To my dear Mr. Meng

Mr. Meng and I are classmates in kindergarten, in elementary school, and in junior high school, and couldn't run in high school.

Kindergarten really didn’t have much to say, and I can’t remember most of the things. Elementary school was pretty interesting. I went to Meng’s house every three days to eat and drink, and slept under the covers with Mr. Meng at night.We slept together on a big pillow, covered with a quilt, head to head, the situation was still childhood sweetheart, pure and lovely.Although I still sleep on the same bed now, the picture is often a bit unsightly.

I like to go to Meng's house purely because I have a good time with Mr. Meng, and let my aunt cook as well as my mother. My mother's cooking was second to none in the compound back then, and even the family members of the military compound next door came here admiringly. She learns from scriptures.

But for Mr. Meng's father and grandfather, I have always respected and feared. Several times my mother called, and I refused to go because of their life and death, and finally got my mother's slap.

Mr. Meng's father's name is Meng Yanbin. I don't quite remember his grandfather's name, but he vaguely has the word "righteousness".I have never seen Mr. Meng's grandma. I heard that she passed away very early. Even he himself has only seen photos, small black and white blurred portraits.

As for grandparents, that is to say, Auntie Rang's natal family, they are all in other provinces, and Mr. Meng is not close to them, and has no contact with them.

As I said before, Mr. Meng’s grandfather and father were both cadres transferred from the army. Mr. Meng seems to be a food dispatcher in the city. The memory of the state-run system is very vague, and I don't know if the specific name of the position is really called this.

The only thing I remember clearly is the extremely abundant food of the Meng family.My family and the Meng family are not really rich and powerful, but they use the name of the government compound to bluff outsiders, and everyone in the system knows what is going on inside the courtyard wall.

Although it is not close to power, Mr. Meng's family is definitely ranked first in the courtyard in terms of food. In the 80s, things were still scarce, and in the 90s it gradually got better, but as long as I left a little bit of food, my mother kept yelling, saying that the number of times the family ate meat every month in the past few years had to be counted on their fingers, and I just caught up with the good times Yeah, I've never been hungry, so I don't know what to do.

I was very unconvinced about this, but I couldn't argue, so I had to scoop less rice into the bowl to avoid leftovers.But when my mother saw it, she was scolded head-on:

"So little, where do you eat cat food?"

In order to avoid being scolded, I prefer to run to Meng's house.Every time I go back to Meng’s house, Auntie Auntie can always come up with various tricks to entertain me. Sometimes it’s steamed dumplings, the skin is thin and exquisitely revealing the color of flesh, and there are oil beads hanging on the greasy skin; There were also cream cakes in those days, the cream at that time was much harder than now, and the light yellow cake rolled with wavy edges, like a young master of the Republic of China with oily hair and powder noodles.

My mother was afraid that I would be too greedy, and would embarrass me outside, and she would always tell me that I was not allowed to eat whatever I saw at Meng's house. Unfortunately, I fell on deaf ears.After eating so much, my height is always under the pressure of Mr. Meng. Although I jumped a head when I was in high school, I was still three or four centimeters short in the end.I firmly believe that this is a debt I owed on eating when I was a child.

Needless to say, the good food eaten at Meng's house must come from Mr. Meng.As the saying goes, eating people is soft-mouthed, and it makes sense, but I still can't really like it in my heart.Mr. Meng doesn't know this. Of course, these innocuous little secrets can only follow me into the coffin.

At that time, Mr. Meng was about to retire and was idle at work. Every time I came in with my schoolbag on my back, I would greet him obediently:

"Grandpa Meng is good."

He often sits on an old rattan chair and reads the newspaper, only showing a pair of eyes from the newspaper, nodding to me, never smiling.Occasionally he would say yes, with a muddy "oh."

Maybe it was an "ah", maybe it didn't open at all and squeezed out of the nose.I don't know because his mouth is blocked by the newspaper and he can't see it.

As a kid I suspected he couldn't laugh at all.

So I couldn't wait to get into Mr. Meng's room. If I lingered for a while, I might meet his father coming back from get off work.Mr. Meng's father is similar to the old man inside and out, with blunt eyebrows and straight nose, and the brows are heavy on the eye sockets. He is not angry and majestic enough, and coupled with his seriousness, he looks like the angry-eyed King Kong in the temple. Heartbroken.

However, Mr. Meng's father will not ignore me like the old man. My name is "Hello, Uncle Meng". He will smile, and when he is in a good mood, he may say "Xiaojun is here".

The voice is deep, like a big tank filled with clear water.

Mr. Meng did the same later.

There is no homework in elementary school, and there is a lot of time to play.Mr. Meng has a lot of books at home, but they are all read by adults. The thick ones are stacked on the bookshelf, and they are full of words.

So we all went to play in the yard.

There are no toys in the yard, just playing around.In the yard, there is a large flower bed made of random bricks, which is long and square, as big as a small pond.The flowers and plants are uninhibited, and some grow taller than us. It is very interesting to explore in it, because pink earthworms and ladybugs smaller than fingernails can often be dug out in the soil.The bricks around the flower bed were covered with a thick layer of moss, which was wet and soft. When the green velvet was pulled away, a few ants would occasionally crawl out.The ants are so small and light brown that they are almost invisible.Where there is no moss, the bricks are also lush green, and moss will grow tomorrow.

In the soil of the flower bed lay fat-headed aloe vera, some of which are very old and white, like the hair of a person getting gray when they get old. Be careful where you step.In the outer circle is the bell begonia, I know the name because the flower always hangs its head, only revealing the light red flower stalk towards people.I always thought it was very arrogant, because it disdained to let others see its appearance, and only bloomed for itself, unlike other flowers, which bloomed for others, eagerly looking forward to praise and praise.

Epiphyllum is also planted, but I can only recognize it when it is in bloom.When I lived in the yard, on summer nights, the big yard was full of friends and companions. Adults and children got up from the bed, shook cattail fans, and pulled slippers. Look at Epiphyllum.In fact, I can’t see anything clearly. The white light of the flashlight shines on the flowers, and the flowers will reflect light, a bowl full of white; some people ask to remove the flashlight, and the big white lamp will turn into a dry lamp. The pearl of the night hides in the darkness of night like an illusion.

Whether you see it clearly or not, everyone applauds together.I didn't know which adult's hand I grabbed by mistake, and my eyelids drooped, and I also said it looked good.

I can't distinguish the flowers and plants in the middle of the flower bed. Maybe it's just a weed, but it grows blatantly and wildly, with a kind of overwhelming style, so I can't decide whether it is a weed or not.

There is also a tree in the flower bed, I don't know what kind of tree it is, it grows so tall that it pokes a hole in the sky.I like to sit on the root of a tree, look up and not see the sky, only the crown of the tree, stretching wildly in all directions, the sky is repelled by it, and I only dare to shrink my head in the crevice.Sitting down, the flowers and plants in the flower bed were taller, and could cover my head. Only then did I realize that the height was my own illusion. The world is so big, and no one can see me.

Mr. Meng was very talkative when he was a child. I asked him to accompany me to drill flower beds, and he would drill with me;Sitting until it was completely dark, there were no lights in the yard, and it was dark. I thought in a trance that he had slipped away while I was not paying attention. Thinking of this, the shadows of the flowers and trees suddenly flowed, clamoring for revenge. I couldn't help but get hairy, and shouted "Meng Qiansheng" aloud.

A voice immediately sounded beside him: "Why are you shouting so loudly?"

I grabbed his hand with lingering fear: "There is a ghost."

Mr. Meng would also be startled and said "go home", and then we both stumbled back to the place with lights before we dared to stop to catch our breath.When adults bump into it, they will say: "Why are you two running around? There is no light, so it will look good if you fall!"

Just before Mr. Meng went abroad, I suddenly remembered this incident and made fun of him: "Do you still remember that you were afraid of ghosts when you were young?"

Mr. Meng actually denied it flatly, saying that I slandered him.

This damned liar.

When I was a guest at Meng's house, I didn't dare to dig into the flower bed, what should I do if I got covered in mud?No entertainment, just go to bed at 08:30.Let the aunt call us, I am a guest, I dare not make mistakes, wash up and crawl on the bed obediently.

In fact, I couldn't sleep at all, and I started talking to Mr. Meng when I asked my aunt to turn off the lights and close the door for us.After the interesting words are finished, think of what to say.

I decided to tell him a secret: "Your mother turned into a swan."

Mr. Meng said I was talking nonsense.

He just couldn't believe his mother was a swan.We privately said that the head teacher was transformed from a leopard, and he believed it.

I said, "Really, I saw her shed her feathers."

"I've never seen it," he said.

"Because she's hiding it."

"Did you ever see your mother take a bath?"

"No."

"That's right, because she will change back in the water."

"You lied to me."

"How do you know I lied to you if you haven't seen it?" I was a little annoyed, "Maybe you also have feathers on your butt."

He was also angry: "I didn't!"

"You have!"

"I do not have!"

"Take off your pants."

"I do not."

"You have it!"

I sat up all of a sudden, turned over and took off his pants.

Five minutes later, the aunt who heard the sound came in and turned on the light, and comforted the two little kids crying on the bed softly.

That should have been our first fight because I wanted to take off Mr. Meng's pants to see if he really had a swan tail.He punched me, and I bit him, not to be outdone.

I was so angry that I went home the next day.How they reconciled later, but I can't remember clearly.

Later, when I grew up slowly, studied and learned to read, my parents had to check their homework, when did the tricks of drilling flower beds and riding horses stop playing, and I didn't think of playing again, but suddenly remembered one day, I just realized it's been a long time since the last time I played.

After the grade was a little higher, the number of times I went to sleep at Meng's house gradually decreased.One reason is that I started to feel ashamed, knowing that I was embarrassed, it saved my mother a lot of worry; the other reason is that the Meng family is not very convenient.

I don't know when this "inconvenience" started, but I seem to understand something in my heart, and I dare not ask Mr. Meng casually.

I moved to school in the fifth grade, and I went to school by myself. One day, I went to buy snacks after school and saw my aunt pushing the bicycle back to the compound.I ran up to say hello to her, and as soon as she turned around, I saw the other half of her face was swollen, red and purple.

I startled:

"Aunt Jean, what's wrong with your face?"

She just smiled: "Buy candy again? Eat less, or your teeth will be broken."

When I went home and talked about this with my mother, she just scolded me: "The kid keeps asking questions! Have you finished your homework?"

I stopped talking.

In class, Mr. Meng was still the same as before. I scratched my head and couldn't speak.After finally getting out of class, he glanced at me: "What's wrong with you?"

I excused myself to go to the toilet.

As soon as I entered the toilet, I happened to meet a few children in the courtyard. As soon as they saw me, they immediately beckoned me to go over mysteriously.I was surprised by this long-lost intimacy, and as soon as I walked by, one of them asked:

"Do you know about that?"

There was an involuntary "click" in my heart, and my voice trembled for no reason:

"what's up?"

"You don't know?"

They showed the expected surprise.

"Meng Qiansheng's parents are getting divorced."