Good Days and Bad Days

By Wu Wenning

Michel de Montaigne,the famous French writer,once said that bad days should be spent quickly while good days should be savored.

However,there’re no fixed criteria to identify good or bad days;the judgment only comes from one’s own experience.

After graduation,I was assigned to work in a remote mountain area.My girlfriend’s family thought I was good-for-nothing and forced her to break up with me.One night,at just past twelve,one of my childhood friends,Erwa turned up at my door at the school where I worked.He seemed to have walked a long mountain road,hair tangled and face dirty.He was wearing an old military coat,hands deep in his trouser pockets.

I froze for a moment and then came back to my senses.I teased him,“You came all this way to see me empty-handed?”

He produced a bottle of wine from his coat pocket,slammed it on my table.“Well,we’re the same now,” he said.“So,let’s have a drink.”

It seemed he must have lost his girlfriend as well.At that moment,we were in the same boat:sad and lonely.

We were going to drink,but where could we find some appetizers?

There was nothing in my dormitory to go with the wine.Nothing! You couldn’t even see a mouse,let alone food.In the end,I found a pair of chopsticks and a jar of chili paste.

We sat down on the floor,chili paste between us,one chopstick each.Every time we had a sip of wine,we’d dip the chopstick into the chili paste.

法國作家蒙田說過，壞日子，要飛快地“度”；好日子，要停下來細細地品。

其實，好日子與壞日子沒有固定的標準。我的體會緣于我的經歷。

我大學剛畢業時，被分配到一個偏僻的山區，女朋友家嫌我沒出息，斷了我和她的聯系。

有一天晚上，大約十二點以后，我的發小二娃居然找到了我所在學校的單身宿舍，敲響了我的門。當時的他，仿佛走了很長的山路，蓬頭垢面，著一件半舊不舊的軍大衣，兩手吊兒郎當地插在褲兜里。

我先是一愣，繼而緩過神來，打趣他：“大老遠的空手來看我？”

他從大衣口袋里掏出一瓶口子窖，“砰”，頓在我的桌子上：“好了，我現在和你一樣了，起來喝酒吧?！?/p>

不用多說，他一定也失戀了。此時此刻我倆是真正的難兄難弟，形影相吊了。

那就喝吧，可是哪有菜呢？

Soon,the wine was gone.We dug out a half bottle and continued to drink while pouring our hearts out.

That night,the whole world shrank into a cup and we slipped into a drunken stupor on the floor.When the dawn chorus started,we were sound asleep and didn’t know the day had come.In the days that followed,I often drank alcohol at social occasions,where the food was always good.However,something seemed to be missing and I’d be drunk after less than half a pint.The feeling I experienced that night never came back again.

Then I got married.

We didn’t even have money to have a proper wedding and,when my wife and I moved in together,we were so poor that,apart from the full cabinet of my books and her flowers—which covered half a wall—there was hardly anything decent in the house.A student desk served as our cooking bench and the bed was a hand-me-down sofa.

But surprisingly,those hard days didn’t seem to bother us that much.

When the moon was up,and the breeze blew gently,we talked to each other affectionately.We looked to the future.The only annoying thing was that there were mice under our “bed“ and,in the dead of night,I often heard them carrying on like they owned the place.At first,we turned on the light,got up,and chased them.But,eventually,we simply forgave them—we were all the same;why couldn’t we be more tolerant?

When our son was around six or seven,I went to a neighboring city for my postgraduate studies.For convenience,I sent him to a private school in the city and my wife became a teacher there.

I was already in my thirties and our family was still poor.We were living a plain life,but we were happy.

I remember one day,when I was back home,I’d been thinking of taking my son to the city to have a look around.He asked me softly,“Daddy,would you take me to McDonald’s?” I felt in my pocket;there was seventy or more yuan in there—but there wouldn’t be much left over for bus fares if we went there.

I lowered my head and whispered in his ear,“McDonald’s is so expensive.Both of us are studying and we don’t have money for that.”

“How about we just go in and have a look? No one knows we don’t have money anyway,” he said.“Maybe if you can afford something,you could squeeze my hand and let me know?”

Seeing his clear and innocent eyes,I agreed and gave him five.Sure enough,almost everything was out of our price range.But fortunately,my son’s little hands stayed in my pockets,warm and sweaty.

The young girl at the counter kept recommending set meals and my son kept shaking his head.Then we found out that we could get French fries by themselves for only a dozen yuan.My heart almost missed a beat,and my son felt my excitement and looked up at me.I squeezed his little hand without saying anything.

That day,we got an order of fries and some ketchup,for fourteen yuan.My son was only seven years old then.

Gradually our life was becoming better and,sometimes,the three of us would go to upscale restaurants.However,French fries have always been my son’s favorite,and nothing else can compete.French fries are pretty ordinary,but to my son and me,they are part of our precious memories;they are cherished.

So really,it’s hard to simply distinguish good days from bad days.If your life is full of passion,warmth,and affection for your family,then why are you unhappy?The reason I tell you these stories isn’t to win sympathy,but to recall and savor the good life.

(FromXin’an Evening News.Translation:Liu Lili)

單身宿舍，沒有什么佐酒的東西，連老鼠都沒有，能有什么？關鍵時刻，找到了一雙筷子，半瓶辣椒糊。

我們席地而坐，辣椒糊放在中間，筷子一人一支，然后是喝一口酒，蘸一點辣椒糊。

一瓶口子窖喝完了，又扒出大半瓶柳浪春，繼續喝，相互傾訴。

那一夜，世界濃縮到杯盞之中，不知不覺，兩人就在席上睡著了。當鳥兒在窗前啁啾的時候，我們相互枕藉而眠，不知東方之既白。

后來的日子，我應酬時也常喝酒，酒菜也算豐富，但總覺得應酬的酒少了點什么，大多喝不到半斤就醉，再也找不到那晚的感覺了。

后來，我終于結婚了。

我和妻子搬到一起的時候，還沒有條件舉行婚禮，依然是家徒四壁。除了我滿柜的書和她半墻的花，家里幾乎沒有什么像樣的東西。灶臺是一張學生課桌，床是別人送給我們的一張舊沙發。

但那段日子似乎也沒有增添我們的苦痛。

每當明月半墻、風移影動之時，居然也有不少悄悄話，更有對未來的憧憬。只可氣沙發床底下竟然是老鼠窩，常在夜深人靜之時，聽到它們吱吱地打情罵俏，仿佛它們才是家的主人。我們先是掌燈起來驅趕，后來索性原諒了它們，都是貧賤夫妻，何苦不能相容？

后來有了兒子，他六七歲時我又去鄰城的大學讀研究生。為了方便照顧，我把兒子送到一家私立學校，妻子也跟去做了老師。

那時的我已經三十好幾，家里不說是瓶無儲粟，也好不到哪兒去。日子艱辛，但我們依然開心快樂地生活著。

記得有一天，我從學校趕回去，準備接兒子去市里逛逛。兒子對我小聲說：“爸爸，你帶我去麥當勞嗎？”

我摸了一下自己的口袋，里面還有七十幾塊錢。如果扣去坐公交的錢和我去學校的路費，估計不會剩下多少了。

我低下頭在他耳邊小聲說：“麥當勞的東西好貴，你在上學，爸也在上學，家里沒錢?！?/p>

兒子卻說：“我們就去看一下，不買。別人又不知道我們沒錢。要是你能買得起，就捏一下我的手唄?！?/p>

看著兒子那清澈如水的眼神，我們擊掌為盟。

麥當勞的東西當然在我們的承受能力之上。好在兒子的手一直在我的褲兜里，都焐出了汗。

吧臺的小姐姐推薦一個又一個套餐的時候，兒子一直在搖頭，直到我們發現一款炸薯條可以零賣，而且只要十幾塊。我的心幾乎跳了起來，兒子也感受到了我的激動，抬起頭看看我。我沒說話，只是捏了捏他的小手。

那天，買了一份炸薯條，外加一份番茄醬，花了十四元。兒子那年才七歲。

后來日子好過了，我們一家三口也去過上檔次的酒家，但兒子一直都說，其他東西他不太稀罕，就是特別喜歡炸薯條。炸薯條只是一份普通零嘴，但我知道，在我和兒子的心中，那可能是一份難忘的回憶。

所以，好日子壞日子很難區分，假如你的生活充滿激情、溫情和親情，那又有什么不快樂呢？今天，我把這些當作故事來說的時候，并不是為了博取別人的同情，更多的可是對生活的回味與品嘗呢。

（摘自《新安晚報》2021年4月26日）