愛(ài)在那個(gè)夏天

　　She was fond of Strauss, KFC, and Brazil Espresso. Dressed in decent grey professional skirt suit, she was busy working in a modernized office mansion. That was her life before meeting me. Ever since our dating all those have vanished.

　　It was in 1997 when I started my so-called "great business". She followed me wholeheartedly. That summer came early. Flowers dyed the town dazzlingly red. We stayed in the outskirts, in a small room of a condo known as an illegal structure of this city. Wind blew through all the four walls into the room, then home of her and me.

　　In order to save money, we walked to our store downtown every day. Lunches were always simple like doggie food, worth no more than 1.5 yuan for each of us. We walked back home at the end of the day, so beat that all we wanted was collapse into bed. It seemed that we made it through one whole year this way.

　　Those days were bitter. Business was my totem; love was her belief. Both supported us from falling apart.

　　We walked home late one day. She sat at the bed edge, washing her feet in a bucket on the floor. I went to the landlord for boiled water to make instant noodle. When I got back carrying a thermos bottle, she fell back into the bed sound asleep, feet in water. She must have been extremely exhausted. One of her hands was under her body. I heard her light snore.

　　I tiptoed to the bed and tried to flip her over so that she would be in a more comfortable position. I stared at her face, which was a young and pretty one and yet so wearied and exhausted.

　　I saw one mosquito on this pretty face.

　　That summer my city was like a huge steamer box. We put off one day to another the plan to buy a mosquito net, just to save money. I knew mosquitos were flying all about in our room, but I seemed not to be bothered. So exhausted when I got back each day, I doubted if I would wake up even though someone cut a piece of flesh off my body, let alone mosquito bites.

　　That mosquito stayed at her forehead, sipping her blood greedily. She was still sound asleep, not feeling anything. Perhaps she was in a sweet dream in which our business was turning better. There came an abrupt throb of my heart. I reached to wave my hand at the mosquito. But it was not at all scared. I wanted to bat it to death. I raised my hand up high, but it could not descend. I was afraid of waking her up — she was really worn out.

　　There lay a weak mosquito between her and me, doing harm to her right now. I froze there, hand in the air. I did not know what to do. I was worried. Suddenly, I began to get deeply fed up with myself. I hated me.

　　On the night of that summer, I stood by her side, feeling extremely guilty of her, of our love.

　　The mosquito finally flew away. I forgave it, but I could never forgive myself.

　　In the daytime I went by a peddler's stall and saw a pink mosquito net priced 16 yuan. That amount could be spent on a lot of dealings at that time. I headed back home without buying it. After she fell asleep, I got out of bed, stood by her side, and waved away mosquitos with a hard paper board as a weapon. I was her temporary mosquito net all that night through. After a while she woke up to find what I was doing. She gazed at me, and ten minutes later tears flooded her face.

　　The next day saw a pink mosquito net in my room. We were both silent working together to fix it on our bed. In my mind I had presented the net as a gift to her. I did not tell her that it was a gift. I was feeling that it was like a rose in full bloom. It was my compensation to love. Then I realized that nothing could really make it up. It was her birthday that day.

　　Years went by. And I made 160,000 yuan, or precisely we made 160,000 yuan. We did a lot of shopping, but never a mosquito net any more. We did not need any mosquito net. We live in a very well decorated apartment, where no mosquitos could fly in.

　　Nevertheless, I always feel that all these money, and all my belongings are far less important than the 16-yuan mosquito net, which was invaluable to her, to our love.

　　That summer was past. We had no choice but to love each other.

　　=====================================

　　我知道她聽(tīng)施特勞斯，吃肯德基，喝巴西現(xiàn)磨，穿著得體的灰色套裙在寫(xiě)字樓里自在地忙碌。但那只是以前。后來(lái)，她與我相戀，這一切便消失了。

　　記得是1997年。那一年，我開(kāi)始了自己所謂的事業(yè)，她跟著我，義無(wú)反顧。那個(gè)夏天來(lái)得特別早，花兒染得城市一片彤紅。我們住在市郊，一個(gè)屬于非法建筑的小屋，四壁透風(fēng)。那是我們暫時(shí)的家。

　　為了省錢(qián)，每天我們步行至市區(qū)的店鋪，中午買(mǎi)兩份一塊五毛錢(qián)一碗的涼皮，晚上再步行回來(lái)，累得骨頭散架。好像，整整一年，都是那樣熬過(guò)來(lái)的。

　　那是一段艱苦和心酸的日子。那時(shí)，事業(yè)是我的圖騰，愛(ài)情是她的信仰。那是支撐我們沒(méi)有倒下去的全部。

　　有一次，記得很晚了，我們步行至臨時(shí)的家，她坐在床沿洗腳，我去房東那里討開(kāi)水泡面。當(dāng)我提著暖水瓶返回時(shí)，我發(fā)現(xiàn)，她已經(jīng)睡著了。

　　她保持著一種疲勞至極的姿勢(shì)，兩只腳仍在臉盆里泡著，人卻已斜倒在床上。她的身體壓著自己的一只胳膊，于是，有了輕微的鼾聲。

　　我輕輕地走過(guò)去，想翻動(dòng)一下她的身軀，讓她睡得更舒服。我盯著她的臉，那是一張年輕美麗的臉，此時(shí)卻寫(xiě)滿疲憊。

　　在這張臉上，我發(fā)現(xiàn)了一只蚊子。

　　那個(gè)夏天，城市像個(gè)巨大的蒸籠，可為了省錢(qián)，我們一天天向后推著買(mǎi)蚊帳的時(shí)間。我知道屋里到處都是蚊子，但我好像感覺(jué)不到。那樣勞累的身體，睡下了，別說(shuō)蚊子，切下一塊肉，我都懷疑自己能不能醒來(lái)。

　　蚊子趴在她的額頭，貪婪地吸食著她的血。她睡得很香，毫無(wú)察覺(jué)，也許正做著生意好轉(zhuǎn)的夢(mèng)。我的心猛地抽搐了一下，伸出手，揮動(dòng)著，但蚊子對(duì)我的恐嚇并不理睬。想用手拍死它，手揚(yáng)著，卻不忍拍下去。我怕驚醒了她——她已經(jīng)那樣地疲憊。

　　我與她之間，有一只弱小的蚊子，此刻正對(duì)她實(shí)施著傷害。我站在那里，就那樣揚(yáng)著手，愣著，矛盾著，心焦著，突然間，我對(duì)自己產(chǎn)生出一種深深的厭惡。

　　在那個(gè)夏天的夜晚，我站在那里。那是一種極端虧欠的感覺(jué)。對(duì)她，對(duì)愛(ài)情。

　　蚊子飛走了，我原諒了蚊子，卻不能夠原諒自己。

　　白天經(jīng)過(guò)一個(gè)小攤，我注意到一個(gè)粉色蚊帳的標(biāo)簽：16元。這16元在當(dāng)時(shí)，可以做許多事。那天我一夜沒(méi)睡，我拿著一個(gè)硬紙板揮動(dòng)著，像一名士兵，不讓蚊蟲(chóng)靠近她的身體。我成了她臨時(shí)的蚊帳。后來(lái)她醒了，醒后的她盯著我看，10分鐘后，我突然發(fā)現(xiàn)她淚流滿面。

　　第二天，小屋里掛上了粉色的蚊帳。掛蚊帳時(shí)，我們一直沒(méi)有說(shuō)話。我是把蚊帳當(dāng)成禮物送給她的，但我沒(méi)說(shuō)。我覺(jué)得那像一朵盛開(kāi)的玫瑰，就算是愛(ài)情的補(bǔ)償。但我覺(jué)得，其實(shí)什么也補(bǔ)償不了。那天，也是她的生日。

　　再后來(lái)，有一段時(shí)間，我有了16萬(wàn)，或者說(shuō)我們有了16萬(wàn)，我們買(mǎi)了很多東西，卻沒(méi)有再買(mǎi)一床蚊帳。我們已經(jīng)不再需要蚊帳了，裝修嚴(yán)密的房間，已經(jīng)飛不進(jìn)一只蚊蟲(chóng)。

　　可是，我總覺(jué)得，這些錢(qián)，這些東西，遠(yuǎn)不如那個(gè)曾經(jīng)16元錢(qián)的蚊帳，對(duì)她有價(jià)值，或者說(shuō)，對(duì)我們的愛(ài)情，有價(jià)值。

　　那個(gè)夏天過(guò)去了，我們別無(wú)選擇，只能相愛(ài)。