On the second day of Mid-Autumn Festival, I rode a motorcycle to express my love for the mountains and rivers on both sides of the Cook River. In late autumn, Ke Street was sunny and rainy. When it was busy, it suddenly began to drizzle on the hillside on both sides of the river. I eagerly ran to the bridge of Ganke and hid in the Taoran Pavilion beside the bridge to avoid the rain. I usually pass in a hurry and have no time to pay attention to the scenery of this bridge. At first glance, several huge century-old trees at Qiaotou stand proudly, telling the story of the vicissitudes of the old road. Outside the Taoran Pavilion, two fragrant tree-shaped parasols fondly soothe the land under their feet. Under the umbrella, the grass is lush and lush, and they especially rely on Taoranting to fit in together. The traffic on the bridge is endless, showing a prosperous trend. There is a feeling of homesickness in my heart, and there is always an inexhaustible feeling of leaving my hometown.
You can sit and rest in Taoranting. The pavilion is six square meters square and is a hexagonal umbrella pavilion. Although it is a modern building, it also has the quaint color of Jiangnan. It just lacks a hollow pane, which looks empty and simple. But the mountains and rivers outside the museum are unobstructed, which is in sharp contrast with those ancient cinchona trees, and there is a contrast across time and space. In the pavilion, a tired man sleeps in an armchair in the east with his head covered. When I entered the pavilion, he seemed to turn a blind eye, fell asleep and didn't talk to me. Because I was answering the phone when I walked into the pavilion, I didn't say hello to him. After the phone call, it was inconvenient to disturb him, so I picked up my mobile phone and scanned the scenery in the rain outside the pavilion. Then he spent the rest of his time writing a story about Ke Qiao's past and sending it to a circle of friends to express his sudden thoughts and feelings about this scene.
The rain stopped and the wind stopped. The man sleeping in the pavilion got up and went to the nearby bathroom to wash his face. When he returned to the pavilion, he greeted me and asked me, "Da Die, how can I get to the old road of Shangxiyi?"
"From the front 100 meters ditch bridge, on the old road more than 300 meters, go straight to Qiu Shu Aokou, cross the road to Lai. Go to Umakoda via Dalay Du Xiaotang. " I instructed him not to take the narrow road.
"I broke my leg as a construction worker in Wandian, and I have no money, so I can only take the old road." This man told me. Until then, I didn't notice that he was a little lame. I took out 20 yuan from my pocket and handed it to him. "You go and stop the bus! I only have 20 yuan on me. "
"Thank you, Da Die!" He took the money I gave him.
"Where is your home in Yi Xi?" I asked.
He showed me his ID card: Lengwazi villagers' group in Zhu Lin village, Yi Xi township.
"I was building with the boss in Sichuan, broke my leg and cured more than 10 thousand yuan. I don't know the law. The boss in Sichuan only gave me a few hundred dollars for medical expenses. " He told me so.
"This is a production safety accident, and the boss should be responsible for production safety. The boss will pay you not only the medical expenses, but also the lost time and nutrition expenses. According to the principle of territorial management, you should find Wandian Township Judicial Office to help you mediate. " I told him.
"It took me three days to get to Ke Street. Forget it, let's go home first. " His eyes are full of helpless sadness.
"All right, then. You go to the east end of the bridge and finish the bus. " I pointed him out.
Because he was in a hurry to go home, I didn't care to ask him if he had eaten, so I took him from the west bank of the bridge to the east bank. I stopped a van first, and the owner said it was best to take a bus only to Dalay. Because it's harder to stop halfway. I had to ask him to lay a front-end bus at home. A minibus came and was crowded with people. While hesitating, another bus came slowly towards us. He and I raised our hands to stop the car at the same time, and the car was approaching. That's a bus from Lincang to Baoshan. The owner stopped the car and opened the door. Seeing him in rags and carrying a "snakeskin" pocket, I wanted to close the door and start the car. I went up to say hello to the master. I said, master, please be merciful. He walked from Wandian for three days and came here penniless. Let him sit on the floor and take him to Yi Xi. The master saw that I was a human being, wearing a white helmet and sincere in words, so he let him get on the bus.
I haven't been able to calm down since he left. His thin figure and his sad eye injury always haunt me. In my hurry, I didn't care what his last name was, but I wrote down his address. I really want to get justice for what happened to him and his helplessness. But I don't think it's appropriate to be a grass-roots person. It should be a public rights organization to safeguard people's rights and interests. The so-called power is used by the people, benefit is sought by the people, and love is related to the people. This is the case. Because of his native land, there is an administrative organization to protect the rights and interests of the people in this native land.
It's raining outside on autumn night, and people are hesitant about their sufferings. Tossing and turning, sleepless at night. The accidental meeting on the bridge tore my heart and touched my nerve endings.