英語翻譯不要直接google翻譯之類的.希望有外語系的人幫忙!翻譯的好的話追加100分!70年代末，一個「四人幫」幫派體

題目：

英語翻譯
不要直接google翻譯之類的.希望有外語系的人幫忙!翻譯的好的話追加100分!
70年代末，一個「四人幫」幫派體系的人物終於下台了。在清算這個以一言堂著稱的黨委書記的會上，有人嘀咕了一句：「依然他的劣跡昭著，當年和他同在台上的人怎麼直至今日才出來講話呢？」這話正好讓會議的主持人聽到了，他剛由黨委副書記升任書記。「誰在說話？」主持人厲聲喝道，「誰？有勇氣的站起來說嘛！」 整個會場鴉雀無聲。主持人重複問話，四周氣氛緊張，會議中人連喘氣都不敢大聲。少頃，主持人緩和了聲調說：「實話告訴大家，當年我跟在座諸位現在的感覺完全一樣。」

解答：

過了20年全職主婦的生活後,我下定決心：既然孩子們都長大了,我也需要做份兼職來打發時間.我決定去開校車.
查理開始坐我的車是在我兼職開車第四個年頭的九月份.他當時8歲,金髮,灰色的眼睛清澈透亮,他跟一羣孩子上了車.他們都有暑假故事和我分享.而查理卻對我視而不見.就連我問他名字時,他都沒有回答.
從那天起,查理就成了惹麻煩的傢伙.如果有人打架,我不用回頭就知道是誰挑起的.如果有人扔唾沫紙團,我能猜出罪魁禍首的名字.要是有女孩子哭了,很可能是因爲查理扯了她的頭髮.不管我怎樣跟他說話,溫和也好,嚴厲也罷,他就是一言不發,只是用他那雙灰色的大眼睛盯著我.
後來我打聽到,查理的父親去世了,他也沒和媽媽住在一起.我想,我應該對他耐心些.於是我便儘可能地拿出了所有的耐心.我愉快地跟他說「早上好」,回應我的卻是沉默.當我祝他萬聖節快樂時,他則報以冷笑.不知有多少次,我問自己怎樣才能打動查理.我得說,「我已經束手無策了」.但我依然確信這個孩子需要從我這裡感受到一些溫暖.所以,每次他經過時,我都會揉亂他的頭髮,或是拍拍他的胳膊.
那年年末,校車上的孩子們送給我一個小紀念品,上面刻著「獻給最棒的校車司機」幾個字.我把它架在儀錶板上.上面掛了一顆小錫心,是一個小女孩送給我的.她用紅筆寫道：「我愛波莉,波莉愛我.」
在學校放假的前兩天,我跟校長談話耽擱了幾分鐘.等上了校車,卻發現小錫心不見了.「有誰知道掛在這上面的小錫心哪兒去了嗎?」我問道.只有這一次,39個孩子全都沉默了.
一個男孩尖聲說,「查理第一個上的校車.我敢說是他拿的.」其他孩子也齊聲說道,「沒錯!是查理乾的!搜他的身!」
我問查理：「你見過那顆小錫心嗎?」「我不知道你在說什麼,」他抗議道.說著他站起來,從兜里掏出幾枚硬幣和一個小球,「看吧,我身上沒有那東西.」「我敢肯定就在他身上!」那個送我小錫心的女孩說,「檢查他的口袋」.
我讓查理走上前來,他怒目而視.他那凝視的目光深深地烙印在我的眼中.我把手伸到他的一隻口袋裡,什麼也沒有.然後我伸進另一隻口袋,摸到了它——那顆小錫心的熟悉輪廓.查理盯著我看了很長時間.那雙灰色的大眼睛裡沒有眼淚,也沒有對憐憫的乞求.他似乎正在等待著一個早已料到的結果.就在我要把小錫心從查理的口袋裡拿出來的時候,我停住了.讓他留著吧,一個聲音似乎在輕輕地說.
「一定是在我來這兒之前掉的,」我對孩子們說,「我或許能在車站把它找回來.」查理一言不發地回到了他的座位上.下車的時候,他甚至連看也沒看我一眼.那年夏天,查理搬走了……
後來我退休了,當校車司機的故事也隨之結束,直到後來又發生了一件事.退休12年後,在堪薩斯城的一家百貨商店裡,有人遲疑地叫我,「波莉?」我回過頭,看到一個已近中年、有些謝頂的男人.「你是?」.他的臉看起來並不眼熟,直到我注意到他那雙灰色的大眼睛.不用懷疑,他就是查理.
他告訴我,他現在住在蒙大拿州,過得很好.然後,讓我吃驚的是,他擁抱了我.放開我後,他從口袋裡拿出了一樣東西,舉起來讓我看.那是一個很舊的鑰匙鏈……已經彎曲變形,上邊的字也模糊褪色了.你可能已經猜到它是什麼了——就是那顆上面寫著「我愛波莉,波莉愛我」的小錫心.
「你是唯一一個沒有放棄我的人,」他解釋道.我們再次擁抱對方,然後各自分別了.我很高興自己做了這樣一件好事.
After 20 years as a full-time wife and mother, I decided now that my kids were grown, I needed a part-time job to keep me busy. I decided to drive a school bus.
Charlie began riding my bus in September of my fourth year driving. Eight years old, with blond hair and crystalline gray eyes, he got on with a group of children. They all had stories to tell me about their summers. Charlie, though, ignored me. He didn’t even answer when I asked his name.
From that day on, Charlie was a trial. If a fight broke out I didn’t have to turn my head to know who had started it. If someone was throwing spitballs I could guess the culprit’s name. If a girl was crying, chances were Charlie had pulled her hair. No matter how I spoke to him, gently or firmly, he wouldn’t say a word. He』d just stare at me with those big gray eyes of his.
I asked around some, and found out Charlie’s father was dead and he didn’t live with his mother. He deserves my patience, I thought. So I practiced every bit of patience I could muster. To my cheery 「Good morning,」 he was silent. When I wished him a happy Halloween, he sneered. Many, many times I asked myself how I could reach Charlie. 「I’m at my wit’s end,」 I』d say. Still I was sure that this child needed to feel some warmth from me. So, when he』d pass by, I』d ruffle his hair or pat him on the arm.
Toward the end of that year, the kids on my bus gave me a small trophy inscribed 「To the Best Bus Driver Ever」. I propped it up on the dashboard. On top I hung a small tin heart that a little girl had given me. In red paint she had written, 「I love Polly and Polly loves me.」
On the next-to-last day of school I was delayed a few minutes talking to the principal. When I got on the bus I realized that the tin heart was gone. 「Does anyone know what happened to the little heart that was up here?」 I asked. For once with 39 children, there was silence.
One boy piped up, 「Charlie was the first one on the bus. I bet he took it.」 Other children joined the chorus, 「Yeah! Charlie did it! Search him!」
I asked Charlie, 「Have you seen the heart?」 「I don’t know what you’re talking about,」 he protested. Standing up, he took a few pennies and a small ball out of his pockets. 「See, I don’t have it.」 「I bet he does!」 insisted the girl who had given me the heart. 「Check his pockets.」
Charlie glowered when I asked him to come forward. His gaze burned into mine. I stuck my hand into one pocket. Nothing. I reached into the other pocket. Then I felt it—the familiar outline of the small tin heart. Charlie stared at me for a long time. There were no tears in those big gray eyes, no plea for mercy. He seemed to be waiting for what he』d come to expect from the world. I was about to pull the tin heart out of Charlie’s pocket when I stopped myself. Let him keep it, a voice seemed to whisper.
「It must have fallen off before I got here,」 I said to the kids. 「I』ll probably find it back at the bus depot.」 Without a word, Charlie returned to his seat. When he got off at his stop, he didn’t so much as glance at me. That summer Charlie moved away...
Eventually I retired. And there my story as a school bus driver ends, except for one more incident. A dozen years after retirement I was in a department store in Kansas City, when someone said tentatively, 「Polly?」 I turned to see a balding man who was approaching middle age. 「Yes?」 His face didn’t look familiar until I noticed his big gray eyes. There was no doubt. It was Charlie.
He told me he was living in Montana and doing well. Then, to my surprise, he hugged me. After he let go, he pulled something from his pocket and held it up for me to see. An old key chain...bent out of shape, the lettering faded. You can probably guess what it was—the little tin heart that said, 「I love Polly and Polly loves me.」
「You were the only one who kept trying,」 he explained. We hugged again, and went our separate ways. I am so happy I』d done a good job.