Chapter 15 Fifteen, small street

Fifteen, small street 137 When the female teacher O and WR broke up by the river, the news of the long-lost painter Z rang in my ears again.Where is he?In fact, he was in the direction that O was walking, in the group of low gray houses on the other side of the river, whether it was "past" or "yesterday", Z was there, not far from O.Now he was closer to O—not the distance in space but the distance in fate.There was no sign of this change in advance, but suddenly their destinies were about to merge.Only God can see that due to the breakup of WR and O, the last obstacle has been cleared in the decades of O's journey to Z.

God always likes to play tricks. This is the point of life and the basis of all the charms of life. Your surprises, puzzles, emotions, sorrows, obsessions and so-called thorough enlightenment all depend on God’s kindness. Hobby. I often think, if O takes a straight line and walks towards Z (from that afternoon in the snowmelt season, that cold winter night, without passing through WR or waiting or delaying for more than ten years, the little girl O has always walked towards Z, into the boyhood Z up to the life of youth Z, what then)?Then, very likely, Z is not the Z of today, nor the painter Z, and O will not be the present and future O.That is to say: O takes a shorter (or another) road to Z - this proposition is not valid.You only live once, and God doesn't like assumptions. O can only be O in one kind of destiny, can only be O in such destiny, Z can only be Z in such destiny, you are your destiny, and if you leave your destiny, there will be no you.

It is during the few years that O has come to Z but has not yet reached, Z becomes a painter, and becomes the Z that O can go to. 138 Z was born with a desire for nobility and beauty, but he was born with mediocrity or ugliness. After the winter night when he was nine years old, the reason why he never went to that dreamy house to find the girl who was also nine years old was not necessarily because the owner there regarded him as a "wild child". is an important reason, but not all.If he could believe that he had reason not to be considered a "wild boy" by them, the sliver of voice in the deep hallway might soon die away.If he had reason to believe that his place was poor but not mediocre and ugly, that voice would not have buried his memory and carved his heart for years.If his mother hadn't remarried, and hadn't brought him into a dirty life because of it, then, when those flying and handsome music sounded, it would be able to resist that terrible voice, and the painter Z might be the same as the poet L , I will still look for that dreamy girl with the innocence of a teenager.

But the mother's remarriage identified a boy as Z. 139 The mother's original intention was to remarry an ordinary worker. She understood her uncle's advice day by day and believed that this alone would benefit her son's future.However, Z's stepfather is a worker but not an ordinary worker.What my mother called "ordinary worker" is actually an abstract concept. I think, in her mind, just like in newspapers and books at that time, it was just a specimen of a class or a depiction of a totem, but Z's stepfather was a flesh-and-blood worker. Reality has its specific history, temperament and hobbies.For example, I remember that besides being a worker, he was also a movie buff and alcoholic, who played the erhu beautifully and was addicted to alcohol.

On the edge of the old city, between a large area of ​​gray old houses and the ruined city wall, there is a small street. In my impression, Z’s stepfather lived there from birth to death (he said that his The afterbirth was buried in the ground in front of his house).The name of this small street does not need to be specifically pointed out. A few years ago, there were many such small streets in this city, and the name could not distinguish them.The so-called small streets are not wide, but long, dusty and muddy paved roads, often quiet, and often noisy with cars and horses, leaving a road of hot horse manure behind the carts pulling grain, coal, bricks, tiles and wood.I remember that on such a small street, there was an old man selling "rotten~paste kidney beans—" in the morning light, a woman with a child shouted "Bad, I'll buy—" in the afternoon sun, and an independent The man with legs sang "Stinky Tofu ~ Sauce Tofu—" in the evening wind.I remember that there is usually an open space on such a small street, and there is a running water on the open space for the residents of half the street to enjoy. There are often two tricycles for guests parked on the open space, and the driver is humming in the seat with his feet up. A group of idlers can always gather in the open space to drink tea, smoke slowly, or rely on a broad-shouldered fool for laughter. The background of the open space is probably a coffin shop. I remember two shirtless men The big saws are pulled there all the year round, and the sawdust flows down happily, and the logs are turned into planks, and then into large and small coffins.There will always be one or two old locust trees in such a small street. In spring, green worms hang from the trees with a thin thread, wandering in the air. In summer, women and children enjoy the coolness under the trees, and the young mother is naked The breasts of the trees nurse their children, and there are striking bird nests in the canopy in autumn.In such a small street, most of the courtyard gates have no sewage facilities, and the washing water and vegetable washing water are poured on the street. In winter, two ice roads stretching for tens of meters form in the depressions on both sides of the road. Skating all the way to school feels that the distance is not so far away.On such a street, it may not be anywhere, there must be a small candy stall, and the dirty glass bottles contain colorful candies, just like children's colorful dreams.On such a street, not necessarily at what time, there will definitely be the sound of the monkey playing gong, and the children will follow excitedly to catch up with a happy time.I remember that there was a flag banner at the intersection of such a street, which was a small hotel.There is a frying pan in front of the small hotel, rolling fried meatballs or fried fish, which is mouth-watering. An old-fashioned radio in the shop is talking and singing to cheer up the drinkers. The shopkeeper is busy behind the counter. While making wine and cutting meat, the shopkeeper walked around with a smile on his face when he was free, while chasing away tireless flies.In the evening, the small hotel is the busiest. The drunkards yell and drink three times, guessing boxing games, singing with their own voices, full of talents.At this time, the whole small hotel was looking forward to a "luthmaster", and people asked each other why he hadn't come, because if he didn't come to the show, he couldn't really sing.Soon, he came, tall and thin, and walked into the store with a huqin amidst the greetings of all the fans.In my impression, he should be Z's stepfather.Everyone reserved a seat for him that he liked. He sat down and drank quietly. The wine had to be properly warmed, and the meat had to be boiled rotten and not broken. Both the wine and the meat could no longer be expensive, but there must be strict rules. pay attention to.It is said that Z's stepfather's father and grandfather both held important positions in the court.After drinking for three rounds, the long-awaited "qin master" spread a piece of white cloth on his knees, and when someone handed him the qin, he closed his eyes and tuned the strings gently. moment.All the theater fans became excited, those who sang and those who didn't sing cleared their throats, and the shopkeeper stood by the door to prevent the fans who didn't buy wine from coming in.It didn't take long for the qin to sound in the store, and the play started to sing. The sound of the qin and the singing hit the dilapidated city wall, bounced back, flowed through the entire alley, and poured into every household.

I was once attracted to such a hotel by the sound of the piano and singing, and I poked my head into the shop when the boss was negligent. I saw a tall and thin player who played the piano with his whole body swaying with the bow, The two slender legs are intertwined, the toes are holding the shoes, and the shoes are shaking but will not fall off, and the socks are delicately patched.I think he is Z's stepfather, and the fine patches on the socks must be made by Z's mother. The opera in the small hotel has to be sung for a long time every night. Tavern drama usually ends with the birth of a drunk or two.People sang and drank, drank and sang, shouted and yelled, laughed and cursed, and people in the whole small street couldn't sleep because of it.Suddenly there is a unique change in the singing in any corner, or there is an impromptu development in the lyrics, which is a sign of the birth of a drunkard.Such a drunk is sometimes Z's stepfather.If the sound of the piano suddenly became tense, and the sound of the piano suddenly ignored the beat of the singer, and then seemed to break out of the encirclement and escape from reality alone, then Z's stepfather was drunk. The drunkenness of "The Luthier" is always like this, in a monotonous way.When everyone heard the sound of the piano, they all stopped singing, knowing that tonight's cup should stop and the show should be over. Once the increasingly tense sound of the piano stops, only the "qin master" will be left crying.I once saw a tall and thin man drinking alone and crying under the dim light of a small hotel, with tears all over his face, and a huqin lying at his feet.I feel that this person is Z's stepfather.No one understood what he was talking about, and no one asked him what he was going to say over time.The crowd gradually dispersed, leaving him to cry alone.When the crowd dispersed, they laughed at each other and said, "The waste wine bottle in his family will inevitably be smashed to pieces tonight."Such prophecies rarely fail.

Z's stepfather was crying and talking, and suddenly felt that there was no one around. He was stunned for a long time, and then bought two taels of wine from the shopkeeper, with the bottle tucked around his waist, and went home with the piano.No one was seen along the way, but the city wall approached the stars faintly in the night sky, the dead grass on the city wall made ghostly noises in the night wind, and Z's stepfather hurried home.When I entered the house, I saw that the family members were doing their own things and didn't seem to care about him, so I was filled with grief and indignation. I realized that I should feel more dignified at home, so I picked up a few empty wine bottles and put them outside the house. There was a crash on the wall and on the floor.You can definitely rest assured that no matter how drunk he is, he will not be so foolish as to smash anything more valuable than this.

The first time she saw him drunkenly, Z's mother was so frightened that she hugged Z tightly, and then used her body to block Z's unrelated sister.But the girl who was only three years older than Z—Z's half-sister M, didn't seem to respond, didn't panic or cry, and just looked at her stepmother apologetically. M is a precocious girl. Afterwards, M said to her stepmother: "It's always like this, it's okay, he won't make trouble anymore, at most he will sleep for two days in a row." At that time, Z's stepfather was sleeping motionless and had been snoring continuously for twenty-four hours.

"What disease did your biological mother suffer from? How could she...?" the stepmother asked M. Only then did M cry, silently for a long time, and said, "She's not dead. She's alive. She took my six younger sisters and went back to the south." "why?" "He," M indicated to the sleeper, "the money he earns, maybe, is not enough for him to drink alone." "Why, don't you go with your own mother?" M lowered his head, fiddling with his fingers with tears in his eyes.Suddenly she realized something, looked up at her stepmother and said, "But my dad, he's not bad." Her eyes and tone seemed to be pleading for her father, and it was not necessarily for a father, but more for a father. A man, a man who has been abandoned.

Mother Z didn't know how to respond for a while. M is so sensible that mother Z doubts her actual age. But I think the actual age is unimportant. For a novel, especially for my impression, it is unimportant, even meaningless. Then nine-year-old Z interjected: "Why isn't he bad?" "He is a good man." M said to Z. "How is he good? What a fart!" Mother shouted to Z: "Don't talk nonsense!" M looked at the younger brother in surprise.After a long time, she turned her face to her stepmother and said, "My dad, he can even dream that I can have a younger brother."

The mother put her arms around the half-siblings and said to Z: "You have one, good sister." Z looks at M without saying a word.Twelve-year-old M pulled Z's hand, and it seemed that nine-year-old Z did not object. At this time, a foul smell suddenly rose in the room, and the smell became thicker and thicker, making it almost impossible to breathe. Z was the first to shout: "It's him, it's him!" Shouting, he fled outside the house, as if he had been humiliated. It turned out to be the drunk man who felt like going to the toilet after sleeping for twenty-four hours. He struggled but could not break free from the sleepman's control, and he couldn't control himself... 140 Z was so impressed by the strong stench that in the following years, as long as Z entered his stepfather's house, the disgusting smell would immediately swirl up, making Z suffocate.Or that smell, not in the space but only in Z's sense of smell, frequently appeared, becoming the atmosphere of the stepfather's house. In Z's heart, he never admitted that it was his home. That day he ran out of the house, out of the yard, across the side street, up to the city wall.The boy Z knelt on the city wall and vomited until his stomach was about to come out, but the dirty and humble smell still did not dissipate. The city wall was damaged and dilapidated, and many city bricks were lost.Many nearby houses are built with city bricks. Among the crowded houses, there are chicken coops and kennels built with city bricks.Many parts of the ancient city wall are completely like a barren hill of loess. The lush weeds can drown the boy Z. During this period, there are crickets chirping, snakes swimming, cats in heat dating, and the shadow of a weasel occasionally. Fleeing. Z knelt in the weeds, looking at the large gray houses under the city wall, the lights were kept on there, seemingly lifeless, but there were shouts, singing, cursing, laughter and crying coming from the cave. It seemed that there was a rumor from under the roof that there were only living things walking in the tunnel-like alley. I think Z might be suspicious for the first time in his life: Then why must it be human and not some other animal? Z began to resent his mother, why did he bring him here?He thought of the south, the old wooden house, the eaves of the old house in the drizzle, the dripping plantains, the extinguished incense at dawn, and the cry of some kind of strange insect before dawn, even the "woo-woo-woo Wow——” The strange cry seemed to be more intimate.He thought of the white neck and high bow of his mother under the moon in the south, the slim figure of his mother wandering silently in the old house, in the courtyard, and on the corridor, and her gentle and fragrant mother's lips kissed him... He wanted to ask His mother took him back, and he even missed his hometown in the north, the fragrance of sunflowers and the beekeeper's hut in the sunflower forest. He wanted to go back with his mother, no matter where it was, go back, don't be here, this is not mine Home, go back to the home of my mother and me, go back to the home that only belongs to me and my mother.But he knew it was impossible, and his mother would not agree.The boy wept for this.Now my mother has changed, grown old, flustered, slovenly, rough, and tired, and Z thinks it's all caused by that stinking alcoholic.How could mother be willing to live with such an ugly and vulgar person? Z then thought of his biological father, the man he had never met, so it was not a memory but an imagination.Imagine, always in the place where the mountains are high and the water is long, always in the place where the land is wide and the sky is wide, in the north, where the forest and the wilderness are connected, it may be cold and gloomy, the sun is cherished on the skin and in the heart, the sun is very It was not easy, but even if the clouds were overcast and the wind was bitter and rainy, that man strode forward without hesitation, aloof and dignified, that was his father, that could be him—the father of painter Z. I have two thoughts on this: First, this imaginary scene is already close to the atmosphere of the future painting, and the imaginary man's steps are bound to evolve into the pretentious fluttering or burning of the white feather.The second is that the imaginary man may not be Z's biological father, but more likely Z himself. It is his narcissism and self-admiration, and a self-portrait of his budding emotions. After this kind of imagination was born, boy Z's mood gradually calmed down.He stood up, walked on the city wall, and looked at the beautiful house in the cave-like dark room group. Z hasn't forgotten that place, but he can't go now, there is a gap or an abyss between there and here, maybe one day he can go again, when he jumps over that gap, when credible pride fills up that abyss . Z walked on the city wall, looking for the house, maybe he found it and looked at it, maybe he didn’t find it and looked in its direction, and then, the records left by his biological father turned in the painter’s heart... So I remember that one day Z's stepfather was drunk again, and the empty wine bottle fell on the floor and the wall, almost smashing those precious records of Z, and Z went into the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and said every word. He said sternly to the drunk: "Be careful, if you damage my record, I will kill you!" The drunk basically came to his senses and remembered this warning forever.Later, some drinking friends asked Z's stepfather, why was he really afraid of such a child?The stepfather said: "That child, Z, you didn't see it, his eyes were full of murderous intent at that time." 141 Z likes M.This older sister, who has no blood relationship with Z, not only cares and loves Z as her own brother, but is also the first person on earth to discover and appreciate Z's painting talent. Z's stepfather worked as a gardener in a very important institution, and cultivated ornamental flowers and trees in the flower garden or greenhouse, so that the front door, roadside, corridor, and indoor of the institution had three seasons of evergreen flowers.Therefore, Z’s stepfather’s small courtyard was also full of flowers and plants. On that street, which was almost only gray (brick) and yellow (soil), I remembered that there was such a small courtyard, where clusters of green leaves and a few flowers were often sprinkled on the wall. Clusters of blood-red or snow-white flowers.I can't name so many flowers and plants. I only remember two times when people from the whole street rushed to the small courtyard to see the flowers. Z's stepfather likes wine first, and flowers second, so it doesn't matter if he plays the violin. Boy Z often sits in front of the flowers and draws under the vines, but in my impression Z seldom draws those flowers. This may be because he hates everything his stepfather likes. As long as M is free, he will always come and stand by and watch Z's paintings in surprise, not daring to show his atmosphere. M's eyes were on Z's pen at first, wondering how his pen could make such an accurate and beautiful line out of thin air, and then M's eyes shifted to Z's body, face, eyes, nose and mouth... It seemed to be coming to Z for a long time. Inquire in every expression of his: He is so young, where did he get this ability? Z felt a painter's initial confidence and satisfaction from M's eyes.A painting is finished, Z unfolds it on his chest for M to see. M said: "Can you give me this painting?" Z said: "What's wrong? Take it!" Always. M took his younger brother's picture to publicize and display everywhere, and proudly received the admiration of everyone. "Did you draw it?" "No. My brother drew it." "Your brother, Z?" M nodded, and reminded others: "He's only nine years old!" (Or "Only ten years old!" "Only eleven years old!" "Only twelve years old!" The siblings grow up year by year.) But this is not necessarily just a reminder, it may be more important to inspire others to support her judgment: Z is a genius, this younger brother, he will definitely make great achievements in the future. M is in charge of things like grocery shopping at home. She spends a lot of planning and can always get a few cents out of it. She used to buy some small accessories for herself, but now she saves it all up for Z to buy him. Picture book, buy brushes and paint colors. Z took these things and looked at M with joy and emotion, but couldn't say anything. As for M, he just said, "It's quite expensive, don't waste it." Z nodded vigorously, and looked at the snow-white drawing paper for a long time. He had seen the endlessly changing pictures, but he cherished it and dared not write on it lightly. M turned to her stepmother and said, "Let me do all the work at home, and let my brother paint his pictures well." The mother was so touched that her nose was sore.The siblings got along so well, and the mother didn't expect it.The mother treats M like her own daughter. If Z's stepfather hadn't given birth to another shady incident, perhaps this family would slowly warm up and brighten up, and slowly become acceptable to Z, and the filthy smell would be forgotten by Z's sense of smell. 142 When the stepmother and Z didn't come, all the water for the family depended on M to go to the street to carry it.An iron bucket was about her waist height, filled with half a bucket of water, holding it with both hands swinging left and right in front of her body to leave space for walking, the bucket moved her right leg to the left, and the bucket moved her left leg to the left. The splashed water drew a series of "Z" characters on the road.I remember that there were many children carrying water like this on that street, and one of the little girls was M. After Z and his mother arrived, the siblings carried water instead. A wooden stick was passed through the beam of the barrel, with both ends of the stick in the arms of the siblings, so that a full barrel could be carried at a time.Later, when the siblings grew up a bit, they took turns carrying water again.But M would rather take on this task alone, because Z is already a painter in her heart. When M often went to the street to carry water, the idlers in that open space suddenly discovered that she had almost grown into a woman one day. The shoulder pole was trembling, and M's body was also trembling. Googo aimed at her.Genetic factors play an important role. Although she has a rough diet and often bears heavy weight, M still has a slender and beautiful figure (from which she can imagine her slim and beautiful biological mother). The arrival of youth makes it plump and smooth. Although her father wears loose and Dim work clothes can hardly conceal the temptation overflowing everywhere.Leisurely people inevitably say provocative words to each other, deliberately for M to hear, provocative so that it does not violate the law, only hope that when M bows his head and blushes, his desire will be dredged a little. Unexpectedly, such a desire was also born in the heart of M's biological father, and it was difficult to dredge up. When M took a shower in the house several times, she found that the person who gave birth to her was lingering among the flowers in front of the window, and staring drunkenly into the cracks in the curtains.Stepmother is not at home. M hurriedly wiped her body and put on her clothes.Once, the person who gave birth to her unscrupulously leaned close to the window and looked in. M dared not say anything, keeping the matter to herself.She didn't know who to tell about this, of course she couldn't tell Z, how about telling her stepmother?I was also afraid that my stepmother would leave the person who gave birth to her because of this. M knew that he would leave him sooner or later, what would he do if his stepmother also left him?The only way to take a shower or change clothes in the future is to draw the curtains so that there is no gap. Finally, one time, the person who gave birth to her pierced the window paper while drunk. M yelled: "Dad—!" The person who gave birth to her didn't leave, wishing he could get his head in too. M was so frightened that she grabbed her clothes to cover her body, not daring to move or make a sound. Z just came back from outside. Z walked into the courtyard door and stopped, unable to understand what kind of drunken madness his stepfather was kneeling under the window sill. The sound of Z's footsteps startled the drunk, and the stepfather turned his head. He was half sober, stared at Z in a daze for a while, then got up and scurried away like a cat. Jing still didn't know what had happened, but saw a big hole in the window paper, and the room was quiet, so he looked into the hole. Z saw M hugging the clothes in front of her, her face pale, standing there motionless and weeping, and Z saw the naked body of a strong and lively woman reflected in the large full-length mirror behind her. Z quickly left the window and shouted: "Sister, put it on quickly, I'll kill him!" (In the future, the painter Z will shout more than once in his dream—"Kill him, kill him!" The night became deeper, and the sleeping Z gasped and made such a voice, which was very soft, but very clear and firm. At that time, I Thinking, Z may have dreamed about his stepfather again. But the female teacher O thinks: It’s also possible, it’s not that simple.) Seventeen-year-old Z did not go to the alcoholic.He ran out of the yard angrily and onto the side street, suddenly felt a kind of man's pain in his anger, the image in the big dressing mirror kept flashing, flashing, making him excited and his heart aching, he wanted to Finding that villain, that idiot picked out the image in the big full-length mirror from those obscene eyes... Z suddenly stopped in his tracks and realized at once that his love for M was much more than his brother's love for his sister. Z walks slowly, through the dust and mud, through the noise of carriages and horses, through the ancient and dilapidated city wall, through the afterglow of the setting sun on the city wall, and he knows that he likes M and has a strong desire for M.But at the same time he felt a chill, a deep fear.what is that?He can feel that a danger is indeed there, but he still can't see what it is?No, no, it's not a legal danger, it doesn't apply to him because he's not related to M—well, he's already figured that out. So what is it?Where does that danger come from?In fact, his sensitive heart knew it a long time ago, but his eyes were covered by self-esteem, or resentment, so that he could not see it. He wandered the side streets, past the tavern and back again, past the vacant lot and its ever-present crowd of idlers.The group of people shouted obscenities, and in the middle of the crowd, a broad-shouldered fool was singing and dancing, enjoying the compliments from everyone.Z understood a little now; he was in this life, maybe he would always be in this life, and this life was like the singing and dancing fool. Z understands a little bit: there are two kinds of lives coexisting in this world at this moment and every moment, one is noble and the other is low. The former always laughs at the latter, and the latter is always in a position to be laughed at .So Z understood a little bit, Z's destined wisdom woke up completely at that moment, the seventeen-year-old man saw the danger clearly: if he fell in love with M, if he married M in the future, then from now on, like a dream The dreamed house is going away from him, and the fluttering white feather and everything it symbolizes will be farther and farther away from him, and he will never be able to approach that elegant and noble fluttering, because he Will live here forever, among the idlers and the drunkard, while that icy voice draws nearer, and that loathsome judgment—the wild child—gets more vivid and truer, more correct. Z walked up the city wall again and walked into the wild grass.He sat there, watching the sun go down and thinking: where should I go? have no idea. He cried. He cried and looked at the gray and yellow street.He closed his eyes, wishing he didn't belong here.Close your eyes and listen to the cold voice, "... how did she bring those wild children in... how did she bring that wild child in ...Who asked her to bring him home...Tell her that they are not allowed to bring them into the house again..." Let that voice hurt his will severely, let the stabbed will make a sound : No, I can't be here, I can't be here, I can't belong here, I can't let that voice be so arrogant, so confident and so proud, I want to beat them, beat them, beat them, kill them... (O will hear in the future that it is not "kill him", but "kill it", although "he" and "it" have the same pronunciation in Chinese.) 143 M finds Z in the wild grass. Z dared not look at her. M said: "Don't tell Mom." Z nodded. M said: "Don't tell Mom, and don't tell anyone else, okay?" Z still nodded. M said: "Really? You agreed?" Z closed his eyes, shook his head and said, "I won't tell anyone." I didn't expect Z to agree so easily, M looked at him in bewilderment, his expression couldn't be seen clearly in the thick twilight. M said: "That person, you don't need to pay attention to him, anyway, you and him can have no father-son relationship." Z is silent. M: "I have to go..." M: "I mean, I have to leave this house." Z asked: "Where are you going?" M said: "Maybe the Northeast, maybe Inner Mongolia, maybe Yunnan. I have decided, no matter where I will go." 144 Soon, M went to jump in line. For the word "queue jumping", future dictionaries should give two interpretations in a narrow sense and a broad sense.In a narrow sense, it refers to going to the countryside and being with the peasants, that is, being placed in a rural production team to work and live like a peasant.In a broad sense, it refers to the movement of going to the mountains and going to the countryside, including the millions of young people who went to the frontier to reclaim wasteland. There are also agricultural reclamation and military reclamation. The former are called farms, and the latter are mostly called corps.Because of M's future story, I have the impression that she went to a farm, the Northeast, Inner Mongolia, or Yunnan. This spatial difference is of little significance and has long been ignored in my impression. In my impression, she was one of the first batch to apply to go to the frontier during the Cultural Revolution.A certain "important instruction" was just sprouting in my heart and before it could be published, M and a dozen young men and women led the trend.The incident alarmed newspaper and radio reporters.Male and female journalists have come to this small street on the edge of the city, stepping on the dust and mud to find a spark that is bound to start a prairie fire.Since cremation replaced burial, the coffin shop in the open space had been closed long ago, and it had been converted into the office of the residents' revolutionary committee.The presence of the journalists made the small Resident Revolutionary Committee famous, and its main job in those days was to receive these interviewers.The residents’ revolutionary committee members and the leaders of M’s middle school mobilized the masses, collected all the glorious deeds of M from childhood to adulthood, and proved to the interviewers that M’s actions were not accidental. This child loved labor, workers, peasants, soldiers, and the motherland and people since childhood… Over the past 18 years, its excellent quality and advanced thinking have been consistent.The reporters jotted down, feeling like a eulogy, and asked to see M himself.The leaders and reporters went to M's house together. M was terrified, too embarrassed to say anything, and she was even so frightened that she burst into tears facing the flashing spotlights.The reporters asked her not to be too modest, and to repeat the excellent deeds provided by the masses about her, and asked her if that was the case? M didn't understand who they were talking about at all, but the leaders signaled her to answer "yes" to any question. M then nodded, nodded, kept nodding, still unable to speak, no matter what people asked.In this way, it took only a few days for M to become a role model for educated youth before leaving the city. As a result, the alcoholic became famous for a while, sometimes being called a heroic father, and sometimes being called a model parent.The drunkard came to his senses and fully supported his daughter to go to the frontier. He stood in the open space and assured everyone that he would never drink again. "The identity matches.Three days later, M was leaving. The alcoholic said, "Zhuang Xing always has to have a glass of wine, and the next one is not an exception." However, it was later proved that his history of abstaining from alcohol lasted for a total of three days. The year, I think, might be 1968.This year, the movement of going to the mountains and going to the countryside began.This year Z is seventeen years old and M is twenty-one years old.It's possible I miscalculated their ages, but that's okay, it doesn't matter.Importantly, Z's half-brother HJ is thirteen, which must have been another miscalculation, but for a novel, this error can be tolerated because it's necessary for a writing night. 145 The reason why Z's mother didn't take Z away from the alcoholic is mainly because Z's younger brother HJ already exists, and she doesn't want another son without a father.As for HJ's age, it should be based on my impression, because Z may not have any younger brother outside of my impression. In 1968, HJ was already thirteen years old. This has nothing to do with the time when Z's mother remarried, but because in my impression, the news of the girl T came again. Girl O and girl N once fell in love with WR and F respectively, which made girl T disappear for a while.Today, Z's half-brother HJ reunites T's form and spirit. The birth of HJ makes the once vague T become a clear T, a definite and independent T.That is to say, in the summer of 1968, due to the obsessive gaze of the boy HJ like the poet L, the girl T walked onto the balcony of that beautiful house again. The girl T walked onto the balcony, the sunlight blinded her for a while, she stretched her arms and yawned a little.The sun cast shadows of water on her eyes, teeth and lips.The river in the distance is quietly transpiring, the wind speed is very slow, and the leaves are slowly turning in the blazing sunlight. T leaned on the railing, staring at the river for a long time in the speckled tree shadows with his arms crossed behind his back.The soft wind blows her, and she beats with one foot, and there are rippling lights and shadows on her beautiful legs.At this time, the thirteen-year-old HJ was about to set off from home. In the name of exercising, he went for a long-distance run. As soon as HJ started running, I found that he was heading in the direction where girl T was.From his home to that beautiful house, it is about three kilometers, and it takes about half an hour to run back and forth—including jogging three times around the beautiful house, and constantly looking up at T's window.This long-distance race, rain or shine, was interrupted for only three days in the fifth year.That year, HJ was eighteen years old. After graduating from high school, he worked as an apprentice in a famous restaurant. When he received his first month's salary, he bought an expensive gold pen and wrote his first letter to T with this pen. Love letter. Therefore, in my impression, the boy HJ has the same image as the boy L, and has the same bravery and infatuation as L. The difference is that the poet L's infatuation was posted on the wall, and the young chef got T's reply. T's reply is simple: I have fallen in love with someone else.We can be friends if you like--just friends but best friends. Who did girl T fall in love with?At this time, the T is still a vague T.If she fell in love with F, she would still be N, if she fell in love with WR, she would still be O, but if she had a lovelorn history similar to N or O, she thought she had seen through everything, so she had It is a unique choice that is different from N and O, then she is really T.This T is completely different from the T dreamed by the poet, it has nothing to do with N or O, she is no longer vague; O will be O, N will be N, T will be T, each has its own choice and its own destination . 又过了八年，在T有了与N或O相似的失恋史之后，她的独特选择是：为了能出国，就嫁给HJ吧。 这样的选择让HJ欣喜若狂。这样的消息让L倍感痛苦。这样的事实让Z嗤之以鼻。 146 青年厨师HJ的长跑总共中断了三天。三天之后他相信他有理由继续跑，并且继续是朝着T的方向。HJ天性快乐，不太看重大脑而是更听信直觉，直觉告诉他只要坚持不懈地朝着那个方向跑下去，T最终必定能够成为HJ的妻子。这样，他又跑了八年。 这八年中，HJ不断地跑向那座美丽的房子，不断地为T修理自行车，不断地期待T能多给他一点儿时间，不断地向T表达爱情和不断地遭到T的拒绝，不断地为T仍然爱着别人而尝尽酸楚，再不断地向T保证他虽然爱她但不会违拗她的意愿，他很满足于作她的朋友——一般的但是最好的朋友。除此之外，这八年中他还不断地为此遭到其同母异父哥哥的轻蔑、讥嘲和斥责。 Z不断地对HJ说：“你怎么就一点儿男人的骨头都没有？” Z不断地对HJ说：“你以为你是什么角色？你知道在他们眼里你是什么吗？” Z不断地对HJ说：“你不过是一个称职的自行车修理工，充其量还可以作她消烦解闷的一台对讲机。” Z不断地对HJ说：“你以为她们真的可能爱上你吗？” HJ纠正说：“不是什么'她们'，是她！与别人无关。” “那也一样！” “那是她的事。”HJ总是这样回答。但是这样的语言，Z的思维里从来不曾有过，因而他永远也不可能听得懂。 “她顶多是对你存着一点儿好奇心，”Z对HJ说，“她把她家的那座房子看腻了，忽然发现还有人活在像我们这样的一条街上。她周围的人都娇养惯了，颐指气使惯了，所以她惊奇一个叫HJ的家伙怎么会这么吃苦耐劳俯首贴耳。画尽了高山流水忽然觉得下里巴人才是标新立异，嘿，你懂吗这就像画画，画尽了高雅他们忽然觉得粗俗也挺有味道……听我一句吧，你毕竟是我的弟弟我才这样对你说，你要是真想赢得她你就得站得比她还要高，懂吗？尊严你懂吗？你要想让她爱你，你就得让她仰望你崇拜你……” “哥，你不是有病吧？你把别人都想成什么了？”这是从始至终HJ能够想到的第二句话。说罢他换了运动鞋，快乐地向那座美丽的房子跑去。 最让Z不能忍受的还是那个酒鬼。Z的继父非常赞成小儿子的行动，为他可能为这个小院联结起那么一门好亲戚而兴奋不已。那时候Z才明白，能够让继父兴奋的除了酒和花之外，还有所谓“高干”，继父敬仰高干甚于敬仰他的酒，当然更甚于他的花。他让HJ把他珍爱的花一盆盆一株株不断给T送去，因为他有一次听T说她的父亲虽然不多喝酒但也是爱花如命。T的父母都是高干。Z于是想起在上寄宿中学时所受的一次侮辱。那么T的父母是什么级别呢？局级呢还是更高？很可能更高。 T的父母是谁？可能就是F医生的父母，也可能就是Z的叔叔和婶婶——不过这可能是我的错觉。但是我没有办法摆脱开我的错觉，我一想起T的父亲，飘来的就是Z的叔叔晚年的形象。 我只知道T的父亲有一段独特的历史，是Z的叔叔所没有的。那还是战争年代，在一条河上，T的父亲和T的伯父都是那条河上的船夫。有一天几个红军到了河边要过河去，而且后面有敌人追来。兄弟俩都是穷苦人而且都赞成红军，哥哥对弟弟说：“你的船把红军渡过去，我的船把敌人引开。”就这样T的父亲把几个红军渡过河去，想想自己已没有了归路，便跟随那几个红军去参加了革命。T的伯父九死一生居然逃脱了敌人的罗网，在外乡流落多年，后来仍回到那条河上去摆渡了。除此之外我对T的父亲再无所知，除此之外，T的父亲与Z的叔叔混淆不清。甚至Z的叔叔晚年的形象，把F医生的父亲也牵扯进去，我的印象常把他们混为一谈。 Z没想到，母亲对弟弟的恋爱也抱了一种好运将临的期待。但在这件事上，母亲甚至不如继父光明磊落。继父自始至终赞成HJ的选择，在T的父亲蒙冤（被打成叛徒）之时他也未改初衷。而母亲，则是在T的父亲平反复职之后，才赞成了小儿子的选择的。终于有一天，历史证明了那个酒鬼的英明，Z的继父便站在街头那块空地上向人们吹嘘：“我活了快一轮儿了，这点儿事情我能看不明白？忠臣遭贬，奸佞弄权的事我见得多啦！（我想他的那些历史知识，一定来源于京戏。）告诉你们，喝酒的未必都糊涂，不喝酒的也未必就明白。” 那一年可能是1977年也可能是1978年。青年厨师HJ仍然坚持不懈地长跑，朝着T的方向。 青年画家在那一年搬离了继父的小院儿，他终于有了属于自己的房子——他所在工厂的一间仓库。Z把那仓库改成了自己的画室兼宿舍。初春，天上地上都是杨花，一年四季画室四周都是商贩们的叫卖声。这画室独自的寂静，将在女教师O的心里吹进一股清风或者引动一场风暴。＿这画室兼宿舍的阴暗和简陋，将令O感动涕零。画室的主人身居闹市甘于清贫寂寞，一心在他的画布和油彩上，其出众的才华和超凡的意志将赢得O的仰望和崇拜。 147 HJ的长跑中断了三天又继续了八年之后，有一天，那个酒鬼收到了一封从挪威或者丹麦——这不重要——寄来的信。信是用英文写的，幸而HJ八年来一直在学英语，虽然水平徘徊不前，但借助英汉词典总算把那封信大致弄明白了。 “爸，你是不是救过一个英国人的命？” 那酒鬼愣一下。 “你是不是在一个英国人家里干过活儿？” 那酒鬼喊道：“放屁！” “妈，您快让爸去用凉水冲个头吧，我这儿跟他说正事呢。” 酒鬼用凉水冲了头，回来问小儿子：“这信，咱是不是得赶紧烧了？” "what?" “弄不好，再算我个里通外国？” “哎哟喂，都什么年月了你知道吗？现在的人，都还巴不得有个外国亲戚呢。” “噢，”酒鬼沉吟半晌，说：“那是好几十年前的事了，我在一个英国牧师家里干过两年，没干别的，也是侍弄花。” “对对，牧师，是牧师，信上写的是牧师。” “他还活着？” “那个牧师已经死了，前几年死的。这信是她女儿写来的。” “他女儿？呵，那时候她才刚刚会走路哇，她怎么会记得我呢？” “信上说，她父亲一直想找到你，说是你在最危险的时候帮助过他们，救了他一家人的命，可前些年他没办法找到你，他知道他要是给你写信，要么你收不到，要么反倒会给你惹来麻烦……” “那是闹日本的时候，日本人不光找中国人的麻烦，也找英国人的麻烦，我带着那个牧师一家人逃到咱们老家去躲了几个月。就这么点儿事。他还说什么？” “他临终前留下遗嘱，让他女儿继续找你。他写下了你当年的地址，说一旦中国开放了让他女儿一定要想办法找到你。” 酒鬼看看那信封上的地址——歪歪扭扭的一行中国字，于是感叹他在这个小院已经住了半个多世纪。 “找我干嘛？” “信上说，她父亲要她为你做些事……” “我没事。我有'二锅头'就没事。” “她还说，你的孩子要是想出国留学，她可以帮忙。” “我不去。” “谁说让你去了？说的是我姐我哥或者我。” “你想去？” “那还用说？爸，妈，我去留学怎么样？” “英国？” “信上说，英国、美国、加拿大和澳洲，哪儿都行！”HJ非常兴奋，“妈，您说我去哪儿？” 母亲一声不响。母亲心里忽忽悠悠的想起了另一件事：应该到南方那座宅院去看看了，快三十年了不知那老屋还有没有，现在开放了Z的生父应该能回来了，也许他已经回来过了，也许他到那宅院去找过他的妻儿了，也许那老屋的主人早已换了好几次了因而没人能告诉他我们去了哪儿……是呀我得去一趟南方了，无论如何得去看看了…… 148 HJ与T终成眷属。T坦率地告诉HJ说：“我对你，可能仍然不是爱情。”HJ说：“可我对你是，这就够了。”T说：“甚至我已经不知道什么是爱情。”HJ说：“可我知道，这就够了。”T说：“你知道什么？”HJ说：“不爱而被爱，和爱而不被爱，我宁愿要后者。”T问：“就没有爱而且被爱的吗？”HJ回答：“那不是人人都能碰上的福气。” HJ出了国，继尔T也出了国——英国，美国，加拿大或者澳洲，这仍然是一个空间问题所以并不重要。重要的是，几年后T的母亲也出国投奔女儿女婿去了，那座美丽的房子里只剩了T的父亲一个人。厨师HJ在国外上了两年学，然后凭着他的烹调手艺在一家餐馆里又干了几年，积攒起资金又有了绿卡，HJ夫妇在唐人街上自己开了一家中国餐馆。创业艰难，他们把T的母亲接来帮助料理家务，三个人同心协力艰苦奋斗，小餐馆日渐发达。HJ的老丈母娘流连忘返乐不思蜀，因而在国内那座美丽的房子里，只有T的父亲独自悄度晚年。 这时T的父亲已经离休，一旦无官无权，门庭若市很快变得门可罗雀。他把所有的房门都打开着，经常的行动就是为了追赶一只苍蝇，从这屋跑到那屋再从那屋跑到这屋，跑遍所有的房间，才想到苍蝇采取的是“敌困我扰，敌追我跑”的游击战略。于是他只留一间给自己住，其余的房门都锁上，相当于“坚壁清野”让苍蝇在那锁紧的房门里慢慢去饿死。幸而有他的老亲家常常给他送花来，同他一起饮酒论花。自HJ和T走后，那酒鬼便亲自来送花。那酒鬼没想到能与这样一位他仰慕已久的大人物促膝而坐，谈天说地议古论今，觉得是平生最大的骄傲。在出国的问题上，两个老头持一样的坚定态度：“不去，哪儿也比不得咱中国好。现在的年轻人不学无术能懂得什么？”于是酒逢知己千杯少，酒鬼照例是每饮必醉，T的父亲每次只喝一两绝不越雷池半步，但他学会了唱戏。 149 我说过，T的父亲与Z的叔叔乃至与F医生的父亲，在我的印象里混淆不清。他独自在那美丽而空荡的房子里徘徊，形神中包含着这三个人近似的历史。如果Z的继父以亲家的身份常常给他送花来，并陪他饮酒聊天，我觉得他就是T的父亲。如果他想到，早知今日夫人也去外国经营了私人餐馆，何必当初反对儿子与一个右派的女儿相爱呢？我感到，他就是F医生的父亲。如果他在那空荡荡的房子里侍弄花草，有一天把所有的奇花异草都看腻了，慢慢又想起了老家的葵林，想起漫山遍野的葵花，想起葵林里的那个女人而夜不能寐，那么他，就是Z的叔叔。 我的眼前常常幻现出这样一幅情景：在火车站的候车室里，两个白发的老人不期而遇，一个是Z的叔叔，一个是Z的母亲，都提着简单的行李。 “你这是，要去哪儿？” “我想，回老家看看。你呢？嫂子，上哪儿去？” “南方。好几十多年了。” 于是沉默，不用再多说什么，他们知道他们都是去找寻什么。