Du Jin is the boss of this compound. Du Jin's sole has an eagle with wings.
If anyone is not convinced, he raises his feet. You see, this is not an eagle. You are impatient?
He frowned his thick eyebrows, and shouted with a voice unique to the changing period between juvenile and adult. It was neither sharp nor thick, like a stubborn carving knife, stubborn and useless to carve on the steel plate.
Of course I can see clearly that it is just a pigeon, but he used his majesty to enlarge the wings of that pigeon dozens of times.
The door of the old dormitory is painted green, and a row of weather-resistant iron pillars has sparsely appeared old, with red rust spots. There is also a small gate in the middle of the gate for walking the bicycle. Usually closed on the gate.
We all like one foot and one arm climbing on the door, the other half on the small door, and then we use the lower back to force the door to be closed like a hinge. At this time, the gate will slide step by step with such force. From one end of the arc to the other, then back again. Go back and come back. The deficient door squeaked and squeaked.
At that age, I never knew what was boring, and the smell of rust on the palms of the hands made me happy.
Du Jin is disdainful of this kind of movement, he always hates things that don't change. Although in the summer, he stood in the middle of the yard all afternoon and all afternoon calling us to hopscotch together. He threw the sandbag all the way to the ground, then sat on the ground, groping with his hand in the "big sky" circled by chalk. So that time, our hands were covered with small, rough scratches.
Du Jin never worried about summer homework. He said that any summer life would be used by teachers to sell waste paper, so writing is just a waste of oil.
In the evening, we were all called back like little chicks leaving the house.
My family lived in the janitor's room next to the gate. I squatted on the ground, holding rotten cabbage leaves to feed my rabbit, and the distant and low sky was lurking with thick clouds.
Only Du Jin kept the rooster's independent posture, still fighting in the room grid. The arrogant and sleepy movement, and the scars on his thin arms, made him look like a hero and a captive just released.
The mentally retarded child gorilla in the yard waved his right arm like a wheel, shouting the password of "driving, driving", and went home.
In the evening of a routine power outage on Tuesday, Du Jin will lead a group of older children out of the yard. He walked ahead, followed us next, and we marched secretly in the corner of the city. Sometimes when he met other partners in the compound, he raised his head proudly in front of him, posing as a hen to protect his chicks. I think it's too sloppy to think about it now, but then I worshiped besides worship. And how do I worship such a person?
Sometimes we can meet his friends and greet him in a very jealous manner, "Ah, you."
"Jiu Yang Jiu Yang, see you another day." He hurriedly squeezed his eyes at us.
We walked to the front of Chairman Mao's statue, and sat down next to each other. At this time, the mosquitoes flew out of the grove, and the thin honey bugs under the street lights circled around us, jumping up and landing.
Du Jin said let's tell the ghost story. So he talked, using his voice of changing voices, pretending to be mysterious.
I have heard most of these stories in the book or in the mouth of the third uncle, so I am not fascinated, nor afraid. I just think that those boys are too easy to make a fuss, and the storytelling around them should be the favorite of women and children.
But Du Jin liked me to sit next to him, as if still looking forward to my companionship. So I always answered him willingly. These all started from one afternoon.
That time I climbed the wall with them and ran along the wall to the acacia flowers on the small roof. That was the first time I took such a bold adventure. The results were unsatisfactory. I didn't know how to get down. I put my feet on the eaves of the hut and swayed while crying.
The boys who went down looked up innocently, and some even laughed.
Only Du Jin, call me out loud below, hello, you jump down.
I don't know how to believe him, but if I don't go down, I will be scolded at dinner.
Still beating heartily. His shoulders and arms were embarrassing to me. His chest was as crisp and thin as paper. I will throw him over.
But he looked up at me and made me even more afraid, with panic and doubt inside.
A few days after he saved me, he called me aside and said mysteriously, "Lend me your shoes."
I don't know why he should wear his shoes. His feet are bigger than mine. I didn't like that eagle at all, or that it was originally a pigeon.
"I don't." At this time, I already knew that I was one of those who could disobey him.
A look of disappointment immediately appeared on his face. At this time, he was the same as he was when he was too impassioned, both with the taste of a child.
He rarely had such disappointment when he failed the exam, and he even told me where his test papers were hidden.
Look at this, he raised his sleeve high, there is a lifelike eagle flying with wings. Cyan-black lines, sharp mouth, and blood-red eyes.
"How about this?" Seeing me nodding, he continued, I'm not like you, "I can't get into high school." He was a little hesitant. Then he whistled indifferently.
Of course, he has also experienced the real time around the hearth.
His nose and mouth were bleeding, his cheek was bruised, and he had lost one of his shoes. However, he still did not fall, so stood upright, watching the leader of the other person shouted "Boss, you are casual, if not enough, we will help you ...", he contentedly pulled the cuff and wiped off Coagulated blood foam.
I watched him come straight towards me, and finally stopped in front of me, pulled up the school bag next to me, and pulled out an instant noodle bag from his pocket. Then stuffed it into my arms.
I opened the bag and there were many, many snails inside, squeezed together for heating. They all set themselves in the carapace.
I carried them home, and my mother put the bag on the windowsill.
That night, I had a dream. The snails stretched out their tentacles and fled. After they ran out, only that person was left looking at me with sad eyes.
The next morning, the snails really crawled out of the instant noodle bag and fled along the glass. When viewed from the inside, they are soft meat feet.
One afternoon in the fall of the next year, Du Jin asked us to go to his house together.
We always thought his home was extremely mysterious, so everyone was eager to try. He has a mother with a mental illness. And a father who is always upset. This is the meager information we can gather from adults.
It is a pity that there is no one in his family, everything is quiet, and it is considered clean and even barren.
He gave us a cup and poured boiled water. There were still a few pieces of tea floating in it. My glass is probably bottom, so there are some fine black dross hanging. He took everyone by my side and replaced it with his own.
Then he took out a tape recorder, black, with black horns on both sides. He pulled out another tape and shoved it into that machine. Press the play button. no response.
He hesitated a little in confusion, and then he was cramped before a group of brothers.
"No plug," I said lightly.
He had always blushed pretending to be serious, and then cursed lowly.
The noisy dance music started to stir up the young man in the small room. He said it was a wild garden, how high and how high. Everyone was bewildered by such words, so they all listened carefully. Then fluttered.
Then Du Jin shouted loudly, "Wu Yuan, come here!" I think he probably remembered my presumptuous just now. But still obediently followed him into the next room. The fat man gave me a sympathetic look.
He closed the door and the music sounded a lot. Then he took out the clarinet for music lessons, and a music book.
"We are about to take the mid-term exam, you can help me listen to it." Then he said nothing and blew up.
I started looking at his room to divert attention, and unexpectedly, it was also unexpectedly neat. The yellowed wall was affixed with mass production of arrogant stars and green fields.
"How?" It turned out he had finished a song. Unfortunately, I only heard some tones running and walking.
"Fortunately ..." Some excitement finally ignited in his disdainful eyes.
Then he opened the drawer of the brown desk and pulled out a large stack of paper. They are all sketches. I never thought about the thick lines, he would even touch the so-called art. Although the lines are too naive, they are already very beautiful.
The ducks I have raised, the budgies I have raised, the cats I have raised, the golden bears I have raised, and the rabbits I have raised.
"Can you give me?" I was happy.
"Of course." He smugly smacked his fingers.
"Hey, why haven't you come out yet ..." Pushing in the door was our "big sister" Jiang Huan, who had bright eyebrows and thin waists, and a growing chest that made all our brothers curious.
"... Go out." He seemed angry, apparently just fine. Maybe it was shy to be spied on.
"Do you have any subjects?" He asked me, pretending to be curious.
"Yes." I definitely can't lose the momentum, and the class flower of the class next door has also been arrested by everyone for a long time.
He said "um" softly.
"But no bitch is beautiful." I was haha.
It was not until later that I felt that such an obscure question and answer might hide something.
On October 1, he organized an autumn tour, and everyone went to drill the tunnel together.
We drove down the narrow intersection, one after another, forming a line. Touching the stone wall with the palm of your hand, the posture of always bending down is surprisingly uncomfortable. So from time to time someone stops and takes a breath.
I was in front of a large army, followed by only the boss and Jiang Huan.
Suddenly someone dragged me from behind. I couldn't keep up with the big troops. I turned around and turned out to be Du Jin. Want to come is tired, leave me to rest.
"Where is Jiang Huan?" I asked him.
"I don't know, he always answered me indifferently. Then he sat on the ground. He was wearing a black windbreaker, he was really the boss, but his eyebrows were still green. Then he took a box of cigarettes from his pocket And lighters.
I frowned. I hate smoking because my father is a smoker and my coat often smells of smoke.
He didn't see the same, he ignited as usual, put the cigarette near his mouth, and then exhaled the smoke.
"How old are you?"
"Fourteen." I answered.
"Are you really a man?" He paused and asked.
"Like a fake replacement." I was a little angry, there was nothing to question.
Suddenly, he bullied him and put a smokey mouth on my lips.
He also reached into the middle of my pants.
"Fuck, you are really a man." He pressed the cigarette to his mouth with dissatisfaction and took a big breath. "Then I'm rare."
Of course, since that day, I have taken the initiative to fall out of favor. In return for him, I kept a close tab on what happened that day in the tunnel. In fact, every time I think of it, there is a spicy smell of smoke in my teeth, which makes me unable to stop coughing. When the cough becomes uncomfortable, I brush my teeth again and again.
I still understand the meaning of being a stranger, sometimes even deliberately avoiding his eyes. If what I see in his eyes is not only for friends. These things are incredible and alarming, and should be obscured.
It's like a thorn, stuck in my heart, always there. Every move will cause it pain.
His mother passed away. It was probably an accident. A person with a problem in his mind did not consider that there was still gas poisoning.
The only good thing was that he and his dad were rescued, and they were all lying in white beds.
When we went to see him, he was wearing a sick uniform and was much more docile than usual.
"Wu Yuan, wait a minute." He picked up a coat on the bed, leaned on my shoulder, and dragged me to the end of the corridor.
"I know you have."
I took out the flat soft package from my pocket, and the smell of tobacco immediately suppressed the smell of disinfection water. The last one.
He took a sip and passed it to me, holding his hand, and I took a sip. Still so spicy.
I have long forgotten what we said, is it that you are doing well, I am doing well, you, I am so good, and so on.
The smoke almost burned to his fingers, he threw the cigarette butt out of the window in the hallway, and I looked at it, leaving only the bare trunk in winter.
Suddenly he was hugged, his strength was very strong, and the tobacco gas on him was mixed with my body. I feel a little grieved by the smell.
"You taste a little bit different," he said softly in my ear, "brother."
I tried to break away from him, but he locked me in his arm, and then let go, and cursed softly.
"Goodbye." He finished, and went back in that suit. "It's so cold this day."
The year Du Jin graduated from high school, I started my first year of high school.
He didn't have the strength to go to any university, so he still lived with the eagle on his arm.
That winter, my family decided to move out.
The day before moving, he stood at my door.
One afternoon after that, he stood outside my window and called me. I don't know what he wants to say, but I'm afraid I will have a hard time answering it. I think he might say sorry. But I don't want him to say sorry. So I sat next to the heater, carefully calculating my math problems, and checking over and over again. He stopped calling me and started to stand at the gate to play that childish clamshell opening and closing game. The icy door shaft was still tweeting, and the sound of the door lock hitting the railing. After a while, there was no sound. When I looked out, I saw that he was looking at his ungloved hand. He probably had no consciousness for a long time.
One day we roasted potatoes in the aisle behind the building together. He first picked it up and handed it to me, although it burned his fingers.
"You should always say something." I stomped in the cold wind.
"Nothing to say." He wore only a thin black trench coat with a high neckline in the winter.
"MD, you have an interest in calling me out."
"All the way," Du Jin suddenly lowered his head and said slowly. Then he stomped angrily at the tree next to him, and the snow on the branches fell down.
"Asshole." I rubbed my face, and when it was gray, there was another omen of snow.
"Also, it's for you."
He stuffed a cool thing into my hand. Then he turned around and waved to me with his back.
Under the sky, an arc of light flashed on his right ear.
Spread my hand, inside my palm is a green cross earring.
If tears shed, it must be frozen soon.
So I closed my eyes.
In the darkness, his back is so far away, yet so close and warm. Confuse me.