The radio had lived in a cardboard box since Grandma moved into their flat. It was brown, heavy, and missing one knob. Omar found it while looking for a suitcase and carried it to the kitchen table, where it sat all afternoon like a guest who had forgotten why it came. His mother wiped the dust off the dial.
自从奶奶搬进他们的公寓，那台收音机就一直待在一个纸箱里。它棕色的，很重，少了一个旋钮。奥马尔在找行李箱时发现了它，把它搬到厨房桌上，它就在那里坐了一下午，像一个忘了自己为何而来的客人。妈妈擦掉刻度盘上的灰。
Omar plugged it in. Nothing happened, then a low hum, then a crackle like rain on a tin roof. He turned the dial slowly. Voices rose out of the static, said half a sentence, and vanished. Grandma came in from the balcony and stood very still. “That was hers,” she said. “Nineteen sixty-two. It has not spoken in years.”
奥马尔插上电源。什么也没发生，然后是一阵低低的嗡鸣，接着是噼啪声，像雨点打在铁皮屋顶上。他慢慢转动旋钮。声音从杂音里升起，说了半句话，又消失了。奶奶从阳台走进来，站着一动不动。“那是她的，”她说，“一九六二年。它已经好多年没说过话了。”
On Saturday they took the radio to a repair café in the community hall, where volunteers sat behind tables covered in screws. An old man named Mr. Weiss took the back off with a screwdriver and peered inside. “Dust,” he said. “Dust and one dead capacitor. We can try.” Omar watched him work, handing over tools before he was asked.
星期六，他们把收音机带到社区礼堂的维修咖啡馆，志愿者们坐在摆满螺丝的桌子后面。一位叫魏斯先生的老爷爷用螺丝刀打开后盖，往里看。“灰，”他说，“灰，还有一个坏掉的电容。我们可以试试。”奥马尔看着他干活，总在他开口之前把工具递过去。
It took two hours. Mr. Weiss showed him how to clean the contacts with a pencil eraser, how to test a wire, how to be patient with a thing that was older than everyone in the room. When they plugged it in again, the hum had gone. Only a soft hiss remained, and then, faint but steady, a voice reading the football results.
花了两个小时。魏斯先生教他用铅笔橡皮清理触点，教他怎么测试电线，教他对一个比屋里所有人都年长的东西要有耐心。当他们再次插上电源，嗡鸣消失了。只剩一点轻轻的沙沙声，然后，微弱但稳定地，一个声音开始念足球比赛的结果。
They brought the radio home in a cloth bag. Grandma put it on the kitchen counter, turned the dial to a station that played old songs, and cooked dinner while a woman sang about a train. She did not say much. She hummed, badly, and stirred the pot, and once she stopped to listen with the wooden spoon in the air.
他们把收音机装在布袋里带回家。奶奶把它放在厨房台面上，调到播放老歌的频道，一边做饭，一边听一个女人唱关于火车的歌。她没说什么。她哼着歌，跑调得厉害，搅着锅，有一次还停下来，举着木勺听。
Now the radio plays every evening at six. Omar has learned which stations come in clearly and which need a wire bent toward the window. Mr. Weiss telephoned once to ask how it was going, and Omar told him about the train song. “Good,” said Mr. Weiss. “A repaired thing should have a job.” Grandma says the same, by turning up the volume.
现在，收音机每天傍晚六点都会响。奥马尔已经知道哪些频道清楚、哪些需要把天线弯向窗户。魏斯先生打过一次电话，问收音机怎么样，奥马尔跟他讲了那首火车的歌。“很好，”魏斯先生说，“修好的东西应该有一份工作。”奶奶也这么说，不过她表达的方式是把音量调大。