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墨書 Inktalez
From home to Garden Middle School, there are mainly two main roads. By the time I reached the Third Day of the New Year, perhaps because of my cousin from Dingjia Village who had come to stay, or perhaps due to my frequent visits to Grandma's House for a change of pace, I had discovered another route: starting directly from Grandma's or Second Aunt's house, crossing over a not-too-high ridge and traversing a long canyon, arriving at the junction where I would usually set out from my own home, known as Reverse Flow. From there, I could either take a ferry across the river to Nanjia Bay and Golden Lion, entering the school from the back mountain, or follow the dirt road along Tiao Shui River all the way upstream to Garden Street, crossing the bridge and walking along the main road to the school gate.
This route is longer in total distance compared to the previous two when accounting for the distance from home to Grandma's or Second Aunt's house. However, if we exclude that initial segment, it saves quite a bit of time. Although the stretch from Grandma's House and Second Aunt's house to Reverse Flow is entirely mountainous terrain, it has been well-trodden for a long time, with most paths paved with cobblestones or flagstones. Moreover, it provides an opportunity to escape some strenuous physical labor at Grandma's and Second Aunt's houses while replenishing much-needed nutrients during my growth spurt. Gradually, I began to prefer this route for my school commutes.
One autumn afternoon, after having lunch at Grandma's House, I packed my bag and set off. As I passed by Second Aunt's house, I learned that my cousin Yunhuang had already left some time ago. Noticing that the sky looked somewhat overcast, I didn’t linger and quickly resumed my pace.
The gloomy weather combined with being alone made me walk a bit faster. In just over ten minutes, I had crossed over the ridge. As I caught my breath at the top of the hill, I noticed that dark clouds were gathering more densely overhead; a downpour was imminent. The long canyon before me stretched over a kilometer with no shelter in sight. Without any rain gear on me, if I couldn’t make it out before the rain started, I would be drenched.
Taking a deep breath, I began to run downhill with momentum. The path was winding but wide and firm compared to the rural paddy fields and small trails in the mountains; I didn’t need to watch my footing too closely to avoid falling. Occasionally encountering streams or flooded areas, I managed to leap over them nimbly—only once did I step into one, splattering mud all over my pants. But there was no time to stop and check.
Having run about a third of the way down, raindrops as big as soybeans suddenly began to fall—first a few scattered ones, then a torrential downpour. At this rate, by the time I exited the canyon, my clothes would be completely soaked; I needed to find shelter from the rain.
Through the thick curtain of rain, I searched ahead: there were plenty of large trees on both sides of the mountain, but their steep slopes made climbing up impossible; besides, my parents had always warned me not to seek shelter under tall trees during storms due to lightning strikes—one child from our platoon had been struck while seeking refuge under a tree during a thunderstorm.
Suddenly, something caught my eye (not lightning): there was a thatch shed on the right side of the mountain wall.
Without thinking twice, I turned towards the right side of the paddy field and quickened my pace. As I approached the mountain wall, ignoring the thornbushes and weeds growing above it, I surged forward even faster. My right foot pushed off hard against the paddy field while my left foot landed on the mountain wall; both hands grasped tightly onto grass on the ground—some fingers even sank into damp soil—as my body pressed firmly against the wall to prevent slipping down. Once steadying myself, I looked up; there was still a three or four-meter steep slope left on this cliffside. Using both hands and feet together, I climbed up as best as I could.
Finally grabbing hold of a small tree at the edge of the wall with both hands, I pulled myself up onto a flatter area above. Looking ahead about ten meters away was that thatch shed; covering my head with my arms again, I sprinted toward it until I threw myself inside—exhausted and covered in various leaves and thorns.
After catching my breath for several minutes, I began examining my surroundings: this shed must have been built by local farmers to protect their crops or gardens. The roof was tightly covered; outside, rain fell heavily enough to obscure visibility completely while inside showed no signs of leaking at all; fresh straw lay thickly on the ground. However, since crops had already been harvested and no one needed constant supervision anymore, there was nothing else left inside.
After waiting for about an hour as the rain gradually lessened and finally stopped, I stepped out of the thatch shed ready to continue on my way. Carefully retracing my steps back along where I'd come from beside the mountain wall made me recoil upon glancing down: from below in the paddy field up to where I'd climbed was about ten meters steeply inclined with sparse wild grass and thornbushes growing along it. Normally speaking, there was no way I'd be able to climb back up (later on sunny days when trying this spot again proved futile every single time). Thankfully now that it had stopped raining there was no need for haste; instead I could look for another way down.
Following a small path worn by others through the mountains took only a few minutes before reaching Tiao Shui River’s edge. After just an hour of rainwater had risen several inches in level while losing its usual clarity—it now appeared murky yellow. Perhaps sensing rainfall earlier on his part—the old man who usually ferried boats wasn’t around; his boat remained docked across on the other side. After shouting for some time without seeing anyone appear in response meant continuing along riverbank further ahead would be necessary—a detour across Garden Street would add two or three miles compared to crossing here directly.
Due to taking shelter from rain earlier wasted considerable time yet having expended so much energy running ahead meant dragging heavy feet slowly became inevitable now.
Hurrying along again after three or four miles brought me close enough—around one kilometer away from Garden Street’s corner—to see Tiao Shui River flowing gently on my right side when suddenly an idea struck me: why not wade across? Having been strictly forbidden by parents against swimming since childhood left me without any swimming skills whatsoever; coupled with being shorter than average due late development meant facing such large rivers like Liao Shui always required either taking boats or bridges—never once wading through water before today! But now it felt too late; if not hurried soon enough darkness would fall before reaching school—not only missing dinner but likely delaying breakfast preparations tomorrow morning too! No more dawdling towards Garden Street—I’d have no choice but take this shortcut!
Choosing what appeared calmest spot along riverbank surface allowed me remove sandals stuffing them into backpack while rolling pant legs up high before balancing pack atop head cautiously stepping into water below feeling trepidation rise within me! Barefoot sinking into muddy sand felt coolness wash away some fear as water only reached calf height allowing tension ease slightly enabling strides grow steadier & bolder!
Gradually riverbed shifted beneath feet transforming mud into smooth pebbles until water crept past knee level causing anxiety return—but glancing back revealed nearing halfway point already! Retreating wasn’t in character nor did time permit so onward pressed despite rising current!
Suddenly waters surged ahead becoming swift & deeper causing me halt mid-step pondering next move silently…
After lingering moment without hesitation emerged determination overriding concern regarding wet pants & flowing river below—I fixed gaze upon opposite bank resolutely advancing forward step by careful step!
Water now lapping thigh-high while toes struggled gripping slippery stones causing body sway & splashes leaping onto face yet still maintaining forward momentum…
Endless minutes dragged by until finally flow calmed down lowering levels enough allowing safe passage across successfully completed journey!
Remaining distance faded into mundane memory thereafter…
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