English Original
“OK, you can do this,” I said, trying to sound cheerful.
My mom sat straddling her brand-new bike, her new helmet falling forward over her eyes. She gripped the handlebars the way I had seen her grip the steering wheel in heavy traffic, and she looked kind of pale.
“I don’t know, Jake. There are too many people around. I don’t think I want to. . . .”
I didn’t understand why my mom seemed so scared. Riding a bike was no big deal. I had learned to ride four years ago, when I was only seven. Besides, I’d never known my mom to be afraid of anything before. The night I heard noises in the attic and thought that there were monsters up there, Mom just grabbed a flashlight and marched right in. She scared those squirrels half to death. And the day I hit my head falling out of a tree and was covered in blood, Mom just sat me down, washed me off, and told me not to climb so high. So what was all this about?
“Mom,” I said as patiently as I could, “you have to learn to ride a bike if you want to ride with me in the Bike-a-Thon, and it’s only two weeks away.”
“OK,” she said finally. “OK, I can do this—I think.”
“Of course you can,” I replied, and I reached up to adjust the chin strap on her helmet. “That’s better. Now you can see where you’re going.”
“I think I liked it better when I couldn’t.” She stared down the little hill I had decided to start her on.
“It’s not that steep, Mom. It’s easier to get your balance if you start off coasting. Just remember to keep your feet on the pedals, and start pedaling as soon as you get to the bottom of the hill.”
I took a couple of steps away from the bike. My mom took a deep breath and pushed down on the top pedal just the way I’d shown her. Slowly the bicycle rolled forward, picking up speed as it coasted down the hill. The front wheel began to wobble.
“Steer, Mom! Straighten it out!” I yelled. Mom didn’t seem to hear me. She and the bike turned left, went off the sidewalk, and rolled into a little green bush. Then slowly Mom and the bike fell over.
“Mom!” I shouted, running down the hill. “Are you all right?”
Several people came running toward us. I guess they had heard me yelling. My mom hadn’t made a sound.
“Mom! Are you OK?” I asked. I knelt down beside her.
“No.” Her face was hidden under her arm, so her voice was kind of muffled.
“What’s the matter? Is something broken?” I was so scared.
“No,” was her only reply.
“Get up and let me see,” I said.
“No.” Mom didn’t move.
By now there were lots of people standing around me, my mom, and the little broken bush.
A concerned-looking man in a jogging suit stepped forward. “Son, would you like me to call an ambulance?”
“I don’t know,” I answered, and looked at my mom.
“No,” my mom yelled. “I’m fine. Please go away!”
“She’s learning to ride,” I tried to explain to all those people. “She wasn’t going very fast.”
“Come on, lady! You gotta get back up on the horse that threw ya!” some man shouted.
“It was a bike!” I shouted back.
A small gray-haired lady standing close by said softly, “Remember The Little Engine That Could. ’I think I can, I think I can. . . .’”
“They’re not going to go away, are they?” my mom whispered.
“I think they want to see that you’re OK,” I whispered back.
“Oh, all right!” My mom sat up and brushed the grass and leaves and little berries off her sweater. Finally she stood up. Everyone began to clap, and my mom’s face turned bright pink.
“Thank you for your concern, but as you can see, I’m just fine.” Mom took a few steps around to show them that she wasn’t hiding a broken leg or a sprained ankle. Everyone clapped again and then went on their way.
“Enough for today?” I asked hopefully. I didn’t want to go through that again anytime soon.
“No, Jake,” she said in a way that surprised me. “No. I almost had it, and then I let myself get scared. I know I can do it this time!”
Now this sounded more like my mom. I helped her pull the bike out of the bush and push it up the hill.
Mom adjusted her helmet again and got on the bike. She didn’t look quite so pale this time.
“Ready?” I asked. She nodded, and I backed away.
There went Mom down the hill, and just as the bike reached the bottom where the sidewalk became flat and smooth, she started pedaling. I ran down the hill after her. She had pedaled quite a way ahead of me when she looked back over her shoulder. I could see that she was smiling. She let go of one of the handlebars to give me a thumbs-up sign.
“No, no!” I yelled. “Use both hands!”
But it was too late. Mom and the bicycle went off the sidewalk and fell over together in the grass. Again.
“Mom! Mom! Are you hurt?” I ran up to her.
This time she was already on her feet, and she was laughing.
“Did you see me? I did it! I did it! I really did it!”
Then she stopped and looked at me. “I mean,” she said, rumpling my hair, “we did it.”
中文翻译
“好了，你能行的，”我努力让自己的声音听起来很欢快。
妈妈跨坐在她那辆崭新的自行车上，新头盔向前滑落，遮住了她的眼睛。她紧紧抓着车把，那样子就像我在交通拥堵时看到她紧握方向盘一样，而且她看起来脸色有点苍白。
“我不知道，杰克。周围人太多了。我觉得我不想……”
我不明白妈妈为什么看起来这么害怕。骑自行车没什么大不了的。我四年前就学会了，那时我才七岁。而且，我以前从不知道妈妈会害怕任何东西。那天晚上我听到阁楼里有声音，以为那里有怪物，妈妈只是抓起手电筒就径直走了进去，把那些松鼠吓得半死。还有那天我从树上掉下来撞到了头，浑身是血，妈妈只是让我坐下，帮我清洗干净，然后告诉我不要爬那么高。所以这到底是怎么回事？
“妈妈，”我尽可能耐心地说，“如果你想和我一起参加自行车马拉松，你就必须学会骑自行车，而且只剩两周了。”
“好吧，”她终于说道。“好吧，我能行——我想。”
“你当然可以，”我回答，然后伸手帮她调整头盔的颚带。“这样好多了。现在你能看清要去哪儿了。”
“我觉得我看不清的时候更喜欢。”她盯着我决定让她开始练习的那个小山坡。
“没那么陡，妈妈。从滑行开始更容易保持平衡。只要记住把脚放在踏板上，一到坡底就开始蹬。”
我向后退了几步，离开自行车。妈妈深吸一口气，按照我教她的方式踩下顶部的踏板。自行车慢慢向前滚动，滑下山坡时速度越来越快。前轮开始摇晃。
“控制方向，妈妈！把它弄直！”我喊道。妈妈似乎没听见。她和自行车向左转，冲出了人行道，滚进了一小丛绿色的灌木丛。然后，妈妈和自行车慢慢地倒下了。
“妈妈！”我一边喊着一边跑下山坡。“你没事吧？”
几个人向我们跑来。我猜他们听到了我的喊声。妈妈一声没吭。
“妈妈！你还好吗？”我问道，在她身边跪下。
“不好。”她的脸藏在胳膊下，所以声音有点模糊不清。
“怎么了？有东西摔坏了吗？”我吓坏了。
“没有，”这是她唯一的回答。
“起来让我看看，”我说。
“不。”妈妈一动不动。
这时，已经有很多人围着我、妈妈和那丛被压坏的小灌木站着。
一个穿着慢跑服、面带关切的男人走上前来。“孩子，需要我帮你叫救护车吗？”
“我不知道，”我回答，然后看向妈妈。
“不用，”妈妈喊道。“我很好。请走开！”
“她在学骑车，”我试图向所有人解释。“她骑得并不快。”
“加油，女士！你必须从哪儿摔倒就从哪儿爬起来！”某个男人喊道。
“是自行车！”我回喊道。
一位站在附近的灰发小个子女士轻声说：“记住《小火车做到了》。‘我想我能行，我想我能行……’”
“他们不会走的，对吧？”妈妈低声说。
“我想他们是想确认你没事，”我低声回答。
“哦，好吧！”妈妈坐起来，把毛衣上的草、树叶和小浆果拍掉。最后她站了起来。大家开始鼓掌，妈妈的脸变得通红。
“谢谢你们的关心，但如你们所见，我很好。”妈妈走了几步，向他们展示她没有藏着一条断腿或扭伤的脚踝。大家再次鼓掌，然后各自离开了。
“今天够了吗？”我满怀希望地问。我可不想很快再经历一次。
“不，杰克，”她用一种让我惊讶的语气说。“不。我差点就成功了，然后我让自己害怕了。我知道这次我能行！”
现在这听起来更像是我妈妈了。我帮她从灌木丛里拉出自行车，并把它推上山坡。
妈妈再次调整好头盔，上了车。这次她看起来没那么苍白了。
“准备好了吗？”我问。她点点头，我向后退开。
妈妈滑下了山坡，就在自行车到达坡底、人行道变得平坦光滑时，她开始蹬踏板。我跟在她后面跑下山坡。她已经骑到我前面好一段路了，这时她回头看了一眼。我能看到她脸上带着微笑。她松开一只手，向我竖起大拇指。
“不，不！”我喊道。“用两只手！”
但为时已晚。妈妈和自行车再次冲出了人行道，一起摔倒在草地上。
“妈妈！妈妈！你受伤了吗？”我跑到她身边。
这次她已经站了起来，而且在大笑。
“你看到了吗？我做到了！我做到了！我真的做到了！”
然后她停下来看着我。“我是说，”她边说边弄乱我的头发，“我们做到了。”