Text: Li Yanlin
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When I was young, my family still lived on the East Ridge of the village, less than two miles from the village. The road was winding and potholed, like a yellow shoelace. On both sides of the road are dense weeds, and further out are dense woods and crop fields.
According to the old man, in order to show the rich family the forest and support the family, the ancestors of the old society built several grass huts in the forest, and thus survived for generations, and it has been a hundred years since my generation. When I was in elementary school, it was still the mid-sixties, and the forest was still particularly dense, and the tulip trees, pine trees, locust trees, and cypress trees were very strong and prosperous, and under the trees were shrubs, weeds and wildflowers that could not be named, as well as Chinese medicinal materials such as wood tigers and orange stems. The branches and leaves stretched silently and race-likely, and although they were crowded, they were peaceful and humble, so that the forest became denser and thicker, and the shade became thicker and thicker. Walking on the path in the forest, I feel unusually cool and eerie.
At that time, the school was very tight, and the teacher who taught us was from a neighboring village, with gray hair, a slight fat body, kind and strict, living in the school for a long time, and pouring all his thoughts into the children. When I was in the second grade, the school offered self-study classes at night. The village is very supportive, every night in the classroom to light a big gas lamp, the teacher wearing sweat-soaked sweatshirt, wearing reading glasses, while sitting on the podium carefully correct homework, while answering questions from students at any time. The students are very disciplined, and the troublemakers do not dare to talk about it. The other children lived in the village, but my family was on the mountain. At that time, the production team also organized some activities every night, and the adults either picked up the lamp to learn to recite quotations, or prepared the land and delivered feces, and the parents did not have time to pick me up. The most worrying thing every day is to walk home alone through the woods after school at night.
In summer, the mountains under the moonlight are layered, and the sky is like a dark blue cloth, dotted with twinkling stars. The mountains are varied, looking dark and dull in the distance, like a team of pulling exercises, and the shade of the trees nearby is like a black hole, eerie. All kinds of small animals in the forest, wasps, golden cicadas, praying mantises, crickets, spiders, butterflies, frogs, hares, weasels, snakes, etc., sometimes make a little noise around them. The wind blew through the forest, the leaves were restless, and even the strong sorghum and corn in the field frightened you to push me and rub it, rustling. The rustling of leaves and crops and footsteps was entangled, as if someone was following behind. Sometimes, stepping on a soft toad under your feet will be frightened to jump as high as you can, pull out your legs and run fast. But no matter how fast you ran, the voice still followed behind.
I distinctly remember that it was a dark night with five fingers out of sight, thunderstorms, lightning bolts flying in the sky, and the road had been washed away by water. I ran home with my school bag on my back, mud on the soles of my feet and legs. On the south side of the mountain road is a woodland clustered with countless graves. According to the old people, the ghost fire was the wandering of the souls of the dead. Many people got lost in the grave forest and were led by ghost fire in a circle in one place. According to the country, it is covered by ghosts, and it is impossible to walk out of the ecstasy array without firelight. There were many bushes growing around the grave and on the head of the grave, some of which looked like standing people shaking. Remembering those ghost stories, looking at the surrounding scenery, listening to the birds in the forest and the sound of water flowing, I only felt that my scalp was numb, my whole body was trembling, I was embarrassed to move, and tears quietly poured into my eyes. At this moment, there was a dark thing, scurrying in the trees on the side of the road, and I quickly bent down to touch a large rock. It must have been a wolf, and the old people often said that wolves love to eat children the most. My heart suddenly went up to the throat eye, standing there and not daring to move, just waiting to fight with the wolf. Suddenly, the wolf rushed out! I was about to throw a stone when I heard a familiar bark, is it my old yellow dog?! I shouted "Yellow—" in confusion, and just as I hesitated, the old yellow dog ran up to me. I fixed my mind on it, the old yellow dog had long been soaked by the rain, it shook the water on its body, and even stretched out its front paws to pounce on me, sniffed, licked my face with its tongue, and then hummed, wagged its tail, and circled around me a few times. It was beyond my expectations. I threw the stone away and stroked its head so hard that I couldn't tell how happy I was. The dog was particularly sensible, probably worried and frightened me, and in order to apologize, he ripped off my bag with his mouth, picked it up and ran in front of me, opening the way for me. Without taking a few steps, the cries of wolves came from the mountains in the distance. The cry was so creepy that it made me feel bone-chilling on that hot summer day. The old yellow dog was also a little afraid, ran back, threw the bag to me, stuck it to my body, straightened its tail, and hurriedly accompanied me home while barking. By the time we got home, my clothes were covered in rain and cold sweat, and my whole body was shaking. The old yellow dog was also lying on the ground, twitching its long tongue and gasping for breath.
Since then, the old yellow dog has to go to the east of the village every night to pick me up. There is an old well at the east end of the village, and by the time I get out of school, it is already sitting next to the well. A few times, when I went to the well, I couldn't find it. Who knows it's hidden in the surrounding trees or in the corners of the wall. It mischievously played hide-and-seek with me and suddenly gave me a surprise. At this time, I hung the bag around its neck, and it ran for a while, sitting in the middle of the road waiting for me for a while. When I catch up, it runs a little longer, and then waits for me a little longer. Sometimes I stroked it, straightened its soft fur, and walked back one by one. Since then, I have no longer walked at night, nor am I afraid, but I have added a few children's fun and calmness.
The old yellow dog became my good friend and companion. Whether it is spring, summer, autumn and winter, or wind and frost, rain and snow, whether it is the moonlight, or the five fingers are missing, on the path in the forest, the old yellow dog is like a loyal guard, escorting me through that unforgettable learning career. When I was in high school, my old yellow dog coughed often because of his old age and infirmity, and he couldn't get up when he lay on the ground. The family rushed around, trying to help adjust their diet and change the grass underneath, but it still left this world peacefully on an early winter night. At dawn, I ran to shake it, it was no longer moving, and my tears suddenly poured out of my eyes, shouting: "Yellow is dead; yellow-dead-!" "The whole family is very heartbroken, and no one has the heart to eat breakfast. At that time, the people in the mountains were poor and could not smell the smell of meat for a long time, and the kind neighbors came to persuade them: cut the skin off, cook it for the children to eat; the neighboring village sellers of dog meat also came to the door: "You are not willing to eat it yourself, just sell it to me!" ”。 Our whole family was shaking their heads, and I yelled out: You roll, you roll! When it was late at night, my second uncle wrapped up the old yellow dog and quietly buried it deep in a ravine that no one knew. Looking back on those years now, I still can't hide my gratitude for the old yellow dog in my house.
I miss that old yellow dog in my house!