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◎ Gilbert Wright
Located in the checkroom in Union Station as I am, I see everybody that comes up the stairs.
Harry3 came in a little over three years ago and waited at the head of the stairs for the passengers
from the 9:05 train.
I remember seeing Harry that first evening. He wasn’t much more than a thin, anxious kid then.
He was all dressed up and I knew he was meeting his girl and that they would be married twenty
minutes after she arrived.
Well, the passengers came up and I had to get busy. I didn’t look toward the stairs again until
nearly time for the 9:18 and I was very surprised to see that the young fellow was still there.
She didn’t come on the 9:18 either, nor on the 9:40, and when the passengers from the 10:02 had
all arrived and left, Harry was looking pretty desperate. Pretty soon he came close to my window so I
called out and asked him what she looked like.
“She’s small and dark,” he said, “and nineteen years old and very neat in the way she walks. She
has a face,” he said, thinking a minute, “that has lots of spirit. I mean she can get mad but she never
stays mad for long, and her eyebrows4 come to a little point in the middle. She’s got a brown fur, but
maybe she isn’t wearing it.”
I couldn’t remember seeing anybody like that.
He showed me the telegram he’d received:
ARRIVE THURSDAY. MEET ME STATION. LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE.
MAY.
It was from Omaha, Nebraska.
“Well,” I finally said, “why don’t you phone to your home? She’s probably called there if she
got in ahead of you.”
He gave me a sick look. “I’ve only been in town two days. We were going to meet and then
drive down South where I’ve got a job. She hasn’t any address for me.” He touched the telegram.
When I came on duty the next day he was still there and came over as soon as he saw me.
“Did she work anywhere?” I asked.
He nodded. “She was a typist. I telegraphed her former boss. All they know is that she left her
job to get married.”
Harry met every train for the next three or four days. Of course, the railroad lines made a routine
checkup and the police looked into the case. But nobody was any real help. I could see that they all
figured that May had simply played a trick on him. But I never believed that, somehow.
One day, after about two weeks, Harry and I were talking and I told him about my theory. “If
you’ll just wait long enough,” I said, “you’ll see her coming up those stairs some day.” He turned and
looked at the stairs as though he had never seen them before.
The next day when I came to work Harry was behind the counter of Tony’s magazine stand. He
looked at me rather sheepishly and said, “Well, I had to get a job somewhere, didn’t I?”
ever mentioned my theory. But I noticed that Harry always saw every person who came up the stairs.
widow left Harry in complete charge of the magazine stand. And when she got married again some
pretty soon he had a very nice little business.
Then came yesterday. I heard a cry and a lot of things falling. The cry was from Harry and the
things falling were a lot of dolls and other things which he had upset while he was jumping over the
her eyebrows came to a little point in the middle.
For a while they just hung there to each other laughing and crying and saying things without
meaning. She’d say a few words like, “It was the bus station I meant,” and he’d kiss her speechless
and tell her the many things he had done to find her. What apparently9 had happened three years
before was that May had come by bus, not by train, and in her telegram she meant “bus station”, not
“railroad station”. She had waited at the bus station for days and had spent all her money trying to
find Harry. Finally she got a job typing.
“What?” said Harry. “Have you been working in town? All the time?”
She nodded.
magazine stand. “I’ve been there all the time. I own it. I’ve watched everybody that came up the
stairs.”
She began to look a little pale. Pretty soon she looked over at the stairs and said in a weak voice,
“I never came up the stairs before. You see, I went out of town yesterday on a short business trip. Oh,
Harry!” Then she threw her arms around his neck and really began to cry.
“Harry, for three years, for three solid years, I’ve been right over there working right in this very
station, typing, in the office of the stationmaster.”
我工作的地方位于联合车站的行李寄存处，我看得见每一个上楼的人。
哈里三年多以前就等在这里，站在楼梯口等待9时5分到达的火车旅客。
我还记得第一晚见到哈里时的情景。那时，他瘦瘦的，神情焦虑，像个孩子一样。他穿
戴整齐，我知道他是在等女朋友，而且在她到达20分钟之后他们就要结婚了。
旅客们过来了，我得忙碌起来。等到9点18分那趟车快到的时候，我才再往楼梯方向看
去，我吃惊地发现那个年轻人还在那里。
她也没乘9点18分的那趟车来，9点40分的车上也没她。等10点02分那趟车的旅客全都到
达并离开后，哈里显得非常失望。很快他走近我的窗口，我就招呼他，问她长得什么模样。
“她个子小小的，皮肤黑黑的，”他说，“19岁，走路的样子很利落。她的脸，”他想了
想，说，“很有个性。我的意思是说她会生气，但从不会生气太久。她的眉心处有一个小点
儿。她有一件褐色毛皮大衣，不过也许没穿在身上。”
我想不起来看见过有谁长得像那样。
他给我看他收到的电报：
星期四到。车站接我。爱你爱你爱你爱你。
梅。
电报寄自内布拉斯加州的奥马哈。
“呃，”我最后说，“你为什么不往家里打个电话？如果她先你到达这里，她可能已给你家
打过电话。”
他懊恼地看了我一眼。“我到城里才两天。我们打算见面之后开车去南方，我在那儿找到
了一份工作。她也没给我任何地址。”他摸了摸电报。
第二天我去值班时，他还在那儿。一看见我，他就走了过来。
“她在哪儿工作过吗？”我问。
他点了点头。“她本来是个打字员。我给她以前的老板拍了电报。他们只知道她不干了，
结婚去了。”
哈里在后来的三四天里接了每趟火车。当然，铁路方面作了例行检查，警察也参与调查
了这件事。但是实际上谁也帮不上什么忙。我看得出来，他们都觉得梅可能只是捉弄他而
已，但不知为什么，我却不这么认为。
有一天，大约是两周后，哈里和我聊天，我和他谈了我的想法。“假如你等的时间够长的
话，”我说，“总有一天，你会看见她走上楼梯的。”他转过身看着楼梯，仿佛过去从来没见过
一样。
第二天我去上班时，哈里已经站在托尼杂志摊的柜台后面了。他不大好意思地看着我
说：“嗯，我总得在哪儿找个工作，是不是？”
于是，他开始给托尼卖杂志。我们再也不谈梅了，谁也不提我的看法。但是我注意到哈
里总要看看每个上楼的人。
年底的时候，托尼由于赌博发生争执而被别人杀了。托尼的妻子将杂志摊完全交给了哈
里打理。一段时间之后，她又结婚了，哈里就从她那儿把杂志摊买了过来。他借了钱，装了
个冷饮柜，不久，他就有了个不错的小生意。
于是到了昨天，我听见了一声叫喊，还听见许多东西掉在地上的声音。是哈里在叫，掉
在地上的是一大堆玩具和其他的东西，都是他跳过柜台时弄翻的。他跑过去抓住了一个女
孩，她就在离我窗户不到十英尺的地方。她个子小小的，黑黑的，眉心处有一个小点儿。
好一会儿的时间，他们就那么待着，相对着笑呀，哭呀，讲些没什么意义的话。她好像
说：“我指的是汽车站——”而他则把她吻得说不出话来，告诉她自己为了找她所做的许多事
情。显然，三年前梅是乘汽车而不是火车来的。她电报里指的是“汽车站”而不是“火车站”。
她在汽车站等了好几天，为找哈里花掉了所有的钱。最后，她找了一份打字的工作。
“什么？”哈里说，“你在城里工作？一直都在？”
她点点头。
“哎呀，老天爷——你就从来没到这个车站来过？”他把手指向杂志摊。“我一直就在那
儿。那个摊儿是我的。我看过每个上楼的人。”
她的脸色开始变得有些苍白。过了一会儿，她看着楼梯，声音微弱地说：“我……我过去
一直没上这个楼梯。你看，我昨天出城是去办点公事——噢，哈里！”然后，她伸手搂住他的
脖子，真的哭了起来。
过了一会儿，她后退了一步，用手直指车站的最北端。“哈里，三年来，整整三年，我就
在那儿——就在这个车站工作，在站长办公室里，打字。”
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