Chapter 21 can not say it clearly

In 1966, a 32-year-old male, a Chinese teacher in a middle school in C County, U City I was born with the quality of being deceived--I had the idea of ​​suicide when I was a child--two words left to me by my ancestors--shouting and shouting true emotions came--a thrilling big "menu"--two My younger brother was implicated to death by me--there is still no clear sentence in the "Family Instructions" I have a tragic character, which means that my character determines that I will inevitably go to tragedy, because I am born with a quality of being deceived.What's even more sad is that, knowing that I was deceived, I still can't explain clearly, what's going on?So I often fall into pain and find trouble with myself.I hate my character, but can't get rid of it.Because of this, I had suicidal thoughts when I was very young.

When I was young, once, I saw my sister-in-law was working hard, so I carried water for her.How tall was I then?Isn't there a hook and two rings on the bucket?I picked it up, and the bottom of the bucket would barely touch the ground.The pressure of the two buckets of water hurt my shoulders, and I stumbled when I walked; I had to pass through the main room of the neighbor's house to reach my sister-in-law's room.When I staggered past that house, their adults came up and said: "The second brother is really capable. He even took the time to fetch water for us. Hurry up, then..."

As he spoke, he lifted the bucket and poured water into their tank. And me?Silly standing.I'm embarrassed to say: "I didn't pick it for you." According to our local dialect, this is called short face.But, I know it in my heart--they're making this way to take advantage of me.I understand why not say it?How ordinary and ordinary these words are, why can’t they say them?But I just didn't have the language at the time.Thinking about it many years later, I don't hate them, I hate myself.This is the quality of being deceived!In the future, I will suffer politically, suffer setbacks, and be wronged. I also lack such... such a concept, a language, and a brain?What is missing, I can't tell.

This is the first time I have been fooled, and it is also the first time in my life that I can't explain clearly. We parked a wheelbarrow at the head of the village and set up a basket to sell melons.Surrounded some people to buy melons to eat, Melons cost five cents each, and I paid five cents a ticket, bought one, and ate while standing.While eating, the melon seller said: "Little Walnut (my nickname is Little Walnut), have you paid for the melon?" Probably he didn't remember that I paid for it. I said I paid it.The melon seller pointed to the ticket in the money box and said, "Which one is yours."

There were five-cent bills in the box, and I saw that one looked like I handed it in, so I pointed to it and said, "This one." Unexpectedly, a melon eater next to him said: "I handed it in." I was dumbfounded.In a hurry, I felt that the money in the box was all the same, so I casually pointed to another one and said, "This one." The worst thing is, another melon buyer said: "I handed it over, there is a gap in the middle, why are you kidding me?" At this time, I put myself in the position of defrauding people.Melon sellers, melon buyers, and melon eaters all accused me, and I was speechless, as if I really lied to eat melons, and my face burned.

There is an old woman from the same village who is very kind. I call her the third grandma.She said: "You melon seller, why don't you give in? Whose child doesn't want to eat a melon? Maybe the adults don't pay for it, so it's nothing to eat a melon. Look at what you said to other children!" This sympathy--worse!On the contrary, my "fraud" was affirmed more solidly, and the case was finalized.Compassion also ruins people. At that time, I only felt wronged, but I didn't think about fame or anything.A few years later, a neighbor quarreled with my mother and scolded: "Your family doesn't pay for eating melons." I didn't know that I had always carried this bad reputation.I was so angry that I jumped up and down, and kept yelling "heh, heh", but I couldn't explain clearly.I was so anxious that I slammed my head towards the well platform. If my sister-in-law hadn't grabbed me, it would be over.This is what I said earlier, I had suicidal thoughts when I was a child.Just for this I can't tell.

One more thing. In autumn, I carried a basket on my back and passed by a small river ditch. I saw the water flickering and muddy. I knew there was something in the water, so I dropped the basket, took off my shoes and touched it in the water. It was a crab.Children can't control this guy, and they pinch me when they catch it.At this moment, Li Datou, who was driving the car, passed by. I said, "There is a pound crab!"Holding the big live crab, he laughed and said, "Take it for wine!" He got in the car and left. I didn't think about anything at the time, and I didn't have this concept, and I didn't have this kind of language-"I found it, it should be mine!" Country children are so simple, and they don't see bad people in their eyes, but when I think about it many years later, I feel very sad. Angry, isn't this bullying a child?I got acquainted with Li Datou...but I always feel that there is something deeper here, what is it?I still can't tell.But children cannot be deceived. If you deceive him, once he grows up and understands, you will have to pay the price.This price is not necessarily revenge, but you are destroyed in his heart.It's worse than you being dead!

My ancestors have left too much and too little in my soul.There are only two words after looking around, but these two words almost fill my soul.It is: forbearance and kindness. What is tolerance?The word forbearance is a knife above the word heart.If you don't make a sound when a knife is stabbed in your heart, that's tolerance.good?The ancestors said that kindness is human nature. Later I found out: Ninyu is very stubborn, and I can't throw it away until today.Good, weak, changed, the opposite came out of me.I know exactly when it started-- I was in my teens and I went out to town to play.A big stage is set up in the empty field, as if to sing an opera.There are fried tofu, candied haws on skewers, and roasted sweet potatoes below.Later, government agencies and units came in groups to make a song, singing "Unity is Strength" on one side, and "Hey La La La" on the other side.As soon as the mayor came to power, the atmosphere changed.He was wearing a little felt hat and a little padded robe, and he bowed every sentence as if he was shouting.I suddenly saw five solitary wooden stakes buried in an open space, and the people next to me told me that they were used to tie people up when they were going to be shot.Immediately, I thought of a book circulated in the countryside - the "Jade Calendar" in which the little ghost bound people to a wooden stake, tied them up, pulled out their tongues and cut off their tongues - I was very terrified in my heart.

After a while, the criminals were brought in by the big carriage.There are five flowers tied together, and a large stick in the shape of a command arrow is stuck on the back. The name is written on it with an ink pen, and then dots are marked with a red pen; it may be a horizontal line or a cross. I can’t see it clearly. , I felt red horror for the first time, and then the Cultural Revolution made me feel so excited, and that feeling was buried from then on.When these criminals were pulled out of the car, all of them had white faces, eyebrows and eyes were surprisingly black, probably called white faces.Immediately frightened, all the children ran around, calling their parents and mothers.Perhaps these criminals have committed so many crimes that they should be shot.But I sympathize with these people, probably out of the kindness of children.Especially when a young man who came to the stage to complain took off his belt and whipped them all with blood on their faces, I felt even more pitiful for them.But as the young man pumped, there was a chorus of yelling and beating, and the voice became louder, more uniform, and more inspiring.The fists are swung forward together, the bodies are leaned forward together, thousands of people are in the same posture.Unknowingly, I also punched and shouted, hit!hit!hit!Shouting and shouting, true emotions come, hatred comes.For a moment, the blood was boiling and filled with righteous indignation.

Later, during the campaign against Hu Feng, I really hated Hu Feng when there was a big criticism. When I heard that Hu Feng was arrested, I felt a little sympathetic to him.It’s like this every time there is a movement, as long as there is a lot of criticism, hatred will come, it’s all true emotions; as long as there is a fight, but also sympathy, it’s always going to be like this, you say what’s going on, I’m not very clear. It is even more difficult to explain clearly that I was labeled as a rightist.The reason is too simple, even too boring.I was in my first year of college at the time.When the sound was released, the students revealed that there was a worker who was very nice, but the logistics director was overbearing, lost something and said he stole it, and the worker disappeared one day, so he committed suicide.The students clamored to hold a memorial service for the worker.First of all, I agree, a good man was forced to death, let him be avenged!In fact, I don't know this worker at all. He committed suicide a year before I entered school. This is my kindness, or a kind of righteousness!But the party group disagreed, and opinions were divided.A few days later, "People's Daily" published an article "The Working Class Has Speak!" ", began to fight the right.Just because of this, make me a rightist.Yes, it's as simple as that, boring.But it has become the bane and the source of my family's ruin and death for decades.

I don't want to talk about the physical suffering of being a rightist for more than 20 years.Carrying big sacks, doing hard labor, and being beaten are nothing.Mental torture is far more difficult than physical torture.For example, I didn't joke around in the three years I was in school.What is life without jokes, have you ever tasted it?People especially need jokes, without jokes, people's relationships are not good.When everyone is queuing up to buy food in the cafeteria, talking and laughing, gagging, you taunt me, I taunt you, how nice!But when people see you as a rightist, the muscles on your face sink.Sometimes I really want to taunt others, and I really want others to taunt me, but I can't.No one dared to do this to me, and I dared not to others.Instead of being ridiculed by others, it is a manifestation of a person losing his rights, including self-esteem and dignity. Can you feel it?You say how deep this pain is! No one paid attention to me, and I fell in love with novels.The characters in the novel don't care if you are rightist or not, it doesn't matter if you ridicule these characters by talking to yourself.Most of the novels at that time were about good people and good deeds. It is very shallow to read now, but it was quite exciting to read at the time.One night during self-study, I was fascinated by reading novels and completely forgot that I was a rightist.The branch secretary came, and he had something to convey to the students, so he suddenly yelled: "All rightists get out!" Hearing his yell, I realized who I was.A few of our rightist students hurried out of the classroom, chattering, the embarrassment, the panic, the harm to people... When it comes to the harm to people, this is the current understanding.At the time, I didn’t feel like I was a rightist, a servant, a third-class citizen. When I panicked and got out of the classroom, it was as if I kicked myself out. Between us rightist students, we got along well at the beginning, let's share our fate and pity each other!But people hurt these people all the time, and gradually we didn't respect each other, and even relaxed about ourselves.Learn to deal with each other, don't care if you wear sloppy clothes or swear.We clean the toilet, and when people come in and urinate and walk away, you have to poop and urinate for them, and you still take yourself seriously?I can especially understand why prisoners love to fight. I don't want to talk about how they tortured me, but I want to ask, I know how I became ruthless, but how they all became ruthless, do they know it too?They can't be so ruthless when they are just born.I guess they can't tell. I have a guilt I have to tell you-- For the sake of me, a rightist, I also took my two younger brothers.We have five brothers, and the two who died are the third and fourth brothers.Let me talk about my third brother first. I regret that I should have told him about the rightists.When our school was classified as a rightist, I came back from the winter vacation to celebrate the New Year, and I felt bad for being a rightist.Think about it, I am a college student in my family, and my family treats me extraordinarily well. The better they treat me, the less I dare to tell them; when I can't help it, I secretly sue my brother.My younger brother has a very stubborn temper, and he is so dumb. In our local dialect, he is called "Evil Chong".He is a salesperson of the County Supply and Marketing Cooperative.After hearing this, he was in a bad mood, and he would always find fault with the leader and fight with him.The leader said, "I'm going to label you a rightist too." My brother said, "I don't believe it." So I caught him with a few backward words and really made him a rightist. He is only eighteen years old.How about you find an eighteen-year-old now?Smarter than adults.But at that time, eighteen years old was about the same as a child.Hitting him made him even harder.Just gossip with a few other young people who are also identified as rightists, saying that we are not good, let's get a boat and run away.These few words were reported by others, and they were found out. They knelt on the table of the supply and marketing cooperative and fought with each other every day, sweating profusely with a big light bulb on their heads.Later, the Public Security Bureau tied him up and took him away, accusing him of "surrendering to the enemy and committing treason."What crime?Children are talking nonsense!The boat ran into the Bohai Sea, why didn't a wave overturn it?Besides, Wang Yang's insult, do they know where to run?Talk about discouraged. When I think of the image of the third brother when he was tied up and taken away by five flowers, I can't stand it.Although I didn't see this scene at all, I can imagine the image at that time.I understand very well that it was because I told him about the rightists that I ruined him!I didn't see him until he died. In 1960, I was assigned to teach in a primary school in the county.At that time, the third brother was in prison and had not yet been sentenced.I can't go to see him, I'm a rightist, he's a counter-revolutionary, it's even worse when we meet each other, and we will all blame each other.One day my mother had a toothache, and I took her to the county hospital for dental treatment. I was having lunch in the county seat when an uncle of my family came from the village on a bicycle and said: "Your brother is back." My heart lit up, this is a good thing, I let it go back.My mother suddenly changed her expression dramatically, and said, "I'm dead, go back quickly!" She is really not simple, did an old woman in the countryside have such judgment yesterday?I was still puzzled at the time, so I gave my uncle a few cents and half a catty of food stamps to thank him, which was fine at the time.I sent my mother to the train first, went back to school and asked for leave, and hurried home.When I got home... my brother's body lay on the bed.His head was like a little skull, and after a few glances, he recognized his appearance... It is said that he was transported back to the prison in a donkey cart at nine o'clock in the morning.A broken quilt is covered on the top, some straw is placed on the bottom, and the feet are exposed outside.The big cotton trousers on his body were originally specially made for him by his mother. They were very long up to his chest and down to cover his feet. The layers of cotton were thick enough to prevent him from freezing.But the cotton trousers were changed, and they turned out to be a pair of children's cotton trousers!Half of the calf is exposed at the bottom, and it can't be stretched up. The buttocks are exposed. Why don't they freeze to death in three or nine days.It is said that when he was carried into the house, he was still breathing. My younger brother and sister said, "What's the matter with you, tell your family." I gave him hot water, but he died before he swallowed the water. My mother told me that when she pressed my brother's stomach, the spine was hard inside.So where did the intestines, stomach, and stomach go?Some sorghum shells are stained on the torn sweater, and there is red clay face, what is the red clay face for? By the way, I remembered something again, which is also my lifelong regret.Irreparable guilt for life! My father also found a letter stuck to his belly from my brother's body.The letter was so well written that no writer could have imagined it.In terms of literariness, it is also the highest.I am afraid that even Tolstoy and Cao Xueqin will not be able to write it.This letter is addressed to his wife, Guiying.Listen, here's what he wrote-- Guiying: I'm so hungry, please bring me something to eat!I want steamed buns, rice, vegetable dumplings, fried dough sticks, meat buns, fried noodles, fried fish, fried shrimp, fried nuts, boiled crabs, stewed meat, scrambled eggs, roasted tofu, pot stickers, dumplings, sugar buns , Stir-fried Shrimp, Stir-fried Liver Tip, Scallion Stir-fried Pork, Sauce Beef, Pork Head Meat, Instant-boiled Lamb, Twice-Cooked Pork, Twist, Stewed Chicken, Stewed Duck, Stewed Knuckle, Single Face Towel, Fried Pork Slices, Pancakes, Stewed Cakes, Stewed Large Intestines, Braised Lamb , braised beef, braised pork, braised duck... If you don't have any, you can bring two sweet pastries.hurry up!hurry up!I beg you! His name is written underneath.A big menu of fifty or sixty items!Can you imagine what happened to him then?When I eat in a restaurant these days I never look at the menu, it's like my brother's obituary.Once a friend asked me to order for a meal with the menu, and I suddenly said to him in a trance: "If you ask me to read the menu, I won't eat." It made him baffled. Speaking of my guilt, when my brother was in prison, every time my mother visited the prison, she would buy him something to eat and send it to him.I was still a little reluctant, thinking that people could still be starved to death in the prison. It was a three-year drought at that time, and the family was licking the pot and the pot.Although I never stopped my mother, and I never said it out loud, I had this thought in my heart.When I read this letter, I felt extremely guilty.I want to know that he has come to this point, even if he dies of starvation, I have to feed him.I feel sorry for my dead brother if I have this thought, it was me who killed him. I still clearly remember the scene when my father read this letter.My brother's body was moved to the kang. I sat on this side of the kang, my mother, Guiying, and two younger brothers stood beside me; Put a small oil lamp on it.When my father read out all the food written in the letter, my heart was almost crushed.My father had read it, and then set the credit light on fire, then put his head on the edge of the bed, and shrugged his shoulders violently, as if it was hurting somewhere, but he didn't make a sound.We just shed tears and didn't say a word.How can someone die without making a sound?How can you bear it so much?you say? My brother works in the Public Security Bureau of another county. He heard that my brother was only given a bowl of sorghum rice every day in the prison, and then he was harnessed like an animal, beaten with a whip, rolled with a stone, and rolled into a kind of red clay face. Find out what is going on with the sorghum shell and red clay face that my brother has on his body.I don’t know what the purpose of rolling red clay is, but I know that my brother was tortured and starved to death.My brother sued the warden of the prison, but instead of suing him, when the Cultural Revolution came, he said that he overturned the case for the counter-revolutionary family, was punished, fought, and was purged.The disasters in my family are one after another, and I am the root cause of all disasters.But my parents, these brothers, never one of them complained about me, not even a single word was revealed.The less they blame me, the more guilty I feel.Sometimes I think, why don't they blame me?Have you endured it too? We can bear others telling us to endure, but we can't bear ourselves asking others to endure. Forbearance is the first rule of survival that my ancestors taught me, but who taught it to my ancestors?Which ancestor invented it and passed it down from generation to generation?Since when did you start to endure it?I asked a historian, and he laughed at me, as if my question had no academic value and was too ignorant.I said, is it your job to move around and toss those dead inheritances? Why don't you study the deadly living thing that has suppressed our nation for thousands of years? If you want to talk about it clearly, this is the biggest lack of clarity. Let’s talk about my other brother, the fourth brother. At that time, the family was too poor, a strong laborer, only 15 or 6 cents in good years, and only 7 or 8 cents in arrears.My brother secretly picked up some miscellaneous grains and sold them.In the people's commune, even a piece of grass on the ground belongs to the commune brigade.That means he stole.The cadres of the brigade told him to carry the small bundle of firewood on his back through the streets.The reason for punishing him like this is not because his brother is a rightist.But how could he afford a wife if he was so poor?He went to steal again, ran to Baishizhuang, stole a bundle of brooms from the roof of the production team, and sold them in the city.He is very honest. When he steals and sells things, his eyes are not right. People in the city are smart. If you hold him back and ask him, you will be stupid, and if you scare him again, you will confess.This was transferred to the commune police station and detained. After three days, he opened the window and ran away.He ran away as a thief and was not taken seriously, but two days later, someone found him lying in a ditch beside the railway, his body was stiff, and there were many ants and insects crawling on it, and he was dead.Some people said that he wanted to lie on the track and asked the train to hang him; others guessed that he wanted to jump on the train to hide outside, and was accidentally killed by the train.I knew in my heart that he didn't want to run, but to die.The family is so poor, my elder brother is a rightist, and if I get a thief myself, let alone marry a wife, I can’t even look up when I’m alive, so how can I explain it to my parents?There is only one death.But there was no external injury on his body, which is strange!If a train runs over or hits you, you must be injured. This is also something that is not clear.What?Call the forensic doctor to examine the injuries.You put it lightly, at that time people like us were dead like dogs, who cared about the autopsy, since they were dead anyway, they dug a hole and buried them. In this way, my two younger brothers made me exhausted.He died and was charged with crimes: a counter-revolutionary, a kleptocrat.My parents had three bad sons: a counter-revolutionary, a thief, and a rightist.What kind of home do you think I am? At the beginning of the "Cultural Revolution", the school party branch asked me to tell the truth to Chairman Mao, plead guilty, and honestly explain the problem, and should not hide it.After much deliberation, I came up with a problem: When correcting a composition for a student, I wrote the sentence "Use Mao Zedong Thought to Criticize Bourgeois Thought." : "Teacher, you made a mistake." I was frightened into a cold sweat, and quickly corrected it.Fortunately, the kid was honest and didn't tell me. I honestly confessed this matter to the party branch and pleaded guilty to Chairman Mao. In fact, I don't say that no one knows, they don't grasp this issue.What do you think is wrong with me?No one puts pressure on me, so why should I say it?Do I still trust them?Do I still feel that I am not unlucky?Do you mutter in your heart?Is it inherently mean... I don't know why I have to say it.I always suspect that there is something tragic lurking in my blood.I have blood disease. In this way, I was branded as an active counter-revolutionary, and I was daring to oppose Chairman Mao.Criticized me, beat me, and when I couldn't bear the beating, I ran back to the village to hide.Later, the two major alliances sent people to arrest me and bring me back to school to continue the criticism.Let's not talk about physical pain, it's useless to talk about that.The pain of the flesh is forgotten as soon as it does not hurt, but the pain of the heart cannot be forgotten or taken away.You don't know what's going on because of the headache, let alone explain it clearly.If one day you can say it clearly, you will no longer feel bitter.Suffering is your inability to articulate it. During the great earthquake in 1976, our whole county collapsed.The train didn't work, so I ran dozens of miles to get home, and there were already ruins mixed with countless dead bodies.The dead are all my fellow countrymen, and I recognize everyone.The gods made by the common people, such as God, Land God, and City God, gave special treatment to my family. They confiscated one person from my family, and all of them narrowly escaped death. They built a shed in the wild outside the village.The most difficult thing at that time was not being able to find anything to eat.The brigade greeted with loudspeakers: "Comrades from the poor and lower-middle peasants, come to the brigade to receive relief supplies!" Relief supplies are just some biscuits.Everyone went, but the brigade said that the relief biscuits were only for the poor and lower-middle peasants, and people with problems like us had no share.My wife went and was pushed back.Look at the faces of people when they come back.The poor and lower-middle peasants held the biscuits in both hands, with a sense of superiority on their faces!And people like us are silent and dejected!That alone clearly divides people into two classes... the folks with biscuits won't let you have any, you're like a dog on the sidelines.But they don't eat it in front of you either.What do you say this is for?Because you are afraid that you will ask him for it?Feeling sorry for eating alone?Or are you afraid that you can't help but give you a little bit at a time, so that the brigade cadres will find out?can not say it clearly.This is worse than being hungry! I went to dig through the ruins of my home to find something to eat.After digging around, I suddenly found something, a plaster statue of Chairman Mao, which was in every family at that time.When a child in the village picked up his mother who was smashed under the messy bricks, he first rescued the portrait of Chairman Mao and then picked up his mother. This was praised by the whole commune.But this statue of mine was smashed and lost one ear, the one on the left.what to do?I am worried.I put the portrait of Chairman Mao on a brick and said to him: "Old man! What do you think I will do with you? My family has no food or shelter, so where will I entrust you? You lost your ears again. If they say that I knocked on purpose, my family will be even worse ? You, what do you think I should do?" I thought of a bold way to hide it first, and then dig a deep hole in the ruins.At dusk that day, I scouted around and saw that there was no one in the ruins, so I got into the pile of bricks and buried it quietly.It would be a crime to lose one's head if others found out!Am I committing a crime?That night, I woke up with a fright, and my heart beat for several days.I always regret it afterwards, hating myself for not doing it.For a long time this sense of guilt weighed heavily on me. me.What is the matter with me? After the Cultural Revolution was over and the issue of my rightists was settled, I was running around for the rehabilitation of my third brother.I can't ask him to always bear that crime, just to appease the deep guilt towards him in my heart.But this matter was pushed back and forth. I ran for three years, adding up to no less than ten thousand miles, but no one told me clearly about this matter.It's not "not clear", but "not clear".In particular, there is a detail-- It was nine o'clock in the morning on January 15, 1960 when my brother was sent home dying.However, the date written on the "arrest notice" was also January 15, and there was also a sentence "execution suspended due to illness". According to this sentence, the procuratorate should notify the Public Security Bureau on January 15th, and then go to the prison to carry out the arrest after the director signed it. After seeing my brother was critically ill, he decided to "suspend execution due to illness", and then put my brother in the car and drove to my house. Send, it will take a long time.But my brother delivered it home at nine o'clock in the morning. According to the distance, he had to be carried from the prison to the donkey cart at eight o'clock at the latest. There was no time to go through formalities!How could these two things happen at the same time? Probably after the Cultural Revolution is over, no one wants to be responsible for that period of history, and no one wants to explain clearly.To this day, I am still two younger brothers: one is a counter-revolutionary and the other is a thief, and he has long since become a ghost.In those days, the living were not taken seriously, and the dead were even less taken seriously.My mother died of illness, and the cause of death was of course depression.All this was because of me, but I was rehabilitated and ended up with a happy ending.Do you think I can have an easy life?Guilt is a stubborn thing, it stays in the heart, and it will stir up and torture you at any time.No one will know how tired I am... I want to write a "Family Instructions" and leave it to my children. My "Family Instructions" still doesn't have a single sentence that can be clearly stated. I just tell them these unforgettable things and leave them with these puzzling question marks.After all, young people today have more brains than our generation.If they can explain all this clearly, they will not suffer again in the future.If they don't figure it out, they will inevitably repeat my experience: suffering from being dumb, being fooled, and waiting to be tossed.It is still a tragic character, but it is going to tragedy, even to the abyss of tragedy. *** Is it a tragedy of character, or is this character chosen by tragedy? ***