The secret of his father and another man in the same village was kept for a lifetime
The night before, I spent time with my eighty-year-old father, who lived in my house. Suddenly, he received the news of the unfortunate death of Uncle Nezhu in his hometown. My father wiped away his tears and told me emotionally that he would accompany him to Uncle Nejo's funeral tomorrow.
His father, who suffers from high blood pressure and diabetes, has limited mobility, and for many years he has been away from family events.
However, Uncle Geunzhu, a man who is not related to us by blood and who is difficult to call friends in normal times, has left his father deeply saddened by his death. What's even more puzzling is that even though we are not related to Uncle Geunzhu, my father insists on seeing him off for the last time.
It stands to reason that I don't need to attend this funeral, after all, we are just an ordinary township relationship, and it can even be said that we are not related.
This behavior has puzzled me for a long time. Looking back at my childhood memories, despite the lack of material resources at that time, every year on the eve of the Spring Festival, my father always sent some gifts to Uncle Genzhu's house, whether it was a few bottles of wine, a pack of cigarettes, or a rooster.
One year, when the family was in real difficulty, my father even took out half of my mother's steamed buns and gave them as a gift.
As time went on, Uncle Geunjok's family grew, and the congratulatory gifts we sent became more generous, and they were always delivered in advance. Maybe it's because I'm afraid that the gift money will be recorded on the gift list and need to be returned by Uncle Genzhu.
One year, I heard that Uncle Geunjoo's grandson had been admitted to university, but the tuition fees had not yet been settled. So, my father borrowed some money from me with his savings for many years (I was already working in the county seat at the time) and gave them a total of 10,000 yuan.
Although the money was later returned by Uncle Geunju's son, my father's generosity at that moment was enough to show that the relationship between him and Uncle Geunju was indeed extraordinary.
Of course, Uncle Genzhu will also give us some gifts in return, such as asking Aunt Genzhu to send some eggs. However, my family never accepted these gifts, but would add some eggs for my mother to send back. As a result, their family fell into a situation where they could not refuse.
What's even more peculiar is that there is no special emotion between the silent father and the equally silent Uncle Genzhu. When we meet on the street, just say hello and walk away.
I've never seen them drink or have dinner together. The scene of visiting each other's doors, and the scene of them chatting together is also extremely rare.
When I was a child, I didn't have too many doubts about this, but when I grew up, I felt that the relationship between the two families was indeed a little strange. I asked my parents more than once, and my mother chose to remain silent, while my father said meaningfully, "You don't have to inquire too much, and when you should know, he will tell you." ”
In fact, this relationship may not be known to the majority of the villagers.
In the past year, Uncle Genzhu's emphysema has been getting worse. I accompanied my father back to his hometown many times to visit him, hoping to get a glimpse of some of the secrets between them through their conversations, so as to clear up the doubts in my heart.
That was in the last century, when natural disasters were severe. At that time, we lived in a production team, and each person's food could barely last for half a year, but for our landlord family, four months was already unbearable.
During this period, social differentiation was evident, and the boundaries between the landlord families and the poor middle peasants were clearly visible. Our family background means that we can't act and speak up like everyone else in the same predicament. At that time, we must be honest and not dare to make the slightest difference.
When the pressure on livelihoods increases, food becomes incomparably precious. When harvesting crops collectively, other women can more or less hide peanuts and corn around their waists to make up for the lack of distribution in the team. Some of the cadres' families and brave women were even able to get more food than the team had to offer.
However, as a family of landlords, our women did not dare to act so boldly. Once, the daughter-in-law of a rich peasant was stripped naked in broad daylight by hiding some peanuts in the inner pocket of her pants, and when she returned home, she was so ashamed that she hanged herself.
There was also a woman who was a bad element, and when she saw other women with corn cobs in their waists while harvesting corn, she tried to insert a few of them. As a result, she was discovered by the captain, so she hung dozens of pounds of corn cobs around her neck, and was forced to march on the street for half a month, and finally her neck was crushed into a crooked neck tree.
In late autumn, my family had no food to eat. My grandparents were so hungry that they could barely breathe on the kang, and my father, seeing that the family had nothing to do, decided to take a risk. This happened before I was born, when my three older sisters had lost their strength from crying and fell asleep because of their prolonged hunger.
In the dark and windy midnight, I silently walked out of the house, carrying a tattered bag, to an unripe sweet potato field. Worried, I picked half a bag of sweet potatoes in fear, intending to carry them home to help my family. However, due to the fact that I had not eaten for several days and was nervous, I fainted after walking a few steps.
At that time, the production team set up a youth protection team, which was claimed to prevent bad elements from sabotage, but in fact it was to arrest those who stole food because they did not have enough to eat. The Youth Guards are usually made up of young and strong militia members who are responsible for patrolling in separate sections.
The place where I grilled the sweet potatoes happened to be the area that Wang Genzhu was responsible for. When he patrolled here and found me fainting on the ground, half a bag of sweet potatoes beside me, he immediately understood everything. The kind and honest Uncle Genzhu knew that my father, as a landlord, would never do such a bold thing easily, unless the family was about to starve to death.
He pinched my father's acupoint with his thumb and revived him. The father looked at Uncle Genzhu in horror, waiting for the most terrible consequences. Uncle Genzhu didn't say much, silently picked up the half bag of sweet potatoes, and walked forward with his head buried in himself, and his father had to follow anxiously. My father was terrified that he must have been escorted to the team headquarters, and that he would be tortured as a thief with all the stolen goods.
However, unexpectedly, Uncle Genzhu made a detour back to my doorstep. He gently placed half a bag of sweet potatoes in the street door of my house, then turned around, gently patted my father on the shoulder twice, and disappeared into the dark night.
It dawned on my father that Uncle Geunzhu had acted in order to prevent my father from being unable to get home due to hunger and weakness, and to prevent him from being caught by other youth guards on his way home.
My father was grateful, and our family of seven relied on the half bag of sweet potatoes to survive, and finally did not starve to death. However, Uncle Genzhu also got into trouble because of this. The team found out that Uncle Genzhu's plot of land had been stolen and dug up sweet potatoes, so he was severely beaten at the team headquarters and subsequently dismissed from his position as a member of the youth protection team. Originally, his plan to develop into a probationary party member and be promoted to vice captain also failed.
Since then, my parents have been grateful for this life-saving grace, which is why they have done everything mentioned above. However, they understood that this was not a glorious thing, and that it was still an act of stealing, even though they were forced by hunger. Therefore, they do not want to mention this matter in the next life, and it has become an unspeakable past for our future generations.
Uncle Genzhu also felt that although he was not a prisoner and a thief, he was inevitably suspected. As a result, they have been tight-lipped about the matter for many years, and even in their twilight years they have not been willing to touch on this sensitive topic. Judging by the morality of their generation, both sides have an inexplicable sense of guilt and shame.
In fact, this is also a common problem of people who seek moral perfection, and they will never forgive their faults in behavior because of the existence of objective conditions. After listening to my father's narration, I was also moved to tears. It turns out that there is such a touching story hidden in them.
Later, my father and I attended Uncle Geunju's funeral, and Uncle Geunzhu's son took out one of his father's bills, which detailed the money and goods that my family had given them over the decades, along with a deposit slip and a message slip. The message was to the effect: When I was alive, it seems a little unreasonable to return these money and goods to you, and only after my death will my son transfer it on my behalf, please accept it.
My father and I looked at the crumpled and worn note, and for a moment our hearts were filled with mixed feelings, and we didn't know what to do.