誰是兇手?

今天店裡來了一家人，一對黑人夫婦領著兩個3，4歲左右的女孩。樣子有些寒酸，拉蹋。簡單寒喧后，我開始檢查他們帶來的電腦。

"什麼問題?" 我習慣性的發問。

"病毒!"

"是否要保留數據?" 這是我們開始工作前必須搞清楚的一個問題。

"要。" 女人的聲音。

"價錢要貴些。" 我抬頭看了她一眼。

"要！" 仍然是女人的聲音，而且沒有一絲猶豫。

"$120" 我強調一下，很怕她搞錯了。

女人看了一眼男人然後再次轉向我，非常堅決的說:"多少錢都要！"

我有些不相信自己的耳朵。憑經驗，通常這樣的人都喜歡越便宜越好，可是他們。。。。。這不是歧視，而是我多年積累的經驗。傳數據時，我發現裡面有許多照片，而且是看起來及其普通的生活照。

下午，他們來取機器時。我給他們展示了他們想要的數據，他們看后非常滿意，一連說了幾聲謝謝。

"傳出來的數據里，幾乎都是照片。" 我想確定這是否是他們想要的內容。

"是的，我兒子。" 女人有些傷感。

"你兒子，那個穿短袖的?"

"是的，他死了，是自己開槍打死的自己。" 表情很平靜，但淚水卻從女人的眼裡溢出來了。我最看不得別人傷心得樣子，所以馬上把頭轉向她的丈夫。

"你不知道? 新聞都報導了，就在幾天前。" 男人毫無表情，木訥，機械地回答我的提問。

"誰的槍? 為什麼向自己開槍呢?" 我十分不解的追問。

"他可能以為槍里沒有子彈，所以就。。。" 女人搶過話頭，眼裡滿是淚花。

"誰給他的槍呢? "

"不知道！"

"他是老五?" 我沒話找話，完全是瞎猜。

"對，是老五，我們總共有8個孩子。" 還是女人的聲音。

"我不要錢了，你們取了機就走吧。" 我下意識地說到。

"不可以，這是$120。" 女人一邊說一邊把手裡的錢遞給我。

我從中拿50元，把其餘的錢又塞到離我最近的孩子手裡，我真怕那個女人再堅持。

"買點好東西吃吧。" 我故意把臉對著孩子不看兩個大人的眼睛，別人感激的目光我也受不了。

他們臨走時，再三謝我，還說過幾天還有另外的電腦要修理。我說隨時都可以來，但我只收50元錢。

他們走後，我的心情久久難以平靜。 眼裡總是晃動著那個身穿桔黃色T-Shirt的大男孩的身影。誰殺了他? 是美國社會制度中有關槍支法的問題? 抑或是由於孩子太多疏於管教的結果? 這不禁又讓我想起一個發小玩大人的槍走火的事情來，當時我們就他在旁邊，只顧著玩自己的，誰也沒有想到他會扣動板機，而且槍里真有子彈。萬幸的是子彈就從我們幾個小孩身邊擦了過去，如果他的槍口偏一點，後果真是不堪設想。。。。幸虧中國對槍支管理十分嚴格，否則中國人口那麼多，法制又不健全，人還缺乏信念，不知道會出多少亂子呢。

但我還是想不明白，到底是誰殺了那個17歲的孩子?

Author: Mostafa Malaekah

They say that a fool lives to eat and a wise man eats to live. But then the question remains: for what purpose does the wise man live? Living is not an end by itself. There has to be a purpose for man to live for. So what is this purpose?
誰能翻譯一下下面的文字:
Where from? Where to? And Why?

Any ignorance, however great, could be forgiven except for man to be ignorant about the secret of his existence, his aim in life and what will be his outcome after death. Some thinkers express these questions in simple words: where from? Where to? And why? Meaning: where did I come from? Where am I going? And why am I here?

Those who only believe in the material world and who do not believe in a Creator- the atheists- only believe in sensory data. They say that this universe and everything in it came by itself. All its order is simply due to blind coincidence. They say that man is simply like an animal or a plant and that he will exist for a short period and then end like any other animal or plant.

An Arab Poet, Elya Abu Madhi (a born-Christian), not long ago expressed his uncertainty about the purpose of life in his Arabic poem Al-Talasim, meaning 「puzzles,」 which I have translated into English. He says in his poem:

I came not knowing from where, but I came.
And I saw a pathway in front of me, so I walked.
And I will remain walking, whether I want this or not.
How did I come? How did I see my pathway?
I do not know!
Am I new or am I old in this existence?
Am I free and unrestrained, or do I walk in chains?
Do I lead myself in my life, or am I being led?
I wish I know, but…
I do not know!
And my path, oh what is my path? Is it long or is it short?
Am I ascending in it, or am I going down and sinking?
Am I the one who is walking on the road,
or is it the road that is moving?
Or are we both standing, but it is the time that is running?
I do not know!
Before I became a full human, do you see
if I were nothing, impossible? Or do you see that I was something?
Is there an answer to this puzzle, or will it remain eternal?
I do not know ... and why do I not know??
I do not know!