Turn the Clock Back

Im sure I saw heaven just now.

The light was harsh followed by vast whiteness. I had never felt such tranquility before， even the colic that accompanied organ failure disappeared at this time. I felt myself light， without heartbeat， without heavy body. If I stretched forward， I could embrace all of whole heaven.

Suddenly， for a moment， I became heavy again. The scene of heaven was gone， only to see the anxious doctors in white.

I really dont like having so many tubes in my body;Im not a work of performance art.

I laughed when I heard a wail from the nearby ventilator.I knew.I could finally see heaven again.

I fell into a sound deep sleep and ended my eighty-two-year-long life.

My memory became more and more clear in my mind; these memories made up a lifelong film. I tried opening my eyes to have a detailed view of my film， only to see a doctor wearing glasses. He touched my forehead and admonished me “Buddy， the next time you turn off the ventilator， Ill put you in another ward keeping you under 24 hours surveillance.” I had failed to die， again.

Over the next few months，I still pondered a number of approaches to get free of the cold medical equipment but did not put them into action because those cunning doctors secretly paid more attention to me as if to be ready to save me from dangerous behavior at any moment. However， to my surprise， they removed those annoying tubes from me， one after another， in a few days. I inquired to my nurse about the doctors abnormal behaviour. She told me in secret that my physical condition was taking a turn for the better， but the doctors hadnt figured out the reasons yet. I suddenly realized that my body was actually getting hale; my teeth were becoming less loose， and even my white hair was turning gray or black. My rapid recovery pleased but also confused the doctors. It seemed that， in their words， “the clock has turned back.” In other words， I had regained my freedom; in other words， a new life.

I was discharged from the nursing house in even a much healthier condition than twenty years ago. I began to live the life I had before I went to the nursing house. As a single retired old man， I kept my daily routine tirelessly every day： going to the morning market to buy basic food， listening to the radio or watching television in my sofa and walking along the Garden Street. As for me， this was the most familiar lane in the city because I had walked along it every day for almost twenty years until the day my heavy body had put me in the bed of nursing house. This was the longest lasting habit I had ever kept and a secret at the bottom of my heart.

During the past twenty years， at dusk， I would go to the Garden Street to take a walk; regardless of the seasons or weather， I never skipped one day. Do you know why？ Because Qiu lived there. I knew which block， which unit she lived in and which one was the window of her house. The balcony of her house was filled will flowers and green plants of all kinds. I could see the pot of camellia blooming as fiery as scarlet. I knew it must be her who planted such a nice plant because she was a green thumb as well as a plant lover indeed.

I always felt guilty to Qiu; I had called her by the nickname， Qiu， since the year we began dating. I admit that I was a jerk， not a good husband. I had given her nothing in our marriage， but took all of her attention and kindness for granted. Her tolerance and generosity had transferred me from a stubborn youth into a more stubborn middle-aged selfish man. Everything changed， however， overnight. One day， we had the biggest quarrel， and also the last one， of our marriage. This time， neither of us was willing to surrender and make a compromise. Our marriage ended with divorce at last. It was rumored that Qiu married a physically challenged man who treated her quite well shortly after the divorce. I also tried dating different kinds of women but failed to forget Qiu. From that moment， I knew that I would be alone for the rest of my life.

Every time I passed her balcony from below， I stood there for a moment， looking at the balcony， looking at that pot of camellia， seeing if the light was on， seeing if she was watering the flowers on the balcony. The pot of camellia was always incredibly still alive. I enjoyed looking at that color of fire. On the balcony， the shadow of the flowers and plants reflected on the window; in the shadow of the flowers and plants there would always be a figure of a woman watering or fiddling with flowers. The shadow of Qiu and flowers， like paper-cuts engraved in the windows， with the lights on; even if I couldnt see her face， just looking at this shadow. I was also very satisfied.

On one sunny morning， I went outdoors， wandering in that city that I had lived in for eighty two years. I stepped into the familiar Garden Road again without noticing it， until two lines of maple trees came into my sight. I raised my head up to find the pot of camellia on the balcony. It was gone！I changed my position， rubbing my eyes， but still failed to find it. Whats wrong with the camellia？ Was there any one who took care of it？ Did she fall ill？ All these questions compelled me to dash to her block and rush upstairs. I was amazed at my passion and swiftness， which had been dead for almost half a century. I knocked at the red wood door looking forward to a response nervously， wondering how Qiu would react to my unexpected visit. I neatened my clothing in a hurry and tried putting up my warmest smile.

The door was answered by a man sitting in a wheelchair. He must be Qius husband， I thought. Before I introduced myself， he seemed astonished to me， with his eyes round opened and his mouth murmuring something inaudible. After a few seconds of silence， he finally invited me into the house; he must have recognized me. The house was tidy and bright. Near the balcony， there were shelves full of gardening tools and fertilizer， along with the pot of camellia with a pair of scissors and its dry twigs around it. To my relief， it was still alive and Qiu was taking good care of it. I told him my purpose for the visit politely but he took a deaf ear to it. I repeated it again， receiving no answer. I was a little annoyed but restrained my anger to show my politeness. “Im not her husband， whether in the past or future.” He said in an extremely calm voice leaving me puzzled. He continued， “She is my sister and died of cancer five years ago.” I was paralyzed with shock.

“You are lying. I still saw her on the balcony yesterday.”

“Did you see her face or her shadow？”

“Shadow…”

“She knew you have passed the balcony on purpose every day for years. So， she also kept working on the balcony at dusk for years only to let you see her to not disappoint you. The year she left you. she was diagnosed cancer. She didnt want to be a burden to you so she had planned out the big quarrel followed by the divorce because she knew you well. How foolish she was！ Until the last minute of her life， she was still thinking of you on her death bed. She exhorted me to put up her shadow on the balcony at dusk every day after her death， or you would have been worried and confused. I followed her injunction only to not betray her rather than for your feelings. So， for five years， I have taken the best care to her favorite camellia， as she exhorted.”

It was typical Qiu's style; she always put me as the priority， always being foolish to accommodate me by sacrificing herself. I was the chief culprit in our broken marriage， of her unfortunate lonely twilight life. I picked up the pot of camellia with my bitter tears bursting. The silent man suddenly became soft， saying， “My sister said if one day you finally went upstairs to find the truth after her death， to take the camellia with you in memory of her. She never felt regretful for having met you， loved you， and married you. She didn't want you to be sad or regretful about the result. But as her brother， I will never forgive you. You deserve all the sorrow and regrets for the rest of your life. Take the flower away and never come back.” I wept incessantly， with my very soul seared by suffering， haunted by the memory， the smile， the voice.

When I gradually regained consciousness， a sweet and gentle voice danced in my ear; then I opened my eyes to see the familiar smile. Qiu was at my bedside waking me from the nightmare， “Brand new day！ Brand new year！” I threw my arms around her shoulders， hoping the clock would stop at this second.

“Im sorry. Sorry...for all the mess I made. I thought I had lost you.”

She burst in to laugh suddenly， “Whats wrong with you？ Hurry up！ Lets get prepared for tonights gathering！” Well， the calender told me that today was the Chinese New Year.

On the family reunion party at my moms home， we all had a good time with the big family. My mom led Qiu to the balcony and gave her a pot of red camellia as a new year present. Qiu showed it to me like a child who was exhibiting her favourite toy. I couldnt believe that the camellia that I had seen for so many in the years， in “the future，” was a gift from my mom to Qiu.

“Lets take care of it together！”

“Deal！”

My mom looked at us pleasantly and broke into a fit of giggles. Qiu offered to take a family photo together. My mom nodded to agree but tottered to her bedroom suddenly. She came back with a string of pearls about her neck. We all laughed out happily at her cute behaviour. She responded slowly with blush， “I just want to be more beautiful in the photo，” she paused for a while， “Where is the annoying old man？ He is never on time; everyone is waiting for him.” Our laughter suddenly froze in the air， and I had a mixed feeling in my heart because the “annoying old man” was my father， who had been dead for years. Mom was suffering from senile dementia so sometimes in her memory， father was still alive. Nobody knew how to react to her question. Qiu responded to mom gently， “He is in the bathroom. We can take the photo without him in secret. When he comes back， he will be surprised at how beautiful you are in the photo.” Mom agreed with Qiu with a sly smile like a child who tricked her friend successfully. We gathered together before the camera， smiling happily with mixed feelings， except my mom， who laughed pleasantly like an innocent girl. With the countdown of one to three， the flash lamp worked; I lost consciousness.

There came the sound of running water along with the singing of a man and a woman in the kitchen. The song lingered in my mind that it seemed from the last century. I followed the voice， coming to the kitchen; my mom and dad were preparing a meal gaily. I ran to them gladly and wanted to give them a warm hug from the back; however， when I rushed to them and spread my arms， I found that I was only as tall as the height of their waists. They turned back almost at the same time. Almost a decade had passed since the last time I saw them at such a young age.

Tears piled up in my eyes; the horizon was a blur.

“Where have you been？ Hurry to wash your hands and get ready for the dinner.”

I wiped my tears and responded proudly， “I went to save the world just now！”

“Didnt you go to play video games in the bar？ Dont trick me！”

“Yeah， video games， I still cant fool you.”

That night， I lost my sleep， lying in bed tossing and turning. I had a moment of confusion whether it was the young me dreaming of the old me or the opposite， or this was a journey in heaven. Whatever， ‘Life is a journey， we are all pedestrians. At this moment， I finally had the courage along with relief.

When dawn broke， I closed my eyes slowly and forever.

作者簡介

许诺（2000.05—），女，汉族，辽宁沈阳人，本科，学生，研究方向：英语翻译。

大连外国语大学  辽宁  大连  116041