Lunch half an hour

The clatter of sewing machines suddenly stopped, and the world relaxed. The warm sun shone through the thin, slanting Windows, and the columns of light were filled with dust. People stretched and yawned and looked at each other, and the old stiff faces seemed to melt away, and a faint smile came from the sockets of the eyes and the corners of the mouth. It was time for a half-hour lunch, time for a breather, time for a good laugh -- the usual ritual, like April Fool's Day in the West.

The happiest of people is that they have a gift -- to enjoy themselves. "What is a blessing? You think it's a fucking blessing, it's a blessing, shout!" This theory was invented by an old white ironing man chewing a steamed bun with stinky tofu. As for who spread the enthusiasm is not clear, but everyone is convinced. Perhaps this theory is similar to Ah q's method of spiritual victory, but none of the eight and a half people in total (one young man with paralyzed legs can only be counted as half a person) know what Ah q is, but some know Lu Xun. In order to whether he also lives in Zhongnanhai, we just discussed yesterday, although the paralyzed young man expressed different opinions, but finally we agreed with the old white man's opinion: such a famous person, still use it? Shout!

The enamel cylinder rang once or twice, and the low old room smelled strongly of leeks. "A few cents of meat?" "Meat? Hum, tongue meat!" So the world was quiet again. Don't worry. We haven't found a suitable subject for our amusement just yet.

As the car screeched to a halt outside the rear window, people stopped chewing and pricked their ears. "Tired of living! It must have run over nothing; There was another rumble of the engine and the car drove away. This is the beginning of the prelude.

"Yesterday off work," squinting two small round eyes of the summer aunt leaned forward a neck, hurriedly put a piece of the mouth of the pancake down, "yesterday off work," she quickly drank water, made a deep breath, "yesterday off work, almost did not scare me to death, walking, back is so a ring.

"Dear me! Why didn't I choke you to death?" Sitting opposite the "small foot" broke a piece of steamed stuffed bun into his mouth, "this shit, I also when you picked up a diamond." She turned her mouth away, her right leg over her left, and her four or five inches of foot-binding wiggled triumphantly.

The paralyzed young man ate while pulling an abacus: "Xia Dama, you this month half a day off half a day sick leave, deduct your ninety-two cents."

"I looked back," Xia aunt said: "The alley is so narrow, the car is so wide, where can I hide? I'm running... If you have those precious feet, you can't cure the car unless you punch them in the eye." She took her revenge on Little Foot. "Drive me to the mouth of Hu Tong, the car went by. A few pupils said 'red flag'; I've heard of a red flag-carriage, but I don't know what a red flag-carriage is, you know..." She slapped her hand on the leg, as if regretting not having taken a closer look at the red flag car.

They heard the "red flag" are awed without laughter, only the white old man disapprovingly "shout!" "You have lived in vain," he said. Red flag car? Big! Beautiful! The glass guns in the Windows are impenetrable, made in Germany, all like that!" His eyes met the eyes of the paralyzed young man, then added: "Now China is also successful experiment, riding that car is all famous people from the central government, early Ma Lianliang..." Hearing the paralyzed guy laugh secretly, the old white man mumbled.

But Little Foot chuckled to herself, and the more they called her a "crazy old woman," the more she laughed her head off.

"Call a cab, call a cab! There's a mad one here!" The old white man ran solemnly to the door. "I've seen her since this morning that her bottom is not like a bottom, her face is not like a face..."

"Uncle White, one day of personal leave, two half days of sick leave, deduct $1.85 from you." The paralyzed guy settled another score.

"Buckle it, save money and worry more thieves." The old white man squatted down in the corner of the door and said generously, still looking at "little feet" with a smirk and cunning smile.

At last Little Foot stopped laughing, but belched, "Ugh! Just now the old thing said to me, "she poked the old lady's finger," Eh! I have to punch holes in the car. Ugh! If I shot a red flag car in the eye, I'd be fucking lucky. Lie down for a while, and two orderlies will wait on me, and I will eat delicious food and drink spicy food.

"Do you take anything else?" The old white man narrowed his eyes and came closer, his face flattering again.

"Cluck! That's it!" Little Foot glanced sideways at the old white man and stiffened his face. The white old man -- hum! I shall not allow thee there; White old man! Buy two Chinese filters. "

'Cobbler! "Replied the old White man, and seizing Little Foot's hand, he began to pulse earnestly. 'Are you awake? 'he added.

Little Feet pushed him. "What? He hit me!" Look at her, as if "nature" is not difficult.

"To your wretched bones? Why don't you lay down for a while? To rest -- in the morgue, or in the crematorium." The old white man broke a match and picked his yellow teeth slowly.

"Little foot" round eyes no word, things really a little weak. "When I die, I have my son!" She suddenly regained her spirits.

"After the death of a son, there are grandchildren. There is no end to the number of children and grandchildren. If the mountain is dug a little bit, it will be depleted. Three seven twenty one, three down five down two..." The paralyzed young man was talking to himself as if he were chanting, not looking up, not inclined his eyes, clearing up the accounts, and biting into the fire.

"What about your son?" "Someone asked with interest.

'He must find a room for my son to marry! My son is thirty-two and my partner is twenty-nine. Wow!" "Little foot" eyes are much brighter, although the steamed stuffed bun rolled to the ground, "this is copied! I don't want that shit in the housing department. I need a fucking unit with a kitchen and a toilet. My son and daughter-in-law have one room and I have one for myself..."

The old man prodded her. "I should warn you -- you were killed by a car. Never mind! I'll take that room for you, and someday I can show you my grandchildren and so on." He shrugged his nose again. It would have been easy for him to shed some tears. "If you accumulate evil virtue, you will have good things in your next life."

Someone was about to laugh, but another old lady took over. She's an old lady, but she's not really that old, except she's got a mouthful of teeth that never got inserted, and she's got asthma. With a little whistle in her throat she said: "I don't know! It's better to let a car hit you. Our old man broke his leg when he was hit by a car in the earthquake. It was a walking tractor in the countryside. Who do you want to tell? Driving poor jingle, strange poor...... But there is a silly girl in our hometown last year let a 'Shanghai' hit and killed, what? A thousand dollars! A thousand! It's a Shanghai..."

Everyone's eyebrows were furrowed, and their mouths were agape. There was no more joking. Everyone slowed down their chewing and seemed to be thinking of something. The old house was quite lonely for a while, and even the old white man's face had no cunning laugh lines.

"Aunt Luo three days sick leave, deduct you two dollars and seventy-seven cents." Except for the paralyzed young man.

"If I were you," said Aunt Luo, "I wouldn't take that one thousand dollars. Some day I'll run out of money. I'll let them find me a regular job, or nurse for them in the Red Flag. We have an old neighbor, who has accumulated good fortune in his life. He works as a babysitter for a big cadre's family. They will give you some old, broken, unneeded, unedible, and fucking enough for you. Of course, I could have a regular job..."

The vertical lines between everyone's eyebrows disappeared, and it was a revelation.

"Or is it better now?" Grandma Lu, who is a button button, looked at us from the reading glasses with one eye (yes, she only has one eye), and felt, "In the early years, our old man gave a manager of a medicine shop a month car, ten winter months I held our eldest daughter to find him, he took a piece of rice cake from the cook to the eldest daughter, but also did not get a scolding? What do rich people eat? Eat..." She stretched out both hands thumb and index finger, seems to be in the middle of a large bowl or plate, "eat, eat" for a long time, finally did not "eat" out of anything. One eye behind the glass blinked and blinked. "You see, the last couple of days we old men were talking... Oh, eating green tortoises, and letting the navy fish out live prawns, the air Force to ship..."

"That is Lin Biao J you are confused." The paralyzed young man cupped his cheeks in his hands and said with a half-smile.

"Shout! The old white man grinned and stood up. He turned around and sat down on the bench again. Lin Biao became a medicine shop manager, you ate Lin Biao rice cake, old old to get a historical problem how can you tell your children!" In the laughter, Grandma Lu slowly closed her outstretched fingers, smiling shamefully for a while, and did not speak.

People went back to the original topic.

"If I had said anything, I would have asked them to send my father back to Beijing. When they said they would come back in three years, which is good. Our 'little aid boy' has turned 13 this year." There was a sigh in the corner.

Someone lit a cigarette in front of the fire. "Don't mention it. If I could just ask them to help me transfer my son back from Yunnan."

"And a regular job!" "We two boys have been back from Inner Mongolia for more than two years, and we have been unable to distribute. What if the red flag pulls up to the factory gate and gives the order? The factory director has to be a jerk! Pity..."

"Alas! Don't be greedy, can give us elder sister a few pieces of wages on the line..."

There was silence in the low old room once more. It was a daze of food and water, which was obviously not accurate, for the eyes were shining with a strange light -- the light of longing. The light of joy? Or the light of the wish? I don't know. At any rate, it was a rare light in this crooked little workshop, a rare light in the eyes of those over fifty. People like a statue, looking straight at a fixed place. Some are picking moles on their cheeks, some are lifting the hair in their nostrils, some are picking something out of their nostrils and poking it between their fingers... They all seem to be listening to the Gospel.

"Ice -- sticks! The wind of late autumn brings in a long call, which awakens people from the state of selflessness.

"Well, I don't want to be killed by a car." I wonder who saw the light first. A happy laugh rose from the depths of the alley. Mixed with vulgar obscenities.

The "Chug Chug" of sewing machines made the world tense again.

In 1979