After Twenty Years

The policeman on the beat moved up the avenue impressively. The impressiveness was habitual and not for show, for spectators were few. The time was barely 10 o’clock at night, but chilly gusts of wind with a taste of rain in them had well nigh de-peopled the streets.

TarjimaOʻz posti boʻylab ketayotgan politsiyachi shohkoʻcha boʻylab salobat bilan odimlab borardi. Bu salobat odatiy edi, koʻz-koʻz qilish uchun emas — tomoshabin deyarli yoʻq edi. Soat endigina tungi oʻn boʻlgan boʻlsa-da, yomgʻir hidi aralash esgan sovuq shamol zarbalari koʻchalarni deyarli huvillatib qoʻygan edi.

Trying doors as he went, twirling his club with many intricate and artful movements, turning now and then to cast his watchful eye adown the pacific thoroughfare, the officer, with his stalwart form and slight swagger, made a fine picture of a guardian of the peace. The vicinity was one that kept early hours. Now and then you might see the lights of a cigar store or of an all-night lunch counter; but the majority of the doors belonged to business places that had long since been closed.

TarjimaEshiklarni tortib koʻrib, tayogʻini turli murakkab va mohirona harakatlar bilan aylantirib, goh-goh tinch koʻcha boʻylab ogoh nigohini tashlab ketayotgan zobit, barvasta gavdasi va sal kerilgan yurishi bilan tinchlik posbonining ajoyib timsoli edi. Bu mahalla barvaqt uxlaydigan joy edi. Goh-goh tamaki doʻkoni yoki tun boʻyi ochiq turadigan oshxonaning chiroqlari koʻzga tashlanardi; ammo eshiklarning aksariyati anchadan beri yopilgan savdo joylariniki edi.

When about midway of a certain block the policeman suddenly slowed his walk. In the doorway of a darkened hardware store a man leaned, with an unlighted cigar in his mouth. As the policeman walked up to him the man spoke up quickly.

TarjimaQaysidir kvartalning oʻrtasiga yetganda politsiyachi birdan qadamini sekinlatdi. Chiroqlari oʻchgan xoʻjalik mollari doʻkonining eshigi oldida bir odam ogʻzida yoqilmagan sigara bilan suyanib turardi. Politsiyachi yoniga kelganda, u shoshilib gap boshladi.

“It’s all right, officer,” he said, reassuringly. “I’m just waiting for a friend. It’s an appointment made twenty years ago. Sounds a little funny to you, doesn’t it? Well, I’ll explain if you’d like to make certain it’s all straight. About that long ago there used to be a restaurant where this store stands—‘Big Joe’ Brady’s restaurant.”

Tarjima«Hammasi joyida, janob zobit», — dedi u ishontirgan ohangda. «Men shunchaki doʻstimni kutyapman. Yigirma yil oldin kelishilgan uchrashuv. Sizga biroz kulgili tuyuladi, shunday emasmi? Hammasi toʻgʻriligiga ishonch hosil qilmoqchi boʻlsangiz, tushuntirib beraman. Taxminan shuncha vaqt oldin hozir shu doʻkon turgan joyda restoran boʻlgan — „Big Joe“ Brady restorani.»

“Until five years ago,” said the policeman. “It was torn down then.”

Tarjima«Besh yil oldingacha», — dedi politsiyachi. «Keyin buzib tashlangan.»

The man in the doorway struck a match and lit his cigar. The light showed a pale, square-jawed face with keen eyes, and a little white scar near his right eyebrow. His scarfpin was a large diamond, oddly set.

TarjimaEshik oldidagi odam gugurt chaqib, sigarasini tutatdi. Alanga rangpar, toʻrtburchak jagʻli, oʻtkir koʻzli yuzni va oʻng qoshi yonidagi kichkina oq chandiqni yoritdi. Galstuk ignasi katta olmos edi, u gʻalati qilib oʻrnatilgan edi.

“Twenty years ago to-night,” said the man, “I dined here at ‘Big Joe’ Brady’s with Jimmy Wells, my best chum, and the finest chap in the world. He and I were raised here in New York, just like two brothers, together. I was eighteen and Jimmy was twenty. The next morning I was to start for the West to make my fortune. You couldn’t have dragged Jimmy out of New York; he thought it was the only place on earth. Well, we agreed that night that we would meet here again exactly twenty years from that date and time, no matter what our conditions might be or from what distance we might have to come. We figured that in twenty years each of us ought to have our destiny worked out and our fortunes made, whatever they were going to be.”

Tarjima«Bundan roppa-rosa yigirma yil oldin, xuddi shu oqshom», — dedi u, «men bu yerda, „Big Joe“ Brady restoranida, eng yaqin doʻstim Jimmy Wells bilan ovqatlandim — u dunyodagi eng yaxshi yigit edi. Biz ikkimiz ham shu yerda, Nyu-Yorkda, xuddi ikki aka-ukadek birga ulgʻayganmiz. Men oʻn sakkizda, Jimmy yigirmada edi. Ertasi ertalab men oʻz baxtimni izlab Gʻarbga joʻnashim kerak edi. Jimmyni Nyu-Yorkdan sudrab ham chiqarib boʻlmasdi; u bu shaharni yer yuzidagi yagona joy deb bilardi. Xullas, oʻsha kechasi biz roppa-rosa yigirma yildan keyin shu sanada va shu soatda yana shu yerda uchrashishga kelishdik — ahvolimiz qanday boʻlishidan, qancha uzoqdan kelishimizga toʻgʻri kelishidan qatʼi nazar. Yigirma yil ichida, qanday boʻlmasin, har birimiz taqdirimizni hal qilib, boyligimizni orttirib olgan boʻlamiz, deb hisobladik.»

“It sounds pretty interesting,” said the policeman. “Rather a long time between meets, though, it seems to me. Haven’t you heard from your friend since you left?”

Tarjima«Juda qiziq ekan», — dedi politsiyachi. «Uchrashuvlar orasi ancha uzoq-ku, menimcha. Ketganingizdan beri doʻstingizdan xabar olmadingizmi?»

“Well, yes, for a time we corresponded,” said the other. “But after a year or two we lost track of each other. You see, the West is a pretty big proposition, and I kept hustling around over it pretty lively. But I know Jimmy will meet me here if he’s alive, for he always was the truest, stanchest old chap in the world. He’ll never forget. I came a thousand miles to stand in this door to-night, and it’s worth it if my old partner turns up.”

Tarjima«Olganman, bir muddat xat yozishib turdik», — dedi u. «Lekin bir-ikki yildan keyin bir-birimizdan darak topolmay qoldik. Bilasizmi, Gʻarb juda katta joy, men esa uni toʻxtovsiz kezib yurdim. Lekin bilaman, Jimmy tirik boʻlsa, shu yerda men bilan uchrashadi, chunki u doim dunyodagi eng sodiq, eng ishonchli eski doʻst edi. U hech qachon unutmaydi. Bugun kechqurun shu eshik oldida turish uchun men ming mil yoʻl bosib keldim, eski sherigim chiqib kelsa, bunga arziydi.»

The waiting man pulled out a handsome watch, the lids of it set with small diamonds.

TarjimaKutib turgan odam chiroyli soatini chiqardi; uning qopqoqlariga mayda olmoslar qadalgan edi.

“Three minutes to ten,” he announced. “It was exactly ten o’clock when we parted here at the restaurant door.”

Tarjima«Oʻnga uch daqiqa bor», — deb eʼlon qildi u. «Restoran eshigi oldida xayrlashganimizda aynan soat oʻn edi.»

“Did pretty well out West, didn’t you?” asked the policeman.

Tarjima«Gʻarbda ancha yaxshi ishlab olibsiz-da, shunday emasmi?» — soʻradi politsiyachi.

“You bet! I hope Jimmy has done half as well. He was a kind of plodder, though, good fellow as he was. I’ve had to compete with some of the sharpest wits going to get my pile. A man gets in a groove in New York. It takes the West to put a razor-edge on him.”

Tarjima«Boʻlmasam-chi! Jimmy ham hech boʻlmasa mening yarmimcha yutuqqa erishgan boʻlsa edi. Yaxshi yigit edi-yu, lekin imillab, tirishib ishlaydiganlardan edi. Oʻz boyligimni yigʻish uchun men hozirgi eng oʻtkir aqlli odamlar bilan bellashishga majbur boʻldim. Nyu-Yorkda odam bir qolipga tushib qoladi. Uni ustaradek charxlash uchun Gʻarb kerak.»

The policeman twirled his club and took a step or two.

TarjimaPolitsiyachi tayogʻini aylantirib, bir-ikki qadam tashladi.

“I’ll be on my way. Hope your friend comes around all right. Going to call time on him sharp?”

Tarjima«Xoʻp, men boraqolay. Doʻstingiz omon-eson kelib qolsin. Belgilangan vaqt oʻtishi bilan ketaverasizmi?»

“I should say not!” said the other. “I’ll give him half an hour at least. If Jimmy is alive on earth he’ll be here by that time. So long, officer.”

Tarjima«Yoʻq, nima deyapsiz!» — dedi u. «Unga kamida yarim soat beraman. Jimmy yer yuzida tirik boʻlsa, shu vaqtgacha keladi. Xayr, janob zobit.»

“Good-night, sir,” said the policeman, passing on along his beat, trying doors as he went.

Tarjima«Xayrli tun, janob», — dedi politsiyachi va eshiklarni tortib koʻrib, posti boʻylab davom etdi.

There was now a fine, cold drizzle falling, and the wind had risen from its uncertain puffs into a steady blow. The few foot passengers astir in that quarter hurried dismally and silently along with coat collars turned high and pocketed hands. And in the door of the hardware store the man who had come a thousand miles to fill an appointment, uncertain almost to absurdity, with the friend of his youth, smoked his cigar and waited.

TarjimaEndi mayda, sovuq yomgʻir yogʻardi, shamol ham endi goh-goh boʻlib esmay, tinmay esardi. Mahallada yurgan bir-ikki piyoda yoqalarini baland koʻtarib, qoʻllarini choʻntagiga solgancha maʼyus va indamay shoshilardi. Xoʻjalik mollari doʻkonining eshigi oldida esa yoshlikdagi doʻsti bilan deyarli bemaʼnilik darajasida noaniq uchrashuv uchun ming mil yoʻl bosib kelgan odam sigarasini chekib kutardi.

About twenty minutes he waited, and then a tall man in a long overcoat, with collar turned up to his ears, hurried across from the opposite side of the street. He went directly to the waiting man.

TarjimaYigirma daqiqacha kutdi, shunda uzun paltoli, yoqasini quloqlarigacha koʻtargan baland boʻyli bir odam koʻchaning narigi tomonidan shoshilib oʻtdi. U toʻgʻri kutib turgan odamning oldiga bordi.

“Is that you, Bob?” he asked, doubtfully.

Tarjima«Bob, senmisan?» — soʻradi u ikkilanib.

“Is that you, Jimmy Wells?” cried the man in the door.

Tarjima«Jimmy Wells, senmisan?» — qichqirdi eshik oldidagi odam.

“Bless my heart!” exclaimed the new arrival, grasping both the other’s hands with his own. “It’s Bob, sure as fate. I was certain I’d find you here if you were still in existence. Well, well, well! —twenty years is a long time. The old restaurant’s gone, Bob; I wish it had lasted, so we could have had another dinner there. How has the West treated you, old man?”

Tarjima«Voy, tavba!» — deb yubordi yangi kelgan, uning ikkala qoʻlini oʻz qoʻllari bilan mahkam siqib. «Bu Bob-ku, shak-shubhasiz. Tirik boʻlsang, seni shu yerda topaman, deb aniq bilardim. Voy-voy-voy! — yigirma yil katta muddat. Eski restoran yoʻq, Bob; qani edi, saqlanib qolgan boʻlsa, yana shu yerda kechki ovqat qilardik. Xoʻsh, Gʻarbda ishlaring qalay boʻldi, oshna?»

“Bully; it has given me everything I asked it for. You’ve changed lots, Jimmy. I never thought you were so tall by two or three inches.”

Tarjima«Ajoyib; men undan nima soʻragan boʻlsam, hammasini berdi. Sen ancha oʻzgarib ketibsan, Jimmy. Boʻying men oʻylagandan ikki-uch dyuym baland ekan.»

“Oh, I grew a bit after I was twenty.”

Tarjima«Ha, yigirma yoshdan keyin sal oʻsdim.»

“Doing well in New York, Jimmy?”

Tarjima«Nyu-Yorkda ishlaring yaxshimi, Jimmy?»

“Moderately. I have a position in one of the city departments. Come on, Bob; we’ll go around to a place I know of, and have a good long talk about old times.”

Tarjima«Oʻrtacha. Shahar idoralaridan birida lavozimim bor. Yur, Bob; men bilgan joyga boramiz, eski kunlar haqida uzoq-uzoq gaplashib olamiz.»

The two men started up the street, arm in arm. The man from the West, his egotism enlarged by success, was beginning to outline the history of his career. The other, submerged in his overcoat, listened with interest.

TarjimaIkki kishi qoʻltiqlashib koʻcha boʻylab yurib ketishdi. Gʻarbdan kelgan odam, muvaffaqiyatidan kibri oshib, oʻz hayot yoʻlini hikoya qila boshladi. Ikkinchisi paltosiga burkanib, qiziqish bilan tinglardi.

At the corner stood a drug store, brilliant with electric lights. When they came into this glare each of them turned simultaneously to gaze upon the other’s face.

TarjimaBurchakda elektr chiroqlari charaqlab turgan dorixona bor edi. Ular bu yorugʻlikka chiqqanda, ikkalasi ham bir vaqtning oʻzida bir-birining yuziga qaradi.

The man from the West stopped suddenly and released his arm.

TarjimaGʻarbdan kelgan odam birdan toʻxtab, qoʻlini tortib oldi.

“You’re not Jimmy Wells,” he snapped. “Twenty years is a long time, but not long enough to change a man’s nose from a Roman to a pug.”

Tarjima«Sen Jimmy Wells emassan», — dedi u keskin. «Yigirma yil katta muddat, lekin odamning burnini qirra burundan puchuq burunga aylantirishga yetmaydi.»

“It sometimes changes a good man into a bad one,” said the tall man. “You’ve been under arrest for ten minutes, ‘Silky’ Bob. Chicago thinks you may have dropped over our way and wires us she wants to have a chat with you. Going quietly, are you? That’s sensible. Now, before we go on to the station here’s a note I was asked to hand you. You may read it here at the window. It’s from Patrolman Wells.”

Tarjima«Baʼzan yaxshi odamni yomonga aylantiradi», — dedi baland boʻyli odam. «Siz oʻn daqiqadan beri hibsdasiz, „Silky“ Bob. Chikago sizni bizning tomonlarga kelib qolgan boʻlishi mumkin, deb oʻylaydi va siz bilan gaplashib olmoqchi ekanini telegramma orqali bildirdi. Tinchgina ketasizmi? Aqlli qaror. Endi, boʻlimga borishdan oldin, sizga topshirishim soʻralgan bir xat bor. Uni mana shu deraza oldida oʻqishingiz mumkin. Bu patrulchi Wellsdan.»

The man from the West unfolded the little piece of paper handed him. His hand was steady when he began to read, but it trembled a little by the time he had finished. The note was rather short.

TarjimaGʻarbdan kelgan odam unga uzatilgan kichkina qogʻozni ochdi. U oʻqishni boshlaganda qoʻli qaltiramasdi, lekin tugatganda biroz titray boshladi. Xat ancha qisqa edi.

Bob: I was at the appointed place on time. When you struck the match to light your cigar I saw it was the face of the man wanted in Chicago. Somehow I couldn’t do it myself, so I went around and got a plain clothes man to do the job.

TarjimaBob: Men belgilangan joyda aniq vaqtida edim. Sen sigarangni tutatish uchun gugurt chaqqanda, bu Chikagoda qidirilayotgan odamning yuzi ekanini koʻrdim. Negadir buni oʻzim qila olmadim, shuning uchun aylanib borib, bu ishni bajarish uchun fuqarocha kiyingan xodimni olib keldim.

JIMMY.

TarjimaJIMMY.