正文
Boy on the Street Car He looks no older than my nephew. Seven, maybe? Eyes wide open, fearless, wild as a young creature who has too much energy inside that tiny body. The world outside the window grabs his attention like a magnet. His grandparents, both wrapped in thick jackets, speak their native tongue to the boy, hushing him as if pinning down a startled bird. They try to get him sit on their side. The boy refuses. A beautiful foreign language flows out of his little mouth, with strong glottal stops and liquid glides. His little hands on the soundproof glass as if the world outside is a big birthday cake. One summer, when I was the boy's age, my uncle drove me back from Tianjin to our home in Tanggu. It was so hot in his diesel truck that my other uncle fell asleep before we hit the country road. But, the heat seemed to have no effect on me. Like the boy on the street car, I inhaled all the scenery with my seven-year-old eyes. We visited one of my great-aunt who was not feeling well at the time. I stayed with her family for a week, and my accent almost changed! I cannot recall what was going on in my head while the dry summer wind blowing right into my face through the rolled-down window, but I did have a sense of pride, or something like that, in front of my friends who had never rode in a big truck traveling between cities. A lot happened that year. I started elementary school; then the great earth quake in Tangshan, which almost wiped out its whole population; Chairman Mao also died that year. That was the first public funeral I ever attended. Little girls of my school cried as if their own grandpa had died. One girl cried with such skill that she made me laugh. I giggled with my head bowed down. I don’t know what exactly I have seen in the little boy on the street car. It is his eyes, dark, wild and full of curiosity. There is also uncertainty and fragility in those young, artless eyes. No one understands his language on the street car. But the boy can care less. Something like a smile runs across his face when engine picks up speed. :3/31/05
周五快乐:)
A Street Car Named Desire: a desire to see the world through our own eyes
sweet memory:)