Another winter, the snow and ice outside the window suddenly turned cold. I stood in front of a painting called Winter, and I was embarrassed. This is a sketch, which is particularly special among many colorful frames in the exhibition hall. The picture is a snowflake, a dark sky and a strong wind. In the snow, an older child is holding a child's hand and trudging forward. Two lines of small and shallow footprints extend behind the child. I wiped the tears off my face with the back of my hand, so that my eyes soaked with tears were no longer blurred. I can clearly see this painting. I can clearly see the dead silence in winter, which I will never forget in my life.
There are fireworks outside. "New Year's Day, New Year's Day" children's noisy crying reveals the joy of starting from the bottom of my heart.
"Dad, I'm going out to set off firecrackers."
The younger brother obviously couldn't sit still, and the monkey hurriedly jumped off the kang.
"Go ahead, be careful." Dad smiled and said, without looking up, he continued to draw his New Year pictures.
"Look at you, you know how to play." I glanced at him.
My brother spat out his tongue at me and ran out.
"Put on your hat!" Mother gave a cry, and jiaozi didn't stop her bag.
I have a happy family. My father is an art teacher in middle school. He paints well and is my idol. My mother teaches Chinese and is in the same school as my father. 12 years ago, I woke my mother up from her sleep before 3 am, and I was going to come to earth, so my father named me Jujube. As for my younger brother, he is called late son by my father, so I call him "late night". I love my father, my mother, and naughty nights. I believe they all love me, and our family lives happily.
"Late at night, have a meal-"
A family of four sat around the dining table. Father made an exception and poured a glass of wine. My mother and brother and I changed the wine into water and raised our glasses. Father blushed and said happily, "It's the New Year again. I grew up one year earlier and one year later. I hope our whole family will be healthy and happy in the new year. Come, let's all drink. "
"Cheers-"
My father's blessing didn't come true. Shortly after the Spring Festival, my father always complains about his stomachache. My mother made him break into a cold sweat. This result is enough to shock our whole family. Father got stomach cancer, but the sky undoubtedly collapsed in the later period. After that, my father never came home. My mother has been living in the hospital to take care of her father's illness. He often sleeps for more than ten hours, and his whole body is swollen. When you are unreasonable at night, you will giggle when you see a big pit. I was there. But dad is optimistic. When he is sober, he talks to us very hard. Dad was very happy when he showed his graffiti to him at night. He gently touched his head in the evening with his hand and said with a smile, "Both the morning finger and the evening finger are very slender, suitable for painting, especially at night. It would be a pity not to draw. "
One day, my father woke up after sleeping for more than ten hours and told my mother that he was hungry. Mom is busy carrying a lunch box to the restaurant opposite the hospital to buy chicken soup for dad. I stood at the gate of the hospital, holding hands in the middle of the night, watching my mother cross the road with a lunch box, but he never did it. She didn't tell me, didn't tell her late at night, and left alone without telling her father in the hospital bed. No one knows where she went, and no one knows where she went. I looked at the box of chicken soup spilled on the snow and the bright red blood on the snow next to the truck, but I didn't see my real mother.
"Mom-"Crying late at night, I'm so scared. Just a late-night hug, a late-night hug.
My father never woke up after my mother died. My brother and I stood neatly by my father's bed, looking straight at him, waiting for him to get up and take us home. I said to the evening, "don't be afraid, dad will wake up and take us to mom." I'm twelve years old. That's all I can do. However, my father didn't wake up after all. He seems to know that his mother is waiting for him in that world. He didn't miss us, but he forgot us. He just fell asleep forever and looked peaceful. His hands covered with indelible paint will never grab a brush again, and he will never draw a rabbit three or two times again. He smiles at the dusk and says, "Look, this is you." He'll never see it again sooner or later. I kept pushing my father's body at night, calling, "Dad, Dad, wake up, it's late at night, wake up, look at the night, Dad ..."
At night, I was so scared that I kept holding my hand tightly for fear that I would run away, too. We just cry after all. Suddenly, I had a feeling that my eldest daughter was a mother. I'm an elder sister, and I have to take care of my younger brother. But what can I do to support him? How can I make him paint, so as to live up to his fingers, especially his father's fingers? Who can tell me? Seeing my brother's tearful face full of fear, I don't know what to do. It's already April. It should be spring, but this year it's cold winter.
My brother's future fate is firmly in my hands. I carefully opened the paper with the phone number written on it. That's the phone number of Dr. Wen who treated my father. Before my parents died, he often said that he liked to stay up late and wanted to recognize him as an adopted son. After his parents died, he came to me again and wanted to adopt late night, thinking that I really couldn't take care of late night. "What a pity to waste his high painting talent?" Doctor Wen kindly reminded me. Yes, it's a pity to waste it. That's what dad said. But I can't part with my brother. He is my only relative in this world and my only hope for life. In the dark, cold and lonely big house, I curled up in my arms at night. I made up my mind a hundred times. "Late at night," I said to my heart, "My sister is going to find my parents, so let you live with Dr. Wen for a while first, okay? That's Dr. Wen who likes you very much. He has many toys at home. "
"Don't you want me?" My brother asked me in a hurry with tears and wide eyes.
"No, I'll pick you up when my sister finds mom and dad, okay?"
"Are there really many toys?" My brother whispered.
"Of course."
My brother stopped talking. After a long time, he asked, "Are you sure to pick me up?"
"Of course, when it snows again in winter, my sister will pick you up, ok?"
My brother stopped talking again.
I finally made that call.
Dr. Wen took my brother's hand and said to me, "Good morning, please believe me. I will take good care of late." "You should let him learn to draw." I told him firmly. "I will." He also said firmly.
My brother has been holding my hand. Doctor Wen pulled him away, and suddenly his brother burst into tears. "I'm not going, elder sister, I'm not going, elder sister, don't let me go, elder sister-elder sister-"He cried and refused to go at night. He pulled me with one hand, his feet pressed tightly against the door frame, and his face flushed with all his strength. Dr. Wen is five years old and can't touch him. I'm afraid I'll be soft-hearted if I stay any longer. At night, he suddenly shook off my hand and rushed out of the door. I heard my brother crying behind me: "You said you would pick me up in snowy winter, you would pick me up, you would pick me up-"I ran aimlessly, I wanted to call me out, I wanted to cry, I couldn't cry, and I kicked on the tree trunk covered with snow.
That year, I was 12 years old and 5 years late.
No one knows how I spent these 20 winters. The only hope of survival is that I promise to pick him up later. I cut my hair short and put on my father's old clothes to support myself. I worked as a newspaper boy, shoeshine, pick briquettes, move bricks, clean toilets, and work as a mobile vendor ... My only hope at that time was to make a lot of money quickly, and I could take back the evening, buy him many toys and send him to the best art school. Just when I was barely able to support myself, Dr. Wen went to America with a late night.
It is another year in the dead of winter, when I open the newspaper, "The painting genius returned to China at the end of summer and will hold a solo exhibition in Beijing recently." Looking at Brother Liang in the newspaper, 20 years later, I still recognize that it was my night. Now I have settled down and sold fish in the market with my husband. We have a beautiful little daughter and live a quiet life. Returning late at night, like a bomb, detonated the door that had been sealed in my heart for 20 years and broke my peace for 20 years.
I sneaked into the hotel where I stayed late, hid behind a big tree, waited for more than four hours, and finally came out at night. At night, I grew up, taller, with slightly curly hair, tough face and clear outline, just like my father. I stepped forward to have a good look at my brother. I walked forward absently. Just when I came to see my brother, I was knocked down by a small bike. My brother came over and said, "Are you all right? Do you need help? " My brother helped me up. I sat on the ground and saw him coming to me with a smile. This is my brother whom I miss day and night. I want to call my brother, but I don't even have the strength to stand up "I'm ... I'm fine, thanks." I shook my head. Give me another smile at night and get on the bus and leave. I looked at the car that was far away, just like watching Dr. Wen take my brother away. I silently shouted in my heart, "Brother, it's late at night."
In the noisy market, I am busy measuring my weight, angle and balance. I just sat down to rest while no one was there. A man came up to my fish stall and asked, "What can I do for you? Carp, eel, saury, hairtail and cuttlefish are absolutely fresh and cheap ... "I greeted politely without looking up. The man didn't answer. I saw a pair of white and slender hands. I raised my eyes and heard the words that I will never forget: "You said you would pick me up in the snowy winter."
"You said you would pick me up in the snowy winter."
"You said you would pick me up in the snowy winter."
My brother found me. Twenty years ago, I opened my hand in despair and took my greasy hand. I smiled with tears in my eyes
Standing in front of the exhibition hall, I was embarrassed. I don't know if I should go in and watch men and women wearing bright shoes pass by me. I smell like fish all over, my hay-like hair is still messy, my face exposed to the sun is dark and dirty, and my dark and rough hands were called drawing hands 20 years ago, and I don't know where to put them. My brother held my hand tightly, just like 20 years ago. He took me directly to see a sketch called Winter in the center of the exhibition hall. In the picture, an older child is holding a child, struggling to walk in the snow, and two small and shallow footprints extend in the snow.
I can see clearly that the older children are early and the younger children are late. We met in the dead of winter.