Lonely Owl Spirit

21 "The Old Man and the Seagull" original text "The Lonely Gull Spirit" 3

Several gull feeders saw this and came over to join in the fun. They imitated the old man and put the bread balls on the fence, and also wanted to enjoy the scenery.

Seeing this, the old man exited the circle in an exaggerated manner, tilted his head back, and looked sideways at the several imitators, his expression was quite childish.

Sure enough, the seagull was not at ease with the stranger, so it flew out of the way and circled, looked at the sky, took a piece of it in its mouth and left, never staying for a long time. At this time, a winning smile appeared on the old man's face, and he stepped forward to feed the food, letting the seagulls fly around in his hands, which attracted another burst of admiration from everyone.

When the sun was in the west, the biscuits in the old man’s plastic bag were empty. He had to stand aside and watch others feed him, looking very jealous. When he saw someone throwing food into the water, he would advise: "The water is not clean, and it would be bad for seagulls to eat bread soaked in that water." Or else just tell some gull-feeders and say, "I've seen the Seagull King!" The average seagull is twice as big, has a crest on its head, and looks very majestic. Every group of seagulls has a leader. You see, the one flying alone in the sky is the leader of the group. As long as it gets up, the others will follow. Go up. It's getting late, and they will go back in a while. I heard that they are resting in Huiwan by Dian Lake, but I can't go there." The old man looked at the gulls that were gradually circling high in the sky. Under the setting sun, a few rays of hopeful light flashed out.

Zhixiong asked me to go to Green Lake to see Old Man Seagull again. He said that last week he went to Green Lake to see Old Man Seagull and found that the old man was not in good mental condition. The old man caught a cold and only ate a bowl of noodles for two days. He looked very weak and his back became even more hunched. Seeing that he couldn't stand, Zhixiong helped him sit in the park and rest. He sat on the stone bench and managed to finish feeding him. He didn't stay long, bought a bag of biscuits and went home.

After a few days, Zhixiong felt uneasy and went to the green lake to look for it. It was not until evening that I realized that the old man had not been here for several days, so he hurriedly called me.

It was estimated that the old man was seriously ill and he was alone, so we decided to find his home and visit him whether he wanted to or not.

December 21, 1995

Early in the morning, several friends who had acquaintance with the old man drove the "Bison" of the Adventure Association and went to the Majie Chemical Plant to find him. After searching a few places, I asked the factory union's retired employee management committee where the "old man who feeds the seagulls every day" lived. The people in the office looked at us in surprise and asked: "Who are you?"

When we explained our purpose, they sighed: "The old man who goes to feed the seagulls every day is the old Wu teacher Wu Qingheng. Come here It's too late. Old Master Wu just passed away yesterday. "

We were stunned and speechless for a moment. The old man's demeanor while feeding the gulls half a month ago was still vivid in front of me. How could I leave? Just leave! The reason why we found an off-road vehicle to see him was that if the old man got better, we would take him to Huiwan to see where the seagulls rest, fulfilling his wish. It's all too late now, too late!

"Where is the old man?" someone asked gently.

"I'm waiting for his girl from Guizhou to come."

"Can I see where he lives?" someone asked again.

The people in the office hesitated: "Our factory is not profitable. Forget it."

"We understand. Just look at where the elderly live." We insisted together.

Among the rows of old bungalows, we found the old man’s home. Although we had said hello earlier, when we opened the door, we still didn't expect the old man's home to be so simple. The low bedroom was dark and narrow, with room for only a single bed and a table. Some old books, newspapers, letters, and photos were scattered on the floor beside the bed, all the way to the outside of the bedroom door. They were probably torn away from the old man when he was carrying his body. The kitchen is equally small, but empty. There is no table or cupboards, only a small stool and a few bundles of dry branches. There is a small stove at the door, with a small pot on it. There is a jar of medicinal herbs soaked in water, which must have been used by the old man to treat colds these days. On the windowsill there is a bottle of soy sauce soaked with garlic, a few eggs, some clothes soaked in the basin, an old straw hat hanging on the wall, and a familiar blue cloth bag containing a plastic bag of diced biscuits.

When the neighbor saw someone coming, he stretched his head to take a look. A middle-aged man named Bao said: "Old Master Wu should not have left so early. Although he is 71 years old, he is in good health. I walk to the city every day and I rarely get sick. I only caught a cold this time..."

"Comrade Wu Qingheng rarely reimbursed medical expenses in the factory for so many years. He knew the difficulties in the factory and didn't want to bother. Collectively, if you are sick, you have to pay for traditional Chinese medicine and take it by yourself," someone from the factory union added.

"I think he is too economical." Master Bao continued, "I live next door to him, and it is rare to smell the aroma of meat in his kitchen. He gets up in the morning, boils water, and makes a cup of hot tea. Satisfied. At noon, he ordered some noodles or went to the canteen to get some steamed buns. He ate half and left half. He fed the seagulls in the evening and heated them up for another meal. Made. He thought it was expensive to buy ready-made pickles, so he went to Jiezi to weigh the garlic, peel it and soak it in soy sauce. In fact, he didn't buy it for himself.

But when money is tight and he can't afford biscuits to feed the seagulls, he buys some flour, beats a few eggs into them, and steams them. He says seagulls also like to eat them. What he burned were branches he picked up on the road, and what he wore was stitched by himself. I said, Old Master Wu, don’t worry about your health. He said there was nothing he could do. If he was unconscious, the seagulls would have nothing to eat. For the seagull, he risked his life. Just a little cold won't kill anyone. He had been frugal all year round, which made him so weak! "

"Comrade Wu Qingheng never wants to trouble the organization," someone from the factory union praised. "He said that the factory was in trouble and it was already difficult to guarantee retirement wages. The most he could do was ask for old books and newspapers, read them himself, and then save them. When he accumulated enough, he would sell them to a rag collector for a few yuan. Yesterday, a rag collector came to see him. Hearing that he was dead, he hurried away without asking. "

Master Bao picked up a photo of a seagull from the ground and said thoughtfully: "The night before yesterday, he came to me and said: 'Master Bao, I am going to England. ’ I said, ‘Okay, is there a letter from the other end? Just go. 'I've heard before that he has relatives abroad, so it's not surprising. He shook his head and sighed: 'Alas! I just can't worry about these seagulls. ’ I joked: ‘Then don’t go. ’ His tone was heavy and helpless: ‘I can’t go if I don’t. ’ I joked: ‘That’s easy. If you bring some photos of seagulls, you can see seagulls every day. 'I know that he has some photos of seagulls. He bought them from someone for two yuan and fifty cents each the year before last, and he keeps them like treasures. When he heard it, he kept saying: "Oh, yes, why can't I remember it?" 'He also put his hands together, thanked me again and again, and then said goodbye and went home. I laughed at him for making a fuss out of a molehill and it was too exaggerated. I didn’t expect that he was talking about going to the ‘Yin Kingdom’! "

"He obviously knew it was time to leave, so when he went to bed the night before, he opened all the doors. Yesterday morning we saw his door open, but there was no movement. When we went in, we found that the old man had passed away. He dug out these photos and kept them by his side. "

I took this picture of a seagull, whose footprints are printed on it. People will not take the time to carefully care for the relics of a poor old man. In a few days, they will all be swept away and incinerated. Even The rag collector probably wouldn't want these things.

With the permission of the factory people, we put away the photo.

Tomorrow is the funeral of Old Man Seagull. We felt that we should do something.

At Green Lake, where the old man often went, we posted the obituary of his death and posted it on the railing where the old man often fed the gulls. , but I don’t know if they can read or not. The literate people looked at the obituary in silence, and no one knew the name "Wu Qingheng". The old man was too ordinary, he had no title, no reputation, and there was not even a piece of popular paper with his name printed on it. Never before.

Zhixiong developed and enlarged the photo of the old man feeding the gulls, and brought it to the place where the old man fed the gulls. Many people immediately recognized him - "the old man who came to feed the gulls every day." ! "People don't know his name, but they are familiar with his smile. Looking at the seagulls flying in the sky, people can't express their respect for the old man and their vast regrets about life and death, so they sign the old man's photo, and they can't tell what it is. I want to add a gull feeder to accompany this lonely old man. The people who signed include old people, children, soldiers, professors, "foreigners", and several ethnic minorities who don't want to. The out-of-towner who left his name and tens of dollars asked us to buy a wreath for the old man - a memorial given by the Oou lovers to the Oou lovers. A girl who was engaged in photography burst into tears. She had known Mr. Haiou since the beginning of the year. , I once wanted to take a group photo of the old man and the seagull. The old man was afraid that she would disturb the seagull, and perhaps because of his past experience of being "cheated" by women, he not only ignored her, but also gave her a lesson unkindly. When Da Jin started to approach the old man, the old man had already left...

We placed the signed photo of the old man on the lawn and prepared to scatter food to represent the old man and feed the seagulls again.

We had just put away the old man's portrait and before we could scatter the food, something unexpected happened - a group of white gulls suddenly flew over and circled around the old man's portrait, chirping, squawking and flying. The postures were different from usual, as if something big had happened.

We didn’t care about spreading the food, so we quickly moved away.

The gulls flapped their wings rapidly and took turns to focus on the old man’s portrait. In the air in front of them, they look like relatives who have come to pay homage to their remains.

The old man on the portrait is frozen in a movement they are most familiar with; but they are definitely not looking for food at this moment, but more like a sacred gesture. Farewell. After a while, some white gulls landed one after another and stood in two rows in front and behind the old man's portrait, standing still, like white-winged angels guarding the old man's body.

The scene lasted for a long time, and everyone who saw it couldn't believe that it was just a coincidence.

When we finally had to put away the portrait, the seagulls rushed towards the portrait like a frying pan. Come here. They screamed with their mouths wide open, and their wings flapped so close that the companion who took the photo subconsciously tightened his body and finally got out of the flying white vortex.

I suddenly remembered that this scene was very familiar, and the expressions of those seagulls were very familiar - it was a scene that the old man often saw when feeding the gulls: when he was satisfied with the feeding, the old man grabbed a piece of biscuit and threw it into his mouth with missing teeth. Inside, he chewed slowly and murmured to the seagull for a long time.

Then, the seagull would open its red mouth and yell at him coquettishly, its wings fluttering with white light...

At this moment, I really believed that the seagull understood the obituary and the black-lined Frame photos, I believe that all things in the world have the same roots and one heart, and I believe that there is a universal language...