我过世前几个月，爸爸看着我正是这样呼呼大睡，只是当时我床上多了巴克利，巴克利穿着睡衣，抱着小熊，背对着我窝成一团，半睡半醒地吮着大拇指。
A few months before I died, he had found me like this, but 28 tucked inside my sheets with me was Buckley, in his 29 pajamas, with his bear, curled up against my back, sucking sleepily on his thumb.
一辆轿车驶过，司机和乘客都盯着我这个疯了似的、穿戴整齐的外国人在暴雨中倒着行走，还向我伸出大拇指。
A sedan goes by, driver and passenger staring at the mad, well-dressed foreigner walking backward and holding his thumb out in the downpour.
这时，竖起大拇指就意味着那个角斗士不会被胜者杀死。
The thumbs up meant that the warrior wouldn't be killed by the winner.
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