Chapter 10 Second daughter born - 2

comrades help each other There is a 120 bass "Dongfanghong" brand accordion in the Cultural Palace, which is left untouched in a corner.He took it to his office, and took it out when no one was around.The piano is old, the sound is hoarse, and the bellows is also leaking. The hissing wind is mixed with the dumb piano sound from beginning to end, like a sigh.He lightly pressed the keys, and let the bellows open and close naturally, making a hissing sound, and his heart was inevitably melancholy.I have no fate with the cello in the end, it is God's will, and there is nothing I can do.What can be relieved is that the whole family left the county after all, and arrived in this medium-sized city, and it is also a unit owned by the whole people.The woman was in the publicity team of the film company. After three months, the company allocated a two-bedroom apartment.Many employees who have worked for more than ten years do not have such treatment, which shows that their work and popularity are very good.The eldest daughter went to elementary school, and the youngest daughter also entered the kindergarten of the film company.Although she was separated from her beloved cello, the work in the Cultural Palace was easy and comfortable, and she didn't need to go out, which saved the husband and wife from the pain of separation.In all fairness, it is enough.He was originally a person who had no extravagant expectations, and rarely had extravagant thoughts, as long as he was safe.He often thinks about taking a step back.There is no cello, but there is an accordion to touch from time to time, and I am content.

The Cultural Palace is a newly built house, facing the street is the Cultural Palace Theater, which sells tickets to the outside world, with large billboards and small film schedules.Under the advertisement, there was a small iron gate with a narrow sign marking the location of the Palace of Culture. Due to the publicity of the advertisement, the wooden sign was almost buried so that it could not be seen.Entering through the iron gate, it becomes wider again, with a large courtyard and a two-story building.There are libraries, entertainment rooms, rehearsal fields, etc. in the building, as well as several leadership offices.Go through a doorway on the ground floor, pass the boiler room and the kitchen, and you will find a very small backyard. There is a row of bungalows facing south, which is the office.The Qunyi group he was in was one of them, and there were two of them including him.The office was originally placed facing each other, but he was extremely bad at sitting face-to-face with a stranger so close, so he excused the light problem and put his desk against the west wall, and the man had to lean against the east wall.From then on, the two sat back to back, each sitting facing the wall, and he felt relaxed and at ease.A corner of my own house was arranged under the west wall, a small shelf of books and periodicals was placed on the desk, a small rope was pulled, and towels were dried, a soap box was placed on the window sill, and a pot of asparagus was raised.Under the glass plate was pressed a landscape painting of fields and shepherds, symbolizing the open world.Facing these, he forgot everything behind him.

There are jobs here, if you want to do it, if you don't want to do it, you don't have it, and he prefers one thing more than one thing less, and he would rather be bored and depressed than find something to do.So, apart from tutoring one or two hopeless amateur cellists, he had little else to do.He hardly understood what the responsibilities of the Qunyi Group were.Colleagues said to him: Don't look at the idleness at the moment, it will be busy at the mass performance.But it will be played once and I haven't met yet.Right now, factories and villages are focusing on production, and it is the off-season for mass literature and art. He is also happy to be free, so he often plays the accordion.The sound of the accordion was like crying, but it carried far away.Especially in the quiet afternoon, almost the whole yard can hear it.

Her typewriter was placed in a small north-facing room on the second floor, the window faced the yard, and the sound of the piano could be heard clearly.She was sitting on a high stool in front of the typewriter, knitting a sweater, and when she heard the sound of the piano, she turned her head to look.Sometimes when the door is open, a thin and pale man can be seen sitting facing the wall. He plays the violin in a strange posture, his head almost resting on the violin case, motionless as if asleep.The piano is ringing, although it is hoarse but very gentle.She turned the high stool around, facing the yard, as if watching a play.The hands are still knitting quickly, and there is absolutely no wrong needle. They are also knitting complicated patterns, and they will be on their bodies in a few days.When wearing a new pattern, the old pattern has been dismantled into threads, washed and dried to straighten, and another pattern is started.But a week later, it looked brand new again.That's why she has endless new clothes and endless patterns. The "Gang of Four" was overthrown, and the happiest thing for her was that the road to dressing up was broadened.Hairstyles, clothing, and cosmetics are colorful and changing with each passing day, making people breathless, excited and nervous to catch up.Her enthusiasm for life doubled, and her wisdom and vitality were fully mobilized.She has a special sensitivity to all new styles, and is very good at comprehending by analogy, and is bold and innovative, so she is the first-class fashion, but it is absolutely impossible to tell which trend she conforms to.She is always unconventional and never wants to be like others.Someone once knitted a sweater with the same pattern as her newly knitted pattern, and she angrily tore down the newly knitted sweater.And when she took off the man's sweater and looked at his own again, she suddenly felt overshadowed and very boring.Women like clothes, and they often like to wear them on others, not on themselves.But she has a unique sensitivity, just like the conductor of the orchestra reads the score, and the music sounds in her ears. When she sees a piece of cloth, the dress transformed from the cloth immediately appears in front of her eyes, and she is properly worn on it. image of oneself.In the knowledge of being a woman, she has unlimited imagination.If it weren't for her fashion, this city would probably be far behind.

She has long hair, only half-permed.Shawl hair is popular in the street, but she parted her hair from the middle, braided a braid tightly against her scalp, and hung it behind her head. It was simple and quiet, showing the beauty of her hair all over her body.On the contrary, the shawl hair on the street looks disheveled and useless, as if she just came out of the bath.With braids hanging down her head, she was wearing a navy blue woolen sweater, navy blue trousers, navy blue leather shoes, and only a necklace of red beads on her neck where the low neckline was exposed.The necklace was made of very cheap glass beads, but it was so bright and eye-catching when worn around her neck, it played a finishing touch.The things on her body can never be calculated by value, there can only be one standard, beautiful or not.She was knitting creamy yellow wool in her hands, admiring the sound of the piano in her ears, and looking at the dreaming person playing the piano in the door on the other side of the yard. She thought it was very interesting, and thought to herself, why not go quietly and scare him.Thinking about it this way makes me a little happy.He rolled up the wool, wrapped it together, put it under his armpit, and went downstairs.Walk through the boiler room and kitchen, across the empty yard, towards the office.

When she reached the door, she slowed down, thinking about how to scare him, but before she could make up her mind, she had already reached the door.He didn't notice it at all, and with his head down, he touched the keys of the piano with his fingers sleepwalking, and he felt one sound after another, forming a nice tune.She couldn't bear to disturb him, so she leaned against the door frame, clamped the ball of thread under her armpit, and knitted the wool one by one. After a pause, he raised his head, saw her, was slightly startled, and asked, "Looking for me?" She nodded seriously: "I'm looking for you."

He stood up, buckling the belt of the bellows. She stuck the finished needle in her hair twice, pulled it out again, and twisted the wool twice with her little finger: "Listen to you playing the violin." She said. He sat down and undid the leather buckle again, and the bellows immediately dropped down.He tightened the bellows, and supported the keyboard with his right hand: "Blind lala." He said. "Just listen to your nonsense." She said, stepped across the threshold, pulled a chair and sat down. "I don't dare to pull it like this." He held the keyboard, and as if his back was tired, he sent the belt over his shoulder again.

"Humility," she said. He laughed instead: "It's not modesty. I didn't play the accordion. I learned the cello!" "I know," she said.The ball of thread fell down and rolled under the desk, so she had to pick it up.Half-kneeling, she stretched her arms to reach under the table, her neck was tilted, and the sunlight from the west window shone on half of her face, reflecting the outline very beautifully.She finally picked up the ball of thread, blew it with her mouth, clapped it with her hands, and sat down to continue weaving. "Knitting yarn?" He asked, trying to find something to say, so as not to look too embarrassed, but she became fierce:

"You can play the violin, but I can't knit!" "That's not what I meant." He quickly argued, but thinking that her words were really outrageous and unreasonable, and she said the outrageous and unreasonable words so confidently, it was hard to blame her.It was a bit funny, but he was afraid of making her angry by laughing, so he lowered his head and continued to touch the piano.The piano sounded intermittently.It was very quiet around, no one was in the office next door, they all went out. "If you want to pull, pull it in a serious way, don't do it like this, it's like a cramp," she said.

He closed the bellows and started playing a tune from the beginning.Thinking of her speaking as if giving orders.The order was spoken by her very normally, but it was difficult for people to disobey. She knits quickly, staring at his hands.Looking at the left hand and then the right hand, looking at the right hand and then looking at the left hand, he doesn't talk too much.After the end of the song, he said: "I think, among all the instruments, the accordion is the most difficult." "Why?" he asked. "Think about it, you have to play with your right hand, you have to play with your left hand, and you have to pull the bellows. It's not the most difficult thing to do with two hands." She said indisputably.

He couldn't help laughing.Looking at her, she was knitting quickly in her hands. After knitting a needle, she inserted the needle into her hair and began to count the needles: "One, two, three, four..." Although she didn't look at him, she knew that he must be watching Own.Although there are countless men who have been conquered by her, the loving eyes still make her happy. She counts needles slowly: "Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen..." Counting slowly on purpose, so as to make the men feel happy. It is a kind of enjoyment to look at it for a long time. But his eyes did not dare to stay for long.Naturally, her silly remark amused him.Saying something stupid is a woman's intelligence, and a woman who always speaks only intelligent words is actually very stupid.He lowered his gaze, and looked at her again. The black hair was divided into two sides by a snow-white slit, and a bamboo needle was carelessly inserted in the hair.When she finished counting the stitches and raised her head, he averted his eyes and played the piano again. But she is far from the kind of person who can listen to the piano quietly.Sitting in front of the typewriter and listening to the piano is originally out of boredom and helplessness.Now, with someone and a man in front of her, she wanted to talk. "Where are you from?" She interrupted him, with no regard for politeness. He then told her where he was from. "Are your parents there?" she asked. He had to tell. "How many brothers and sisters? Are they all working?" He said one by one.Since he had too many brothers and sisters, he talked for a long time, but she was impatient, interrupted him, and asked the next question.He only had the ability to parry, but he didn't feel disgusted, thinking it was very natural.Because of her liveliness, the empty afternoon became more lively.The sun gradually moved over, and the bell rang, and they stood up, each preparing to go home.She went out the door ahead of him, walking quickly in front of him, knowing that he was not far behind her, knowing that he was looking at her, and knowing that he liked her a little, she was very happy in her heart.He deliberately walked away in a serious manner, as if he had some urgent task waiting, stopped talking to him, and went straight upstairs.Her little innocence and affectation did not escape his eyes; her vivacious appearance was always in his heart, which made him feel a little secretly happy. A few days later, he took advantage of the roommate to go out and took out the piano again. After playing for a while, she came again.Hearing her coming, people from the next office all came over to talk to her, and the office was very excited.He couldn't get in his mouth, so he played the piano gently by himself, but he listened to her teasing with others one by one.She was not impatient, angry, or unexpected.People say: "Princess, let's go to the folks!" People call the leadership office on the second floor the upper floor, and the one-story house is the lower floor. She answered unhurriedly: "If you want to leave, won't you let me go?" "How can it be? Do you want to lay a red carpet and present flowers?" She smiled and said, "Yes, do you have it?" Knitting quickly. The man changed the subject and said, "Why do you wear a big braid and look like a villager, retro?" She said, "I love it, can't I?" "Why not, let's make a big flowered jacket tomorrow!" "Are you pulling the cloth for me?" she asked. "I want to talk about it, but what kind of name is it?" The man set a trap. But she didn't realize it: "Comrades help each other."