Chapter 2 2. Disability and love

2. Disability and love 8 After many years, I still often wonder: C is in a wheelchair, is he playing a joke on me? In my diverse impressions, he was the first to come.In a picture with no background, I saw C sitting in a wheelchair, with the morning light of An Lun and the quiet sunset on his broad shoulders, which looked like a joke from a distance.He turned the handle of the wheelchair, and the wheelchair moved forward, backward, in a circle, and rotated 180 degrees, 360 degrees, 720 degrees... like a dance, like a game invented by someone recently, no background, no land or even blue sky, he sat there He moved lightly and spun deftly, as if he had mastered the game.You want to call him from a distance, and ask him: "Hey! What, what is this? Whose thing is this?" He turned his head and smiled, driving the wheelchair and walking towards me.You want to call him, you want to say to him, "Hey come down, come down, where did you get this thing? Come down and let me play..."

But when you approached him, approached C and found his two sagging trousers fluttering in the wind, then you slowly realized what happened.Especially if you've seen his naked lower body -- his nearly shriveled legs, and, his almost shriveled lower body -- that's when fate revealed its truth.At that time, there is a background in the picture.There is land under his wheels, blue sky above his head, houses and people like mountains and seas behind and around him.In my impression or in the image of c, there is life and time. I remember, on one unforgettable summer, a man with paralyzed legs who ended his forty years of celibacy.In my impression of writing night, this person, he is c.

That summer, he got married. He got married-how simple these four words sound. 9 The summer in the north came early that year, and only in April did the hot wind from the ocean blow onto the land.At the same time, a long-lost dream came back to C's heart—his distant lover wrote that she would come back this summer.The letter said that as soon as she could get away with the matter over there, she would leave immediately, come back, and never leave again, never leave again, and never be separated again.How many years have passed, c thought that this dream would be a dream forever, but suddenly the dream was about to come true. C already has gray hair on his head, and his lover X is no longer young, but after waiting for so many years, this day finally came.

It was an unusual summer.The whole city seems to be in love, people don't stay at home, all the streets are full of rivers of people, and a sea of ​​people gathers in a wide area... It seems that the gust of hot wind suddenly stirred people up. A long dream...c walking on the street in a wheelchair, surrounded by crowds, rushing away...the hustle and bustle of people seems to be the inherent sound in the vast sun and wind. c Stopped the wheelchair, sat by the river, and thought to myself: Maybe dreams are all on the same journey, and they are all the same mysterious instructions... What?On this writing night I asked him: What did you say?What mysterious order?

He pondered for a while, and then I heard him say by the river: the code of life itself.It is very likely that all dreams on this planet are due to the code of life itself... In his obsessive eyes are the surging crowd, and then the deep blue sky.He looked up.I know that he must have seen his forty years all over again in an instant. I asked him softly: what is the password? c was silent for a long time. I asked him softly: Disabled?or love? I waited until I saw his eyes fall from the deep blue sky, and the crowd rose again in his eyes, and he nodded—the voice carried into my writing night: Yes, It is disability and love.

The sun swayed freely, on the road, on the windows, on the low roofs, on the old city towers, on every new green leaf...there are blazing rays of light everywhere, blazingly noisy, vibrating, and flying. C wrote to x, and asked her to come back as soon as the matter over there was over, I was afraid that something would hinder their long-awaited reunion.The flow of people is like a tide, rushing and whirling in this ancient city, like a river in the flood season about to swell out of a narrow channel.He telegraphed x to tell her to come quickly, immediately! By coincidence, she really chose a once-in-a-lifetime day. The traffic in the city was also cut off the day X returned...the tense atmosphere dwarfed their reunion, making the long-awaited kiss inopportune.The excitement was diluted by surprise and worry. They stood on the street full of people and looked at each other: You are still like this, and you are still like this.They walked among the crowds, sometimes stopped in crowded places, and looked at each other: you have changed a little, and you have changed a little, yes, we are no longer young.The restless sun makes the joy of reunion trivial.They walked through the streets, she pushed his wheelchair, and walked home.

Lying in bed that night, they kept their eyes open all night, holding hands and making love carelessly.Holding hands, as if worried that they would lose each other again in the dark night; nervously listening to the sounds on the street, distinguishing every tremor in the air, praying incessantly.The sweltering night was impenetrable.Open the curtains and look out, there are silent and quietly moving figures at the door of every house, occasionally chatting in a whisper, and then staring at the starry sky for a long time. It was like this for many days.In my impression, no one in the city got married that season. C and X postpone their wedding day by day.

10 Then, in my memory or in my impression, the summer thunder is approaching from far away, the wind and dust are flying, and the leaves are blown pale by the wind, but there are no human voices, and there is no clamor of people rushing home when the storm is about to come , there is no mother calling her playful children to go home quickly from the balcony.The rain came by itself ignorantly, pouring, drifting, and beating everything, but the sound seemed to be different from before, monotonous and dull.Even boring, like falling into a deserted wilderness.No one came.No one came during the rain, and when the rain passed, no one came.

The sunlight came into the room again, it seemed illusory, it folded up at the base of the wall, and climbed onto the old wall clock, the pendulum of the clock flickered from side to side. For a long time, I don't know which of them said to whom: "I'll go out and have a look, but you stay at home." No matter who said it to whom, the word "home" suddenly came out of the distance or strangeness, which moved them almost to tears. "Home"—even the pronunciation, lingering in the boundless emptiness, moved them to tears. They go out together.Close the door of the house, close it, which means that it is waiting here temporarily, home, waiting here.A hut in the setting sun, waiting for your return at any time.They left together, looked back and looked at each other, they didn't say anything but they all had the word "home" in their hearts. Jia——how touching this voice is in the emptiness.

Five or six o'clock, summer, the sun after the rain is very clean, just like the eyes of a newborn child when he discovers the world for the first time, very clean, slightly surprised.I haven't seen a single person for a long time, and there are only shadows of the two of them on the wet road.There are many tall buildings, all the doors and windows are closed, and the burning sunset jumps from this piece of glass to that piece of glass, like a group of models shining.There are not even drying clothes on the balcony, no women's bright clothes, no children's fluttering diapers, only hard cement and their gray shadows.The huge shadows of the buildings fell in one direction, neat and empty.

C said: "I seem to have seen this scene before." "Really," x asked, "when?" C didn't say it, but he remembered: it was in a dream, in his dream during the long years of separation from X. They walked along the river, and the sunset painted and dyed the brick barriers by the river, with birds and waves drawn by children.In the distance, the overpass is spread out like a giant toy, where no one cares about, as if the children of the game have gone away, holding their toy vehicles and running away; while they are coming, C and X walk in, as if they were shrunk Thousands of times walked into this abandoned toy.Only the river is still flowing, the sunset is gradually shining on the river, and the mist is gradually floating on the river.Maybe it was the river, maybe they had flowed with it for a strange time, and saw the ruins of an ancient city. C said: "I must have seen this scene." X said, "When? No, no, it's impossible." Yes, the sun has never seen such a scene, the sunset has never seen, and even the moon has never seen.But C has seen it: in his dreams, in the years of their long separation, in his dreams of looking for X.But he didn't say it. They go back.go home.go home.As if in the emptiness from ancient times to the present, suddenly there were the footsteps of a woman and the sound of a disabled man's wheelchair.They walked back along the dark red wall of a temple, and their hearts were full of that bright and silent red, without boundaries.Let's get married. "OK?" "Ok." "when?" "tomorrow." At this time, a flock of pigeons flew up from nowhere, in the dusky twilight sky, snow-white, even shining, circling blindly from time to time, flying round and round, very fast, but without sound , there is no sound at all, and it seems to be light and smooth without friction with the air.They stood and looked up, and their eyes seemed to say: Are these birds real? When the flock of pigeons disappeared, and when the flock of pigeons landed again, their eyes slowly landed on each other's faces, staring at each other for a long time, as if they didn't remember to take a good look at each other until then .The gazes that stared at each other seemed to ask: What about us, is it true?Can we really touch each other as soon as we reach out? 11 Actually number thirteen.But the old lady in charge of marriage registration said: Just write the 14th, okay?The thirteenth is inauspicious, do you think the fourteenth is okay?ok, ok.Those old hands wrote another auspicious day.I don't know how many couples of men and women have registered their marriage through her hands.In the shade of the wall outside the window, clumps of grass jasmine quietly swell their buds, and they will release a faint bitter fragrance when dusk comes.The old lady sat behind a long table.She worked hard to check every form, her expression was kind and calm, as if nothing special happened, everything was inevitable, as if she believed that she came here for the issuance of these marriage certificates in this life.In the scorching afternoon, there was a dry smell everywhere. That courtyard was where C lived in his childhood (the whole family moved out when he was seven years old), and the row of houses where the marriage registration office is located was where he was born.I've known this since they were going to register, but I didn't realize it until they finished registering and went out. When C came to the world, he opened his eyes and saw this courtyard.Forty years ago he came here crying, where did he go around in forty years? (Where are they all? Anyway, it was not an easy walk, and I got into a wheelchair.) Forty years later, he came back here to register his marriage. This arrangement is quite innovative.Not necessarily just a coincidence. C donated to X for viewing: That was the house where my grandma lived, and that was the house where my parents and I lived. There is only one of the two jujube trees left, and there used to be a row of elm trees. The low wall is gone now, and all the doors and windows They have all been replaced, but the bluestone of the foundation and steps are still the original.I remember that these steps are very high, this yard is very big, running from one end of the yard to the other is very hard and eager for young C, jumping down from those high steps (“ One, two, three!" jumping down, "Ready—all!" jumping down), are feats of fear and excitement at the same time.Of course, you were very young once.C was small then, but the future was already there.Or, the past is not gone.In this June, I can still see a little boy, naked, standing in front of the steps, with green jujube flowers sprinkled at his feet, finely scattered all over the ground.The naked little boy saw the sun set on his shoulders, on his chest, and warmly set on his belly, rising and falling, leaving a little darkness in the hollow of his navel, taking a breath, the sun shone very peacefully The little man's logo, the breeze is blowing, maybe the wind blows his shadow to the ground?The boy bent down to touch the shadow on the ground, hanging his red-brown buttocks in the sun unscrupulously.The past is not gone, but the future is already here.I can still see the boy walking on the blue stones of the steps, his fresh and strong legs moving forward alternately.The boy found the fluffy moss at the foot of the wall, found the ants running around in the crevices of the stone, found a ray of sunlight changing its shape under the eaves, and looked up to see a group of birds calling and flying in the air in the courtyard... The boy is beyond reproach Accept such a world impeccably, accept his existence. C's life enters the world from here.Perhaps, the world is drifting slowly, and a perspective of desire (we call it C) is born here, which can be extended and expanded: trees, houses, streets, sun, moon, mountains, rivers, sky, sky, far away, la la la, you can sing and walk out The door to the house, walking down the street, childhood la la la you sang a road in the sky and a boat in the clouds I sang the idiots of youth la la la La la la a thin, tall and thin young man passed by the village, passed by the countryside, passed by the station in the rain and snow, passed by the wilderness, plateau, sunset, solitary smoke, la la la la, the singing is beautiful, and there is a seductive mystery and excitement rushing to your face, but when the tone changes, you are right To walk into love but you first step into disability and everything changes a few minutes ago you were bouncing and bouncing la la la dreaming towards love a few minutes later you fell into disability in the path you have to go through Disability on the road has long been ranked ahead of love. When you arrive, there is no defense and no escape. You must accept it. It’s like time is irreversible. Everything is irreversible. It’s like age and you can’t go back. It's like the dead can't be resurrected... Sitting in a wheelchair for many years, do you remember watching a movie where escaped people from prisons or concentration camps were caught and hanged? The jailer shouted at the living people to escape? This heart, that cry hits the nail on the head, that cry may not be more terrible than death, but maybe it is more terrible than death, so someone dies for it, even if they die, they want to escape? The soul has shown you that time can’t go back. Time really wants to escape like that. You should die. Those two almost withered legs can’t go back to the past and become as healthy, strong and beautiful as before. You are no longer The past you can no longer be the past you, die of this heart, time is irreversible... Time is a monster, the most impenetrable mystery. 12 While X was filling out the marriage registration form in the house, the old lady slipped out quietly and walked to C with a smile.The wheelchair cannot enter the house, and C is sitting alone in the shade under the gable of the west room, wondering at the sign on the door of the other room—"Love Committee". Could it be that love also has a special committee to manage it?Does love have to be registered?So, what forms do you have to fill out to be allowed to love?Thankfully, the old lady said: "Oh, this is the abbreviation of 'Patriotic Health Committee'." The old lady approached him, lowered her voice and asked: Are you both willing?Of course, he said.Have you had a physical examination?Surely the check proves you didn't read it?I looked at it, but, um... the old lady looked a little hesitant, and stopped talking. C already understands.At this time he already understood.There is no doubt that by this time I already knew what the old lady was thinking.Of course, it was not easy to say, the old lady was looking for the appropriate expression "hmmmmhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh)) it's hard for her, there has never been a better word in the Chinese dictionary to express that kind of thing).But I didn't expect that C was still a little flustered, a little ashamed, and even a little angry.Both he and the old lady were silent for a while, each looking away.The jasmine in the shade of the wall is as usual, full of buds, to bloom night after night all summer.I thought that it took so many years for C to clean up the shadow of that disability in his heart, but now I believe that it will be his eternal life.He actually foolishly said to the old lady: Many medical experts believe that modern medicine believes that... disabled people can marry, and they can... .The old lady said I know, I know, nodding repeatedly.But I believe the old lady doesn't know, she doesn't know anything.Sex, after all, does not belong to medicine.What the old lady wanted to ask was: sex, sexual function, and sexual dysfunction in paraplegics.In fact what the old lady thinks is: How will C have sex? ("Make love", this word is not in the Chinese dictionary. There is only "sexual intercourse" in the Chinese dictionary. Sexual intercourse: refers to sexual intercourse between husband and wife. The old lady is probably very unaccustomed to the word "sexual intercourse", and can only tolerate the word "sexual intercourse". calmer expression.) But she found a more ambiguous term: conjugal life.In this regard...you...huh?Is there any problem?I think that is an eternal question.But C said: Yes.I thought: What does "can" mean?I think C doesn't need to say anything more stupidly. Those things can't be taught or demonstrated. If it's not technology, it may be art. Sex and art are eternal problems.Can anyone tell me what art is and what is art?I can't remember how C and X succeeded in the first place, but it was not because of some brilliant technique, but because of a detail, because an unexpected detail suddenly expanded into the innate dream of C, a subtle The unintentional and unguarded expression of his actions connects with the long-standing dream and expands boundlessly.I didn't expect it, so I can't remember what it was.It cannot be learned and mastered, and cannot be imitated, such as dreams.Disabled prevents him from bursting out on touch, from careful coordination, from counting on a definite purpose, from pre-planning.Can't design, so can't remember what it is.But in the final analysis it is not technology, not a set of rigorous operating procedures.Instead, a group of wandering spirits that are blurred and floating, a group of wandering spirits that are unobstructed and unstoppable, manifest the sincere dream of life with the help of an unexpected detail, making the injured flower stand in the cold. open……. C said nothing more.The old lady didn't say anything anymore, she may have suddenly realized the occasion at that time, and such a topic made everyone look innocent when registering for marriage.But the old lady still stood beside C, looked at him, then at the clusters of jasmine buds that were about to open under the wall, then looked at him again, opened her mouth and quickly closed it, smiled at him, and turned around go away.She must be full of suspicion when she walks away, I know she must not understand anything, when she walks away, she is still imagining C's "marital life", imagining how they "have intercourse" or "making love", imagining his withered legs , and the flower of the man who was injured by the disability... Can he bloom and dance... Where does the vibrating power come from....I know that such a vision must not be expanded at all, and must be lost in the rules that have been followed for thousands of years.The old lady will spend her whole life guessing and not being able to figure it out.Many people have imagined and guessed like this, and many people are still imagining and guessing again and again, sighing pitifully at C in private, shaking their heads decisively at C's love and even marriage, but they don't say anything, don't say it in front of C, and avoid The person loves the right to avoid the subject.Avoidance is not just avoidance, but veto.Writing night I once heard C say: That's a verdict without trial.Writing night I have heard X say to C, "It's okay, it's okay, I know I know, isn't that enough...?" But, not enough.I am all too familiar with the old lady's expression.Multiply that expression of suspicion a thousand times, expand that wordless evasion a thousand times, and the veto is passed, which is enough for C and X Tian to miss each other for many years.If the sympathy and shaking of the head are converted into thousands of times of praise for strength and optimism, selflessness and dedication, then one is in a reliable situation where a person longs for love but dares not love, expects death but cannot die... … 13 So, what is love? The unstoppable dream is stubborn.But what exactly is that? Yes, we all believe that sex is not love.But minus the sex, is love still love? of course not.That cannot be separated. What about sex?What is sex?Is the desire just for sexual intercourse (or "intercourse")? Where does that undying desire come from, and where does it go?What kind of road has Joyful skin-to-skin dependence been on?What are the places that are so soul-stirring? The question, likely, at the time it was asked, already had an answer: If the answer exists, I think the answer should also include an understanding of the sudden death of the painter's wife.If the answer exists, it must also contain the key to the prelude to death.