THE INSPIRING STORIES FOR
LEARNING SPOKEN ENGLISH
英语口语学习励志故事
Speaking English Saved Me from Butcher’s Knife
讲英语让我刀下逃生
——节选自John Y 长篇美国留学生活英语回忆录
ENGLISH SPEAKING-AN ECHO ONLY FROM COMMITME
(英文附中文本）
If I say that a person with good English communication skills will be able to show off fashion and education, will help find a good job, will be more likely promoted or get a pay raise in a career, will make more domestic and foreign friends, or will have better chance to go abroad for overseas studies, there should be no disagreement. But if I say speaking English could have saved a human life, perhaps no one would agree.
During my third year in the US, however, there was one incident that made me feel speaking English could be a matter of life and death. I had experienced another robbery and it was speaking English that had saved my ass from a butcher’s knife.
In the autumn of 1989, I moved from Pasadena to West Covina. Security in this area was not good but the rent was cheap. I went to UCLA class during the day and in evenings I worked for a Pizza Hut branch shop at Azusa Boulevard as a delivery guy.
One night, it had already passed ten o 'clock and I was going to get off from the work. Just then the telephone rang, a delivery order had come. The manager asked me to run one more time and I had no other choice. After a few minutes, I packed the pizza in a big case, started my Celica and then rushed into the streets. I wouldn't have expected that a death trap was there awaiting me.
It was a quiet neighborhood, and most residents probably had gone to bed. There was not a figure on the streets, only a few shimmering lights were flashing up from inside the house windows along the roadside.
My Celica stopped in front of a house down the street. I looked at the street No. and told myself: “Yes, here it is”. I parked the car across the street, got out and holding the pizza, walked on to the front steps. But I found the door light was off and the window facing the street was fully covered by the curtain with not even a glimmer of light seen. I stepped forward and knocked at the door but there was no answer. I knocked again and saw the window curtain move a little opening a small corner. Behind the corner I saw a Hispanic face show up and then disappear straight after.
“Fuck, what’s up?” I got a little impatient.
While I stood on the doorway wondering, a figure was coming from the corner of the house towards me. Looking at the size and shape, I could tell that he was a black man in 20s. Guessing he was the right person for the order, I said to him: "Hey sir, your order please!"
He had already walked over to me. Just at that moment, he suddenly struck down the pizza in my right hand with his left fist, followed by a heavy knock with his right fist straight at my left cheek. This sudden attack took me off guard and I fell down to the grass under the footsteps, the pizza scattering all over the ground.
At this time, from the corner of the house jumped out another black guy. They were both wearing tough shoes and kicked me hard all over my body. Then the first guy lowered himself down, put his left knee against my chest, one hand grasped my hair and his other hand pulled out a foot long butcher’s knife that he held against my neck with its sharp edge. Then the latter bent over me and searched my clothes. "Where's the money?" he whispered.
"Here it is!" From my pocket I pulled out a wallet and passed it over, it contained 30 dollars. The black guy dragged the wallet, took out the money and counted. "No… More, more! We want more money!" Obviously, this money couldn’t satisfy their appetites so they started striking me again and I let out a low but fierce cry.
Lying back down on the grass, I was feeling a sharp stabbing pain in the neck, but I couldn’t move at all. In the night sky, I could see only a few stars twinkling weakly. I felt the blood flowing from my nose and mouth, along my jaw and into ears, gurgling and dripping on to the grass.
"This guy got no money, we’d kill him!" I heard one of the blacks saying. Then, he pushed the blade forward against my neck, lowered his head and said to me: "Poor man, you saw us today, we goanna kill you!"
A terrible thought suddenly came across my mind: “They’re going to kill me! Is this the night, now, my last moment in the world?”
Triggered by such a thought, however, I had calmed down and the human survival instinct arose in me with all kinds of emergency reactive mechanisms instantly flashing before my mind, one after another. Benefitting from my profession in psychology, I had good personal character, and necessary knowledge and readiness as well on how to deal with such desperate situations. I knew I couldn't show any signs of resistance or intentions of the kind. I knew I must keep calm, must be rational and must make the assailants calm down and be rational too. At the same time I must also fulfill their desires and let them know I could make it right now. The only way to do all of these effectively was to keep communicating with them, both orally and psychologically!
Thinking of these, I had blurted out a bunch of English speaking:
"Calm down, sir!"
"Don’t do any stupid things, sir!"
"You can take everything you want, sir!"
"Save me and save yourself!"
These words really took effect at once. The sharp blade didn’t cut down and yelling tone also eased slightly. "What you have more?" One black guy asked maliciously.
"I’ve got a car, a Celica!" It suddenly emerged in my mind that I had a car, which might be the last piece of straw that could have saved me from sinking.
.
"Where’s it?”
"It’s over there!" I pointed to the car across the street.
"Where's the key?"
"In the car, go take it!"
"If no key, we kill you!"
Saying this, the black guy searching me immediately gave up and ran to the street. Moments later an engine starting sound came up.
"Come on, let's go!" A shout came from across the street. The other guy on me quickly removed the knife from my neck, stood up and ran into the darkness…
After a while, accompanied by a burst of engine acceleration, I heard the familiar sound of my Celica moving away in the distance. It was like I had just woken up from a nightmare. I rose to my feet from the grass, wiped out the blood from my mouth and cheek, heaved a long sigh of relief, and then, walked to the door of the house...
(End of Part One)
（中文本）
讲英语让我刀下逃生
如果我说，一个人具有良好的英语沟通能力，能够展现时尚和教养，能够帮助找到好的工作，能够有助于升职和加薪，能够交更多的中外朋友，或者能够方便于出国深造，应该没有人会反对。但是如果我说，会讲英语能够救人一命，大概就没有多少人会同意了。
然而，我到美国的第三年，有一件事让我看到会不会讲英语操纵了生与死的大门。我遇到了黑人蓄谋袭击抢劫，是讲英语救了我一命。
1989年秋天，我的住处从洛城的Pasadena（帕萨迪纳）搬到West Covina（西柯汶那）。这个区的安全不太好，但房租较便宜。我白天到学校上课，晚上利用余暇时间在Pizza Hut（美国连锁快餐店，在中国称“必胜客” ）打工，专管送外卖。
有一天晚上，时间已经过了十点，我该下班了。正好这时电话铃声响了，来了个外送的order（订餐）。当班经理让我再跑一趟，算是加班。我别无选择。几分钟后，我包装好匹萨饼，启动了我的那辆Celica（丰田跑车），向黑暗中驶去。我怎么也不会想到，一个死亡的陷进正在等待着我。
那是一个僻静的街区，居民此时大多已经熄灯就寝。路上没有一个人影。路边除了一幢幢黑鸦鸦的住房，只有玻璃窗上粼粼的闪光忽隐忽现。
车在一幢沿街的房屋前停下。我对了一下号码——没错，就是这家。我把车停在路边，手托着一大盒匹萨饼，走上门前的台阶。可不知为什么，这家的门前灯没有亮，对着街的窗帘也掩得严严实实的，看不见一丝灯光。我敲了敲门，没有动静。又敲了敲，旁边窗户的帘子动了一下。隔着玻璃窗我看到一张脸，但马上又消失了。
“Fxxx！What’s up?”（妈的，怎么回事？）我心里有些不耐烦了。
我站在门口正纳闷，从房子的转角处闪出一个人影，向我走来。从体型和肤色上看，这是一个体格强壮的黑人，约莫二十来岁。“这应该是order匹萨饼的房子主人了！”我一边这样想，一边迎着他走过去。“Sir, this is your order.”我说。
他已经走到我跟前。说时迟，那时快，他猛然伸出左手掀翻我右手托着的匹萨饼，紧接着右手一个直拳重重地击打在我的脸上。这突如其来的袭击令我猝不及防，四脚朝天摔倒在台阶下的草地上，匹萨撒了一地。
这时从房子转角处又窜出一个黑人。两人用穿着大头皮鞋的脚先对我一阵乱踢，然后先前那个黑人蹲下身，用左膝盖抵住我的胸部，一只手抓住我的头发，另一只手从身上抽出一把一尺多长的利刃，用刃尖抵住我的颈子。后来的黑人则弯腰搜我的衣服。“Where’s the money?”他低声嚎叫。
“Here’s the money!”我从裤袋里掏出皮夹子递过去，里边有三十多美元。黑人一把抢过去，抽出钱数了数。“No, more, more! We want more money!”（不，我们还要钱，要钱！）显然，这点小钱满足不了他们的胃口，他们又继续凶狠地喊叫。
我仰面躺在草地上，除了感到利刃戳在脖子上阵阵的刺痛，一动也不能动。夜空中，只有几颗星星无力地闪着光。我又感觉到血从鼻孔和口腔流出来，顺着腮帮流到耳根，汩汩地淌到草地上。
“This guy got no money, we’d kill him!”（这家伙没钱，我们最好宰了他！）我听到其中一个黑人在说。接着，那个用利刃抵住我脖子的黑人于是低下头来，轻轻地对我说：“You saw us today, we goanna kill you!”（你今天看见我们了，我们要杀了你！）
一种可怕的预感突然在我脑海升起：他们要杀人了！这个夜晚，现在，是我在美国，也就是在这个世界上的最后一刻了！
可是这样一想，我反而镇静下来，一种求生的本能使各种应急的念头在瞬间一一闪过。好在修学心理专业的我素有较好的心理素质，也有如何对付这种突然袭击的必要知识和心理准备。我知道，我不能表现有丝毫的反抗动作或意图，而必须镇静，必须理智，也要让凶徒镇静和理智；同时，我还要满足他们的欲望，要立即让他们知道我能办到这一点。而要做到所有这一切，唯一有效的办法是持续保持与他们的沟通，语言的和心理的！
于是，一连串英语从我嘴里脱口而出：
“Calm down, sir!”（镇静，先生！）
“Don’t do any stupid things, sir!”（别做傻事！）
“You can take everything from me you want, sir!”（你们要从我身上拿什么就拿什么吧，先生！）
“Save me and you save yourself!”（拯救我也就是拯救你们自己！）
这一招果然有效，黑人的利刃没有下来，叫喊的口气也稍稍缓和了些。“What you have more?”（你还有什么？）
“I’ve got a car, a Celica!”（我有一辆车，丰田跑车！）我突然想起我的车，这是最后的救命稻草了。
“Where’s it?”（在哪里？）
“It’s over there!”（街对面！）我指了指街对面的车影。
“Where’s the key?”（钥匙呢？）
“In the car，go take it!”（在车上，去取吧！）
“If no key, we kill you!”（如没钥匙，就宰了你！）
旁边的黑人起身向街对面跑过去。一会儿传来车启动的马达声。
“Come on, let’s go!”（过来，快走！）车那边传来叫喊声。那个骑在我身上的黑人，马上将利刃从我脖子上移开，扔下我，转身飞快地向街对面跑去。
不一会儿，伴随着一阵熟悉的引擎加速的尖啸，我听到车向远处驶去的声音。这时，我才如噩梦醒来般从地上爬起来，擦了擦嘴边的鲜血，长长地吁了一口气，向刚才那家人家的门口走去……
