Childhood is a little.

Grandma gently advised her several times: "Varusha, have something to eat, even a little ..."

But my mother didn't respond and didn't move.

Grandma whispered to me; Speak louder when you talk to your mother, but she seldom talks to her mother and always seems a little timid.

She seems a little afraid of her mother. I can understand that. I think my grandmother and I are closer.

"saratov," suddenly my mother shouted, "what about the sailor?"

How did what she said get weird? Saratov? "sailor"

A burly man with gray hair came in. He is dressed in blue and carrying a small box. Grandma took the box and put the little brother's body in it. Then she walked to the door with the box in her arms, but she was so fat that she had to lean sideways to get out of the narrow hatch. Interestingly, she stood at the door at a loss.

"Oh, Mom!" My mother cried impatiently and snatched the coffin from my grandmother. They left, leaving me and the man in blue.

"My little brother left us, didn't he?"

"Who are you?"

"sailor."

"Who is saratov?"

"This is a city. Look out the window, that's it. "

The ground outside the window is moving, dark and surrounded by fog, just like a big bun that has just been cut off.

"Where did grandma go?"

"To bury her little grandson."

"Is it buried in the soil?"

"Of course."

I told him about the frog that was buried alive when I buried my father. He picked me up, hugged me tightly and kissed me.

"Ah, little friend, there are many things you still don't understand!"

"You don't have to pity those frogs, you should pity your mother. Look how sad she is! "

There was a purring sound overhead. I know it's a whistle, so I'm not afraid Hearing this, the sailor quickly put me down and ran outside the cabin, saying, "I have to go!" " "

I also wanted to go out, so I followed him out of the cabin.

There are no lights and no people in the narrow aisle. Not far from the stairs, I can see the copper inlaid on the steps shining in the dark.

I looked up and saw some people carrying bags. These people are obviously getting off the boat, so I have to get off the boat, too.

But when I mingled with the crowd and walked with them to the disembarkation steps, people shouted at me, "Whose child is this?" Whose child are you? "

"I don't know."

I was pushed around, groped around and photographed for a long time. Finally, the sailor with gray hair ran up and said, "Oh, he is astrakhan [astrakhan, a city on the Volga River Delta.

], stole it from the cabin ... "

He picked me up, ran back to the cabin, put me back on my luggage, and threatened me:

"Run around again and see how I tidy up you!" Then he left.

The noise overhead gradually subsided, the steam turbine stopped vibrating, and the sound of water splashing on the hull could not be heard. A damp wall blocked the view from the window, the cabin became dark and stuffy, and the luggage seemed to begin to swell, which made me breathless. Will I be left on this ship forever by them?

I walked to the door, the door was closed tightly, and the copper handle could not be twisted at all.

I picked up a bottle of milk and threw it at the handle with all my strength.

The bottle broke and the milk ran down my leg into my boots. There was nothing I could do, so I had to retreat to the luggage pile and cry helplessly, crying and falling asleep.

When I woke up, the turbine began to tremble again, and there was the sound of water splashing. The window glass is bright, like a small sun. Grandma sat beside me, combing her hair, frowning and mumbling. Her hair is very much, dark and thick, covering her shoulders, breasts and knees and hanging to the ground. She lifted her long hair with one hand and combed her thick hair with a rough wooden comb with the other.

She pouted and stared at her hair with black eyes. When she was buried in a pile of hair, her face was small and interesting.

? She seems very unhappy today, but when I asked her why she had such long hair, her tone was as gentle and kind as yesterday: "It looks like God's arrangement-he left me to take care of these damn hair!" When I was young, this was my greatest boast; I hate it when I get older! Oh, go to bed, son. It's still early-the sun has just come out! "

? "I don't want to sleep!"

"Well, then don't sleep." She agreed, braided her hair and looked at the sofa. Mother lay flat on the sofa like a stiff piece of wood. "How did you break the milk bottle yesterday? Whisper to me! "

Grandma speaks in a special way, like singing, so I can always remember her words clearly-as sweet as flowers.

When she smiled, her black eyes were big and bright, flashing an indescribable look; When she smiles, her teeth are white and firm. Although there are many wrinkles on her dark cheeks, her face looks so young and vivid. The only thing that disappointed her whole face was probably the red nose with big nostrils.

She took out a little snuff from a black box with a silver border. All her things are black, but through her eyes, I can always feel a kind of light from her heart, warm, exciting and indelible. She is fat and hunchbacked, like a hunchback, but she moves freely and is as agile as a cat, a lovely big cat. It seems that before my grandmother arrived, I was sleeping in the dark; It was her arrival that woke me up, took me out of the darkness and led me to the light.

It is she who weaves my life into colorful patterns.

She became my forever friend, my closest, closest and most familiar friend.

Her selfless love for life enriched my soul, guided my life and gave me the strength to face all difficulties and hardships. ...

Forty years ago, the steam turbine was running very slowly, and it would take us several days to reach Nizhny Novgorod. I can still clearly recall the good times on the boat.

The weather was fine, and grandma and I stayed on the deck all day.

Wan Li, with a clear sky overhead, has a panoramic view of the golden autumn scenery on both sides of the Volga River.

The oars are flapping lazily on the blue-gray water, and the reddish-brown steam turbine is slowly upstream.

A gray barge was towed behind the ship, like a bug in the flood.

The sun shines quietly on the Volga River; The scenery on both sides of the strait is changing all the time, and everything is novel. Green hills are like wrinkles on the brocade of the earth; Cities and villages in the distance are like plates of pleasant desserts; In autumn, golden leaves float on the river.

"Look, how beautiful!" Grandma paced back and forth on the deck and sighed. She was radiant and opened her eyes happily.

She often stood there staring at each other in a daze, her hands crossed on her chest, her mouth smiling, her eyes full of tears, and she seemed to forget my existence.

At this moment, I pulled her black printed skirt.

"Ah?" She woke up at once and said, "I seem to have fallen asleep just now and had a dream!" " "

"Why are you crying?"

"That's because I'm happy, my little baby. Time waits for no one, dear! "

"I'm an old woman, and I'm over sixty years old ..."

Next, she smelled snuff and began to tell me some strange stories, including saints and immortals, beasts and monsters, and kind robbers.

When telling a story, she leaned close to my face and stared at me closely, with a low and mysterious tone, as if to inject a motive force into my body.

Listening to grandma's stories is a pleasure, just like listening to songs. The more you listen, the more fluent you become. Every time she tells a story, I feel unfinished and always beg her: "Tell another story!" " "

"Well, let's tell another story: there was a kitchen god sitting in the stove, and he was accidentally stabbed in the foot by the end of the noodles, so that he staggered his feet and shouted,' Oh, little friend! "Kid, it hurts me." "

At this point, grandma raised one foot and swung around, posing as if she were the kitchen god who suffered.

The sailors also gathered around my grandmother and listened to stories with me. These people all have beards and are easy to get along with. They laughed while listening, and all praised grandma for her good speech. They also unanimously demanded: "Go on, old lady, tell us another one!" "

They also invited: "Come and have dinner with us!" "

At dinner, they invited grandma to taste vodka and gave me watermelons and cantaloupes. However, these fruits are given secretly, because there are people on board who eat fruits. If that person sees who is eating fruit, he will take it away and throw it into the river. The man was dressed like a soldier on guard with brass buttons nailed to it. He was drunk all day and people avoided him.

Mother seldom comes to the deck. She always avoids us.

Mother has been silent. To this day, I still remember her tall and symmetrical figure, livid face and braids hanging high above her head like a crown. Although these memories always seem to be shrouded in a thin layer of clouds, they are not very clear, but even after many years, I can often feel her big gray eyes like my grandmother, and it seems that she has been watching the world coldly in a distant place.

Once, she said sternly, "Mom, you have become the laughing stock of others!" " "

"Let them laugh", grandma doesn't care at all. "Just laugh and have fun!"

When we finally met Nizhny, I remembered that my grandmother was as happy as a child.

"Look, look, how beautiful!" She dragged me to the boat and shouted excitedly.

"This is the Niger that God has given us! Oh, it's a fairyland on earth! Look at the domes of those churches, more like soaring in the air! "

She turned around, almost with tears in her eyes, and begged my mother, "Varusha, have a look!" " I don't think you remember this place. But you will be happy to see it! "

Mother forced a smile.

Our steamboat stopped in front of this lovely city.

It is moored in the middle of the river, the river is crowded with ships, and hundreds of masts are towering into the sky, which is very spectacular.

A big ship full of people leaned over to us, slowly put down a pedal on the ship and hooked it firmly on the deck of the steamboat. People on the big ship began to walk along the pedal to our deck.

Walking in front is a thin old man, wearing a black jacket, green eyes, a hooked nose, and a red beard with a slight golden light.

"Dad!"

Mother let out a cry and threw herself into his arms.

He put his withered and red hands around his mother's head, stroked her face and screamed excitedly, "Oh, oh, silly girl!" " Finally it's your turn! Oh, you guys ... "

Grandma is like a spinning top, and soon she has hugged, kissed and greeted everyone.

She gave me a push in front of everyone: "Hey, come on! This is uncle Mikhail, uncle Yakov, and this is aunt Natalia; These two are cousins, both named Sasha, and this is cousin Katrina! They are all a family, you see, a big family? "

Grandpa asked grandma, "How is your mother?" They kissed each other three times.

Then, grandpa pulled me out of the crowd, touched my head with one hand and asked, "Who are you?"

"I'm from astrakhan. I came out of the cabin ..."

"What is he talking about!" Later, grandpa asked my mother. But he pushed me away before she could answer.

"His cheekbones are the same as his father's." This is his conclusion. "Get off the boat!"

We went ashore and walked up the slope along a cobblestone road covered with trampled hay.

Grandpa and mom walk in front. Grandpa took hasty steps, and his height only reached his mother's shoulder; Mom walks more like floating in the air, and sometimes she looks down at grandpa. ?

Behind them are two uncles: Mikhail.

My uncle's black hair is smooth and as thin as his grandfather's; Uncle Yakov has curly blond hair.

Behind them are several fat women with bright colors, and there are five or six children, all older than me, who walk behind without saying a word.

I was accompanied by my grandmother and my aunt Natalia.

The aunt is short and pale, with blue eyes and a big belly. Every short walk, she stopped and gasped and said, "Oh, I can't walk!" " "

"Why did they drag you here? How stupid! " Grandma whispered.

I don't like all these children and adults. I feel isolated, even my grandmother has become strange and far away from me.

I especially don't like my grandfather, and even felt his hostility at once. He made me nervous, but I kept staring at him out of curiosity.

We finally climbed to the top of the slope.

A street came into view. There is a low bungalow on the corner. The pink paint on the outer wall of the house is dirty and old. The window protrudes and the eaves are low, blocking the light from the window. From the outside, the house should be very big; When I walked in, I realized that it was divided into many small rooms, dimly lit and very crowded.

The people in the house were crowded angrily, as if the ship had just landed. The children are running around like a group of stealing sparrows, and the air is filled with pungent and unpleasant smells.

I walked into the yard, and the yard was not much better. Large pieces of wet cloth are hung everywhere, and buckets filled with colorful mud are on the ground.

In the corner of the yard, there is a small and shabby room, and the firewood stove inside is burning brightly. I don't know what I am cooking, but I am boiling and bubbling. I can't see the figure, but I hear a voice whispering some strange words:

"Rosewood-magenta-sulfate ..."