My Secret Pepsi Plot我的秘密可樂(lè)計(jì)劃

小時(shí)候的我們天真單純，難免會(huì)做出一些讓人哭笑不得的傻事。盡管事情的結(jié)果可能不如預(yù)期的那么美好，但那顆善良淳樸的童心卻彌足珍貴。

In 1988， when my family declared its desire to emigrate， our homeland imposed a brutal discouragement： no person could leave with more than several hundred dollars' worth of possessions on hand. （What would you take？ My mother tried to bring her wedding ring， but it was seized at customs.）

In the Soviet Union， we were secretly wealthy， but we arrived in Brooklyn as poor people. We patrolled curbsides1）， washed floors for $3 an hour， and reused paper towels. I was 10 years old， and I helped how I could. It's an old story2） for immigrant kids： you learn English faster than the adults， becoming their ambassador in this new world. You argue with Nynex over the 10-cent discrepancy3） on the telephone bill and with the grocery clerk over how the potatoes are rung up4）； joy is when you manage to ease the anxiety on the faces of people who， until now， were the ones you looked to for comfort and calm. You wish you were old enough to earn real money instead.

I don't remember how 24 Pepsi-Colas ended up in our fridge. I can't imagine the adults springing for5） such an indulgence. There must have been a sale. Then that aristocratically6） minimalist7） little can， with its sine wave8） of a logo， was finally in my hands. How lightheaded I was after gulping the bubbles too quickly. （But memory misleads： it was my first Pepsi； the indulgence sprung only for me.）

Around this time I learned that American supermarkets gave back 5 cents for every returned empty9）. （Some states， like Michigan， gave you 10 cents.） I decided I would return those cans and give the money to my parents. My secret—a surprise. The problem： no one else in the family would touch them. The indulgence remained for the child.

That week， I drank Pepsi. After school， with dinner， before bed. When I woke up bleary10） and jangled11）， was it from the soda or my anticipation of returning them to Super Duper， the market on 20th Avenue？ I came to hate Pepsi. No matter how much I drank， there seemed to be more. Secretly， I poured one down the drain. But the longed-for day came. Twenty-four empties.

On Saturday afternoon， with my parents out and my grandmother resting， I washed each can as if it were a newborn—water， soap， swish12）， repeat. I didn't know how stringent13） the checking at the supermarket would be， so I would give the inspectors no excuse to turn me away. I washed， dried （Mom's hair dryer）， and stacked14） the cans as if I were handling diamonds. But when I wedged15） my nose into a couple of the openings， I couldn't help catching a whiff16） of the Ivory soap that—fool！—I had used； it was the cheapest， and it smelled that way too. Now Super Duper would never accept them！

The apartment ticking17） with a sunny weekend afternoon's silence， I crept into my parents' bedroom， where， on a bureau18）， my mother kept her one indulgence： a bottle of Climat perfume from Paris. I tiptoed back into the hallway to make sure Grandmother was still sleeping. Then I sprayed the Climat 24 times into 24 washed-and-blow-dried19） Pepsi cans.

My heart beat so fast when I stole out of the apartment， Grandmother snoring lightly， that I don't remember the walk to the supermarket. I do remember the lines—the Italian mothers of Bensonhurst were shopping for the week. But the kid among them got his turn. I gazed at the cashier with helplessness and pre-emptive20） resentment. Please， I thought. Please. She rang up my cans with all the ceremony of， well， a bottle return and handed me a dollar and four nickels. I don't think she looked at me once. I stood there， vibrating slightly.

It would be some time before I learned that the bottle deposit21） is factored into the original cost of the bottle. I was merely reimbursing22） my parents for something already due to them. But that afternoon， returning from the store， my feet didn't feel the pavement. At home， Grandmother was waking to a missing 10-year-old； somewhere in the neighborhood， the other adults were going curbside to curbside to check for loot23）； and I was running toward them with their ransom24） burning a fire in my pocket.

1988年我們家提出移民申請(qǐng)時(shí)，我們的祖國(guó)強(qiáng)制實(shí)施了一項(xiàng)令人沮喪的嚴(yán)苛規(guī)定：每個(gè)人隨身攜帶的東西價(jià)值不得超過(guò)數(shù)百美元。（你還能帶些什么呢？我媽媽試圖把她的結(jié)婚戒指帶走，但在過(guò)海關(guān)時(shí)它被沒(méi)收了。）

我們?cè)谔K聯(lián)是低調(diào)的富人，可來(lái)到布魯克林以后卻淪落為窮人。我們?cè)隈R路邊巡查，為了每小時(shí)三美元的報(bào)酬去刷地板，廚房紙巾也要反復(fù)使用。十歲的我也幫著家里做一些力所能及的事情。對(duì)移民孩子來(lái)說(shuō)，有個(gè)老生常談的說(shuō)法就是：你學(xué)英語(yǔ)比大人們學(xué)得快，因此要成為他們?cè)谶@個(gè)全新世界的代言人。你要為電話賬單多收取了十美分和Nynex （編注：紐約電話公司）爭(zhēng)論，也要為馬鈴薯的計(jì)價(jià)和食品雜貨店的收銀員交涉；當(dāng)你通過(guò)努力使家人臉上的不安漸漸消散時(shí)，你會(huì)感到非常快樂(lè)，因?yàn)樗麄儚倪^(guò)去直到現(xiàn)在都是你獲取慰藉和安寧的源泉。不過(guò)，你真希望自己已經(jīng)到了可以賺錢的年齡。

我不記得那24罐百事可樂(lè)最后是怎么到了我們家冰箱里的。我無(wú)法想象家里的大人會(huì)花錢買這樣的享樂(lè)品，一定是有大甩賣來(lái)著。隨后，那個(gè)商標(biāo)中帶著正弦波弧度、設(shè)計(jì)簡(jiǎn)單而又華貴的小罐子終于到了我的手中。我迫不及待地將它一飲而盡之后，心情是多么愉快呀！（不過(guò)我的記憶出現(xiàn)了偏差：這是我喝過(guò)的第一罐百事可樂(lè)，只買給我一個(gè)人喝的。）

大概就在那段時(shí)間，我發(fā)現(xiàn)在美國(guó)，每個(gè)喝完的空瓶空罐退回超市就可以換回五美分。（某些州返還十美分，如密歇根州。）于是我決定把那些罐子退回超市，把返還的錢拿給爸爸媽媽。這是我的秘密，也是一個(gè)驚喜。問(wèn)題在于，家里沒(méi)有其他人會(huì)去碰那些可樂(lè)，這種享受都留給了我這個(gè)小屁孩。

那一周我一直在喝可樂(lè)，放學(xué)后喝，吃飯時(shí)喝，睡覺(jué)前也喝。一覺(jué)醒來(lái)后，我睡眼惺忪、心煩意亂，這是蘇打水的作用還是因?yàn)槠诖涯切┛蓸?lè)罐退回位于第20大道上的Super Duper超市的緣故呢？我開(kāi)始討厭百事可樂(lè)了。不管我喝了多少，似乎還有更多。于是我悄悄地把其中一罐倒進(jìn)了下水道。不過(guò)，期待已久的那一天終于到了，我有了24個(gè)空罐子。

周六下午，趁爸爸媽媽外出、奶奶在睡覺(jué)，我像給新生嬰兒洗澡那樣清洗了每一個(gè)可樂(lè)罐：打濕，抹上肥皂，涮洗，再這樣洗下一個(gè)。我不知道超市檢查會(huì)有多嚴(yán)格，所以我一定不能讓檢查的人找到任何拒收的理由。我把那些可樂(lè)罐洗干凈，（拿媽媽的吹風(fēng)機(jī)）吹干并擺放整齊，就好像在擺弄鉆石一樣。可是，當(dāng)我把鼻子探進(jìn)幾個(gè)罐子的開(kāi)口處時(shí)，我不禁聞到了一股剛剛用的象牙皂的味道，真是太笨了！這種肥皂是最便宜的，聞起來(lái)也非常廉價(jià)。這下好了，Super Duper超市永遠(yuǎn)不會(huì)要它們了！

那是一個(gè)晴朗的周末，午后的公寓一片寂靜。我躡手躡腳地進(jìn)了爸爸媽媽的臥室，在臥室的五斗櫥上放著一件媽媽的專享品：一瓶巴黎產(chǎn)的Climat幻境香水（編注：蘭蔻經(jīng)典女士香水）。我又躡手躡腳地回到走廊以確認(rèn)奶奶還在睡覺(jué)。然后，我給這24個(gè)洗凈并用吹風(fēng)機(jī)吹干的百事可樂(lè)罐都噴了Climat幻境香水，一共噴了24次。

奶奶輕聲打著鼾，我悄悄溜出了公寓，心跳得太快，以至于我都不記得當(dāng)時(shí)是怎么走到超市的。不過(guò)我清楚地記得當(dāng)時(shí)排的隊(duì)——住在布魯克林班森賀（編注：一個(gè)多種族區(qū)域）的意大利媽媽們?cè)跒橐恢艿纳畲蟛少?gòu)。但我這個(gè)排在她們中間的小屁孩還是排到了。我?guī)е鵁o(wú)助和先發(fā)制人的不滿目不轉(zhuǎn)睛地看著收銀員。一定要收下啊，我心想。一定要收下啊。她按照那套退還空瓶的全部手續(xù)把我的那些可樂(lè)罐計(jì)了價(jià)，然后給了我一張一美元和四個(gè)五美分的鋼镚兒。我覺(jué)得她看都沒(méi)看我一眼，而我卻站在那兒，微微有些發(fā)抖。

又過(guò)了那么一段時(shí)間我才知道，瓶子的原價(jià)已經(jīng)包括了瓶子的押金。我不過(guò)是把原本就屬于爸爸媽媽的錢還給他們而已。然而，那天下午從超市回來(lái)的路上，我卻有種飄飄然的感覺(jué)。家里，一覺(jué)睡醒的奶奶發(fā)現(xiàn)十歲的我不知跑哪里去了；在家附近的某個(gè)地方，其他大人們正沿著路邊一處一處地尋找值錢的東西；我揣著口袋中那屬于他們的滾燙的贖金朝他們跑了過(guò)去。