He probably sees my surprise. “A wild guess,” he says, a smile of embarrassment on his face, but only for a second. “Anything you can tell me about your family?” he asks casually.
I don’t think that question is on the list, and I’m reluctant to talk about my family with anyone. “I live with my mother,” I say stupidly.
“Any siblings?”
“No.”
“What about your father?” He leans forward, looking intensely curious.
“He’s dead,” I say simply. It would sound absurd if I tell him my secret suspicion that my father is alive.
“How. . . never mind.” It seems he wants to poke further but apparently checks himself. He looks pensive, his eyes never leaving my face. “I’m sorry,” he adds.
I don’t know what to say, and I don’t like the pity in his voice. His curiosity about my family is puzzling, as if he’s more interested in finding out about them than testing my English. I wait for him to change the subject.
看到我吃驚的樣子，他說，”我亂猜的。” 臉上有一點窘迫的笑容，但僅持續了一秒鍾。”你可以談一談家裏的情況嗎，”他顯得挺隨便的問。
這個問題肯定不在考試題裏，況且我非常不願意跟任何人談我的家庭。
“家裏就我和我媽媽，” 我說。
“沒有兄弟姊妹嗎？”
“沒有。”
“你的父親呢?”
“他死了.”
我當然不能告訴他我爸爸還活著的理論，那就太荒唐了。
“他怎麽。。。？”他開口問，但是又停住了。”沒關係。對不起，” 他輕輕地說，他的眼睛好像若有所思的樣子。
我不知道再說什麽，我不喜歡他聲音裏的憐憫，也被他對我家庭的好奇所疑惑。他是在考我的英文呢，還是更想知道我家裏的情況？我等他換一個話題。
He turns the exam list facedown. “Forget about the dumb questions. Let’s just chat,” he says. “Tell me a thing or two that happened recently in the world, something interesting.” He leans back in his seat.
The wheels in my brain spin but churn out nothing satisfactory. Then I remember the recent news I read in the Colorful Culture magazine.
“My favorite Taiwanese author—her pen name was Thirty Cents—hung herself in her study after promising her elderly parents that she wouldn’t commit suicide. I am deeply saddened by her death.”
“I am so sorry to hear that,” he says, looking honest. “So you like reading?”
“Yes,” I say, delighted we have arrived at this subject. “I started reading when I was four-years old.”
“What have you read?”
It could take me a whole hour to list all the books that I’ve read. Unfortunately, I have trouble translating them into English. “Dreams in the Red Mansion, 108 Warriors, The Guerrillas on the Railroad, which is a revolutionary war novel, and—”
He interrupts me. “Have you read Western literature?”
Jane Eyre is the only thing Western I have read, and the young governess the first Western heroine, but instinctively I want to keep her a secret from the American.
“No. Western literature is hard to come by.”
他把考試題反過來放到桌子上。 “這些考試題太無聊了。 咱們說些有趣的，“ 他說，往後靠在椅背上。 ”告訴我一兩件最近世界上發生的新鮮事兒。“
我腦子裏的鼓輪在轉，但是沒什麽結果。然後我想起了最近在"多彩文化"雜誌上看到的一個消息。
“我最喜歡的一個台灣作家，筆名叫三毛，最近在她的書房裏上吊了。盡管他她答應過他她的父母不去自殺，”我說，“我為她的離世非常傷心。”
“為你難過，” 他說。稍後又說，“你喜歡讀書啊。”
“是啊，”我說，很高興談到了讀書這個話題。”我從四歲就開始讀了。”
“你都讀過什麽書？” 他問。
我把我所有讀過的書的名字告訴他起碼要花一個小時。何況我不會把它們都翻譯成英語。紅樓夢，水滸傳，將鐵道遊擊隊，我告訴了他這幾個書名。
“你讀過西方文學嗎？” 他問。
簡愛是我唯一讀的西方文學小說，這個年僅十八歲的女家庭教師也
我第一個認識的西方女主角。但是這是我的秘密，不想告訴這個籃球Luke。
我沒讀過什麽西方文學，” 我說，“那些書不容易得到。”
“I see.” He taps his fingers on the desk. “Do you watch the news or read the newspapers at all?”
I’m caught by surprise with the abrupt shift of topic. And the way he has phrased his question sounds as if my reading novels is suddenly a demerit.
“No. I don’t really watch the news or read the newspapers,” I reply in a small voice, not ready to admit that I am too deeply immersed in fiction.
“How do you keep up with the real world, then?” He looks serious.
I am going to flunk the test. My bright future is dimming. Tears well up in my eyes. I stand still and remain mute before the American. My only brain activity at the moment involves comparing him to the overbearing Mr. Rochester. Jane Eyre’s hero is not the archetype of good-looking men; he is described, with Jane Eyre’s fond tone, as almost ugly. My fake American teacher, Luke, might look just like him, with his massive head and disproportionately long limbs.
And, his mothball-pepper smell offends my nose.
“Do you ever wish to go to America?” he asks, running his eyes over me.
The question seems sudden, unconnected with anything he’s asked so far. I’m fascinated by America, Hollywood, for one thing, but the thought of going to America never crossed my mind. Traversing the ocean to the other side of the hemisphere is like a fairy tale. But saying I’ve never fancied about visiting America may not sound courteous to an American. I’m stuck, my face turning hot.
“If you don’t wish to answer that question. . . ” he pauses in mid-sentence, but looks at me with his head tilted to the side, clearly waiting for me to answer anyway.
He must know that it’s irrelevant whether I wish to go to America or not; because I can’t.
“是這樣嗎？”他用手指敲了敲桌子。“你看新聞或者讀報嗎？“
我沒防備他突然轉話題。“我不怎麽看報紙和新聞，” 我低聲的說，很不情願的承認了我隻深深的埋在小說虛幻的世界裏。
“那你怎麽跟得上現實生活呢？” 他看上去有點嚴肅。
我沒有回答，在想，也許這次考試我不會及格了，我的光明前途在暗淡下去。眼淚在我眼睛裏轉圈兒。我一動不動像啞巴一樣站在這個美國人麵前。現在我腦子裏的唯一活動是把他和簡愛裏的男主人公，傲慢的羅切斯特先生比較。簡愛以掩飾不住的愛撫的語調說羅切斯特先生並不是標準的美男子。此刻，我想我的美國老師Luke可能長得就像他,。大腦袋和過分悠長的四肢。
他身上那股衛生球和四川辣椒的氣味還在侵襲我的鼻孔。
“你想不想到美國去，” 他突然問，上下打量著我。
這個問題太突然了。我對美國很著迷，比方說好萊塢。但我從來沒有去美國的想法。漂洋過海到地球的另一個半球聽起來像一個童話。如果對一個美國人說我從來沒想過要去美國，可能會顯得不客氣。我卡殼了，我的臉開始發燒。
“如果你不想回答這個問題。 。 。 ” 他沒說完就停住了， 但卻歪著頭看我，好像在等我回答。
他難道不明白我想不想去美國是個無意義的問題嗎？反正我去不了。
I feel indignant, which emboldens me. Perhaps I should—before the “super-power imperialist” American attacks me again—counterattack. Desperate, I grab a line from Jane Eyre that I like.
“Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain and little, I am soulless and heartless?” I recite Jane Eyre’s words fluently, and find myself moved by them.
“You are poor. . . and plain, Huh? What the heck. . .?”
Mr. Rochester would have said, “So, Jane?” to which Jane Eyre would say, “Yes so. And yet not so!”
Luke squirms in his chair, wordless. I look him in the eye, gloating at his stupefied expression.
I glance at Professor Liang’s desk on the other side of the room. His students are being let go quickly. Why should I be the only one detained like this? Maybe this young American enjoys toying with students to release his vengeance on the professors who most cruelly toyed with him?
“I am a free human being with an independent will, which I now exert to leave you,” I announce, with as much passion as Jane Eyre.
Luke stays perfectly still, with the same dumbfounded look on his face. Suddenly, he starts to laugh.
“Okay, Okay. You can leave of course. Don’t’ be so serious,” he says between laughs. “See you around, Chang—,” he tries to pronounce my name but fails miserably. “I mean Maiden-in-the-Moon.”
我很生氣，怒氣給我壯了膽。也許我應該再在美帝在再進攻以前反攻。絕望時，我隨便從簡愛裏麵抓了一句台詞：“你以為我窮，沒有地位，長得又醜又小,我就沒有心沒有靈魂嗎？”我背簡愛的這句話很流利，把我自己也感動了。
“什麽？ 你很窮？很醜？你在說什麽。見鬼。。。。”籃球Luke非常疑惑不解。
羅切斯特先生說的是，“是這樣嗎，簡愛？”
簡愛的回答是，“就是這樣。同時，又不是這樣!”
Luke 的舌頭顯然被綁住了，在椅子裏很不舒服的動著。我第一次直視他的眼睛，得意的看著他傻乎乎的樣子。我看了一下教室對麵那些學生，很快的，一個一個考完了。為什麽我還在這裏被審問？這個美國人難道以為隻有捉弄學生才使他像一個老師嗎？
我又想起了簡愛裏的一句話：“我是一個自由的人，我的自由意誌讓我馬上毫不猶豫地離開你。”
籃球Luke 一動也不動，臉上還是那個癡呆的樣子。忽然，他哈哈大笑了起來。“OK，OK，你當然可一走了。 別那麽嚴肅啊。”他笑著說，“下次見， 嫦—”他沒有把我的名字說完，慘兮兮的，最後隻好該說，“奧，月亮。”大概“女” 字 他更發不出來。
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