Vernacular prose: Playing honeycombs
Text: Wang Weide
When everyone is young, they will do some interesting things, honeycomb, which is the most proud work of my childhood, and it is also my best play.
I remember that there were many honeycombs at that time, there were on the trees, under the eaves, under the kidney bean racks, in the cornfield... Honeycombs could be seen everywhere, and at that time my courage was particularly great, and when I heard that there was a honeycomb, I was very excited, carried a long bamboo pole, pulled my legs and ran towards the place where there was a honeycomb. At this time, there will always be a group of timid but eager children behind them. The first time I hit the honeycomb was on a locust tree at the west end of the village. Looking at the large honeycomb between the branches, the round honeycomb was crawling with dense bees, and several bees flew around the honeycomb, as if patrolling and standing guard. I circled the honeycomb several times, selected an angle, and then raised the bamboo pole in my hand and stabbed it accurately to the bottom of the honeycomb, and in the instant that the honeycomb and the black and dull bees fell down, I held the bamboo pole and pulled my legs and flew away, taking off my clothes as a defensive weapon while running, and the bees approached me, and I jumped into the river by the side of the road in a hurry...
Honeycomb playing became my biggest hobby and was addictive. Seeing the honeycomb hand itching, not seeing the honeycomb panicking, not knocking out a few honeycombs a day feels that the task has not been completed. In order to show my skills in front of my friends, I have carefully studied various bees. I can tell what the name of the round-headed bee is, what the name of the slender bee is, and the red, black, yellow... In this way, I hit from the village to the outside of the village, from outside the village to the surrounding villages, everywhere I went, the nest was destroyed, there were many honeycombs, the means were naturally clever, the honeycombs were pounded with bamboo poles, the honeycombs were hit with stones, and the honeycombs were attacked with fire. As long as the honeycomb is discovered by me, I am out of a hundred, and nothing remains.
I've had times when I've suffered a lot of losses. I remember one summer, one hot noon, I was eating at home, and a small friend came to me breathlessly and told me that he had found a big honeycomb in the south vegetable garden. As soon as I heard that, I threw down my rice bowl and pulled my legs and ran with my friends towards the south vegetable garden.
It was a honeycomb I had never seen before, huge, twice as big as a normal honeycomb, and the bee was a big bee with a big round belly, and it was the kind of fierce Lou bee. I stared greedily at the sight of the bees scrambling on the honeycomb, thinking about how to kill it, completely oblivious to the danger in front of me. My friend stood far away and shouted to cheer for me. No longer hesitating, I grabbed a large stone and slammed it into the honeycomb. When I turned around and just ran a few steps, the bees buzzed around, and I felt a sharp pain in my forehead and neck, and my eyes were black, and I didn't know anything...
This time to fight the honeycomb, I paid a heavy price. His face, neck, arms and legs were stung by dozens of bees, which can be described as scaly wounds all over the body, and he had been injected with anti-inflammatory injections for five days at home, and now he still has many scars on his body.
Although I suffered a big loss, I still did not change my original intention, and my belief in playing honeycombs was even firmer. I swore that as long as the honeycomb existed, I would fight it to the end.
Time flies, and decades have passed, and childhood and honeycombs have become distant pasts. Although today's children have a variety of high-end toys and cartoons abound, they have not experienced the excitement and thrill of honeycomb fighting, and it is naturally difficult to appreciate the fun!
About the author: Wang Weide, male, born in the 60s, a member of the Communist Party of China, works in Rizhao Radio and Television Station, likes to write, so far there have been more than 300 news and literary works scattered in national, provincial, municipal newspapers and periodicals, many works have won awards.
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