My father always rides three bicycles, and the one in front impressed me the most.
The first bike my father rode, I don't remember what it looked like. According to him, my uncle mailed it from Lanzhou to my hometown of Sibo, Shaanxi. After riding for a year, my father rode for about a year and a half. At that time, I was seven or eight years old, and what impressed me the most was that my father took us to visit my uncle's house by bike:
During the Spring Festival, when visiting relatives and friends, bicycles are the most fashionable and convenient means of transportation. My uncle's home is about 20 miles from mine. My father rides a bike with the three of us, my mother, my brother and me. My mother sat in the rear wheel seat, holding my brother in her left hand and holding a gift in her right hand to make sure that people and gifts would not fall. I sit on the beam of the front triangular bracket of the bicycle, and my hands can only be gently placed on the front of the bicycle. My body can't be too straight, and my fingers can't be stuffed into the gap between the brake and the beam. Otherwise, as soon as the car brakes, my finger will be caught. Hunting in the cold wind, it rains and snows, and you will lose consciousness if you put your hand in front of the car for a long time. The car is particularly bumpy and trembling when riding on the uneven country road, and there is no small seat under the ass. When going uphill, my father stepped on the gas pedal hard and the car swayed from side to side. His warm breath is like a warm spring breeze, stroking my collar, neck and even getting into my ears. I held my breath, my cat was naked, and I was secretly cheering for my father. I dare not move. I am afraid that moving will affect the balance of the car, and I am even more afraid that it will affect his sight. In this way, childhood passed quickly in the rolling wheel, full of the smell of dry smoke and the smell of water in Zhang Zi's kitchen, that is, the water with leeks, eggs, shredded fungus and some oil flowers.
My father's second bike is a flying pigeon brand produced in the 1970s. Father rode it from elementary school to junior high school and left home to study. At that time, his job had been transferred from Baoji Instrument Factory to Wugong Weiyuan Machinery Factory as a locksmith. On Sunday afternoons, I can always see my father cleaning his bike with linoleum in the yard. Now that I think of that bike, I am grateful, because it once supported the life of our family. Every morning, before going to school, it is often just after five o'clock. There will be a discordant sound of chain and chain tile rubbing in the yard. In the dark night, this kind of sound often disturbs the sleeping cock and hen on the chicken rack, causing a short commotion. Then, there will be a door latch, a creaking sound of opening the door and a slight cough. The loudest sound is the "bang" sound when the rear wheel of the bicycle collides with the threshold. "Tudor in the morning, the guest line sad hometown. When a chicken crows at the Maodian Moon, people walk on the Banqiao Frost. Mistletoe leaves fall on the mountain road, and orange flowers are on the wall of the post. Because of thinking about Ling Du's dream, the geese return to the pool. " Becoming the earliest poem in the history of literature I know about the feeling of wandering in the late Tang Dynasty has a lot to do with the sound of this bicycle. "It's not all over Qian Fan yet. It's all water." Wen is also one of the earliest poets in the late Tang Dynasty in my memory.
My father bought me a third car. It was 1989 or 1990, the eve of my graduation from middle school. He said, "if you are admitted to the normal school, I will buy you a bike!" " "To tell you the truth, I really don't want him to buy me a bike. I don't want it! But I did get into the normal school. So, my father found my uncle who worked in the county water conservancy bureau, found acquaintances, made connections, went through the back door, and spent 150 yuan to buy me a brand-new flying pigeon bicycle. At that time, I saw a happy expression on my father's face, and his eyes were full of pride and hope for a better future. I rode this car to the county to study. When I left, I turned to him and said, "I only rode this car for three years, and I will return it to you after three years!" " "Later, after I graduated from technical secondary school, I didn't go back to my hometown to work, but went to the more distant ancient capital Xianyang to study. I really only rode that bike for three years. Three years later, the bicycle was naturally returned to my father, but the memory of this bicycle is constantly fermenting.
I remember it was a sultry autumn afternoon. I go to school by bike. When riding to the provincial highway 107 Shanhua Temple to wucun, the road surface is a continuous curve. Half of the roads are corn dried by farmers, and the other half can drive. At this moment, I saw a Jiefang bus coming from the opposite side. I was in a panic, and the front of the car flashed, and even people and cars fell into the irrigation canal on the side of the road. When I came to my senses, my ears were full of scolding and resentment. The driver kept wiping the sweat with his arm and pointed at me viciously and said, "Go to hell!" " I was lying in the canal, the right front wheel of the car was half suspended above my eyes, and the whole body was across the middle of the road. I clearly saw the words "frequent accidents, be careful and go slow" scrawled on the white-gray bucket door. Worst of all, it began to rain. I almost limped my car to the county seat. I dare not walk in the middle of the road. I almost pushed it into the grass by the side of the road. After pushing less than 50 meters, the wheels were blocked by mud and could not turn. The scar on my knee is dark and my pants are torn. I couldn't find a stick to poke the mud in the wheel and stumbled all the way.
Sometimes, life is like a play, with ups and downs one after another. Contradiction is the climax of a play, and the ending is often unexpected. Life is like a high-speed train, and fate has squeezed us into the same carriage.
Last weekend, when I went back to my hometown, I saw this bike again. Seeing a bicycle reminds me of the past that has settled in the depths of the years. I touched the wheel that had been dimmed by the impermanence of time. The coating on the wheel has peeled off, revealing rust, just like an old man's face full of vicissitudes, silently telling the past of his prime.
"It's not that I'm not careful, but the fact is irresistible. I never dare to look at you carefully, but I am afraid I will lose myself. Although you are not the only one for me, my expression makes me unable to escape. " When I think of this song by Zhang Gaozhe, I unconsciously hum it in my heart.
The world is changing too fast-including our bicycles and our lives. A few years ago, my father gradually found it difficult to ride a bicycle, so he bought an electric bicycle. He hasn't ridden for two years, and he can't ride any more. I feel that electric bicycles are much faster, more convenient, faster and more fashionable than bicycles. One day at noon, when I rode my electric car home like lightning, my father said thoughtfully, "I rode too fast, and I don't know if there are fried dough sticks and soy milk on the roadside!" " "
The next day, I rode my electric bike slowly, thinking: What will my father's bike talk about with the electric car in the grocery store? What will the two cars say? Their conversation must be very simple—
The bike said, "Walk slowly and wait for me. The scenery in the past is really beautiful! " "
The electric car will say, "Drive faster and keep up with me. The road ahead is still far away! " !
On the evening of May 30, 2020, the author Yan Junhai
(DYT)