Buy grain (short story)

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Buy grain (short story)

Text/Sun Changguo
When the neighbor’s chicken crowed for the first time, Geng Changfu got up. In fact, I didn’t sleep much all night. For three days, except for a full belly of boiled water, I didn’t touch my teeth. How can I sleep steadily?
The production team’s warehouse has long been out of food. The eldest brother and the second brother run out to dig wild vegetables every day, and sometimes they can’t dig less than half a basket on the 30-40-mile mountain road. After all, every household’s food is not plentiful. The child’s mother hasn’t had milk since she gave birth to three boys. The child cries with hunger every day. Poor big Ni ‘er is only seven years old, but every day she holds three children in her arms and asks others to find milk to eat. Er Nizi is only five years old, and she sits motionless in the corner like a sick little Yaner every day. That’s hungry …
With the faint light coming through the window, he glanced at the five children lying on the heatable adobe sleeping platform, and his empty heart suddenly became tighter.
At noon yesterday, he heard from the people who came back from Miao Mountain that there was a need for a large number of grass stalks on the construction site where the reservoir was built in Changzhuang, and he was wondering about a handful of grass left at home, which might be sold. Thinking of this, he put on a broken cotton-padded jacket and got up. He went to the kang and said something to the child’s mother, and then he went on his way with a straw.
It’s still a little cold in early spring, and I haven’t eaten for a few days. The 40-50-mile walk from home to Miaoshan feels particularly long. The sun climbed up the mountain and only walked more than ten miles, but the sweat on my face rolled like beans and fell down one by one. The wild vegetables on the roadside, including the tender leaves that are a little green, have long been picked up. At least I saw an elm tree, and Changfu broke off a branch and put it in my mouth to chew, so I felt a little full in my heart.
After barely walking more than ten miles, Changfu only felt that his footsteps were getting more and more stumbling and his head was getting heavier and heavier. He kept telling himself that he couldn’t fall down, and there were still several mouths at home waiting for him to get food back, but a fishy smell came to his throat, and then he didn’t know anything.
When he woke up again, he first saw the face of a People’s Liberation Army, and then fixed his eyes, only to find himself lying in the arms of another People’s Liberation Army. The People’s Liberation Army he saw was looking at him with a kettle.
"Hometown, what’s wrong with you? What’s wrong with you?" The PLA man with a kettle asked.
"I’m fine, maybe I just walked too much and was tired." Changfu replied.
Oh, take a sip of water and have a rest.
Looking at the kettle handed over by the People’s Liberation Army, Changfu said with a wry smile: "Thank you, Comrade. To tell you the truth, I haven’t eaten for two or three days, and my stomach is full of water. I really don’t want to drink it."
"I haven’t eaten for two or three days, so what are you?" ……
"There is really nothing to eat at home. I heard that there is a need for straw to build a water reservoir in Changzhuang. I want to try it in the past and stutter at home."
The air seemed to condense in an instant, and Changfu clearly saw the tears rolling out of the determined eyes of the two PLA men. They went to the side and muttered for a while. They came to Changfu and said, "Hometown, it’s still a long way to Changzhuang. Besides, people may not be able to collect your straw after going there. Just because the army needs straw, we will collect it and give you 20 Jin of sticks. What do you think?"
Twenty pounds, this load of straw is put aside at ordinary times, but even five pounds of sticks can’t be exchanged. All of a sudden, I gave twenty pounds, and Changfu didn’t believe his ears. At that time, he stammered. Two PLA men threw straw into the Bucket of the truck, and handed half a bag of sticks to Changfu’s hand, accompanied by two raw sweet potatoes: "Hometown, now the country is in trouble, we have to grit our teeth and get through it. These two sweet potatoes were given to you by us, so you should eat a cushion first." They drove away before Changfu could export the words of gratitude.
When it was dark, Changfu saw the crooked-necked tree at the head of the village and two monkey children waiting under it.
"Dad is back …" Seeing him from afar, the second child trotted over and spread out his dirty little hand: "Today, my eldest brother and I went to the Arnebia euchroma to dig vegetables and found a handful of soft dates for dad to eat." Zicaowa, it’s almost the border of the neighboring county. Looking at the soft dates in the children’s hands, Changfu couldn’t help but have a sour nose: "Good boy, go back and call your mother, say that Dad has bought food and come out to push it …"
When the water was boiling and the noodle was ready to be cooked, Changfu handed the child his mother two sweet potatoes, and one of them took a bite. Looking at the tooth marks on the sweet potatoes, the child’s mother didn’t say a word, and the tears in her eyes were scattered in the boiling water with the noodle, which made a beautiful splash.
About the author: Sun Changguo, pen name Damu, a native of Laiwu District, Jinan City, now lives in Boshan District, Zibo City. Vice chairman of Boshan Writers Association, director of Zibo Writers Association, member of Jinan Writers Association and member of Shandong Writing Society.
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