Light Across the Quay- 適合中高級的英語短篇故事

Evening mist hung over the harbor as Mateo stepped onto the quay with a palm-sized wooden ship tucked inside his coat. His goal was clear: carry the model to the caretaker who worked inside the white lighthouse across the channel before the clock reached midnight. A training vessel rested nearby; a boatswain coiled damp rope while the helmsman locked the wheel for the night. Mateo waved the model in hope of a quick ride, yet the captain on deck merely lifted both hands, pointing toward the empty water taxis that had already been hauled ashore. The glow from the lighthouse cut confidently through the gloom, and Mateo hurried toward the last dinghy moored beside a barnacled ladder.

The first setback arrived immediately. The dinghy’s painter had been wound so tightly that the knot refused to move, and his fingers slipped on the soaked hemp. After several yanks, the line snapped free, yet one oar cracked against the pier edge, leaving him only a splintered shaft. Rain thickened; waves slapped the stone and pushed the small craft sideways, forcing Mateo back onto the quay. He bolted along the breakwater instead, thinking he could reach the lighthouse by land if he kept the sea on his left. Halfway along, the beam ahead flickered, trembled, and finally vanished. Darkness swallowed the channel, and the harbor siren had already been sounded by a distant watchman.

Three minutes later, as he reached the lighthouse door, a laughing figure emerged from the shadows: the caretaker himself, cradling a fresh bulb under one arm and a dripping paddle under the other. The man explained that the lamp had failed and he had rowed across earlier to collect a spare part, using the very skiff Mateo had planned to borrow. If Mateo had noticed the missing skiff earlier, he would have saved himself the sprint along slippery stones. Instead, both men exchanged a wordless grin while rain pattered around them; the small model ship passed from one pair of hands to the other. Yellow light rested once more on the quiet water.

傍晚的薄霧籠住港灣，馬泰奧抱著一艘巴掌大的木船走上石頭碼頭。他的目標很明確：午夜前，把這件模型交給對岸白色燈塔裡的守塔人。一艘訓練船停在旁邊，水手長正把濕繩捲好，舵手鎖上舵輪。馬泰奧舉起模型，想搭個便船，然而甲板上的船長只是聳聳肩，指向已經被拖上岸的空出租艇。燈塔的光穩穩切開迷霧，馬泰奧快步走向貼在長滿藤壺的梯子旁最後一艘小艇。

挫折馬上出現。小艇的纜繩纏得太緊，潮濕的麻繩讓他的手指一次又一次滑脫。好不容易扯斷繩結，一支槳又在碼頭邊撞裂，只剩斷柄。雨勢加大，浪花拍在石壁，將小艇推回碼頭，他也被迫跳回岸上。他改沿著防波堤奔跑，打算沿陸路靠著海岸趕去燈塔。跑到一半，前方的光束閃爍、抖動，最後熄滅。黑暗吞下水道，遠方的警笛已經響起。

三分鐘後，他抵達燈塔門口，一個帶笑聲的身影從陰影裡走出—正是守塔人，腋下夾著新的燈泡，另一手抱著還在滴水的槳。原來燈泡壞了，他早些時候已划船過來取備品，用的正是馬泰奧原本打算借的小艇。如果馬泰奧早注意到小艇不見，就不必在濕滑石塊上狂奔了。雨點環繞，兩人無言對視微笑；小模型從一雙手傳到另一雙手。黃色的燈光再次停在靜靜的水面上。