The garage smelled of oil and sawdust, and every tool hung on a nail labeled in his grandfather's slanting hand: FOR BORROWING, DO NOT SELL. Zhou An had come back to empty the house and leave within a week. On the third morning he found a note under the door. 'Ladder, if you still have it. Roof leaking. — Tan.'
车库里是机油和木屑的气味，每件工具都挂在钉子上，贴着祖父歪斜字迹的标签：可借，勿卖。周安回到海边，是为了清空房子，一周之内就离开。第三天早上，他在门缝下发现一张纸条。“梯子，如果还在的话。屋顶漏水。——谭”
He did. The ladder was aluminum and scratched, taller than the door. He carried it two streets to a woman he had never met, who took it with both hands and said his grandfather had lent it for a whole summer. 'He never asked for it back,' she said. 'I had to remind him.' On the way home he noticed three things in the garage that were not the family's: a rice cooker, a folding chair, a child's bicycle with a red bell.
梯子确实还在。那是铝制的，满是划痕，比门还高。他扛着它走过两条街，交给一个素未谋面的女人。她双手接过，说他祖父曾把它借给她整整一个夏天。“他从不催着还，”她说，“还得我提醒他。”回家的路上，他注意到车库里还有三样不属于他家的东西：一个电饭锅、一把折叠椅、一辆带红铃铛的童车。
That night he listed what was his grandfather's and what was merely in his keeping. The second list was longer. He sat under the bare bulb, hearing the sea, and understood that he had inherited obligations he had not known existed. He had planned to sell everything. Instead he wrote a label in his own hand and hung it by the door: ASK FIRST, THEN TAKE.
那天夜里，他列了两份清单：哪些是祖父的，哪些只是由祖父保管。第二份更长。他坐在光秃秃的灯泡下，听着海声，明白自己继承了一些他此前不知道存在的义务。他原本打算把所有东西都卖掉。结果，他亲手写了一张标签，挂在门边：先问，再拿。
By month's end, eleven people had borrowed something. Zhou An bought a notebook and ruled it into columns: date, name, object, return. His grandfather had never kept a ledger; he had relied on memory and on the fact that everyone could see the garage door from the bus stop. Zhou An, who worked with spreadsheets, found the columns reassuring.
到月底，已经有十一个人来借过东西。周安买了一个笔记本，划出几栏：日期、姓名、物品、归还。祖父从不记账，他靠记性，也靠一个事实：从公交站就能看见车库的门。而做表格工作的周安，觉得这些栏目让人安心。
Mr. Hu, who ran the hardware shop on the corner, did not. 'You are giving away my business,' he said, arms folded in his doorway. 'A drill rents for forty yuan a day. You lend it for nothing.' Zhou An said he was not lending; he was returning things to the street. Hu called that a fine distinction and walked off. Two days later someone returned the drill with a cracked casing and no explanation, and Zhou An saw that a ledger could record a name without recording a reason.
街角五金店的胡老板却不这么想。“你这是在送掉我的生意，”他抱臂站在门口说，“电钻租一天四十块。你白借。”周安说他不是在出借，而是在把东西还给这条街。胡老板说这区别可真精妙，转身走了。两天后，有人还回电钻，外壳裂了，一句解释也没有。周安看出，账本可以记下一个名字，却记不下一个理由。
He wrote the repair cost in the margin and did not charge it. Then he added a column, CONDITION, and a line at the top of every page: IF IT BREAKS, TELL ME. His grandfather had never needed such a rule; the garage had always been open, and the street had always been watching. Trust, Zhou An thought, was cheaper than locks and harder to replace.
他把修理费写在页边，没有向任何人索要。然后他加了一栏“状况”，又在每页顶端写下一行字：坏了就告诉我。祖父从不需要这样的规矩；车库一直开着，这条街一直在看着。信任，他想，比锁便宜，却更难重新配到。
The typhoon arrived on a Tuesday, later than forecast and louder. By noon the sea had climbed the lower street, and by three the power was out. Zhou An opened the garage because it had the block's only hand-cranked radio and a dry floor. People came in wet, carrying what they could. Someone asked for a torch. Someone else wanted a saw for the branch blocking a doorway. He handed out tools and wrote nothing down.
台风在星期二到来，比预报更晚，也更响。到中午，海水已经漫上低处的街道；到下午三点，停电了。周安打开车库，因为整条街只有它有一台手摇收音机，还有干燥的地面。人们湿淋淋地进来，能带什么就带什么。有人要手电。有人要锯子，去处理堵住门口的那根断枝。他把工具递出去，什么也没记。
At dusk Mr. Hu appeared with a generator, two coils of cable and a face like a closed shop. He set it on the pavement, started it, and light jumped across the wet street. 'Don't thank me,' he said. 'The freezer.' He stayed until midnight, and when the water receded he helped carry the borrowed things back to their nails, drying each with a rag.
黄昏时，胡老板出现了，带着一台发电机、两卷电线和一张像关了门的店一样的脸。他把机器放在人行道上，拉响，光一下子跳过了湿漉漉的街面。“别谢我，”他说，“为了冰柜。”他待到半夜。水退之后，他帮忙把借出去的东西一件件搬回钉子下，用抹布逐一擦干。
In the morning the street smelled of salt and broken wood. The ledger had one page ruined by water, and Zhou An did not mind. Mr. Hu came by with a laminated sign, lettered carefully: TOOL LIBRARY — OPEN SATURDAYS. Underneath, smaller: ASK FIRST, THEN TAKE. He had added his shop's name at the bottom, and Zhou An understood that the argument was over, though neither of them would ever say so.
早晨，街上是盐和断木的气味。账册有一页被水泡坏了，周安并不在意。胡老板拿来一块覆膜招牌，上面用工整的字写着：工具图书馆——周六开放。下面一行小字：先问，再拿。最底下，他添上了自己店的名字。周安明白，那场争论结束了，尽管他们谁也不会说出口。