My home is in the northernmost part of Northeast China, Heilongjiang. The Middle East Railway broke into Songnen Plain, split the dense grassland forest and crossed the green swamp. Many adobe houses, brick houses or brick-concrete houses are surrounded by both sides of the railway, forming counties and towns. In the late 1960s, I was born in an adobe house on the east side of Anda County Railway. 1 1 In the middle of the month, it snowed heavily that day.
Mother often mentions the day when I was born. Because the chimney was blocked by snow, and the room was full of soot, my mother and the doctor who came to pick up the takeaway were coughing, so my father climbed onto the roof and got through the chimney. When the chimney passed, my father came down. When I heard that I was born, I went into the house and opened the cotton curtain to smile at my mother. My mother said that when my father laughed, only the exposed teeth were white, and even the whites of his eyes were blackened. Mother often said at that time: What's the use of having you? Cook the meal in the morning, put it on the stove, and then do other things. When you hear the howl of the pig outside, you know that you have finished eating and rode the pig to school. At that time, there were people raising pigs in the alley next to the school. Pigs remember to eat but not to fight. They look for food on time according to a fixed route every day. After passing through my hutong, it became my exclusive car. Mom said that when you hear the sound of chickens flying and dogs jumping, you will know that you have left school and entered the hutong, and you can figure out how far you are from home. Usually at home, children open the door every once in a while to complain.
At that time, every family had many children, and their parents could not control them. Most boys are naughty and dare to run wild. I am in a primary school, and the head teacher is a middle-aged female teacher, surnamed Li, from enrollment to graduation. All the boys were beaten for being naughty. Not only fists and slaps, but also pointers, blackboards, kitchen hooks and wooden wrenches are handy punishment tools, so that I still dare not look straight into Miss Li's sharp eyes in graduation photo after I was promoted to junior high school.
In the second grade of primary school, at the end of 1970s, there was a time when materials were very scarce and exercise books were out of stock. My mother rode her bike to a distant place and found a small shop, but she still came back empty-handed. I cried, because I didn't finish my homework, and I was punished more seriously than being naughty. I cried and hit the newly paved brick floor with a wooden stool. My mother was afraid of hurting the brick, so she hit me on the edge of the kang, but she also knew that the problem could not be solved. Finally, my mother thought of a way to find out the kraft paper that is usually preserved, cut it according to the size of the exercise book and bind it. I want to write my homework on the kraft paper. My sister and brother slept for a long time that night, and my mother accompanied me to finish my homework.
The teacher always corrects homework in the first class, which is our most nervous class. We ask the students to correct in front of the podium one by one, or praise them for getting their homework back to their seats, or do it directly. By the time my name was called, more than a dozen students had been beaten and punished in front of the blackboard. Some bowed their heads and cried, afraid to make a sound, and their noses hung down from their faces for a long time, afraid to wipe them. My heart was in my throat, and I stood in front of the platform with my head down. I haven't heard the teacher for a long time. I secretly looked up at my exercise book. There are many check marks on the kraft paper, only one X, and the teacher's red pen stops on the question. Finally, the teacher said, you can do this problem because the careless answer is wrong. Let me correct it for you. You are still right. Then he changed my answer, crossed out the X and put a tick. Finally, I got a red mark at the top of the exercise book. The teacher asked me to take my exercise book back to my seat and said sternly, Don't be careless next time!
This is my first time to get a hundred points, and I can't help but be elated. From then on, taking a 100-test has become the norm in primary schools.
Also in the same year, my father's engineering team stopped paying because there was no work to do. My father sighs and frowns at home all day. Mother didn't quarrel with her father, but spoke carefully. Every day after work, my mother takes me to the wood factory to grab bark and carry it home to burn firewood. She didn't take me to help her, but every day other people leave my mother until they really can't see. The timber factory is very big, and my mother is afraid of the empty darkness.
In the past, parents often quarreled. At the worst time, my father smashed all the doors and windows, mirrors and photo frames at home, and my mother held our brother and sister shivering. When his father was about to go out, his mother whispered to his brother, go after him and hug him. Don't let him go. My brother just recovered from his panic and chased him out crying. My sister and I followed in tears, but in the yard, my father didn't look back. First, he separated his brother's hand holding his thigh. The six-year-old brother fell to the ground crying and hugged his father's ankle. Father bent down, forcibly separated his brother's hand and went out without looking back.
Many years later, knowing that his father was classified as a rightist, he was first sentenced to reeducation through labor and then sent to Anda from Qiqihar. On that occasion, everything at home was smashed because the Rightists were rehabilitated. Qiqihar department store sent someone to find his father to return to his original unit and resume accounting work. But my mother knows that the person who sent it has been in love with her father. She has met her grandparents, and now she is the female leader of the unit. My mother firmly opposed my father's coming back, saying that he insisted on going to Qiqihar by himself, and she and her three children stayed in Anda. My dad won't leave after smashing a phone call. My mom said she knew my dad couldn't leave. My brother and sister are more important to him than anything else. Once my father returns to Harbin, he will look down on himself more and more, because he is surrounded by intellectuals and his mother has only a primary school education.
My father lost his job, and my mother pulled a rickshaw to support her family alone. At that time, the dishes were light oil, and the fish was originally unpalatable. I dare not think about it at this time. The clothes are patched again, but my mother is most afraid that she can't afford coal in winter. On the way home, she told me that your father was the last person in our family who didn't catch a cold. He is too thin.
My father tried to do many businesses, but failed. He burned pictures on fiberboard with an electric soldering iron and sold them in front of crowded shops. He has a hoarse voice and hasn't sold a pair. Later, I walked through the simple incubator to sell popsicles, and I cried dumb, either it was much colder or it was much hotter. Later, I switched to selling beer, which was very tiring and hard. I had to carry a big plastic bucket back to the brewery in other places, and nearly 200 kilograms were carried back and forth by the train every day. Go home in the afternoon and fill the bottle and cover it. Before dinner, I pushed it outside the hotel by bike. Father came into the room to sell table by table, and mother stopped pulling rickshaws. She looked at a bunch of vendors outside. The next morning, my father went to buy draft beer, my mother made a hot pot for lunch in advance, and went to the restaurant alone to sell the rest of the beer before lunch. Parents always wait until the last diners in all restaurants leave and make sure there is no chance to sell wine before going home.
My younger brother went to school, my parents were busy, and my teenage sister started cooking. One day, when I came home from school, I opened the door. I saw red raw pork on the stove, and the basket on the cupboard was full of eggs and soybean oil barrels. Our brother and sister cheered. My brother told my sister that you should cook shredded potatoes and stir-fry meat tonight, put more meat and bake white flour cakes with more oil. Sister hesitated: let's wait until tomorrow. I have to ask my mother if this meat is ours, and even if it is, I have to ask whether it is allowed to cook and how much. My brother clenched his fist and motioned to his sister: Don't ask my mother, I'll let you cook the meat, the more the better. Did you hear that? Sister quickly said: I heard it.
My brother and I were hungry, so we came home with great expectation and opened the lid. It's still potato and sauerkraut, and there is no meat star at all. Obviously, the flour tortillas were not branded because there was a circle of corn tortillas on the side of the pot. My brother and I are neighbors, looking for my sister. My sister and several girls of the same age are sitting on the kang playing karaha. The younger brother couldn't help saying, grabbed a braid and dragged it to the ground, cursing and walking home. My sister is two years older than me, and my brother is five years older. My head is much taller than my brother. As soon as the braid is pulled, he can only bend his neck and say to his younger brother, I'll give you cook the meat to eat when my sister comes home. But as soon as I entered the room, I said that the fire had gone out, and the pot was full of potatoes and sauerkraut. No way. The younger brother was very angry and punched her on the shoulder and arm. The elder sister pretended to be in pain and said, You broke me, and no one will feed you cook the meat tomorrow. My brother really had no choice but to say, the meat will be eaten tomorrow, and now you must scramble eggs for me with my mother's new kerosene stove.
In the evening, my parents came home tired and ate sauerkraut, potatoes and big cakes by the fire. My sister complained to her brother, but my mother said to her sister, just leave him alone. Father called his brother hiding in the corner and asked, Do you want to eat meat? If you want to eat meat, you can't pull your sister's braid, let alone beat her.
Soon, my father turned to selling hardware. Because my father likes reading, he never goes to the bookstore to buy new books. Instead, I went to the junkyard to buy old books and read them by train. One day, he suddenly remembered that he had seen many rusty and bent nails and messy wire in the scrap yard. As long as the nails are rusted and smashed straight, and then sorted by size, the iron wire can be sold at a good price. So he asked his mother to set up a stall at the door of the hardware store, buy nail wire at his own waste station, take care of these waste products all day, remove rust with gasoline, and knock nails straight on the mat with a hammer. Since then, parents have really started the road of starting from scratch.
I am in the third grade of primary school, and I am seldom beaten by my teacher for studying. The first time I wrote a composition with a pen, when the teacher corrected it, he also stood in front of the blackboard and slipped. Suddenly, the teacher reminded the whole class to listen to her read a composition: "As night falls, owls fly from the depths of the forest to the treetops of the fields, opening their eyes wide under the starry sky. They are the bane of mice and the lucky stars of farmers' uncles ... "I think I wrote it myself, but I didn't expect the teacher to read it as a model essay, in heaven." After reading it, the teacher called my name, and I came to the podium with the envious eyes of my classmates. Because my habitual tension is very low, the teacher asked me to come closer. Suddenly, I slapped my face with a composition book with a folder. Then, I opened my composition book and twisted my ears to let me read it carefully. My face is almost stuck to the book. The teacher asked: Did you write this? Did someone write it by hand? Cockroaches crawl with ink better than your handwriting. After I opened my ears, the teacher gave me a score of 60 with a red pen and told me that you passed this time because the words and phrases were fluent. Go home and ask your parents to sign it and see if they can recognize your handwriting. In addition to other homework, I will write a steel letter every day. But the teacher relented and threw the composition book into my arms: don't stand up this time, go back to your seat!
After all, my father is in business and my mother's stall is getting busier and busier. The nails and wire recovered from the thrift store could not be supplied, so my father went to the wholesale market in Harbin to purchase goods. At the beginning, I bought goods once a week and came back by train. I will leave in two or three days. Not only did I buy and sell round nails and iron wires, but my mother gradually increased the variety of wires, electrical materials, paint, door and window hardware ... and later hired a special car to Harbin to purchase goods.
In the summer vacation after graduating from primary school, my home is like a warehouse, full of goods. I saw a door bucket on the firewall. Doors are glass paintings hanging above the doors, which were popular home decorations at that time. The door is painted with fruity peach and plum trees, and the pavilion is hidden. To my curiosity, my father wrote an inscription on the door, in bold, on the upper left-unforgettable teacher, on the lower right-student, and then my name is 1982 Summer. A few days later, it was changed to Songti, and it said on the top left-unforgettable teacher, and the font content on the bottom right remained unchanged. At that time, parents went out early and returned late, which was rarely seen during the day. One morning, my father came home and said to me, take a gate fight and give it to your teacher Li. There are no words on the door bucket, which should be erased by my father in advance. Fruitful peach and plum trees set off pavilions. I said, dad, please take it for me. I'm afraid of teachers. Father said: this matter can only be sent by students themselves, alone. If I let you go, you will regret it in the future.
When writing this article, I remembered my father's words, just as he said. If I hadn't given it to Mr. Li alone, I would have regretted it now.