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Okay, so I believed her. Sort of. Who, in her supposed condition, could cover a baseball team without the best equipment and help? I was curious, so I asked if I could drive over to see her. She agreed, giving me detailed directions involving farm roads and streets with no names.
不错，我就这么相信了她。有几分信吧。在像她所称的那种情况下，有谁能没有最好的设备和帮助而报道一个棒球队呢？我很好奇，所以我问她我能不能开车过去看她。她同意了，并详细告诉我路怎么走，其中提到乡下的泥路和没有名字的街道。
I drove east across the stark Texas landscape. On a winding dirt road dotted with potholes the size of small animals, I spotted what looked like an old tool shed.
我开车向东驶去，穿过得克萨斯的荒凉地带。在一条蜿蜒曲折布满小动物大小的坑洼的泥路上，我看到了样子像旧工具棚的屋子。
But it wasn't a shed. It was a house, a decaying shanty surrounded by tall grass and junk.
但这不是一个工具棚，这是一所房子，一个被高高的杂草和废弃物包围的正在朽烂的小棚屋。
Could this be right?
是不是这个地方呢？
A woman in an old T-shirt and skirt emerged.
一位身着旧T恤衫和裙子的妇女从棚屋里走了出来。
“I'm Sarah's mother,” said Lois Morris, grabbing my smooth hand with a worn one. “She's waiting for you.”
“我是萨拉的母亲，”洛伊·莫里斯一边说一边用她那粗糙的手握着我光滑的手。“她在等你呢。”
I walked out of the sunlight, opened a torn screen door and moved into the shadows, where an 87-pound figure was curled up in a wheelchair.
我从太阳光下走进去，打开一扇破烂的屏门，走进了阴暗的棚子，棚子里蜷缩在轮椅上的是一个87磅重的躯体。
Her limbs twisted. Her head rolled. We could not hug. We could not even shake hands. She could only stare at me and smile.
她的四肢扭了一扭。她的头转了一转。我们无法拥抱，甚至也无法握手。她只能张大眼睛看我，向我微笑。
But that smile! It cut through the gloom of the battered wooden floor, the torn couch and the cobwebbed windows.
可她那微笑里充满了光芒！它穿透了由破烂的木地板、旧躺椅和结满蜘蛛网的窗户围起来的黑暗空间。
I could bear to look at nothing else, so I stared at that smile, and it was so clear, so certain, it even cut through most of my doubts. But still, I wondered. This is Sarah Morris?
我不忍心看别的任何东西，所以我的眼睛只盯住她那微笑，它是那么清晰，那么自信，它甚至令我的多数怀疑一扫而光。但我还是要问，这就是莎拉·莫里斯吗？
She began shaking in her chair, emitting sounds. I thought she was coughing.
她开始在轮椅里摇晃，嘴里发出声音。我以为她在咳嗽。 She was, instead, speaking. Her mother interpreted. “I want to show you something,” Sarah said.
可实际上，她是在说话。她的母亲为她翻译。“我要给你看点东西，”萨拉说。
Lois rolled her up to an old desk on cinder blocks. On the desk was a computer. Next to it was a TV. Her mother fastened a head pointer around her daughter's temples.
洛伊把她推到搭在煤灰砖上的一张旧书桌前。桌子上放着一台电脑。电脑旁是一台电视机。她的母亲将一根小棒绑在她女儿的太阳穴上。
Sarah leaned over the computer and used her pointer to call up a story on the Dodger Place website. Peck by peck, she began adding to that story.
萨拉趴在电脑上，用绑在她头上的小棒调出道奇地网站上的一篇报道。她开始一啄一啄地在这篇报道上添字加句。
She looked up and giggled. I looked down in wonder — and shame.
她抬起头看我并发出咯咯的笑声。我低头看她，心里充满了惊奇—还有羞愧。
This was indeed Sarah Morris. The great Sarah Morris.
这真的就是萨拉·莫里斯。这个伟大的萨拉·莫里斯。
