Ingo has driven the night bus for six years. He knows most of his regular passengers by their habits. The loudest is a man who sings along to his headphones. The quietest is a teenage girl who gets on at half past eleven.
英戈开夜班公交车已经六年了。他从习惯上就认得大多数常客。最吵的是一个戴着耳机跟着唱的男人。最安静的是一个十一点半上车的少女。
She always sits under the third light, the weak one that flickers. In her lap is a stack of flashcards. Ingo can see her in the mirror above his seat. She wears a restaurant apron under her jacket, and she looks tired. The cards are covered in chemistry: formulas, tiny drawings of molecules, long words he can't pronounce.
她总是坐在第三盏灯下面，那盏灯光线微弱，还一闪一闪的。她腿上放着一叠记忆卡片。英戈能从座位上方的镜子里看到她。她外套里面系着餐馆的围裙，看上去很疲惫。卡片上写满了化学：公式、小小的分子图，还有他念不出来的长单词。
He has never spoken to her. A driver who chats with a teenager late at night might seem strange. So he only nods when she steps on, and she nods back.
他从没跟她说过话。一个司机深夜里跟一个少女闲聊，可能会显得奇怪。所以她上车时他只是点点头，她也点头回应。
Tonight her stack of cards is thicker than usual. She taps each one against her knee and sometimes shakes her head at herself. Ingo has a daughter of his own, and he thinks, She has a test coming. After the fourth stop, the girl's hand slows down. After the sixth, the cards slide onto the seat, and her head rests against the window.
今晚她的那叠卡片比平时更厚。她把每一张都在膝盖上敲一敲，有时还对自己摇摇头。英戈自己也有个女儿，他心想，她快要考试了。过了第四站，女孩翻卡片的手慢了下来。过了第六站，卡片滑落到座位上，她的头靠在了车窗上。
Ingo looks from the road to the mirror and back again. If he stops the bus to wake her, he will scare her. If he lets her sleep, she will ride past her stop and walk back in the cold. He decides to wait for the right moment.
英戈的视线在路面和镜子之间来回移动。如果停车叫醒她，会吓到她。如果让她睡，她会坐过站，然后顶着寒风走回来。他决定等一个合适的时机。
At the corner by the bakery, one stop before hers, he brakes gently. "Excuse me," he says in his calmest voice. "Your stop is next."
在面包店旁边的路口，也就是她那站的前一站，他轻轻地刹了车。“打扰一下，”他用最平静的声音说，“下一站就是你的站了。”
She jumps, gathers her cards, and stares at him. "Thank you," she whispers. "I have an exam at eight. I should have gone to bed hours ago."
她猛地一惊，收拾起卡片，盯着他看。“谢谢您，”她低声说，“我八点有场考试。我几个小时前就该睡觉了。”
"Then go to bed now," Ingo says. "And good luck."
“那现在就去睡吧，”英戈说，“祝你好运。”
She hurries off the bus and up the street. Ingo watches her go. Then he reaches for the small dial that controls the lights over the seats. He usually keeps it low so that tired people can rest. He turns it up.
她匆匆下了车，沿着街道走去。英戈目送着她。然后他伸手去够那个控制座位上方灯光的小旋钮。他平时总把它调得很暗，好让疲惫的乘客能休息。他把它调亮了。
The next night, the girl climbs on at half past eleven and stops beside the third seat. The light above it is bright and steady. She looks at it, then at Ingo's mirror, and takes out her flashcards. Ingo nods and starts the engine.
第二天夜里，女孩在十一点半上了车，在第三个座位旁边停了下来。那盏灯明亮而稳定。她看了看它，又看了看英戈的镜子，拿出了她的卡片。英戈点点头，发动了引擎。
