16 Welcome Home

CHAPTER XVI. WELCOME HOME. Wake up, Jack, said Annie. Jack opened his eyes. He was lying in the dark on the wooden floor of the treehouse. Through the window he saw the cloudy sky above the Frog Creek woods. Time to go home, said Annie. Oh, I must have fallen asleep, said Jack. I had the most incredible dream. I dreamed that we went to Camelot. It was Christmas and Merlin

第十六章 欢迎回家 "醒醒，杰克。"安妮说。 杰克睁开了眼睛。 他正躺在树屋的木质地板上，周围一片漆黑。 透过窗户，他看见青蛙溪树林上方的天空布满乌云。 "该回家啦。"安妮说。 "哦，我肯定是睡着了。"杰克说。 我做了个超级不可思议的梦。 我梦见我们去了卡米洛特。 那天是圣诞节，还有梅林

That wasn't a dream," said Annie. It was real. You fell asleep at the round table during the party. King Arthur carried you to the treehouse, and I made the wish for us to come home. Jack sat up. Seriously? He whispered. Seriously, she said. Jack! Annie! Their mom called in the distance. Coming! Annie shouted out the treehouse window. She turned to Jack. Let's go. I mean, seriously? It really happened? Jack asked Annie again. Yes, really, she said. She held up the royal invitation. See? Proof. Oh, yeah, he whispered. This time the letter M stood for Merlin, not Morgan, said Annie. Jack smiled. Thanks, Merlin, he said softly.

"那才不是梦呢。"安妮说。 都是真的。 派对上你在圆桌旁边睡着了。 亚瑟王把你抱到了树屋，我许愿让我们回家的。 杰克坐了起来。 真的假的？ 他小声问。 "是真的呀。"安妮说。 杰克！ 安妮！ 妈妈在远处喊他们。 来了！ 安妮趴在树屋窗户边大喊。 她转头看向杰克。 我们走吧。 我是说，真的吗？ 这一切真的发生过？ 杰克又问了安妮一遍。 "对，是真的。"安妮说。 她举起了那张王室邀请函。 看到没？ 证据哦。 "哦，对啊。"他小声说。 "这次的M代表的是梅林，不是摩根哦。"安妮说。 杰克笑了。 "谢谢你，梅林。"他轻声说。

Jack picked up his backpack. Then he and Annie started down the rope ladder and headed home. As they walked through the deep December twilight snowflakes started to fall. By the time they left the woods and headed down their street snow was swirling everywhere. Ahead they could see their house glowing with lamplight. Their mom was waiting on their front porch. Hi, Mom, said Annie. Hi, Mom, said Jack. Hi, kids. Did you have a good day? She asked. Yeah, said Jack. Pretty good, said Annie. I'm glad, said their mom. Welcome home. She held the door open and Jack and Annie slipped inside. Their house felt extra warm and cozy. Good smells came from the kitchen. Jack and Annie took off their snow -covered jackets and headed up the stairs.

杰克拿起他的背包，然后和安妮顺着绳梯往下爬，往家的方向走去。 他们走在12月浓浓的暮色里，天上开始飘起了雪花。等他们 走出树林，沿着自家所在的街道往前走时，到处都是纷飞的雪花。他们远远能 看见自己家亮着暖黄的灯光，妈妈正站在前门廊等他们。 "妈妈好。"安妮说。"妈妈好。"杰克说。"嗨，孩子们，今天玩得开心吗？"她问。"嗯，" 杰克说。"超开心的。"安妮说。"太好了，"妈妈说，"欢迎回家。"她扶着门 打开，杰克和安妮溜进了屋。家里感觉格外温暖舒适，好闻的味道 从厨房飘出来。杰克和安妮脱掉沾了雪的外套，往楼上走去。

In the hallway Annie turned to Jack. Merry Christmas, she said simply. Merry Christmas, he said. Annie slipped into her room and Jack into his. Jack closed his door and sat on his bed. He took his notebook out of his pack and opened it. His spirits sank. Except for the three rhymes, he'd taken no notes on their journey, not one. Exhausted, Jack lay back on his bed. He squeezed his eyes shut. He tried to remember the details of their adventures in Camelot and the other world. He could feel the terrible chill in the great hall when Morgan was frozen. He could hear the joyful music as the winged dancers danced around in their circle. He could taste the sweet, bitter, spicy taste of the water of memory and imagination. Jack sat up. All at once he felt very awake. He turned to a clean page in his notebook. He grabbed his pencil and wrote.

走到走廊时，安妮转头看向杰克。 "圣诞快乐。"她简简单单地说。 "圣诞快乐。"他说。 安妮溜进自己的房间，杰克也进了自己的房间。 杰克关上房门，坐在了自己的床上。 他从背包里拿出笔记本，翻开。 他的心情一下低落了下来。 除了那三首韵诗，这趟旅程他一个字都没记，一笔都没写。 杰克累坏了，往后倒在床上。 他紧紧闭上眼睛。 他努力回想他们在卡米洛特和另一个世界冒险的所有细节。 他能感觉到摩根被冻住时，大殿里那股骇人的寒意。 他能听见长着翅膀的舞者围成圈跳舞时，那欢快的音乐。 他能尝到记忆与想象之水那甜中带苦、又带着辛辣的味道。 杰克坐了起来。 他一下子变得无比清醒。 他翻到笔记本里空白的一页。 他抓起铅笔写了起来。

It all started when we saw the white dove in the twilight. Using his memory and his imagination, Jack kept writing, doing his part to keep the legend of King Arthur, the Knights of the Round Table, Merlin and Morgan Le Fay alive. As the snow swirled outside his window, Jack wrote and wrote and wrote. He didn't stop writing until he had written down the whole story, his story, of their Christmas in Camelot.

一切都始于暮色里我们看见那只白鸽的时候。 杰克用自己的记忆和想象力不停地写着，尽自己的一份力让亚瑟王、 圆桌骑士、梅林和摩根·勒·菲的传说永远流传下去。 窗外雪花纷飞，杰克写啊写啊，写个不停。 直到把整个故事都写下来他才停笔，那是属于他们的，卡米洛特圣诞节的故事。