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Unit3Computers【导读】经典短篇小说《回家》(GoingHome)是1971年10月14日刊登在《纽约邮报》上的一个感人的故事。这个故事引出了以黄丝带迎接亲人回家。认真阅读这篇美文，对比中外文化中对待重获自由的被囚禁者的态度的异同。GoingHomeIfirstheardthisstoryafewyearsagofromagirlIhadmetinNewYork'sGreenwichVillage.Probablythestoryisoneofthosemysteriousbitsoffolklore①thatreappeareveryfewyears，tobetoldanewinoneformoranother.However，Istillliketothinkthatitreallydidhappen，somewhere，sometime.TheyweregoingtoFortLauderdale—threeboysandthreegirls—andwhentheyboardedthebus，theywerecarryingsandwichesandwineinpaperbags，dreamingofgoldenbeachesasthegraycoldofNewYorkvanished②behindthem.AsthebuspassedthroughNewJersey，theybegantonoticeVingo.Hesatinfrontofthem，dressedinaplain，illfittingsuit，nevermoving，hisdustyfacemaskinghisage.Hekeptchewingtheinsideofhislipalot，frozenintosomepersonalcocoon③ofsilence.Deepintothenight，outsideWashington，thebuspulledintoHowardJohnson's，andeverybodygotoffexceptVingo.Hesatrootedinhisseat，andtheyoungpeoplebegantowonderabouthim，tryingtoimaginehislife：perhapshewasaseacaptain，arunawayfromhiswife，anoldsoldiergoinghome.Whentheywentbacktothebus，oneofthegirlssatbesidehimandintroducedherself.“We'regoingtoFlorida，”shesaidbrightly.“Ihearit'sreallybeautiful.”“Itis，”hesaidquietly，asifrememberingsomethinghehadtriedtoforget.“Wantsomewine？”shesaid.Hesmiledandtookaswig④.Hethankedherandretreatedagainintohissilence.Afterawhile，shewentbacktotheothers，andVingonoddedinsleep.Inthemorning，theyawokeoutsideanotherHowardJohnson's，andthistimeVingowentin.Thegirlinsistedthathejointhem.Heseemedveryshy，andorderedblackcoffeeandsmokednervouslyastheyoungpeoplechatteredaboutsleepingonbeaches.Whentheyreturnedtothebus，thegirlsatwithVingoagain，andafterawhile，slowlyandpainfully，hetoldhisstory.HehadbeeninjailinNewYorkforthepastfouryears，andnowhewasgoinghome.“Areyoumarried？”“Idon'tknow.”“Youdon'tknow？”shesaid.“Well，whenIwasinjailIwrotetomywife，”hesaid.“ItoldherthatIwasgoingtobeawayalongtime，andthatifshecouldn'tstandit，ifthekidskeptaskingquestions，ifithurttoomuch，well，shecouldjustforgetme，I'dunderstand.Getanewguy，Isaidshe'sawonderfulwoman，reallysomethingandforgetaboutme.Itoldhershedidn'thavetowritemefornothing.Andshedidn't.Notforthreeandahalfyears.”“Andyou'regoinghomenow，notknowing？”“Yeah，”hesaidshyly.“Well，lastweek，whenIwassuretheparole⑤wascomingthrough，Iwroteheragain.WeusedtoliveinBrunswick，justbeforeJacksonville，andthere'sabigoaktreejustasyoucomeintotown.Itoldherthatifshe'dtakemeback，sheshouldputayellowhandkerchiefonthetree，andI'dgetoffandcomehome.Ifshedidn'twantme，forgetit—nohandkerchief，andI'dgoonthrough.”“Wow，”thegirlexclaimed.Shetoldtheothers，andsoonallofthemwereinit，caughtupintheapproachofBrunswick，lookingatthepicturesVingoshowedthemofhiswifeandthreechildren.Thewomanwashandsomeinaplainway，thechildrenstillunformedinthemuchhandledsnapshots⑥.Nowtheywere20milesfromBrunswick，andtheyoungpeopletookoverwindowseatsontherightside，waitingfortheapproachofthegreatoaktree.Thebusacquiredadark，hushedmood，fullofthesilenceofabsenceandlostyears.Vingostoppedlooking，tighteninghisfaceintotheexcon'smask，asiffortifyinghimselfagainststillanotherdisappointment.ThenBrunswickwastenmiles，andthenfive.Then，suddenly，alloftheyoungpeoplewer...