Old House (Original Prose)

When people reach middle age, their bodies begin to decline. The biggest trouble is that they don't sleep well, it is difficult to fall asleep and wake up easily, and MUBI. Many times I dreamed of my hometown in the countryside. Every time I dreamed of my hometown, it was my old house when I was a child. Although the old house has been rebuilt several times in the future, compared with before, the old house in the dream is always the same as when I was a child: the rectangular adobe house at the foot of the mountain, the compacted and smooth mud, after years of trampling, can no longer see the original color. The red and white exterior wall painted with lime has begun to fall off in some places because of long time and rain.

Through a fir door, it is a hall without painted walls. Exposed earth bricks are filled with a mixture of chaff and soil, and there are many irregular gaps between bricks. The beams above the hall are some neatly arranged thick fir trees, and there is no floor. Usually put some wood, farm tools and the like on the beams. There is a small wooden table on the front wall of the main hall, on which are incense burners, shrines and ancestral tablets. In the middle stands a rectangular plaque with the words "heaven, earth, country and teacher" written on it.

Generally speaking, during the Chinese New Year holidays, ancestors' birthdays or various immortals' birthdays, adults will light incense sticks and put a square table with various dishes and snacks in front of the shrine. This time is often a big day for our children. After the adults bow down in front of the shrine, the firecrackers at the door will crackle, and we can rush to the table to compete for the things on it.

On the left side of the hall are two rooms, a bedroom and a living room, for my parents and my brother and sister. On the right is a rectangular hall. We call it a small hall, which is usually a place to meet guests and have dinner with family. A huge portrait of Chairman Mao hangs on the wall facing the door. There is a horn with a wooden box next to the portrait, and a thin wire is glued to the wall as a ground wire, which extends into the mud on the ground.

At that time, you could often hear current political news and some music programs from this magical wooden box. Every morning, with the national anthem, internationale and other songs, we wake up from sleep, wash and eat, and go to school with our schoolbags on our backs. In the evening, accompanied by news programs, we came home from the fields with bamboo baskets full of pig grass or screaming ducks. Sometimes I can hear some beautiful and moving songs, such as the fisherman's girl by the sea, the clear and sweet spring water in the frontier, the edge of butterfly spring and so on.

There is always a bamboo cover on the Eight Immortals table in the small hall. This is the leftovers from the last meal. When I came home from school, I sneaked a few slices of pepper, cucumber and eggplant into my mouth while adults were not paying attention.

There are three rooms on the left and right of the small hall. The first room on the left is occupied by two aunts, the second room on the left is occupied by great-grandparents and the first room on the right is occupied by grandparents and two uncles. With the marriage of aunts, housing arrangements have also been adjusted. For example, great-grandparents moved into the first room on the left, the second room on the left became a utility room, and in winter it became a room where the whole family kept warm by fire.

The kitchen is through the innermost door. There are two pits on the rectangular adobe stove, one for coal and the other for firewood. There are two pig iron pitchers embedded in the middle of the stove near the fire source, which can basically ensure the hot water supply for a family. Go out through a door in the kitchen and go to a small courtyard outside. There is a garbage pool two meters square in the yard. On the left side of the yard is the toilet, and out of the toilet is the pigsty.

Behind the yard, there is a dirt road leading directly to the back hill. On the hill, there are green camellia trees, and between them, there are small vegetable fields cultivated by farmers, which are not idle all year round.

two

I remember there are 13 people in our big family, great-grandparents, grandparents, parents, two aunts, two uncles, two sisters and me. The majestic great-grandfather is the head of this family.

He has many rules, for example, he can't talk while eating, his rice bowl must be held in his hand and can't be put on the table, all the fallen rice grains must be picked up and eaten, he must go to bed before ten o'clock in the evening, he can't sing at home at ordinary times, he can't talk loudly and so on. His family law is also very strict. We basically learned how to beat the tea tree sticks used to herd cattle, and even saw his great-grandmother who was two years older than him around the table in her sixties.

However, my father told us that his great grandfather was not like this when he was young. He knows erhu, suona and flute like the back of his hand, and often sees his great-grandfather playing the piano and singing at home. In addition, my great-grandfather, who only attended primary school for one year, wrote beautifully in calligraphy. The characters "Bahemi" engraved on his homemade bamboo roses for measuring rice looked elegant and powerful.

However, I don't know when and for what reason, my great grandfather's temperament became so unsmiling and even a little inhuman, which puzzled us young.

When I was about ten years old, my father proposed to expand a hall, a kitchen and a toilet next to our two rooms. But also put forward the idea of leaving the extended family (at this time, my two aunts were married), and conflicts inevitably broke out between him and his great-grandfather.

We don't know what kind of "war of words" happened between him and his great-grandfather. All we know is that his great-grandfather nailed the small door leading to our room with the yard in a rage. And when his father's hall was completed, his great-grandfather refused to attend the banquet hosted by his father. Finally, mother brought some dishes and a bowl of noodles to his room, which relieved this situation.

My great-grandfather died in the autumn of 1982. I failed in the senior high school entrance examination that year because my great-grandfather suggested that my father let me repeat it. I remember that it happened to be the first year of farmland contracting to households, and everyone could basically eat enough. When the late rice was harvested, my great-grandfather who had been in bed for a long time asked someone to move a chair and sit on the doorstep, squinting at the red sunset in the distance and the busy farmers in the field, with an imperceptible smile on his face. He died soon after.

We don't know what's wrong with him yet. We just watched him get thinner and thinner, and his abdomen was unbearable, so he couldn't eat anything. In the end, there is only a skeleton left, so it is difficult to turn over. But from beginning to end, we didn't hear him shout pain, and his small eyes always showed that stubborn and dignified look.

three

In the 1990s, my uncle, two sisters and I went out to study and work one after another-my uncle went to Guangzhou, I went to Shenzhen, and my two sisters were in the county town-only my great-grandmother, grandparents, parents and brother-in-law were left in my hometown. Later, my brother-in-law got married, and my father and he rebuilt the house one after another. All the old houses were basically demolished and turned into two two-story red brick houses. The only traces left in the old house are my grandparents' room and a kitchen, which have become a sundries room and a fire room respectively.

Later, we got married and each had his own next generation. In the following years, the old house gradually became some vague shadows in our memory; But every Spring Festival, we will return to this small mountain area in eastern Hunan from all directions like migratory birds, and return to this place that has nurtured countless dreams and longings.

We will gather in the old kitchen that was transformed into a barbecue room when we were children. My grandfather lit a fire in the underground iron pot early in the morning, and faint smoke came out from the crack in the roof. The air is filled with the familiar smell of burning fir and tea trees.

We sat around the fireplace, getting warmer and warmer, and the cold and fatigue of running on the road were suddenly blocked out of this small room. At this moment, the outside world seems to have nothing to do with us Our eyes are only the flames jumping around the fireplace and familiar faces.

1996 I experienced the third career change in my life, and I was a little disheartened by the difficulties and setbacks I encountered when I first entered a new industry. I didn't go home for the Spring Festival that year, but in the first month of that year, my great-grandmother passed away.

That cold winter, I was alone in the rented room in Shenzhen, biting the corner of the quilt and crying silently. From time to time, my great-grandmother weaves straw mats, spins cotton, or chews up rice to feed me in the dark and humid room.

In 2008, the family I came from ushered in the darkest moment of my life. That year, my mother suffered from a brain tumor. In May, she had an operation at Xiangya Hospital. But less than a month later, when she was sent to Xiangya Hospital again, she never woke up.

When my mother is alive, whenever there are festivals, my brothers and sisters will take their families back to their hometown wherever they are. The concept of home has been habitually transformed into the New Year's Eve dinner carefully prepared by my mother, the mutual visits of relatives and friends, the visits of villagers to play cards, and the firecrackers during the Spring Festival ... But now, a family without a mother is like a broken bead, which can never be strung together again.

four

One day in August, 20 16, grandma was idle. When she saw a weed on the roadside in front of the old house, she wanted to pull it out. As a result, the grass didn't pull up, but I accidentally bumped into a nearby stone, causing a sharp pain in my sternum. When I got home, I rubbed some medicine such as oil. After several days, I finally couldn't help it. My family sent her to the county hospital. One shot, several sternal fractures; People in their late nineties can't have surgery, so they have to be treated conservatively and stay in bed.

On National Day, our family held a 90th birthday party for grandparents. The birthday party was set in the open space in front of the old house, full of more than a dozen tables. But also set up a temporary stage and invited a performance group.

Early in the morning, the loudspeaker began to play some festive music. At noon, several folk singers took turns to sing on stage. After-dinner performance is the climax of the whole birthday party. Performances include singing, dancing, juggling, magic and cross talk. It's like a small party.

After the performance, the family carried their grandparents in wheelchairs, who were almost inaudible, to the center of the stage. The host asked them to sit in chairs, and we juniors took turns kneeling to offer birthday greetings to them. At this time, deafening music sounded, and one fireworks bomb roared straight into the night sky and exploded in mid-air, instantly illuminating nearby villages. At that moment, I saw the satisfaction and pride in the eyes of my grandparents who looked up and watched.

However, in June of 20 17, grandma died suddenly, just three months before her and grandpa's birthday party. Because I am old, my condition has not improved; On the contrary, the pain is aggravated because of the inflammation of the wound, and it is difficult to sleep and eat, which eventually leads to multiple organ failure and death.

On the day of burial, it was raining in Mao Mao, and the scarlet coffin was carried out by a team of "Eight Carriers" and placed in the open space at the door of the old house-we held a birthday party for her and grandpa here not long ago-and a group of people were busy putting the red and green coffin on it. After a heartbreaking gong, the funeral procession set off, and the cries of relatives and the sound of suona gongs and drums were mixed with the drums of western bands, which resounded throughout the village.

After grandma left, grandpa, who is hard of hearing, was even less talkative. He often sits alone at the door all day. When I was working in a firecracker factory in my early years, my injured left eye was just an empty eye socket with white meat turned over. From time to time, some tears would flow down the eye socket. He took off his glasses with only black lenses on the right, wiped them with his cuffs, put them on again, and spit out a thick sputum stuck in his throat; He stared at the distant houses and mountains with his invisible right eye, and his thin face was expressionless. For a long time, grandpa took out a box of cigarettes from the coat pocket of Zhongshan suit, fumbled out one, lit it, and the light smoke floated out from his sunken cheek and was quickly blown away by the breeze.

On the last day of October this year, grandpa left and finally stayed with grandma, which was a relief for him.

five

The year after my mother died, I bought a comfortable house for my father in the county, not far from my two sisters. Gradually, we seldom go back to the old house we used to know. Even if there is, we will sit at the brother-in-law's house next door, have a meal, and then go back to the county for the night.

Later, my father found a wife, an old lady in our village. We called her "Aunt Dong". My father lives in Dong Yi's house because he has to take care of his two granddaughters who go to primary school. At most, on holidays or when they go back to their hometown, the two of them go to my old house to clean up; With the growth of age, it is difficult to clean up, and the old house has become a completely vacant house.

What is even more worrying is that a few years ago, we found a crack of about seven or eight centimeters on a wall on the second floor near the courtyard outside, extending down from the roof for about thirty or forty centimeters. Father explained that it was because the foundation was not firmly laid when building the house. I am worried about the danger of these cracks, but my father doesn't agree. "I have lived here for so many years, it's okay."

Later, I consulted some professionals, and they told me that the best way is to tear down and rebuild, or at least reinforce the foundation and redecorate it, which will cost a lot of money. But in those years, I had two children, I had to pay the mortgage, and the old people on both sides had to support me. Without extra money to do these things, I put off the idea of repairing the old house.

A few years ago, a cousin who was engaged in catering business in the county bought an old residence of the villagers and demolished and rebuilt a one-story villa. My father also went there on the inauguration day. After he came back, he talked to me about this topic on the phone, and his words were full of envy and exclamation.

My father is over seventy years old, and with years of smoking, his health is not good. I asked him to stay in Shenzhen for a long time many times, but he refused. Go back to your hometown for a few days at most occasionally. He seldom lives in the house I bought for him in his hometown county, and spends most of his time in Dong Yi's house in the countryside. I also know that my father who has never left his hometown is like a big tree. His roots have been rooted here for decades, and it is impossible to move any more.

At the beginning of 20 16, because of work, a person came to Wuhan to work, and the opportunity to return to his hometown increased. At the end of 20 19, it was originally planned that the whole family would go back to their hometown to celebrate the New Year with their father, but the sudden COVID-19 epidemic completely disrupted this plan. As a result, before the Spring Festival, I was the only one who went back to my hometown from Wuhan and stayed with my father for two days. Originally, I wanted to go back to the countryside with my father, but I gave up because I just came back from Wuhan and was afraid of causing anxiety to others. Finally, I took the high-speed train back to Shenzhen on the afternoon of New Year's Eve.

He was diagnosed soon after arriving in Shenzhen and was hospitalized in the Third Hospital of Shenzhen for more than ten days. During that time, my father called me almost every day to ask about my treatment process. I asked him and his sister to pay attention to their status. If there are any problems, they go to the hospital immediately. He always smiles faintly. "I am so old, it doesn't matter." Fortunately, both nucleic acid tests were negative and they were not infected.

six

I saw my father again in July 2020, when I had already returned to Wuhan for some time. I specially asked for a few days off, took my wife and son and drove to Dong Yi's house. At this time, my father was sitting at the door enjoying the cool air. When he saw us coming back, he even danced excitedly.

The next morning, I came to the back of the old house with sacrifices to sweep the graves of my great-grandparents, grandparents and mother. The cement road up the mountain is covered with thorns and thatch because no one has walked for a long time, and it is almost unrecognizable. By the time I got to the cemetery, my clothes were wet with dew in the bushes, and my legs were stained with blood by thorns.

After the sacrifice, I walked down the mountain and came to the door of the old house. I opened the door with a key, and a musty smell came to my face. There is a thick layer of dust on the cement floor and tables and chairs. I went to the second floor. There are three rooms here, which are our three brothers and sisters' rooms. There is an old drawer table and a row of old sofas left by my mother in the corner of the living room. I opened the drawer and rummaged through it: there were books about my father's work in the township government, some miscellaneous wires and nuts, some fuzzy black and white photos, and school textbooks and notebooks. ...

Looking at the cracks in the external wall, it seems to be getting bigger and bigger, which makes people suspect that they may collapse at any time; There are some yellow water stains near the eaves, which are obviously caused by the leakage of rain after the tiles on the roof are loose.

After returning to Dong Yi's house, my father and I talked about the renovation of the old house. His eyes seemed to flash a light, but they soon dimmed. "Come on, don't spend any money here, it's not worth it; Besides, you two children are studying, and there are still many places to spend money. " I am silent.

In recent years, I have seen many videos of media authors living in rural areas on the Internet. Most of the old houses in rural areas are rebuilt or renovated, some are complex and some are simple, but they are basically rural life of "picking chrysanthemums under the fence and seeing Nanshan leisurely".

So I am also thinking, when can I get rid of the fetters of work, return to my old house in the country and live a quiet pastoral life? But on second thought, can you really come back safely? Not to mention the economic pressure of reconstruction, decoration and daily life. What about when you come back? What should I do if I get sick and support the elderly? Can you adapt to the unfamiliar surroundings? When children grow up and have children, can we really stand by and watch? ..... If I think too much about these problems, I feel that reunification is really a distant thing.

With the passage of time, people and things related to the old house, even some trivial memories, will gradually disappear. I wonder, one day, when we go back, will we find that nothing has anything to do with us? Just like a uprooted plant, let it rot slowly in the air, and finally penetrate into the soil and disappear.

"Come home, will the countryside ruin Hu Bugui?" -/kloc-that sigh more than 0/000 years ago, I just understand its meaning a little now.

2021February 25, Wuhan