芒果街上的小屋頭髮

頭髮

　　我們家裡每個人的頭髮都不一樣。爸爸的頭髮像掃把，根根直立往上插。而我，我的頭髮挺懶惰。它從來不聽髮夾和發帶的話。卡洛斯的頭髮又直又厚。他不用梳頭。蕾妮的頭髮滑滑的——會從你手裡溜走。還有奇奇，他最小，茸茸的頭髮像毛皮。

　　只有媽媽的頭髮，媽媽的頭髮，好像一朵朵小小的玫瑰花結，一枚枚小小的糖果圈兒，全都那麼拳曲，那麼漂亮，因為她成天給它們上發卷。把鼻子伸進去聞一聞吧，當她摟著你時。當她摟著你時，你覺得那麼安全，聞到的氣味又那麼香甜。是那種待烤的麵包暖暖的香味，是那種她給你讓出一角被窩時，和著體溫散發的芬芳。你睡在她身旁，外面下著雨，爸爸打著鼾。哦，鼾聲、雨聲，還有媽媽那聞起來像麵包的頭髮。

　　Everybody in our family has different hair. My Papa's hair is like a broom, all up in the air. And me, my hair is lazy. It never obeys barrettes or bands. Carlos' hair is thid straight. He doesn't o b it. Nenny's hair is slippery——slides out of your hand. And Kiki, who is the you, has hair like fur.

　　But my mother's hair, my mother's hair, like little rosettes, like little dy circles all curly and pretty because she pi in pincurls all day, sweet to put your o when she is holding you, holding you and you feel safe, is the warm smell of bread before you bake it, is the smell when she makes room for you on her side of the bed still warm with her skin, and you sleep near her, the rain outside falling and Papa snoring. The snoring, the rain, and Mama's hair that smells like bread.

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