Chapter 3 1. Twin flowers

There is always a lush cherry grove in my dreams. In early summer, the cherry trees are full of bunches of bright red cherries.When the wind blows, it sways like a wind chime, and the wave-like fragrance is pushed farther away. In the dream, the cherry grove was right in front of me, and I was a little girl.Yuan opened his eyes and looked at the wonderful scene in front of him: the cherry grove looked like a paradise with crimson auspicious clouds floating in the distance.I think heaven is probably nothing more than that.A row of fluttering angels sat under the cherry trees.They held flutes or trumpets, all of them blushed, their wings fluttered behind them, and they flew up from time to time, suspended in the sky to play.Sometimes they form a circle again, and a sparkling lake rises from the flat ground in the middle.There is a little girl in a white dress dancing barefoot on the lake. She is as elegant and demure as a swan, and her snow-white neck is a calla lily just emerging from the water.She spun on the lake, spun thirty-six times, her white skirt was full of wind, she flew higher and higher, mournful and beautiful like a kite that lost its string.The playing of the angels became more and more intense, like a spiral staircase rising continuously, round and round, straight into the sky.

I'm addicted to their playing and I want to dance with that girl too.So I ran towards the cherry grove in front.Run fast, across mountain streams and canyons, across lawns and terraced fields.Run straight towards the cherry grove in front of you.It was an indescribable joy, and my face was flushed, and there was a singing voice lingering in my tongue, and I was about to sing.I am as cheerful as a deer, running towards the cherry forest ahead... Why I went to the Ruyi Theater to watch a movie by myself that day, or whether I have ever been to the Ruyi Theater to watch a movie, I can’t remember at all.The disease I have is like this, it often makes me forget some things, or I slowly change the original appearance of things in my unaware consciousness, but I think it is not from my own will, if it is secretly God's guidance is not too much.

This season is very beautiful at the end of spring, and small milky white roses are crawling all over the gate of my courtyard.My dad has newly planted some tender green vines that are as soft as baby hair. It is said that the grapes will be particularly green when they grow out, but we will not know until autumn.The pomegranate tree in the corner of the garden is also growing well. The leaves are in the shape of small scales, shiny like a gentleman with hair oil on his head, and the flowers are like his lover, so red that blood is flowing from the grieving eyes.I like to open the curtains covered with a thin layer of dew in the morning, and look at the gate of the small garden through the mist.I rested my chin on my hands and read from an old Bible in front of me.I often stop when I look at it, pause, and can't read a word.I sat there, staring at one place without blinking, forced to recall the past.But have no clue, what have I been doing all those years?Nobody would tell me anything, the only people I see every day are my mom and dad.There is no way to find it at all, just like the Bible in front of me, it is not mine, and there is a clear and neat small print on the title page: To Wan Wan.But I have no way of knowing who gave it to me as a gift, the writing of the pencil has been blurred, and the faint smell of old paper hits my face.A drop of cold dew slapped down and landed on the section of "Leviticus" that I opened.

Life is very simple, I read some favorite books and try to remember the past.I thought very hard, but still got nothing. Every evening, my father would take me out for a walk.When he came back from the outside, he signed in sign language, because he was afraid that I would not be able to see clearly, and his movements were exaggerated. ——From last fall to the present, my father has been accompanying me to learn sign language. At first, he improved much faster than me. He often made some gestures that I didn’t know what they meant, and I had to keep shaking my head.He slowed down the movements and taught me over and over again.We bought some videos and learned while watching them.This relentless learning continued until April of this year.One day in April, my father took me to the Deaf-mute Association in Licheng to communicate with the deaf people there, and we confirmed that my ability to use sign language is almost the same as that of a person who has been deaf for many years.

I saw my father standing at the door, so I quickly put on a rose-colored net-knit sweater, stepped on hemp-woven floral cloth shoes with no heels, and ran out of the door.My dad and I have been walking along the road in front of my house to the intersection. Sometimes we go straight to eat three-color ice cream at the ice cream shop where the waitresses all wear dark purple sundresses. Many times, the colors and varieties are quite different, but the three-color ice cream is always the signature dessert here. My father said that when I was very young, he always brought me to eat ice cream.I have only liked to eat this kind of ice cream for so many years, and I just feel sincerely kind when I see this kind of ice cream. I still can't remember anything about the past.The ice cream is served in an oval pink dish, in the shape of small balls, and each small ball is topped with a self-admired cherry.So red, the fruit of passion that swells inside.The flavors of ice cream are vanilla, chocolate, and one is strawberry-this seems to be a bit outdated now, compared to mocha with hazelnut, raspberry with almond.But I have always loved it.I don't know why, but I especially like the three overly red cherries.Even an obsession.I like to hold them in my mouth, touch their peels that have lost their elasticity with my teeth, and then gradually force them into the body of the cherry.I seem to be able to hear the sound of their crimson blood mixing into my mouth, that is the only sound I can perceive, clear and affectionate.With a cherry in my mouth, I vaguely said to my father:

"I really like cherries. They look such a red that's about to burst, and make me think of happiness." Dad nodded. But happiness, happiness is endless, but it is difficult to reach far.When I wiped out the residual red of the cherry between my teeth, I thought of it like this. Maybe we turn at that intersection and go to the kindergarten where we were kids.The blue swing and seesaw are too old to guarantee the safety of the children. It is about to be demolished here. It is said that the newly built kindergarten has two rows of colorful swings. When they are all flying, the kindergarten will be like a lively little universe. .The old blue swing here is a simple iron chain with a rough and uneven wooden board.The iron chain seems to have been broken many times, and after re-welding, the thickness is different, so the two swinging ropes of the swing are not completely symmetrical, and the two ends of the swing are tilted up and down.My father forbade me to sit on it. He said to me in sign language, just stand and have a look. This swing is no longer strong and it will be dangerous.But when I saw it, I couldn't explain why, but my heart always burst with wild and passionate feelings, and there was also a burst of flower fragrance and sweet blood smell.Maybe it’s not just a swing, maybe it’s a spaceship flying to another time and space, maybe it’s Cinderella’s pumpkin cart, in short, it will go to unexpected places and see unexpected things. Regarding this, I Almost sure.So when my father didn't come with me that day, I must try to sit on the swing.

This is the kindergarten I stayed in when I was a child.This neighborhood is a place that I have been walking around since I was a child, and I am so familiar with it.But now I can't remember anything. Dad took me to many places, the kindergarten when I was young, the small church on West Gendao Street, and the train station in Luocheng.On the day when Licheng passed the plane, we all ran to see the new airport. We saw the first plane take off from Licheng through a tall glass window.Dad said that in this way, we can go directly to many places in the future, without having to take the train to Luocheng first.

Really, I never went to Lost City again. If it was only by myself, I would fall into deep panic and despair.I beg everyone to forgive me for my fragility, for I am, after all, a newly deaf girl who has lost her memory.The memory of childhood and adolescence is like an organ taken out of my body, and it is no longer associated with me at all.But without this organ, my body is like a huge cavity filled with winds that come and go.Sometimes I feel that the wind is filled with the shadows of the old people, the shadows are light and transparent, reminding me of the slightly trembling wings of butterflies.I put my hand little by little on the air vent in front of my body, and then lightly touched the edge of the shadow with my little finger. It was slightly damp and cold, like the cool back of an insect that was drenched in heavy rain.There will be a distressing feeling, the untouchable shadows in the corners of my eyes, in my cold body cavity, I feel like I will collapse when I press it, like a lake full of pain finally overflowing with its bright red water.The water would come up from my ears, I knew, or rather, it had been coming up all the time, and I guessed it might be the reason for my unexplained hearing loss.

I don't want to tell my parents about these fears, I know they want me to get better too much, but in the end I still tell them, you have to tell me what happened in the past so that I can get better.Dad took me in his arms and gently covered my damaged ear with his hands. For me, losing my memory is probably more sad than losing my hearing.Because I lost my memory, I forgot all the love that everyone gave me in the past 21 years.All the love I received was washed away, so I often fell into a loveless panic.I worry that my mind is too blank to be numb to love. When I watched the cartoon, I saw the story of the story.The square tin woodman inside has no heart.So he will not love.He and his friends set out on the road to find his heart.I hugged my legs, sat on the sofa, and touched my skin with my fingers. I felt that they were like iron sheets, cold, without the warmth and comfort of the heart.I finally cried to the funny tin doll on the silent TV screen.I don't know if I can still find my heart.my love.I am such a worrying girl now, I just blindly accept your love, but I can't give it.

My kindest father cried so sadly when he saw his 21-year-old daughter sitting in front of the TV watching the cartoons she had watched when she was six years old.He stood by the door in a daze, feeling that he had returned to the long, long time ago. His youngest daughter was only six years old, biting a cool candy and watching cartoons intently, because the protagonist's life and death parted from time to time. tears.He looked at her crying so pitifully, and wanted to quickly walk over and hug her.But at this moment they are already so far away. If I went to the movie alone that day, it was not a scene that appeared in my dream, then I should have gone to the Ruyi Theater in the afternoon.However, according to common sense, Ruyi Theater never shows art films, and they will not consider Kieslowski's films.

I watched "The Double Life of Veronica" at Ruyi Theater that afternoon. This is a small screening room. I sat in the last row, stepping on thick melon seed husks and half of low-quality cigarettes under my feet.There wasn't a single light, not even a pilot light leading to the fire exit.On the big blinking screen was a girl, or two, whose eyes bound me like vines.The scene of the dim yellow and falling leaves in the sky brought me to autumn in advance.The girl was wearing a thick and long windbreaker, with short curly hair and very distinct pupils. The sudden appearance of autumn made me a little overwhelmed.I hugged my arms tightly, cold.Usually I am afraid of the cinema, because without hearing, sight is the only way I can guarantee my safety, and in the cinema, in the darkness that is more false and muddy than the night, I always feel that I am in great danger . Few people sit here and watch, the screen is mostly warm red, with white Chinese subtitles flashing below.The Polish girl named Veronica in the movie keeps singing, but I can't hear it.Her lips have various beautiful shapes like blooming morning glory, I can't help but stretch out my hand, and draw a circle with my fingers in front of the void, as if I could touch that lip, as if I could touch that lip, You can hear those songs. ...two Veronicas, one in Poland and one in France.No one knows each other's existence, but everyone feels that there is another self in their lives elsewhere.They are advancing on their own life tracks, but they are closely connected in the dark. They have the same sense of touch, and if one is burned by fire, the other will also hurt.Veronica from Poland fell down on her beloved stage and died in her perfect singing. At the same moment, Veronica from France shed tears in her lover's arms while making love intensely. She suddenly felt Lost the most important thing, in the distance, the unknown is the most important part, so I suddenly feel disgusted with everything in front of me.She was terrified by a loneliness she had never felt before. Veronica in France continued her life as a music teacher, met a puppeteer in an opera performance, and was also a writer of children's fiction.The puppet artist used all kinds of wonderful tricks to lead her to him. At this time, Veronica had fallen in love with the puppet artist. "Speak, tell, tell me everything about you." The puppeteer smiled and said to Veronica lovingly. What is everything about her?Just when she didn't know where to start, the puppeteer found in her old things a random photo of a landscape she had taken in Poland - a girl in a big heavy coat with expectant eyes Looking into the camera, as if seeing the future.But the girl in the photo is not Veronica from France.Veronica from France looked in surprise at the girl who was exactly like herself in the photo, and finally burst into tears. She knew that the girl like her had existed in her life and disappeared forever. Veronica looked at the new puppet that the puppeteer made that looked exactly like hers, and she was surprised to find that he had made two identical puppets.Why two?she asked.I always break it easily when I'm performing - one is broken and the other can be replaced. The puppeteer was about to write a book about two girls, and he read to her patiently: "At the age of two, one girl's fingers were burned by fire, and the other girl automatically withdrew her hand when she saw the fire.  …" ...I was shivering all the time, sitting in the movie theater in early summer but it was still so cold.When Veronica from Poland died, I felt a piercing pain, a pain of sudden realization.Well, she's gone. Well, she's gone. My ears were gradually filled with voices. At first I couldn't tell what it was, because it was like a thick cloud cover, wave after wave.It seems to be the sound of the passing tide, which has been covering my body.Then the sound of the tide finally subsided, and the water suddenly parted from the center to the two sides, and I could hear small voices.Is it the French girl in the movie talking? She said, do you feel me? No, not Veronica from the movie, not at all.She is a lame Chinese girl, standing under the name and shadow of French Veronica, stretching out timid fingers, asking me: Do you feel me? Girls, limping girls come out of the bottom of the sea from the sound of the tide.She is in the shadows in front of me and behind me, in my bright white eyes, and in all the fragments of the plot that I can't describe.Barefoot, the girl curled up her body, like a half-budding bud, a slender twig was inserted crookedly inside a fluttering violet one-piece dress, and she hopped over faintly.She jumped over, her feet thumping on the floor, as if all the bones in her body had been smashed out.The hair fell from the back to the front, going up and down in an arrhythmic jerk like a ruined festival firework. Girls, limping girls are like dolls with broken strings, lost their clear direction and wobbled, but they still have to move forward.She had a watery face, with a particularly white neck, and a pale apple-coloured face.The clothes are so old, only the face is as fragrant as a newly grown fruit.There was a very fragile smile on her mouth, and in the ups and downs of jumping, I was terrified, I was afraid that her smile would fall from her mouth and turn into a puff of powder like a dying butterfly The crumbs smashed to the ground. The girl is still jumping forward in a semicircular arc.On the smooth floor of the movie theater she was as charming as a dying swan.This is my replacement doll that lives elsewhere, this is my elegant mirror girl.Dear, my dear, I finally completely remembered you and all the past. At this moment, I burst into tears like Veronica who lived in France in the movie.I know my dear girl is gone, the missing organs in my body are really gone. My ears were finally fixed, by her.She told me not to be afraid, she said that she was in the sky, in a distant place, but no matter where she was, she could come and be my ear, and she told me all the things that happened, all the sounds that came and went.So here she is again, all around me. I sat in the movie theater in early summer, and met my dear girl in front of the flickering movie screen.I know we are together, connected together, the other end of my eardrum is connected to her, I can't hear because she is gone.She now sits on my right, on my left, and everywhere on me.She stroked my face, stroked my ears, and called my name over and over again, Wan Wan, Wan Wan.That's when I clearly heard it.I finally feel that everything is coming back...