02 My Grandmother

My Grandmother I myself had two separate encounters with witches before I was eight years old. From the first I escaped unharmed, but on the second occasion I was not so lucky. Things happened to me that will probably make you scream when you read about them. That can't be helped. The truth must be told. The fact that I am still here and able to speak to you (however peculiar I may look) is due entirely to my wonderful grandmother. My grandmother was Norwegian. The Norwegians know all about witches, for Norway, with its black forests and icy mountains, is where the first witches came from. My father and my mother were also Norwegian, but because my father had a business in England, I had been born there and had lived there and had started going to an English school. Twice a year, at Christmas and in the summer, we went back to Norway to visit my grandmother. This old lady, as far as I could

我自己在八岁之前就两次与女巫接触。 第一次我毫发无伤地逃脱了，但第二次我就没那么幸运了。 发生在我身上的事情，当你读到它们时，可能会让你尖叫。 那是没办法的。必须说出真相。 我现在还在这里，能够对你们说话(不管我看起来多么古怪)，这完全归功于我了不起的祖母。 我的祖母是挪威人。 挪威人对女巫了如指掌，因为拥有黑森林和冰山的挪威是第一批女巫的发源地。 我的父亲和母亲也是挪威人，但因为我父亲在英国做生意，我出生在那里，住在那里，并开始在一所英国学校上学。 每年两次，在圣诞节和夏天，我们回挪威看望我的祖母。 这位老妇人，就我所知

gather, was just about the only surviving relative we had on either side of our family. She was my mother's mother and I absolutely adored her. When she and I were together we spoke in either Norwegian or in English. It didn't matter which. We were equally fluent in both languages, and I have to admit that I felt closer to her than to my mother. Soon after my seventh birthday, my parents took me as usual to spend Christmas with my grandmother in Norway. And it was over there, while my father and mother and I were driving in icy weather just north of Oslo, that our car skidded off the road and went tumbling down into a rocky ravine. My parents were killed. I was firmly strapped into the back seat and received only a cut on the forehead. I won't go into the horrors of that terrible afternoon. I still get the shivers when I think about it. I finished up, of course, back in my grandmother's house with her arms around me tight and both of us crying the whole night long.

盖勒，大概是我们家族中唯一在世的亲戚了。 她是我母亲的母亲，我非常崇拜她。 我和她在一起的时候，我们不是说挪威语就是说英语。 不管用哪一种。我们两种语言都说得很流利，我不得不承认，我觉得和她比和母亲更亲近。 我七岁生日过后不久，父母像往常一样带我去挪威和祖母一起过圣诞节。 就在那里，当我和爸爸妈妈在奥斯陆北部的冰天雪地里开车时，我们的车滑出了路面，滚进了一个多岩石的峡谷。 我的父母被杀了。我被牢牢地绑在后座上，只是额头上受了点伤。 我不想细讲那个可怕的下午的恐怖。 我一想到这件事就会不寒而栗。 当然，最后我回到了祖母家，她紧紧地搂着我，我们俩哭了一整夜。

'What are we going to do now?' I asked her through the tears. 'You will stay here with me,' she said, 'and I will look after you.' 'Aren't I going back to England?' 'No,' she said. 'I could never do that. Heaven shall take my soul, but Norway shall keep my bones.' The very next day, in order that we might both try to forget our great sadness, my grandmother started telling me stories. She was a wonderful story-teller and I was enthralled by everything she

“我们现在该怎么办?”我流着泪问她。 “你留在这里和我在一起，”她说，“我会照顾你的。“我不是要回英国吗?”“不，”她说。 “我永远不会那样做。上天会带走我的灵魂，但挪威会保留我的尸骨。”就在第二天，为了让我们都忘记我们巨大的悲伤，祖母开始给我讲故事。 她很会讲故事，我对她讲的每件事都很着迷

told me. But I didn't become really excited until she got on to the subject of witches. She was apparently a great expert on these creatures and she made it very clear to me that her witch stories, unlike most of the others, were not imaginary tales. They were all true. They were the gospel truth. They were history. Everything she was telling me about witches had actually happened and I had better believe it. What was worse, what was far, far worse, was that witches were still with us. They were all around us and I had better believe that, too. 'Are you really being truthful, Grandmamma? Really and truly truthful?' 'My darling,' she said, 'you won't last long in this world if you don't know how to spot a witch when you see one.' 'But you told me that witches look like ordinary women, Grandmamma. So how can I spot them?' 'You must listen to me,' my grandmother said. 'You must remember everything I tell you. After that, all you can do is cross your heart and pray to heaven and hope for the best.'

告诉我。但直到她谈到女巫这个话题，我才真正兴奋起来。 她显然是研究这些生物的专家，她向我明确表示，她的女巫故事，不像其他大多数故事，不是虚构的故事。 他们都是真的。它们是福音真理。 它们都是历史。她告诉我的关于女巫的一切都是真的，我最好相信它。 更糟糕的是，更糟糕的是，女巫们还和我们在一起。 他们就在我们周围，我最好也相信这一点。 “你说的是实话吗，奶奶?” 真的是真的吗?“亲爱的，”她说，“如果你不知道怎样一眼就认出女巫，你在这个世界上活不了多久。“但是你告诉我女巫看起来像普通女人，奶奶。” 那么我怎样才能发现它们呢?“你必须听我说，”我祖母说。 “你必须记住我告诉你的一切。 在那之后，你所能做的就是在胸前划十字，向上帝祈祷，希望一切都会好起来。”

We were in the big living-room of her house in Oslo and I was ready for bed. The curtains were never drawn in that house, and through the windows I could see huge snowflakes falling slowly on to an outside world that was as black as tar. My grandmother was tremendously old and wrinkled, with a massive wide body which was smothered in grey lace. She sat there majestic in her armchair, filling every inch of it. Not even a mouse could have squeezed in to sit beside her. I myself, just seven years old, was crouched on the floor at her feet, wearing pyjamas, dressing-gown and slippers. 'You swear you aren't pulling my leg?' I kept saying to her. 'You swear you aren't just pretending?' 'Listen,' she said, 'I have known no less than five children who have simply vanished off the face of this earth, never to be seen again. The witches took them.' 'I still think you're just trying to frighten me,' I said.

我们在她位于奥斯陆的房子的大客厅里，我准备睡觉。 那所房子从来没有拉过窗帘，透过窗户，我可以看到巨大的雪花慢慢地落在外面的世界上，像焦油一样黑。 我的祖母年事已高，满脸皱纹，她那宽大的身躯裹着灰色的花边。 她庄严地坐在扶手椅里，把椅子的每一寸都填满了。 甚至连一只老鼠都挤不进去坐在她旁边。 我自己只有七岁，穿着睡衣、晨衣和拖鞋，蹲在她脚边的地板上。 "你发誓你不是在跟我开玩笑? "我一直对她说。 “你发誓你不是在装?”“听着，”她说，“我知道至少有五个孩子就这样从地球上消失了，再也没有人见过他们。 女巫把他们带走了。“我还是觉得你只是想吓唬我，”我说。

'I am trying to make sure you don't go the same way,' she said. 'I love you and I want you to stay with me.' 'Tell me about the children who disappeared,' I said. My grandmother was the only grandmother I ever met who smoked cigars. She lit one now, a long black cigar that smelt of burning rubber. 'The first child I knew who disappeared,' she said, 'was called Ranghild Hansen. Ranghild was about eight at the time, and she was playing with her little sister on the lawn. Their mother, who was baking bread in the kitchen, came outside for a breath of air. "Where's Ranghild?" she asked. ' "She went away with the tall lady," the little sister said. ' "What tall lady?" the mother said. ' "The tall lady in white gloves," the little sister said. "She took Ranghild by the hand and led her away." No one,' my grandmother said, 'ever saw Ranghild again.' 'Didn't they search for her?' I asked.

“我想确保你不会走同样的路，”她说。 “我爱你，我想让你和我在一起。“给我讲讲那些失踪的孩子吧，”我说。 我的祖母是我见过的唯一一个抽雪茄的祖母。 “我认识的第一个失踪的孩子，”她说，“名叫兰希尔德·汉森。 朗希尔德当时大约八岁，她和她的小妹妹在草坪上玩耍。 他们的母亲正在厨房里烤面包，走到外面透透气。 “朗希尔德在哪儿?”她问。 “‘她和那位高个女士走了，’小妹妹说。 “‘哪个高个子女士?’母亲问。 “‘戴白手套的高个女士，’小妹妹说。 “她拉着朗希尔德的手，把她带走了。” “没有人，”我祖母说，“再见过朗希尔德。“他们没有去找她吗?”我问。