Dazhi is gone
Yang Gangliang
Daishi's departure was expected, but he didn't want him to go in such a hurry.
I went to see him that day and talked for a while. When they broke up, his wife took out a bottle of sesame oil and said that it was bought by acquaintances, and as soon as you ate it, you would know that the oil of this house was authentic.
Before the sesame oil came and was eaten, there was a phone call saying that Dazhi was gone.
The doctor said that Dazhi's illness could last for half a year. But less than a month after the breakup, and made an appointment to see him again, why did he leave? Didn't you say half a year? So fast!
In the few days before and after Dazhi's burial, I did not sleep well for a day, and when I fell asleep, I would suddenly wake up, and then I would no longer sleep.
Sleep or not sleep, the brain is "over the movie", pile by pile, piece by piece, fragments of decades, clear or unclear moments, are like the autumn wind through the forest - full of yellow leaves dancing in the sky.
Dazhi was my elementary school classmate, and there was another layer of relationship, we were aunts and cousins. He was a year younger than me, and I can't remember exactly how he called me when he was a child, but I only remember that he later called me third brother, until the day I went to see him, and for decades, he called me third brother by rules.
During the interaction during elementary school, almost all of the memories are blank, like the folder where the "primary school memories" are stored is emptied, and a "leaf" is gone! Before we finished our elementary school, we left school because of the "suspension of classes and the revolution". Such a short time, and such a young age, I really can't leave much memory.
After leaving school, my memory gradually became clear.
Our two families are not far apart, out of the stone slab lane in front of my house, there is a two-eyed well at the mouth of the alley, the well cliff is next to Huaihai Road, turn right and go west along the road, less than 100 meters is his home.
There is a room for five or six people, and the large bed occupies a small half of the room. The uncle was a skillful carpenter, and the space opposite the bed was divided into two floors, and Dazhi and his brothers lived on the "building". When the adults were not at home, I often went crazy with this group of bald monks upstairs and downstairs.
At that time, we were a group of horses without cages, kicking and jumping all day.
Although he is not yet an adult, he has arms and legs, and he cannot always eat idle meals at home.
Both of us were born into a family of workers and farmers. My father was a transport worker, my mother was a member of the commune, and my brothers and sisters were admitted to different nationalities with their parents. Like me, Dazhi became a member of the people's commune. At that time, it is needless to say that the age was not enough, even if the age was older, there was no opportunity to become a worker. But in the production team, there are still some things that can be done, even if it is a child, you can cut the pig grass and pick up firewood, not to mention that we are half twelve or thirteen years old.
We partnered to go scraping. I took a urine cart from the team and walked the streets to find a toilet.
Now, needless to say, children in the city, even young people in the countryside, do not know what it is like to scrape urine and pick up garbage. As for the pee car, I'm afraid I haven't even seen it.
The so-called urine cart is a large oval barrel, placed on the flatbed truck and pulled. In the 1960s and 1970s, such a simple set had to be counted as an important equipment for the production team. Although it has no technical content, it is an important part of agricultural production. At that time, there was little chemical fertilizer, and the nutritional supply of crops was almost entirely dependent on farm manure. The production team would send someone to drag a urine cart into the city, scrape the urine from the public toilet into the barrel, and drag it to the wheat field and vegetable garden. Now that I think about it, it still makes sense. At that time, I couldn't think so much, people eat you eat, people work you have to work, no need anyone to say, see the same, is to go with the flow.
Two twelve- or thirteen-year-old children, operating a urine cart, are both work and games. The two are partners and playmates. Sometimes they also fight each other, and fight a little. Half-sized children together, what fun can there be without fighting?
I was a year older than him, and it was always him who was bullied. But Pi'er was not annoyed, there was no fierce confrontation when fighting, and there was no real hostility after fighting. Crazy, I should drive the car, he should pull the stalks and pull the stalks, and pull the urine cart into the field.
During the time I was scraping, I was most impressed by watching the toilet.
Now when it comes to "look at the toilet", many people will not understand, what is there to see in the toilet?
It was not very good-looking, especially at that time, the dry toilet, neither pleasing to the eye, nor pleasing to the eye, but also smelly and unpleasant. Even so, the toilet still has to be seen. The "look" mentioned here is by no means a peeping at the wall, but the meaning of guarding. For me and Dazhi, having a toilet to watch can ensure a stable harvest. It's not just me and Dazhi who go to town to pee. In "mobile combat" alone, the harvest is always limited, and it is often rushed to a toilet, only to find that the urine has been scraped away. Or just as they were about to shave, someone said, "Someone is watching." Seeing that it was the same way, we walked away with interest. Later, inspired by other people's "look", we also wanted to find a toilet to "look".
In the deep alley of Datong Street, there is a toilet that is quite decent. The walls are made of green bricks, the urinals are plastered with cement, and there is a roof above the squat pit. It's not just decent, it's luxurious. There are also many people coming in and out, and some people carry potties and potty pots to pour urine. Looking at this situation, the output will not be less.
We brought sticks, bamboo poles, straw and straw. The sticks were slanted against the brick wall, and bamboo poles were tied horizontally, and the straw was lined up, and then the straw was made. The extra straw was spread on the ground, and a decent straw nunnery was made. We nestled in the nunnery, watching people come in and out; we watched the urinary cans be filled with empty ends and carried away. The urine in the urinal pool accumulated too much, so it scraped into the barrel and pulled away.
With the "base area", there is no need to "guerrilla" everywhere, not only harvesting stability, but also having leisure. What are you doing idle? Fight. The grass is small, you can't fight a big battle, you can only scratch me, I kick you. Twisting and tumbling on the straw, it is a fierce battle. The energy was almost exhausted, and he trunceed when one side spared.
The grass can't stop the heavy rain, the light rain and snow are not afraid, as long as we can persist, we will persist. Later, it was found that it was of little significance to stay here all night, and it was rare to see anyone who came to pee at night. Think about it too, who doesn't sleep at night?
The dawn was still dangerous. The people in the city are still dreaming, and the urine car is wandering around the streets. At this time, the base area is extremely easy to be attacked. We got up early, the urine cart was pulled up, ran to the toilet, the car stopped as a cover, people hid in the nunnery, waiting for the dedication of the people in the city...
It didn't take long for the duo to disintegrate. I was chosen to be a clerk, and Dazhi went with the adults to work in the fields.
After work, we are still the best playmates. Whether it's catching fish in the water or digging tunnels in the cornfield, he is indispensable when I have him. After work, he came to my house to eat white yam, and I went to his house to nibble corn, which was a common thing.
Later, I went to a distant city to study, and he also entered the factory as a worker. At that time, hundreds of miles felt very far away. Unexpectedly, he ran farther than me - to Bangladesh as a foreign aid worker.
Later, when they started their own families and followed their respective trajectories, they saw less. The information is still common, in the event of red and white happy events, you can also sit down and serve two cups.
Later, he learned to be diligent, who had a problem at home, and helped others to hold banquets. That set of cooks Shri, his favorite is the kitchen knife. Before working, you have to squat down and sharpen the knife, and the sharpening is very engaged. Until someone said, "I'm busy without looking, I'm still grinding there!" The sharpening knife still did not stop, but the mouth said: "Sharpen the knife without mistakenly cutting wood!" ”
At that time, guests rarely went to the hotel, and they were usually done at home. Once I asked a friend out for dinner and invited him over. He opened the menu and asked me to buy it as ordered. Among them were shrimp, and he said he was going to make spoon shrimp. I know about Pipa Line, but I haven't heard anyone pull pipa and shrimp together. What is spoon shrimp? Why didn't you let me buy a lute?
This pipa shrimp, speaking of fantasy and literature, is simple to do, do not need the pipa, there are shrimp on the line.
The shrimp tail is pinched down and set aside, the shrimp meat is chopped and mixed with condiments, divided into ten porcelain spoons, and the shrimp tail is embedded in the tip of the spoon handle. Set it up and steam it in a cage. Then he said to me, "Wait a minute, let's see." ”
Out of the pan, the steamed shrimp puree is knocked out of the spoon, and the end of the shrimp tail is facing outwards, and it is placed in a circle on a flat plate.
"You see, doesn't it look like a lute?"
Sure enough, it was a small lute. It's just that there are no strings, and I can't make a sound.
Dazhi's hobbies are not many, and in addition to tobacco and alcohol, he is raising birds. In his thirties, he picked up the bird cage. I've seen him pick a bird cage on the street. A very narrow and thin flat shoulder, two exquisitely made cages. With the rhythm of the pace, the flat shoulders are bent one by one, and the cages are up and down, like a flower basket on the stage.
Speaking of his bird cage, I really have to give a thumbs up to the master who makes the cage. The cage hooks do especially well! Brass, the thickness of the line is appropriate, the curved trend is smooth, really not picky.
Seeing such a beautiful bird cage, it is natural to exaggerate twice, not to mention the bird cage of my cousin Dazhi.
For his bird keeping, I once heard someone say: "What kind of bird to raise at a young age!" "The meaning is obvious, this is not what young people should play. As for why I can't play, people don't know, and I didn't ask.
Someone else said, "How old is this, stuck in a pile of old people." I didn't see those sixties, seventy, or eighty, but yesterday they picked up cages, and today they are gone. Young people can't follow along! ”
Dazhi ignored it, still carrying the bird cage, enjoying himself...
Dazhi and I usually see each other very little, but it was the eldest brother who told me that he was sick.
Together to visit, he greeted the door of the community. On the way home, we coughed a few times and spat out in the snow beside the road. I saw bright red blood in the phlegm. I thought to gordon. I knew that he was in a bad situation, but I did not dare to speak up.
His family knew he was in a bad situation. He told me that the doctor told him that things were much better. He also said that his health was better, and the day was warm, so he went out to travel and look at places he had never been.
Birds still play? He said he wouldn't play anymore. People say that playing with birds is not good for his illness.
When you break up, meet up and talk to him again. I didn't expect to go again, he actually left!
In the farewell hall, he lay there, unable to see that it was him. Even if you are in your sixties, you have to believe it when you are seventy or eighty years old.
Is this the Ambition?
Is this the ambition to pick a bird cage?
Is this the ambition of making spoon shrimp?
Is this the great ambition to fight with me in the grass temple?
Daishi is gone! Gone too far! Much farther than Bangladesh where he did foreign aid!
Fortunately, we can still see each other in our dreams.
Last night he came again, and we both pulled up the pee cart again, and I drove it, and he pulled the tip. He was lazy, so I kicked him in the ass: "Pull hard, the rope will make you tired!" ”
Twelve-year-old Dazhi, who kicked me but was not annoyed, turned his face and smiled at me...
About the Author:
Yang Gangliang is a graduate student of the Graduate School of the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, a member of the Chinese Writers Association, a member of the Jiangsu Writers Association, and an advisor to the Xuzhou Writers Association. Published works: essay collection "Green Memory", "Notes on Tuberose", novella collection "White Crow", reportage collection "Tianshan North and South Xuzhou People", long reportage "From Peizhu to Zhonghuazhu", long novel "Big Explosion Criticality" and so on. In 2017, he won the "Sixth Purple Mountain Literature Award", and in 2018, he won the "Tenth Five One Project Award for the Construction of Spiritual Civilization" in Xuzhou City.
(Image from the Internet)