Shake the prose to the Waipo Bridge

1995 movie "shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake. From the relaxed and lively melody, I seem to see an innocent and happy child skipping towards me with a windmill made of reed leaves in his hand in the sound of immature nursery rhymes. That scene left a deep impression on me and is still fresh in my memory.

I have three brothers above me. They all stayed at my grandmother's house for several years when they were young, and they seemed a little unhappy. If they want to recall their happy childhood, grandma's house is definitely the first choice. Especially the eldest brother, almost didn't go home until he went to primary school. I still don't understand why my brothers can have such a good time at grandma's house.

From the day when I was four or five years old, because my parents had three sons, they didn't seem to pay much attention to me, which made me form a taciturn and cautious attitude, and rolled my eyes and read books all day. Finally, in the summer when I was about five years old, I was sent to my grandmother's house.

I have only lived in my grandmother's house for a few days, and I feel that there is no one to play with me except my grandparents. How lonely children are without children to play with. I couldn't stand the pain of homesickness, so I took advantage of my grandparents' inattention, walked with immature feet and escaped from prison alone along the route I remembered. The narrow ridge dirt road twists and turns in the water-filled rice fields. In my eyes, the rice fields on both sides of the ridge are like the sea, and the breeze blows over the waves, which is endless and shocking. I stumbled on the embankment for a long time, and a drainage gap half a meter wide blocked my way. Looking back, grandma's house is still in sight. I saw the rushing water in the crevice, and I was afraid of drowning and didn't dare to wade in. Standing on the edge of the gap for a while, I felt very helpless, and my flat mouth cried sadly. A farmer happened to pass by, recognized that I was the grandson of Chen Nianqing (grandpa), and shouted at my grandmother's house. After a while, grandpa came running and picked me up and went home. Sigh while walking; The child is too old to support.

At that time, there were many wild dogs, which often appeared in houses, bamboo forests and graves. I'm afraid they will eat them alive. There are several terrible rivers and ponds along the road, and there are often strange calls called coffin birds that look like dogs barking. It is said that those birds have small coffins on their heads and put them in the coffins when catching children. I dare not take any more risks, so I have to accept my fate and give up my escape plan. But in less than a month, my grandmother took the initiative to send me home. The reason is that I am infatuated with the open-air dung jar in the southwest corner of my grandmother's house. I often lie on the side of the tank and reach out to catch maggots in the tank, thinking it is a small fish! Grandma was worried that I accidentally fell into the cesspool and drowned, so I couldn't pay the bill, so I had to send me back to my parents.

As my mother is an only child, I have no other relatives to go to except my grandmother's. When I was a little older, I often took a four-mile dirt road alone on Sundays and went to my grandmother's house to make a living. I think my grandmother's house at that time was my only paradise for life.

In recent years, when brothers get together, they always talk about grandma's house and ask each other if they dream of loving grandma and that familiar hut again. As soon as this topic was mentioned, the two brothers immediately got excited and rushed to recall all the details of grandma's family.

Grandma's house has only two shabby houses facing east, with shabby and pale reed walls and thick straw on top. The door frame is skewed, and the door panel is damaged. The sunlight can pass through the gap of the door panel unscrupulously and project onto the uneven mud floor in the house. There is a dark stove in the kitchen, and there are two burnt candles on the greasy stove. Because of the shortage of cooking oil, put a greasy cotton cloth in an oil bowl full of dirt, and use it to warm the wok before cooking, assuming that the oil has been poured. A shabby wooden table and two wooden stools without arms and legs. Under the dark wooden cabinet is a chicken nest, which is full of chicken droppings. Every time grandma picks up the eggs, she always cleans them with a rag and then puts them in the drawer of the cupboard.

There is a tall persimmon tree and a small bamboo forest in the vegetable field to the south of the house. In autumn, when the persimmons are ripe, grandma will carefully put the big and red persimmons in a basket, always wrapped around her feet, and send them to my house immediately so that we can taste the new ones. But I have been afraid to go near persimmon trees for fear that countless ugly moths on the leaves will sting me.

There is a small poplar tree at the back door, which seems to never grow up. There is a wide and deep drainage ditch more than ten meters away, with lush reeds on both sides. Grandpa was afraid that something would happen to me if I went to play in the ditch. He often scares me that there are terrible drowning ghosts in the ditch and likes to drag children into the water and drown them alive. Although I often stayed away from this ditch when I was a child, this gloomy drainage ditch and the drowning ghost with long hair and big mouth came into my dreams from time to time, which scared me to jump out of bed.

It rained several times and I couldn't go home, so I had to stay at my grandmother's house. At dusk, sitting at the back door, I saw a tall grave 30 meters west of the ditch. Rhubarb dog was crouching bravely, turned to ask around, and then looked at me. Is it to guard the ghost sleeping underground? Or am I in charge? I didn't dare to look any more, so I quickly urged grandpa to close the back door and then curled up in grandma's warm arms.

There used to be a wide river in the north of grandma's house, which could pass several tons of wooden boats. Every time I see the sails floating leisurely on the farmhouses and bamboo forests, I think, which pier will this ship dock at tonight? There is a wooden bridge over the river, connecting the two banks. I dreamed several times that there was a big market on the river bank opposite the bridge. There are many shops and department stores, full of people and exciting things. In fact, it is a farmland, and there are no buildings at all. After listening to what I said in my dream, Grandpa told me seriously that his grandfather had reminded him that there was indeed a ghost market, and many unlucky people had witnessed this lively ghost market when they passed by in the dark. Then he seriously warned me not to go near that place as soon as it was dark, for fear that I would be haunted. So every time I pass that wooden bridge, even if it is sunny or daytime, I am often too scared to breathe, just want to escape from that mysterious place as soon as possible.

My grandfather can get a haircut. My mother said that when he was young, he often traveled to Qidong, Rugao and other counties in Jiangsu, set up a shop for a haircut and never went home all the year round. After making money, I eat, drink, gamble and fight chicken. I almost never subsidize my family and let my grandmother take my young mother through the years. Grandma took my mother across the river to find him. Not only did she not get the money, but she even had to pay him back. Grandma was so angry that she tied a piece of white cotton to her head several times, tied a piece of white cloth to my mother's head and swore that he was dead and gave him Dai Xiao in advance.

Later, when my grandfather was old, he stopped going out and farmed at home, but he still kept the habit of drinking morning tea. Every afternoon before dark, grandpa clamored for dinner, went to bed after eating, put on clothes after waking up, stretched out his hand and gave his grandmother eighty cents, and went to town to have tea with his basket, whether it was dawn or late at night. That's true, no matter the cold or the heat, the thunder will not move, rain or shine. Therefore, my grandmother often spoils my grandfather's habit of drinking tea: eight points for chamber pot. In fact, grandpa's drinking tea is fake, but joining the teahouse club in the town is real. Before the 1960s, when information was relatively closed, there were few places where farmers got social information, and only teahouses where people came and went circulated a lot of news information. For example, which father-in-law tried to pick the dust and was beaten by his son on the big stove, which family's child was unfilial and caused the old man to starve to death in bed, and Jiang Guangtou got bayberry sore and Song Meiling took the opportunity to sleep with Truman.

Grandpa gets up every day and walks five miles to the teahouse in town for tea. I always cough when I pass by my house. Several times, my father heard grandpa's cough and sighed. 12 It was just after midnight, and he went so early that he couldn't even find a ghost in the town. I know my grandfather doesn't have a clock, and I won't judge the time according to the laws of the moon and constellations. All I know is that I woke up and ran to town. Several times, my grandfather went too early, so he had to go back to my house, squeeze into any grandson's bed, take a nap for a while, and then he couldn't wait to go to town.

When we were young, grandpa often told us terrible ghost stories. As we spoke, a plot was told with our eyes and nose, which scared us to lie in bed trembling. But he doesn't believe in ghosts. We asked Grandpa several times, "How many haunted cemeteries and bushes do you pass every night? Have you never met a ghost once? " Grandpa snorted and replied disdainfully, "I've never seen it, and I don't believe it."

Oh, my God. Grandpa was afraid that it was not safe for us to run around, so he deliberately made up stories to scare us.

Grandma only gives grandpa eighty cents a day and does nothing else. So grandpa carried grandma on his back several times, touched the rice jar and scooped up a bowl of white rice, took it to a restaurant or replaced it with a bowl of Yangchun noodles or two fried dough sticks, and sat in the teahouse and enjoyed it with relish. Therefore, grandma only guards grandpa like a thief, making secret signals on the rice jar every day. Grandpa will be scolded by grandma if he finds the mark passive one day. However, as far as I can remember, grandpa never refuted, admitted or denied, just pouted and sat there without saying a word.

1976 On the tenth day of the first month, grandma sat at the door and cut chicken feed with a kitchen knife. Neighbors found nothing on the chopping block in front of grandma, but grandma kept cutting, feeling that the situation was wrong, and immediately ran to my house to inform my mother. When my mother rushed back to her mother's house, she found that her grandmother had been put to bed by her grandfather. The barefoot doctor in the country came to check and announced: a sudden stroke. I asked the company for a week's leave immediately after I heard the news. I came back from Shanghai by boat and by boat alternately, went straight to grandma's bed and cried repeatedly with tears: "Grandma, open your eyes and look at me. I am your grandson Si Er. " Grandma lay on her back in bed, motionless. However, a cloudy tear slowly seeped from the corner of her eye and rolled down the corner. I saw that my grandmother was still conscious, so I quickly opened a banana, pinched one and fed it to her mouth. After a while, the banana slipped out along the saliva, and my tears rolled out at once.

It was very cold that spring, and it was often windy and snowy. My brothers and I stayed with my mother at my grandmother's house for a few days, watching my classmates and barefoot doctors hang salt water on my grandmother. At night, spread a thick layer of straw on the ground beside grandma's bed and wrap a quilt to resist the wind and snow coming in from the gap in the reed wall. When the holiday came, my mother urged me to go back to work in Shanghai. A few days after I left my grandmother, my relatives called me; Grandma left peacefully.

After grandma left, my parents were afraid that my 82-year-old grandfather would live alone and no one would take care of him. I suggest grandpa tear down the house and move to my house to eat and live together. He agreed, and my parents were very happy, thinking that there were many children, and the wood and furniture brought by grandpa could be left to us after death, which could be of some use.

Unexpectedly, grandpa told outsiders several times: if you walk in front of grandma, your daughter can still get some property. If he walks behind grandma, he will eat up all his property! After he came to my house, he really came. Every day, I don't do housework, I open my eyes and run to town. I eat steamed bread, steamed buns, oil dumplings, wonton, moon cakes, Yangchun noodles and wonton every day. In less than two months, she ate up more than 1000 yuan in cash accumulated by her grandmother, then secretly sold big wooden beds, cabinets, tables and stools, and then tore down columns, beams, purlins and doors. During the Chinese New Year, Big Brother and Second Brother each gave Grandpa a few dollars, and within two days, all the money was gambled away. Father asked him; Mice know that you have stored food for three days, and you have sold all your property. If you are ill, please don't see a doctor. Grandpa replied flatly; No, please.

In the early winter of 8 1, the 87-year-old grandfather was finally bedridden. My father wanted to ask the doctor to prescribe some medicine for him, but he flatly refused. After grandpa's death, eldest brother dressed him in a shroud, rummaged through all the junk and found that all the property around him was only one yuan.

Economic conditions have improved in the past few years, but I still often dream about it. I want to transform my grandmother's house into a small building and design a small garden to commemorate my grandmother. But the grandmother in my dream just smiled and was noncommittal.

Since I have my own car, I always take my mother and brothers to visit my grandparents' graves during Qingming Festival. However, over the past 30 years, this land has been re-planned, and new small farmhouses abound, and the old site of grandma's house has long since disappeared. We searched for a long time, but we couldn't find the burial place of grandparents. I had to burn incense and paper by the familiar drainage ditch, bow down like a musical instrument and say, "grandma, we saw you coming today." Come and get the money. " If you don't have enough money there, please make sure to give our grandson a dream. "

When I uttered this sentence, I felt a deep sigh: when our generation is gone, who will remember that hardworking and kind grandmother named Kang Xinlang?