To my dear Mr. Meng

I was in poor health when I was a child. My mother said that I would be sick on time every three months. If I didn’t go to the hospital, I would never get better.When I lived in the compound, if she couldn’t get out, I asked an uncle or aunt in the compound to take me there; later, when I moved, I had to ask my uncle to help.

My mother has quite a few brothers and sisters. She is the third child, with an older brother and older sister on top, and two younger sisters and a younger brother on the bottom.My grandmother became a widow at a very young age, and now she is handicapped and still lives in her old house. My uncle's family lives with her.

My uncle used to work in the factory and seemed to be a good workshop director, but he couldn't get along with the leaders, and he often quarreled with his colleagues and workers so that his face became red and his neck was thick.Later, when a large number of workers were laid off—my dad had already persuaded him to come out, but he scolded him—both he and his aunt fell into unemployment, so they had to rely on their grandmother to help them and set up a small stall to make ends meet.

Their child, that is, my cousin, had just entered junior high school, and when it was time to spend money, the couple brought cigarettes and alcohol to my house.My uncle kept touching my head with his smoke-smelling hand, as if making a wish with the brave Pixiu in the temple.

"The younger Jun, the better. He is like his father when he was young. He is likable. Xiulin, how is everything going at home recently?"

Xiulin is my mother's name.

My mother smiled very affectionately: "Hey, why didn't you tell me in advance if you are coming! I will buy a lot of vegetables."

The uncle looked around, praised repeatedly, stopped talking, and found that the room was extremely quiet, so he couldn't help asking: "Isn't Guotao here?"

"He's gone to a business friend's house. We don't know what time he'll be back. We won't wait for him to eat. Sit down quickly! My sister-in-law sits too."

The hand that was stroking my head eagerly let go, and the aunt who smiled at me with crooked eyes also looked away: "Look at it! It's such a bad luck."

The uncle babbled, and slowly sat down on the chair, being extremely careful, as if the chair would jump up and bite him if he sat on a heavy chair.My aunt kept nodding and sat down in the same posture.

After that day, for a few days, whenever my dad was at home, my mom would always send me into the room and have a private conversation with my dad in the living room alone.They often quarreled while talking, and the voice was so loud that I could hear my uncle's name through the door.

I heard my dad say "deserves it" and "nothing good", and I'm not sure if he was scolding my uncle, but no matter who he said, it was not a good thing.My mother's voice immediately became sharp, as if a blood bubble had been punctured with a needle.

Therefore, whenever my mother called my uncle to accompany me to the doctor, I felt uncomfortable.On the way to the hospital, he always repeated in my ear over and over again:

"Xiaojun, Uncle is with you today, and you have to earn a few dollars less. How is Uncle treating you? You have to remember. When you grow up and have money, you will repay me, you know?"

If I didn't answer, his smoky yellow hand would squeeze my palm tightly, saying that I was not sensible, and after a while, he would repeat the above words himself, and he continued to say it tirelessly, more pious than a praying believer.

All I could say was, "Got it."

He stopped and asked with a smile, "Are you tired from walking? Uncle hug."

When I secretly told my mom, she knit with her head down, without raising her head: "Don't you?"

I said I didn't like hearing him say things like that.He is an adult, he should make money by himself, and rely on others, isn't it worthless?Besides, I'm not his child.

I just said it casually, never expecting to be beaten for it.

My mother used a sweater needle to make my buttocks full of horizontal lines, bulging and ridged, which looked like freshly painted red zebra crossings.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been beaten, howling so heart-piercingly, my mother called me a white-eyed wolf, an ungrateful thing, saying that their family had no father since they were young, and they were bullied by others, all thanks to my uncle being a brother and a father, eating He has suffered countless hardships, and he hasn't read much. The younger brothers and sisters of them rely on him to make their way out, and they will never be able to repay them in a lifetime.

I didn't dare to argue, I cried and said I would never say it again, never dared to again, so she let me go.At night, I hugged the pillow so painfully that I choked for half the night, and I don't remember how I fell asleep.

When I go to the hospital, I will definitely get an infusion, and the time in the sixth grade was no exception.After the skin test, the doctor asked me to sit outside while my uncle went to buy food and asked me to wait for him to come back.

He went for a long time, and I was really bored, so I went outside.There were not many people in the hospital. At the window for the blood test, I saw Aunt Jean at a glance.She was looking at the colorful list in her hand, and didn't notice me. She didn't raise her head in a panic until I called her.

"Why are you here alone? You whispered that you had a fever and asked for leave, why did you catch a cold again? Huh?" She asked softly.

"I'll wait for my uncle to come back. Auntie, are you sick too?"

"Yeah. I'm not feeling well either. So I have a cold just like you." She smiled, "You have to keep it a secret, don't tell Qiansheng."

"why?"

"Because he is afraid of getting sick and being infected."

"He's a coward."

"Yes, Xiaojun is the bravest, she doesn't cry when she takes the skin test." She patted my head again, "Then auntie is going upstairs first, don't run around, the hospital has a lot of bacteria."

I watched her back disappear into the dark corner of the stairs, the hospital was like a scourge, swallowing her and her shadow, even the belt and bones.

I abided by our agreement and did not tell Mr. Meng this little secret, but the secret still spread like wildfire.

In my impression, it was a difficult winter. For the first time, my hands got frostbite from the cold.I heard from the adults that even the wild dogs without owners on any street froze to death.

The children in the compound said:

"Meng Qiansheng's mother is sick and runs to the hospital every day."

"He's already in the hospital."

"Uncle Meng is going to take care of her too."

I asked them what their illness was. Some said it was a cold, some said it was pneumonia, and some said it was a fall from the stairs and a broken bone.

Mr. Meng finished his homework early in school every day, and hurried away with his schoolbag on his back after school. I always asked him, "Has Auntie's illness recovered?"

He only answered one sentence: "It's almost over, my dad said he will be discharged from the hospital soon."

I am so happy for him.Touching the candy wrapper in my pocket, I suddenly thought that he hasn't brought me candy for a long time.

Within a few days, I heard my mother also talk about it.She said she wanted to go and have a look, so my dad said go, and asked her to buy something, don't be empty-handed.

When she went out the next day, I grabbed the door frame, called Mom softly, and asked if I could go too.My mother was putting on her shoes and scolded: "You are not sick, what hospital are you going to?"

He slammed the door shut.

It was September when I met Auntie Jean in the hospital, and it was winter at the end of the year when I saw her again.

Auntie Ling has not been discharged from the hospital, and the children in the hospital kept silent about this matter as if they had made an appointment. Perhaps, like me, they were threatened by their parents' slaps.Mr. Meng became worried, and sometimes I asked him, but he just remained silent for a long time, showing anxiety in his expression.

At that time, my dad's business came back to this city, and together with his business friends, my family returned to a happy family of three.After dinner, I was scratching my red and itchy fingers by the sink, and my mother's voice sounded through the water running in the kitchen:

"I'll go to the hospital again in two days to see Rang Zhiyu."

My dad didn't know what he was chewing, and said vaguely: "What's wrong? Have you been discharged from the hospital yet?"

My mother lowered her voice: "I have a..."

I didn't hear the second half of the sentence clearly, so I strained my ears until I heard her say: "...It's probably only a few days."

My dad seemed taken aback, and his chewing voice became softer: "So fast? How did this happen, the child is still so young..."

What does it mean?Wouldn't it be better to let the aunt?

What about Meng Qiansheng?

When I thought of the Meng family, which only had Uncle Meng and Mr. Meng, I immediately panicked.

It was a weekend afternoon when my mother went to the hospital. I begged her to take me with me. Before I finished speaking, she pursed her lips tightly, which was the posture before the reprimand.

My dad's voice came from behind the newspaper: "Then you take him there. What a big deal."

My mother reluctantly agreed, but she kept complaining loudly and earnestly.When I came out after changing my clothes, she frowned again, scolded me, and walked into the bedroom, asking me to put on the old padded jacket that I hadn't had time to wash, saying that we would wash it together when I came back, and then asked my dad to buy a bag of disinfectant powder .

Walking from the station to the hospital, my face was numb from the cold.The place of the hospital was extremely quiet, walking in the pale hallway, the footsteps were extremely loud, like a big ax hitting my heart, splitting my internal organs to pieces.

My stomach kept convulsing, as if I was about to vomit at any time. I swallowed desperately, and it was wet and cold, like freshly reconciled cement.

As soon as I entered the ward, I saw Mr. Meng's father standing by the cabinet holding an enamel cup, and greeted my mother with a tired expression.The family members of the other beds didn't seem to notice my mother and me at all, and the patients on the beds were all displayed like corpses.

I can hardly recognize the person on the bed.

The shiny head was placed abruptly on the pale pillow, the complexion couldn't tell whether it was sallow or pale, and the bright facial features were stolen by some nasty thief, and the residue had to be piled up into crooked eyebrows, eyes, mouth and nose.And the only pair of eyes that I can recognize are more like glass marbles pressed into the sockets, and it takes a long time to roll dryly for half a round.

The pair of pitch-black eyes saw me and suddenly shone brightly. Her body moved, as if she wanted to sit up, but in the end she just blinked in vain, revealing a half-sorrowful smile.

That expression wasn't even a smile, it was just a grin that made his parched mouth even more crooked.

I could barely make a sound, so I just called out "Auntie Jean" in a breathless voice, tears of horror flowed out, and two gray round spots were smashed on her quilt.

Her marble-like eyes immediately seeped clear spring water.

My mother shoved me from behind and asked me to go out and talk to Meng Qian in a low voice.

Mr. Meng sat on the narrow balcony with his back to the ward.I wiped my face indiscriminately, the frostbite on my hand was prickly and itchy with tears, and I sniffed. He immediately turned his head vigilantly and found me, he was stunned for a moment, and then slowly turned back.

I just found out that there was still a schoolbag next to him, probably because he has been here for the past two days.

Not knowing what to say, we sat muffled, looking out through the exposed red brick dais.The sky in winter is always gloomy. I thought it was going to rain, but it didn’t happen. The clouds in the sky were as dirty as cotton wool that hadn’t seen the sun in decades. Dirty hair, all walking fast.The silence between us became a hand, tearing up the rotten cotton wool and stuffing it into my throat piece by piece.

I swallowed a mouthful of painful saliva, turned my head to say something, and suddenly found that his eyelashes were wet, and the drops of water in the depths of the thick eyelashes changed from small to large, precariously falling, and fell down unexpectedly.

I heard the crisp sound of tears falling to the ground, like broken glass, I don't know where they rolled.The chilblains on his hands suddenly itched and spread to the inside and outside of his body.

"Don't cry."

He didn't hear me, and became a wax figure that couldn't speak, as if he didn't even breathe.

"Auntie will be fine."

I patted him on the back in a hurry, and I could even hear it, the tone was timidly vain.

Mr. Meng seems to be asking me, but also seems to be talking to himself:

"Is my mother going to die? I dreamed that she died yesterday."

Such words are very unlucky, and if an adult hears them smacking their mouths, they should immediately interrupt them before spitting them out.But at that time, I seemed to be caught by something terrible. My tongue was heavy, with a heavy piece of iron pressed on it. I even tasted the fresh and cold smell of iron, so I couldn't make him spit out those words.

There will be no gods and ghosts passing by here, and no one will hear it.I think.

I can only hug him clumsily like my mother sometimes comforts me: "It will be fine, it will be fine. I will be with you forever, and so will Auntie."

He lay on my oil-stained padded jacket, like an animal abandoned in the wilderness, and let out a low and desperate whimper.

I don’t remember exactly the circumstances of my grandfather’s death. He fainted on the way home and was taken directly to the hospital; my grandmother stayed in the hospital for a long time, because the hospital was far away, and I was only taken there a few times by my parents. A few times, and all when she was doing well in the early stage.Therefore, my impression of "death" is limited to the sudden disappearance of a person.

Grandpa’s bed that always exudes a stale smell like sawdust; the teacup on the bedside chest of drawers stained with brown and black tea stains, which still has tea brewed a few days ago; The sweatshirts that go into the closet, they don't know that they will never have the chance to lie back in the closet again.Grandma's things also disappeared from home one after another after she was admitted to the hospital.

A person suddenly disappears like a soap bubble, and things are packed up and disposed of. Isn't this death?What is it for Auntie to describe her lying on the snow-white bed in such a horrible way?

I vaguely thought of what my grandma said, that people are born to suffer.

Let the aunt not make it through the end of the year.

So Mr. Meng lost his mother forever when he was 11 years old.

When the Meng family held a funeral, my parents took me back to the compound.

Mr. Meng still looked the same, and so did the neighbors in the compound. I heard that Mr. Meng’s mother’s family had also come, but I couldn’t recognize them.The adults were all inside, and Mr. Meng sat alone on the stone platform surrounded by a tree, as if watching the snow.

His eyes were red and there were no tears. My name is Meng Qiansheng. His pitch-black eyes only rolled half a circle towards my face, and immediately fell to the snow in the distance.

The expression was almost exactly the same as my aunt's, and I yelled "Meng Qiansheng" in panic.

After a long time, he finally answered me.

As if I had been pardoned, I rushed up and held his icy hand tightly, and he held mine too.A few flakes of snow fell on it through the dense canopy, but I didn't feel cold.

When I returned to the coffin, it was overcrowded and the air was hot and stale.Mr. Meng's father was covering his face with his hands. The neighbors in the compound, including my parents, formed a circle around him. The dim light of the tungsten bulb streamed onto his face. I saw the faces of adults crowded in from all directions. In front of each one, each one has a compassionate expression, like a god or Buddha.

Uncle Meng's throat made a strange muffled noise, as if some monster was about to jump out of it, and I took a step back in fright.He took his hand away, his face was crystal clear, and it was actually full of hot tears.

I don't know why, but I seemed to see a hell-like horror scene, turned around and ran out.

It had been snowing for several days, and the world seemed to be covered with a huge shroud.I ran like hell, and finally fell on a clear patch of snow, kicking up a hail of snow.