He Said He’d be Waiting

By Mo Xiaomi

The girl put on a blue skirt and slipped covertly out of the house unnoticed by family, her big ponytail swinging across her slim, attractive waistline.

She clutched a small note in her hand that she unfolded and eyed from time to time. Prompted by the small note, she took two turns,got on the bus, rode five stops, got off and crossed the street, where there was a river. Along the river,she saw a bridge crossing from afar. Her destination was an alley on the other side of the bridge.

She beamed with a beautiful smile.

Two months ago, she couldn’t read the note, as she hadn’t yet attended the literacy class and met the man of letters.

After class the previous night,he gave her a small illustrated note. On it was sketched a bridge,at the end of which was a figure marked with the three characters of his name, indicating there he’d be waiting for her.

However, before she could reach her destination, she felt a pair of strong hands grab her holding her back. It was her older brother. “Mom wants you to go back home.”

“What for?”

“I don’t know. But you have to go back.”

The girl was 18 years old that year. She had been proposed to by a fiancé who turned out to be her maternal aunt’s son in Shanghai.She had no choice in the matter,although she was sweet on the young teacher in the literacy class.

She gave in to her parents’wishes and gave her hand in marriage the man in Shanghai.She gave birth to four children in ten years. It goes without saying that she was a good wife and loving mother who provided a home with a simple life and all the basic necessities, but her husband was the technical wizard of the factory. He was needed to help support the great Third Front Movement, designed to reinforce China’s interior, so the whole family moved with the factory to the mountain region between Yunnan and Guizhou.

Living in poor conditions, she still managed to keep the family’s day-to-day life running like clockwork. As the children grew up, her only wish was that they could leave the mountains and go back to Shanghai or return to their hometown in Hangzhou.

她特意換上一條藍花裙子，背著家人出了門，大辮子在好看的腰身上一甩一甩。

她手心攥著張小字條，不時展開看一看。按小字條提示，拐兩個彎，上公交車，坐五站，下車，過了馬路，是一條河，沿河走，遠遠看見橫跨的橋，橋對岸的一條弄堂，就是她的目的地。

她抿嘴笑了笑，很美。

兩個月前，這張字條她還看不懂，她還沒上掃盲班，還沒認識一肚子墨水的他。

昨晚下課后，他給她這張圖文并茂的小字條，在橋的那一頭，他畫著一個小人兒，寫著三個字，是他的名字。他在那里等她。

她沒有到達那個目的地，一雙大手用力把她拉住，是她的哥哥。哥哥說：“姆媽叫你回去。”

“回去做啥？”

“不知道，反正要你回去。”

姑娘那年18歲。家里來了提親的，對象是上海姨媽的兒子。父母已經答應這門親事，她毫無辦法，盡管她喜歡掃盲班的年輕老師。

她順從父母遠嫁上海，10年生育4個兒女。本來做個溫飽型的賢妻良母也不錯，可丈夫是工廠技術骨干，支援大三線建設時，全家隨工廠遷移到云貴大山里。

生活條件差，她還是把一家人的日子打理得井井有條。等兒女長大些，她唯一的愿望就是他們能離開大山，去上海最好，回家鄉杭州也行。

晚年，她跟著小女兒在杭州生活，丈夫已先她而去。

這天，她特意系上一條碎花絲巾，背著家人出了門，一頭銀發梳得一絲不茍。

她走得很慢，不時停下腳步，若有所思。拐兩個彎，上公交車，坐了不知道幾站，下車，有條河，沿河走，小橋流水，白墻黑瓦，濃香四溢，是一條美食街。

她咧嘴笑了笑，滿臉的皺紋都蕩漾開了。

那天，從早到晚，美食街上人來人往，沒人注意這樣一位老婆婆走走，停停，坐坐，不吃不喝，流連一整天。

直到天黑人散，一家小面館的老板看著心疼，招呼她：“奶奶，進來吃碗面吧。”

吃完面，她沒有要走的意思，自言自語：“他說在這兒等我的。”

面館老板只得打了“110”。警車來了，她不肯上車：“他說在這兒等我的。”她快要哭了。

一個女警察和顏悅色地問：“老奶奶，仔細想想，是誰在等你？我們幫你找他。”

她在口袋里東摸西摸，她想起來，出門時她帶著一張小字條，在橋的那一頭，他畫著一個小人，寫著三個字，是他的名字。說好的，他在那里等她。

這條路是那么長，她竟然走了一輩子。

女警察講給我聽時感嘆地說：“只上了幾天掃盲班的老奶奶記性真強，竟能把那三個字記得一點不差。老爺爺的確曾經住在這一帶，可惜我們找到他家時，他已經過世了。”◆

（摘自《青春》2018年第1期）

Later, her husband passed away and she went back to live in Hangzhou with her younger daughter.

That day, she left the house with her silver hair meticulously combed, and a floral scarf tied fastidiously around her neck..

She walked slowly, pausing thoughtfully from time to time.She rounded two bends, got on the bus and passed by several stops, before getting off. She walked along a small bridge over a flowing river, lined with white walls and black tiles. The place was filled with a delicate aroma,as it has evolved into a restaurant row.

She grinned, wrinkles rippling over her aged face.

That day from dawn to dusk,people were bustling all about this street lined with restaurants and vendors peddling their gourmet food sand snacks, but no one paid any mind to a single elderly woman lingering there the whole day, walking, pausing and sitting without food or drink.

Once the night fell and people scattered, feeling sorry for her,the owner of a small noodle restaurant greeted her, “Ma’am,come in and have a bowl of noodles.”

After the meal, she didn’t have any intention of leaving. She kept on muttering to herself to herself,“He said he would be waiting for me here.”

The owner had to dial 110.When the police car came, she refused to get in. “He said he would be waiting for me here.”She was on the verge of bursting into tears.

A policewoman said cheerfully,“Think hard ma’am, who is it that’s supposed to be waiting here for you? We’ll help you look for him.”

She fumbled around in her pocket. She remembered that when she went out, she took a small note. On it, at the end of the bridge that had been drawn years before by her literacy class teacher, there was a figure marked with the three characters of his name. As promised, he would have been waiting for her there.

This road was so long she had gone for a lifetime.

When the policewoman told me the story, she said with emotion,“The old lady who had only been in the literacy classes for a few days had such a strong memory that she could even remember the three characters off the top of her head. The old man had indeed lived in this area, but it was a shame that he had passed away before she found his home.”◆