件夹克。”
“为什么？”我瞥了一眼佛罗里达州铁灰色的天空。“今天很热。”
钓鱼船是艘脏兮兮的旧船，但当你只为三小时的钓鱼每人支付15美元时，就别指望能坐上伊丽莎白女王二号了。船上有好几个人。开船前，船长的助手给了我们每人一根钓竿、一个卷线器和一桶鱼饵。
“我们设了个头奖，给钓到最大鱼的人，”助手说。“如果你们想参加，每人出一美元。”
爸爸给了他三美元。我觉得为班尼付钱纯属浪费。他可能连鱼饵都不会挂。
我说对了。这孩子怀疑地盯着桶里，做了个鬼脸。
“这东西真臭！是什么？”
“死鱼，”我告诉他。
“我必须碰它吗？”
“如果你想给你的鱼钩上饵，就必须。”
“来，班尼，”爸爸说，“拿我的钓竿。鱼钩已经上好饵放到水里了。我用你的。”
“好的！”班尼说。他紧紧抓住钓竿手柄，仿佛他的生命就靠它了。
一阵微风吹起，海浪变得汹涌。几片云遮住了太阳。没人钓到任何东西。
然后班尼说：“有什么东西在拽我的线。我该怎么办？”
“拽回去！”我告诉他。我伸手去拿他的钓竿。“我帮你弄！”
“让他自己来，乔，”爸爸说。“拉，班尼，抓紧了！”
你猜怎么着？班尼钓到了第一条鱼——一条小鲷鱼——而他表现得好像那是条获奖的枪鱼。
与此同时，天空变得漆黑，微风变成了强风。海浪越来越高。雨点拍打着我们的脸，温度下降，远处雷声隆隆。船像一匹脱缰的摇篮一样摇晃。
爸爸的脸色变得铁青。
“我想我要去下面了，”他把钓竿递给我时说。“照顾好班尼。”
他摇摇晃晃地走过甲板，弯腰靠在栏杆上。
我本以为班尼会晕船，但没想到爸爸会。好吧，这孩子可能下一个就是。
海浪现在真的很高了。前一秒船好像站在山顶上，下一秒就冲进了山谷。我紧紧抓住栏杆，看着海浪起伏。
我的胃突然翻腾起来，一股苦味涌上喉咙。我俯身在栏杆上，把午餐全吐了。我这辈子从没这么难受过——而且我冻得要命！我胳膊上起了鸡皮疙瘩。我为什么没穿夹克？我为什么要来？到底谁需要去深海钓鱼？我突然意识到我讨厌鱼——尤其是饵桶里的死鱼。它们的臭味充满了我的鼻子、我的头——我的胃！早餐也跟着午餐一起吐了出来。
“也许你最好进船舱里去，乔，”班尼说。“我来帮你。”
“我不需要任何帮助！”
但我需要。我虚弱得双腿发抖。如果不是班尼扶着我，我永远不可能走过那颠簸摇晃的甲板。这孩子比他看起来要强壮。他扶我走下台阶，把我领到长凳边，爸爸正坐在那里，头垂在胸前。
爸爸用模糊的眼睛短暂地看了我们一眼，然后又闭上了。我完全理解他的感受。
船舱里暖和些，但我还是不停地发抖，同时努力不让我的胃从嘴里爬出来。
班尼脱下他的防风夹克，披在我肩上。“你最好躺在长凳上，把头枕在我腿上，”他说。
在那段痛苦的航程剩下的时间里，我就那样躺着。当我终于踉踉跄跄地走下船时，我说我再也不会离开坚实的地面了。爸爸说他也有同感。
我感谢班尼的夹克——也感谢他瘦瘦的大腿，为我虚弱的头充当了枕头。
“没问题！”班尼咧嘴一笑。“兄弟是干什么用的？”
“用来赚钱的！”我指着他拿着的那捆美元钞票。因为暴风雨，其他人都没钓到鱼，所以班尼赢得了头奖。
他应得的。