Chapter 23 Looking at the sea in the secret room

sisters Can people born at the same time understand a landscape at the same time? On the connecting night between late spring and early summer, time is like a snail crawling in the air, silent and slow, with transparent saliva flowing, she sits on the bed with her knees hugged, her head resting on her knees, like a stubborn stone left over from the prehistoric era, resisting being The wind and rain pulverized to reveal a slight anxiety.At this moment, her eyes drifted outwards through the dusty glass windows. First of all, there was a thin fragrant tree, which used itself as a feast for insects and ants. Behind the tree was a concrete wall with glass slices inserted upside down to prevent burglars or snake.After she learned to use her thoughts to penetrate the darkness and wander the distant scenery, the glass wall has a broken beauty instead. She often stays on it deliberately, imagining the bloody convulsion when the jagged glass tip scratches across the bottom of her feet.

A few steps outside the wall, the wasteland is lively, no matter how prosperous the city is, there will always be corners of paralysis.As long as someone hugs the TV and imitates the tone of the prophet and points out: "This is the holy land of the freaks!" That place will pour into the disabled and freaks like a demon.Abandoned refrigerators, hunched-back sofas, blood-stained motorcycles, low tide clothes, or spring cushions that end the relationship between beds are like epidemics. Suddenly, so many people find that life is full of discarded things, and there is no room for leftovers and defeated soldiers.Sitting on her own bed, she eavesdropped on the meaning of "discard" countless times from the whistling and continuing voices, slight or bulky, unable to escape her hearing.She knew the feeling of abandonment would breed, and that holy place would eventually build the kingdom of the broken.The wounded soldiers on the battlefield in these times are regurgitating the glory of the past under the vast grass and secreting the loneliness that cannot be disintegrated. At this moment, she does not need to borrow the senses, she can smell the cats that float from the abandoned kingdom, and hear the counting of the ruined. The exhausted colors and surviving limbs, muttering to themselves in the dark night.

At that time, she thought, the Black Sea, where the corpses of memories floated.The never-ending waves roared, over the bushes, the walls, directly through the glass windows and poured into her room, turning around and sweeping away the room like a tornado, as if her secret room was an abomination to a big house. The sarcomas, superfluous, ugly, and the tide will carry it back to the sanctuary of monstrous zero.She can't eradicate this kind of delusion, the feeling of being abandoned will not hurt after repeated practice, but the limbs are covered with fang-like daggers, and when she hugs herself, she can hear the sound of metal and bones.

Someone opened the door, the key was thrown like a pan, and then there was a crackling, and all the lights came on.This woman once said that the switch is the button of the house, and only ghosts are afraid of being naked, and the house that people live in must be lit, and all the buttons must be peeled off.She felt safe, and eventually she would go into this room and turn on the light, which was her daily anti-home ritual.She knew she had a grudge against Hei. "Didn't you promise me to turn on the light?" She took off her earrings, turned around and even switched on the table lamp: "It's so dark, it's not a grave."

"Where are you going? It's so late." "You care." She stripped off accessories and clothes along the way, and let go of her hands, recording the animal-like path.Clothes are a woman's war preparation, just like cosmetics and perfumes preserve the tradition of hunting spirits in the witchcraft era. A girl wearing a hunting suit, slanting her bow and arrows, and covering her arms with red ointment to disguise her wounds is no longer a girl. She has captured the spirit of the hunter. Immediately possesses brave energy, and can jump into the ghostly forest to hunt wild boars at any time.She believes in these, clothing awakens the potential of hibernation in women, builds traps, creates situations, and conquers tendencies rather than begging to please.Her battle theory does not require a large wardrobe to properly take care of the wounded like a military hospital, where the clothes are kept to keep the flames of the last battle; there is a K gold pierced earring next to the gas stove, and the other may be washed in the bathroom In the mouth cup, living on the battlefield of last resort, the flesh and blood have to be separated.She is like a warrior who dies once a day, and when she wakes up the next day, she is fully equipped with necklaces, hair accessories, belts, rings, or the nervous fragrance of a famous Paris brand, and she is a green self again, full of life.Do people need memory?Memory is the storage room for all pain. Her classification is very simple, throwable and non-throwable memories. However, because they die once a day, the non-throwable memories gradually become blurred during the copying process.

By the time she got to her room, she was almost naked.Dressing mirrors reflect a young and plump body. For a woman, staring at her naked body is like flipping through a diary, watching how time, a fast horse, calls mountains and steps down into rivers, forming a mysterious and splendid jungle world.The mirror surface is like fog, and in the shattered light and shadow, her face has an unruly wildness, and she can live out her shape even when the sky falls.From the mirror, with a black frame added, the face that resembles her can almost be used as a photo of the drowned person. "What's the matter?" She was impatient.

"Where do you go after get off work? Why is it so late?" She felt her body bursting into flames, as if the flames were surrounding her heart, she turned around and pushed her onto the bed: "You have no right to control me, you are not a mother, you have to say it hundreds of times before you understand, you are you, I am me, each Do you live in different ways? Why...why..." She choked when she was in a hurry, as if she could cough up a bucket of fish.She clapped her hands for her, the sweat mixed with fine dust from her bare back exuded the smell of a woman's body, like the smell of green grass after a thunderstorm in a hot summer. Know exactly where you are, without getting lost or panicking.She handed her water and said in a low voice, "I'm sorry... I won't ask in the future."

Walking out of the room, I collected the corsets, skirts, belts, shirts, and stockings all the way, and put them on the back of the sofa. This is also a ritual every night. I put the complete sister away with my own hands, and then I went back to my room and lay down in a bed facing the wall. Zhang Gong.There is a clock on the wall, and the pins move, like two skinny men going from hell to heaven together, just passing through the world. Someone turns on the light. "Sister..." She climbed onto her bed and hugged her from behind: "I miss mom..." "what time is it?"

"Ten past two." Her eyes wandered to the wall.The house is damp, the ceiling and walls are cancerous, and the white powder hangs there like a honeycomb. Every once in a while, my sister stabs it with a broom, and she refuses to change the room. My sister likes to put memories on the wall, such as air ticket stubs, philosopher's proverbs, pictures of insects cut out from nowhere, collaged and pasted to form a timeless world.She has always been unable to get rid of the problem of buying photo frames, as if something is immortal when framed, and she really has the ability to collect so many frames of different materials and shapes.The family photos that occupy half of the wall look like mass graves after being framed. The large and small ones are quite bustling with ethnic diversity. In fact, they are just three figures playing different roles on the stage of time.When the mother wearing the red straw hat was young, the mother's bare footprints on the summer beach were hung by the mother when she was alive.She breathed her last in this room, and her last words were like dry grass on the surface of a thunderstorm lake, floating and sinking.She thought that this house was particularly trendy because of her mother. Some women refused to bow their heads and shed tears when they were alive, but they would return to the place of attachment after death to return their tears.After my sister moved into this room, those photos seemed to reproduce, from the baby photo of the two sisters squeezed in the bathtub, to the photo of a sixth birthday wearing a sailor suit and holding roses in a lace dress... There is also a large team of people in the photo studio.In this life, the one who wants the most photos from her is my sister, the student ID card of Girls' Generation, and the outing photos after leaving society. She cuts the head neatly like a baby, and puts her own photo on it, writes the date and frames it together Son, it's not difficult. The advantage of twins is that the time scale is the same, just take the other's age.She once scolded her sister: "There is something wrong! Don't you feel bored?" The sister looked at her with innocent eyes: "Why? Show mom!" No, why do you need photos? My sister’s reason is that there is no time in another world, “Mom remembers us when we were eighteen years old, and I had to let Mom see the photos, so she knew that there were two 30-year-olds lying on the bed. The woman, really, is her daughter."

It's nonsense, she thought, if my sister didn't nail another wall, she would hang it densely on the side next to the bed, as if she was afraid that the wall would be disconnected from the house, so she had to use steel nails to impress her heart.Perhaps, it is also for the purpose of not drifting to a strange place and getting lost in sleep. "If mom doesn't become a mother, I don't know what will happen?" She found a derailed line on her sister's neckline, bit it off, carried it to her arm, and rubbed it into small lumps with her fingers: "Mom, it seems that something is wrong." It can be made into a story. Do you remember the time when she bought two fish, one called your name and the other mine, and asked us to close our eyes and start touching the tail of the fish, she said that this one was changed from a bird? It's like a sinking ship, I really hate the feeling of the fish, it's wet and sticky..."

"You cried before touching the fish head." She flicked the little lump into the air, and put her arms around her sister again: "Yeah, it's so embarrassing. I remember my mother said that if you touch it until the end, you can touch the fish..." "Tears." sister Mom called her name to the sea, it was a dark night, she remembered. The continuous torrential rain made the wild ferns on the low wall rampant. Their growth was close to provocation, and they had to chew up a whole row of broken glass and spit it into the sky before they were willing.All day long, she sat in front of the window and sketched, and the fern leaves under her pen were like feathers soaked in water, without the slightest wildness.Dusk came, shadows shrouded the tangled lines on the white paper, no matter how involved the strokes were, there was no exit, just like her life. After leaving the job for half a year, my younger sister was staring at me, so I managed to flip through a few personnel advertisements in the newspaper circle and make a phone call. I was looking for people everywhere, but there was no shortage of people.She thought, in the eyes of others, she is just a decoration on the Christmas tree, one more will not feel dazzling, and one less will not damage the joy of the festival.Years of experience in the workplace have constantly reminded her of her status as a "paperclip character". No matter what color the bag is on, a tall S will become a paperclip that can't bite after being humbled.She remembered that incident. She clearly used paper clips to pin the important documents together on the supervisor's desk, and lost one. When she finally found the document covered with leather shoe prints from under the desk, her supervisor was like a bundle of explosives. Pick up the stapler and demonstrate how to staple a few pieces of paper in front of her, and then ask her to retype a clean copy and hand it in before get off work.She attached her resignation, paperclipped to the important document she had stapled in a row of dotted lines at the top and bottom. Always aim.Paperclips like hers are everywhere in the jungle-like office ecology, and there are countless numbers on the ground and in the trash can.Consolation and farewell meals would have been contrived and a waste of time, especially since no one thought to do them for her.She has never tidied up anything, and there is no need to hand it over. Her job content is in the human resources management file. For the next paper clip, just enter the department name and her code name, and the computer will tell her all the job content.She understands that no one will build an exclusive nest in the precious memory area to keep her. She is like the needle-point reflection of the west slanting sun shining on the eyes of a homeless man who has just cried, so slight and weightless.Stepping out of the glass curtain building, the wind blows in the cold rainy sky, the passerby and the wind are twins, from the uninhabited post station to the port with dense ships, such a life. Perhaps, only the mother builds a warm nest for their sisters in the sea of ​​dangerous waves and turmoil, weaving it with the soft herbs in spring and the feathers of migratory birds; It is difficult for the sea to find land.When she and her younger sister were sleeping soundly like young chicks sniffing the fragrance of grass, they couldn't imagine whether their mother, who was always as bright as a star and moon, was caught by an evil water ghost on the ankle while swimming and had the idea of ​​destroying the sea. . In the photo, the mother wearing the red straw hat originally had a pair of shrewd eyes, but maybe it was due to the light, but it looked like the early fog in the fishing port; the straw hat was too big, and she looked like a wine-red cosmos about to fly.She calculated that she was pregnant when this photo was taken, and the brother in her belly—she can admit him calmly now, and I am afraid that she would not be able to predict that seven years later, due to her own sudden death, her mother would be divorced for the first time, carrying a broken suitcase Leave food?Boring countryside.In my impression, I have never seen that red straw hat.In those days, a woman who dared to wear a red straw hat and ride a mini-bike to the town to watch literary and romantic movies would not be rewarded as a "good woman" in the neighborhood.My mother is the kind of person who crosses mountains and builds bridges. The day she ran away from home——she intuitively thought it was a summer of cicadas, walking through the country roads surrounded by bamboo trees, letting the sun cast shadows on her body. Mom, what is thinking in her mind is definitely not a red straw hat or the facial expression of a divorced woman. She believes that a mother who is good at making up stories and peeling off expired emotions, throws away the memories all the way, and finally peels herself into a piece of mask Smiling ice. The first time I saw the violence of my mother's stripping memory was about six years old.In the middle of the night, she and her sister were awakened by the sound of a heavy object hitting the ground. They live in a high-end area, living on the second floor, and downstairs is a boutique opened by their mother, with clothing and exquisite products.In the Xinxing commercial town by the sea, no one knows how to love women's infatuation and dreams better than her mother. She ingeniously arranged a photo area in the store, so that female customers who put on fashionable clothes can enjoy their own pictures for free. My mother loves them almost Indulgence, you don't need to buy light to take pictures.The background is nothing more than two fake coconut trees, a blue ocean canvas and a beach chair, which is a very simple tropical style.Mom moved forward and backward to choose the angle, coaxing them to go back to the happiest time to find that smile: mysterious, shy, or a touch of wildness that has never been shown in front of a man.The female customer bought the clothes, and asked whether the photos were washed out every three days or not?You have to wait for the photos to be developed before they can be washed. They are as anxious as children, pretending to be calm in their mouths, carrying food baskets every day, bringing their children to chat in the store, chatting for a long time is not new, and they simply warm up to help attract business, They each encouraged their sisters to come to Taotao to buy, and the business in the store was unbelievably good.My mother said that no matter how ordinary a woman is, she needs to be loved, or else she will be ruined. That night, she and her younger sister hid at the stairs, and the voice of "Dingduo" came from the photo area, but she didn't see "Dad" who had been back from the boat for a few days—she still couldn't get rid of the time when she said these two words. The resulting tsunami-like tinnitus.The younger sister was bold, stepped on the clothes all over the floor, and stood behind her mother and shouted at the overturned cabinets.As she hugged the railing, she could smell the smell of wine in the air, and the smell of corpses from the man's mouth; looking down from the gap in the railing, she saw that the two false trees had been pushed to the ground, and her mother was chopping them into large pieces with a kitchen knife. Duan, the back undulates like a leopard running.The younger sister called again, suddenly the world was silent, and the silence like a lead mine pressed on her mother's back. She gently put down the knife, stood up slowly, brushed her hair, turned around, and smiled in the halo of yellow light. , picked up her younger sister, and asked in their familiar, honey-soaked violin-like voice: "Why haven't you slept yet? My little bug!" Then, the mother looked up at her, the shimmering light , her eyes were like a meteor butterfly jumping out of a waterfall, with watery obsession and temptation, she was awed. "Hey, little lover, come down and give mommy a hug!" She completely forgot the panic before that moment, her mom was still the one who liked to act like a spoiled child to them, always exuding a musky scent that made people yearn for, guiding them through fear and homelessness. into her arms.That night, my mother said let's go for a walk by the beach, a big bad bug and two little bad bugs. Broken stars and crescent moons, wandering clouds, she only remembered these, and the rest was the boundless darkness covering the land and sea.This place is no stranger, my mother once took them to a picnic, imagining the scene of my father's boat suddenly jumping out of the sea.That camera recorded the happiest childhood years of their sisters under the bright sunshine, and also preserved a footprint like a mother whose heads shared a body with several women.Many years later, relying on the photo of her footprints, she returned to the beach scene countless times to pick up her mother's happy time. She believed that for the three of them, the future wandering was the curse of fate for that time. That night, she heard the night sea roar like a thousand lions, threatening, scorning, baring their fangs to mock the tiny prey.Mother hugged her younger sister who was sleeping halfway, and led her to the beach with one hand.She murmured and called in a low voice—Mom—as if it was another irrelevant woman who was leading her. She couldn't bear the hand being held too tightly, and tried to break free, but her mother walked away more and more urgently.The entire night sea is like a huge magnetic field, calling back the stray mineral sand in all directions. The clouds are still flowing, quietly covering the crescent moon in the sky, and the tide is churning forever, just asking about the worldly affairs.She now recalls that she tried her best to hold her mother not because of pain but because she could not bear the fear. She was only six years old, but she was enough to distinguish the difference between sunlight and dark night, and to receive the code transmitted to her by her mother through strong gestures.Although Mom often does surprises, she believes that night's trip to the beach has nothing to do with walking. Just when she refused to go any further, her mother let go, put her sister down, and walked a few steps towards the vast dark sea alone, the sound of the waves was like thunder.For the first time, she heard her mother call her nickname to the ocean: Shasha——shasha—sha——sha, come back!That's what mom yelled.Like a big tree in the field calling its beloved leaf, a banyan tree leaf followed the wrong path and went to the apple tree, so I had to use the sound of the wind to call it back.She stood behind her mother and pulled her clothes to respond, but the sobbing mother stopped her as if afraid of disturbing her: "Shh, don't make noise! ​​Don't make noise!" Sea breeze, thin salt.She began to feel that a hungry lion rushed out of the fairy tale book and came quietly with the sea breeze, cracked her chest with its sharp claws, took out its fresh heart, and sucked the virgin's blood.She was no longer frightened, the night made her climb, circle, look down, beyond the sight of a six-year-old, to see the messy landscape of the adult world; The dizzy roar of the sea finally vividly remembers the situation of a young woman and her twin daughters who were thrown on the black beach by an unknown force.Later, she vaguely understood that what happened next was that she herself touched the key of fate, so she couldn't get out of the dark sea all her life, and was destined to look up at the starry sky of eternal night alone.She remembered that she hugged her younger sister who had just woken up, and the rough sand hurt her feet. While rubbing her feet, she looked solemnly at the frustrated woman who fell ten steps away on the beach, and understood that what she called just now was A person with her name, that's another story, another shipwreck related to the storm.Confused by the sense of distance, she couldn't be sure of her relationship with the young woman in front of her. In fact, she couldn't even be sure of what she was, but with the courage that a child had—it seemed that she could be with her. With the courage of all evil spirits to confront each other, he walked up to her, put his arms around her neck and said, "Mom, don't be afraid, I'm here!" On the second day, my mother was still the proprietress who liked to wear fashionable dresses and eat candied fruit. It only took an afternoon for regular customers to take away the store's inventory as gifts and to entrust agents to sell real estate.Half a street of women fell into the mood of reluctance and blessings following their mother's command, and some even shed tears, but they all agreed that a man who has been away on a boat for many years is not like a family, and it is a happy event to make up his mind to return to land for reunion .They raced to pick out free gifts, didn't bother to ask for details, didn't even question why they moved so far away.In the end, the sound of congratulations and thanks made everyone forget that "farewell" was as entangled as a funeral.Mom happily ate her candied fruit. In another bustling city, there was a new version of his life experience. Gradually, people knew that the proprietress of this coffee shop, which had not opened long ago and was doing well, was a widow who brought her twin daughters here to make a living. Her husband died in a shipwreck. The last time I saw my dad—literally, seeing his back—was a few months after the cafe opened.She and her younger sister came back from the piano teacher's house in the next alley, and played boxing games all the way, and the loser had to back the opponent ten steps.The younger sister has sharp eyes, and saw a man coming out of the house from afar, striding forward, the younger sister chased after him and shouted, but he didn't hear him, so he hailed a taxi and disappeared without a trace. There is nothing unusual in the house, and the air is full of mother's fragrance.The younger sister is easy to satisfy, even if it is a loophole answer.And she looked at her mother's face, trying to read the clues. Her mother understood her, and pulled her into her arms, kissed her little ear, and whispered: "If you don't understand, put it in your pocket. If the left side is full, put it in the right side. Wait for a long time." Let me take it out and read it again, and I will understand immediately." Then he sighed, like a hard-working housewife complaining about back pain.Before she could figure it out, her mother made a jingling voice to urge them to take a bath. Today is a big day, and there are two little bugs who want to eat birthday cake. It was the six-year-old birthday, and it was held in the coffee shop. Flowers, cakes, and gifts were piled up to create a feast atmosphere, and the joy that never faded was reasonably clamored.Mom dressed her younger sister up as a little princess in a pink lace dress, and she wore a slightly too-big blue sailor suit with a tie hanging down like a squid's tongue.The mixed smell of moth balls and musk essence on the clothes made her very uncomfortable. "Want to love each other forever? Hook your little finger with mom!" When she and her sister faced the camera and showed a toothless smile under the booing of everyone, her mother pressed the shutter, and the spotlight flashed, and that moment was forever left. Shasha-sha-sha-sha-a lonely big tree in the field shouted, and my mother finally called back the lost leaf. sister She suspects that her choking tendency and recent itchy skin problems have something to do with this damp old house. That really makes sense, as if there is a faucet above the throat, dripping and leaking, and it slips into the trachea when breathing and swallowing are handed over at every turn.She once followed the advice of experts and concentrated on training breathing and swallowing movements.The ridiculous thing is that once this innate instinct is practiced persistently, it will cause chaos.She tried not to let herself be in a state of irritability and anger. For this reason, she also went to qigong classes and meditation camps to learn the way of relaxation and self-forgetfulness, which seemed to be effective but not effective.Recently came a new show, itching all over my body without thinking, like the previous owner sneaked back to search for something in the middle of the night, because I am not a thief, so it is not the kind of opening a big cloth bag to search, but chewing Bubble Gum, strolled to the bedroom, took a look twice, and then went into the living room to open the cupboard, looking for her old things while admiring the new owner's decorations, just like the itchy way of patrolling three bedrooms, two halls and two guards, Her fingers with three kinds of nail polish are also very busy, digging Haagen Dazs ice cream for a while, and scratching the inner thighs, elbows, shoulder blades, and back following the pace of the rascal, looking very obscene. Once, she was so annoyed that she lost her temper, threw the house magazine she was reading towards the French window, rushed into the bathroom and filled it with hot water, and submerged herself in the bathtub.No one with a conscience would use scalding hot water to deal with her body. She screamed from the heat, and tears rolled out. She gritted her teeth and continued to rinse with the shower head.The hot smoke made the bathroom completely white, and she seemed to be standing in the boundless torture place to bear the eternal whipping alone. My sister knocked on the door and asked her what's wrong?She clenched her teeth tightly, because the voice suddenly returned to her senses, and the anger found a shelter, "Get away from me!" she roared.A body was reddened and swollen with heat, and gradually swelled as if it was about to burst through the bathroom wall. It was strange that it felt light, and the itching disappeared, replaced by the stings of billions of bees that had been simmering over the fire.It's like a tomato in boiling water peeling off its skin automatically. When you peel it off gently, the whole skin will spin up, revealing the bright red flesh.Her love and hatred were far from enough, she rushed into the bedroom dripping with water, and took a whole bottle of alcohol-containing astringent water and smeared it on her body, like an ice corpse.When she was dizzy and fell on the bed, she finally felt that this body was not the same as before. There was a smile on the corner of her mouth, and tears slowly overflowed. She knew that these tears had traveled a long distance since childhood until now they reached Haikou. So salty is like the salt of ancient times. She always felt that her rebellious period came very early, which was related to her mother. There is a tall and beautiful mother who admits that she has brought her glory since she was a child—it should be said that she and her sister who is five minutes and thirty seconds older than her are extremely honored.Wherever they went, they were surrounded by a group of ignorant men and women who chirped like sparrows. They compared their height, weight, eyelashes, ear shape, hair thickness, finger length, palm lines... while making vulgar words. Finally, without exception, they praised their mother's fertility skills, as if they were just cute little dolls made by their mother.She used to use "we" since she was a child, and said to her mother, teacher, and Obasan who cooks: "We are hungry, and our knees are broken... She remembers dreaming that she wet the bed once, and woke her mother up in the middle of the night: "We pee on the bed! "Identical twins are a difficult experiment. After passing through the childhood stage that everyone regards as angel dolls, they begin to enter the destiny exercises; rummaging through the grass and gravel to find the trace of "I", and identifying it from the dusty mirror" The face of "I" is the existence of "I" pieced together from the eyes of others. She has to admit that there are so many potholes on this road, not only that others always misidentify them and call them by wrong names. When she finally temporarily forgets her sister, When secretly wanting to do something like a unique person, she finds that her sister happens to be there too. She hates this kind of sympathy. If my sister is a believer in her mother, then she is a rebellious woman. My sister walks along the path pointed by her mother, she would rather In the opposite direction, even if you have to wade through the swamp. I discovered very early on that my mother looked at her with probes, quietly detecting how many of her minds are there? She is good at disguising, or she fully develops her mother Art deco from there, when mother conjures beautiful stories, the latest version of her life experience from her black hat to satisfy the hungry crowd, she also instinctively hides in a deep sleep, under the watchful breath of her mother Next, play child snoring. She believed everything her mother said, no, she tried to convince her that she never questioned the stories she told.However, the camouflaged fruit tree does not mean that it can also bear fruit in autumn. She had to uncover two sets of memory curtains in advance to make a choice, one is her mother's version, and the other is her snooping. She never told her sister the pain of carrying two sets of memories. In fact, because of the pain, she finally felt different from her sister, and instead had the intention of brewing it privately.When she was very young, she was vigilantly aware that there was a ghost boy in the home arranged by her mother. He—then she knew it was an elder brother. The shadow is on a little boy who follows his mother to the store to buy clothes, sometimes simply curled up in his mother's eyes, facing a distant and empty place. She is not interested in asking his story, one is that she lacks quality and patience, and the other is that she is used to imagining him flying out of the window like the wind passing by the wind chime.If it wasn't for that night of breaking up, she wouldn't have been aware that the ghost brother not only sailed with them on the same boat, but also pierced the family puzzle of four of them with only one little finger. The sister never knew that it was the captain's father who abandoned them.When a sailor who has been on the sea for many years plays happily under the steps of the goddess of the country, he suddenly doubts the chastity of his wife and the blood relationship of his two daughters as if he has received some inspiration.There's no reason for that, but it's normal.Or, no abandonment, if the truth was on her side.Anyway, Mama was a proud storyteller, and managed to shipwreck her second husband. When she lifted the veil and looked at two sets of memories, she seemed to be trembling alone in a dark night cemetery; one set was like a skeleton wearing an embroidered suit and wearing flowers, with carrion still sticking to the thin bones, and the other was a naked female prisoner, who was maliciously murdered. Driven by her own strength, she crawled among the filth and the beasts, looking for a lover who could help her unshackle her. She wanted to hate her mother, and stabbed with a dagger, but pity was stabbed. Perhaps, the turning point was accidentally discovered in the process of confrontation between hate and pity.She gradually opened up a distance to watch her mother's transformation—she thought that at that time, she and her mother were probably lying on the ground at the same time looking for the key to unlock and the other to find the exit, so they only exchanged eyes without exchanging words tacitly.The older sister, who didn't understand, thought it was a cold war, and tried to persuade her to reconcile with her mother several times. From a distance, she privately tracked her mother's emotional voyage, sniffed the masculine scent in the air with her flaring nostrils, and guessed the speed of the body's entanglement from her mother's tired eyes; sometimes, she sneaked into her mother's bedroom secretly, from Among the various imprints looming on the vanity mirror, the mother's snake-like figure and her lonely state of mind wanting to hit a cliff during the cloudy and rainy voyage.Those men who buried their heads deep in her belly mound will never understand, but mother, in turn, takes their backs as a step, and sends her nest made of silk to the snow cliff step by step, in which lies the love of her life. Fans, put it on a high peak and let the sun read it. Because of this level of enlightenment, she began to understand that life doesn't have to be tied with a rope around her ankles, dragging her name or pots and pans in order to survive.She discarded those two memories and only tore off a few useful ones.When she learned to forget in large pages, jumping, connecting, and shaping memory codes at will, she not only forgave her mother, but even became deeply infatuated with her. However, the happiness was very short-lived. She forgot that there was a sister waiting ahead with a net in her hand. The net is made of steel wire, a huge net.She couldn't figure out what kind of spell she and her sister had suffered, so she fell into endless entanglement.When she was a young girl, when she was most depressed and helpless, she dreamed that she and her sister were stripped naked by a masked old woman, forced to stuff them into a dark urn like chicks, and the urn was sealed with a red cloth.The nightmare made her furious, like a frenzied bird struggling in an upside-down iron tripod, in the end, she must scratch herself, and the anger can only be calmed when she sees blood. She once used the most vicious thoughts to curse her sister to death, but the talisman branded on her back became mana, the more she hated, the tighter her love became. She couldn't imagine that if her sister disappeared, what would be left of her except a body? So diaries, letters, photographs in a drawer from an admirer, presents, she knew her sister's eyes had read every detail.It's not peeping, it's not sharing, it's coexistence and resonance.At the age of eighteen, when they threw their mother's ashes into the sea on the last day of the rainy season, on the return train, she stared at the green plain with misty rain and mist outside the window. Time has disappeared forever, and the gorgeous and shabby mysteries in life have also turned into dust along with her mother, and she can finally build her own house from a handful of soil and a load of bricks.However, at this moment, from the reflection of the car window, she saw her sister dozing off beside her, wearing a plaid shirt, jeans, and thin hair, leaning towards her with her whole body. , the elder sister whose dress is becoming more and more different from hers, when did she travel through the territory of the twin sisters and go out to climb mountains and wading alone, and now that the rain returns, she turns into a lover who must be guarded for life? She suddenly understood one thing, her mother didn't leave, her phantom was flying through the rain with the train, turning her head frequently, looking down at the two daughters who looked like a natural lover in the world of mortals with obsessive eyes.The red straw hat was tumbling in the air like a cosmos. sister Everything changed before the first typhoon made landfall. In fact, after the Dragon Boat Festival, she gradually smelled an unusual atmosphere brewing between them.First of all, the younger sister came home later and later, she said that she was working overtime; then, the calls from strange men became more and more frequent, the younger sister immediately cut to the extension in the room, closed the door and talked for a long time before coming out, she The saying is that customers discuss business.After several violent quarrels, she changed her method, no longer questioning her whereabouts, and instead used passive confrontation. When she received a call, she told the other party that her sister was not there, and if she left a message, she would not pass it on.She secretly conceived for a long time. One day, she hid in the black tea shop facing her younger sister's company and waited for her to get off work. It's just a piece of clothing. Then, she didn't spend much time noticing the transformation of her sister.The open space that was used as a waste collection and distribution center was fenced. Trucks, strange hands, and gravel trucks bombarded her ears all day long. The notice board said that the housing construction plan was the size of a medium-sized community.Not long after, the sample house and reception center were dolled up by the roadside.On the instant flower garden, a taupe mixed-haired cat reclined on the Korean turf, blinking its eyes, watching the excitement coldly. As if the residents of the cemetery were eager to try after being inspired by Zombie, a few days later, two construction business representatives in neat suits, accompanied by old neighbors nearby, rang the doorbell of her house.The house has been around for 20 or 30 years, and they are married, have children, and raise children in the old house. It is hard to part with it. Besides, I can’t find a house with a single family and a few big trees like this; How long will it last?When typhoons and earthquakes come, a heart hangs like a tiger's mouth.She understands, she understands, apparently several old neighbors nearby are initially interested in cooperating with the builder, and the two sides are also sincere in continuing to discuss the conditions.They invited her to attend the briefing. This matter is entangled, and it will never end.妈妈生前上个精打细算的人，留下的财产够她们一悲子过小康日子。妈妈办事是抓牛头不抓牛尾的，连带地替她们部署值得信赖的代书、律师及投顾专家，只要顺着妈妈的棋谱走，是可以天下太平的。她接着一一拜访那几位顾问，在酷热的夏日街道上像迷途孩子，其中一位毫不意外地说：“你妈妈十多年前就料到，那块地迟早会盖大楼，你们赚到了！” 妈妈曾经推算她的运程吗？就像掐算一条不起眼的巷弄、几幢破旧老屋有一天会有四线道大路划过，摇身变成新兴的住商混合区般，妈妈知道她会住哪儿走吗？ 妹妹连续迟归，索性连理由也懒得编了。她对改建的事意兴阑珊，“随便怎么办都好，没意见！”仿佛跟一切无关。在气象局发布今年第一个台风警报那天，她看见茶几上妹妹留的纸条，度假去了，也许三五天后回来。 似乎有什么东西从她身上流失，仿佛她是沙塑人偶，浪潮扑来，吐出泡沫，回旋，倒退，带走她身上的沙。台风夜停电，她缩入软沙发内咬着椅垫一角，静静听台风推倒工地围篱、样品屋看板、扫破她房内玻璃窗的声响……她知道雨水已经进来了，像一群饥饿的白老鼠齿咬桌上的书籍，拖曳床单，爬上那面拥挤的墙……生命，有时会走到万籁俱静的地步，再怎么用力叫喊还是悄然无声，终于渐渐失去知觉，不知道自己是什么？Where?也就无从同情自己。她凝睇落地窗外狂舞的树影，茶几上一截短烛忽明忽暗，意兴起一股毁灭也好的念头，好象屋塌了、人空了也是自然而然的风景。 大约破晓之际，她听到妹妹困在风雨里求救的喊声而惊醒，想来不是梦，是现实的声音搭在不相干的梦境内形成叠印。外头的风啸渐息，鱼还在下，她坐在沙发上浑浑噩噩，起身想喝杯水，猛然那声音有出现，像海面上突然刺出一把匕首。她听得仔细，是在外面，她打开窗户往外探，院内停了一部车，车灯把鱼势照得像幽灵之舞；车内顶灯也亮着，她没听错，是妹妹的声音，但她宁愿看错，宁愿永远不要被不可违逆的力量揪住头发、撑开眼睛，看她深爱的女子正在狭仄的车后座，一身赤裸地与陌生男子欢媾。 她没有走开，甚至没有移动视线，眼睛定定地放在宛如两条缠嬉的大蟒身上，听闻骤雨中一阵高过一阵的剧烈呻吟；她看到车窗被摇下一半，随即伸出一只婀娜脚丫，承受滂沱大雨的舔吻。她想走避，心里喊：够了，却无法挪动。那只白嫩的脚随着车身震动而前后游移，几乎朝她踢来……娇酣的女声渐次放纵，仿佛绮丽的生死边界，刺痛她的耳朵、喉咙，她感到有一把尖钻直挺挺刺中她的心脏，左右宛转；视线迷蒙中，她仿佛看见妈妈，提着破皮箱沿着铁轨离开燠闷小村的妈妈，被时间的种种挚爱遗弃，只有自己一个人，头戴红色草帽，走着走着，随着铁轨沉入海底，妈妈飘飘摇摇，一群小红鱼从她的脚缝间穿梭而过。 她不知道自己在角落箕坐多久。黎明时分，风雨似乎歇手。慢慢走到妹妹的房间，门虚掩，她看见他们裸裎而睡，鼾声起伏，像两片光滑的叶子在春水里悠悠荡荡。 “帮我把门带上。”她转身时，听到妹妹慵懒地说。 sisters 梦境也像台风过后的庭院般乱，她倒是方向清楚，好象来过很多次，其实是第一次来。绕过弯弯曲曲的小径，天是黑的，没遇到半个人，路的尽头是海，无声之海，倒像一匹黑绸布，上面银光点点，也不知是白色鸥鸟还是星月倒影。在陆海接泊处，她一眼就认出妈妈的脚印，比照片上的那枚大，而且像铁铸的。她抓住脚印拇指往上提，果然这只脚印是个盖子，底下立刻涌上一股森冷，她往下走，狭窄的石阶，似乎无穷无尽往心地延伸。她听到自己的心跳比脚步声还响，四周一片漆黑，那种黑是关了几百年的冷黑。她试着喊：妈妈！听到回音，仿佛这地窖极为辽阔。就在她几乎放弃时，她听到下面隐约传来回答，是妈妈是声音，听起来还得往下再走一阵子。 “嘿，我的小情人，下来抱妈妈一下！” 妈妈没变，还是那么美。她伸开两臂拥抱妈妈，妈妈吻她的耳朵，说悄悄话：“跟妹妹要永远相爱！”声音听起来很远，像风一样。她说：“我累了，妈妈，抱紧我，我真的累了……” 她不记得妈妈还说些什么，只觉得在妈妈的呵护下，可以安然入睡。醒来，是个陌生房间，色彩零碎、光影浮晃，脑子像掉进水泥桶，干了、硬了，什么也想不起。 “你看你，”一张苍白的脸映入眼帘，她记得了，是妹妹，在她后面站着一个男子，她也记得他是谁了。妹妹纠着眉头：“缝好多针，这下子公平了，我们都有疤！”说完，搂着她的脖子叹气：“姐，你好傻！”她完全记起来她有个孪生妹妹了，但不太确定她说的“傻”是什么意思，仿佛伤口是她的，傻是别人家的。 也许是痛吧，让她清醒起来。妹妹难得有点腼腆，介绍那位男子，她觉得他是个看起来令人舒服的人，没什么不好。 “姐，”妹妹握她的手，把手指头一根根掰开，跟自己的手交握：“我们都有鱼尾纹了，要为自己过活哟！” 她流下眼泪，不是因为痛，也不是“过活”两字惹她伤心，大概是“鱼尾纹”吧，她记得小时候妈妈说过，摸到最后会摸到鱼的眼泪。 搬家那天，阳光掺了几绺凉意，初秋适合用来道别，恋恋不舍中又有几分爽朗。妹妹的家当惊人，卡车跑了两趟才运完。 她帮他们打点，想到什么就写在纸上，叮咛他们仔细办，男友倒是毕恭毕敬聆听，妹妹还是大泼墨脾气：“你听她的，我们只不过搬到二十公里外，姐以为我们上月球啊！”近固然近，渐渐也会远的。 她想好好再看一次这个孪生妹妹，心里还是疼爱的。妈妈给了她月夜，却给妹妹艳阳。同时诞生的人，各有各的风景。 她送到路口，看车子转弯而去。秋天下午，她原本要往回走，想了想又转身，秋天下午适合散步，走一段路看看这片老宅区，兴建的事已谈得差不多，没多久这些大树院子都会消逝。 不知不觉走过头了，接到大马路来。她索性走下去，心情灿亮。她忽然想念妈妈，或者说，想念妈妈这个女人，她带领她们见识瑰丽的谜。 继续往下走会到哪里？have no idea.也许路到了尽头，碰到废水塘，那就照一照自己枯瘦的影子；也许下一个路口转弯处，会遇见一个像妈妈的人，一个像妈妈一样和她的生命紧紧印合的人。 一九九六年四月联合报副刊 Rainy Night Centennial Heart February 2005 Typed