That Day, I Saw My Class Teacher, Wanting to Cry and Wanting to Laugh

That day, I saw my elementary school class teacher, wanting to cry and wanting to laugh. Under the wash of years, he grew old, all his hair turned white, he stooped over, his movements slow, like a rotten log, enduring his final days.

I.,

He walked shakily, and a shallow ditch appeared in front of him, left by pipe laying and similar work.

He tried to cross it, but several times he failed. His body was no longer able to maintain balance, like a piece of straw, he could be easily knocked down.

I immediately recognized him, but he was so different from the rigorous and authoritative teacher of that year.

I approached and gently stroked his smooth, oily bamboo stick, which he had prepared for us. It was used to discipline us.

Whose homework wasn't done, or was done incorrectly, would be lined up waiting for him to beat our palms with this stick. Some students cried and screamed after being beaten several times, they instinctively retracted their hands when the stick fell again, which would be doubled in punishment.

We were all afraid. The classroom, which was once noisy and lively, fell silent when he coughed once.

III.

He wasn't always disliked. For example, he really liked our class monitor. Whenever he spoke to the monitor, he had a smile on his face and was amiable. He often brought sugar to the monitor, and encouraged the monitor to share it with his parents. Oh, the monitor's father was our school principal.

He couldn't hide his affection for the monitor, so the monitor was the 'one above all others' in our class, whoever dared to oppose him would be punished in his own way, until he admitted his mistake.

That afternoon, I packed my bag and was about to go home. The monitor blocked my way, asking me to sweep the floor for him, I refused, as it was the busy season for farming, my mother insisted that I go home early to help with the harvest, and I couldn't waste time.

The monitor said, 'Dare you defy me?'

I tore open his hand and shouted, 'I'm going home to work.'

Perhaps his resistance hurt him, he shook his hand off, and kicked me. I didn't give in, so I kicked him back. We wrestled. I don't know whether it was just after the teacher or someone else who went to report the situation, anyway, we were caught in the act.

But he didn't ask about the details of the fight, he directly reprimanded me for violating discipline and made me sweep the floor for a whole week.

The monitor smiled triumphantly at me.

Every time I finished sweeping the floor, I ran home, even if that meant I was beaten and scolded by my mother, saying I was deliberately wasting time. I couldn't tell her anything, or I would be beaten even more severely.

IV.

From then on, I never dared to argue with the teacher. I willingly became his small follower. I carried his books, fetched him water, copied his homework, basically, I did anything to serve him.

He didn't like writing homework, so his grades were naturally not good, but he was still the class monitor.

When I was in fifth grade,

Once during physical education class, the physical education teacher made us run on the highway, and then we circled the school.

I ran in the front with the monitor, and after a while I looked back, but no one else followed.

The monitor proposed, 'Let's take a shortcut to school.' I nodded in agreement.

So we turned onto a small road and walked towards the school, climbed a slope, and saw a pond. The pond had a melon field next to it, and there were plump melons lying on the ridges. We were both thirsty and hungry, and when we saw no one around, the monitor said, 'Let's pick one to eat.' I nodded in agreement.

The melon was really sweet, and we devoured it greedily while running towards the school.

When we passed by a village, a big dog suddenly ran towards us, he caught us and growled angrily, 'Did you pick melons from the melon field beside the pond? If you lie, I will feed you to the dog.' A big dog suddenly jumped out and barked at us.

At that moment, we cried and confessed the truth.

We said we had only picked two melons, he didn't believe it, and he didn't go to the melon field to check, so he dragged us to the principal's office to claim compensation.

The principal handed us over to the teacher, and the teacher made me stand in the hallway of the school until I went home.

At that time, there were no mobile phones, I stood in the hallway until I went home. My parents came to pick me up.

V.

At night, my father came, and the teacher said I had instigated other students to steal melons, and I was punished by the school.

No matter how my father pleaded, the teacher didn't care.

I will never forget that scene. My father knelt down and asked for forgiveness. The teacher waved his hand and said, 'It's okay, tomorrow I will give you 100 yuan as compensation.' That 100 yuan was equivalent to selling several bags of rice, which was enough for a family to live for half a year.

On the way home, my father broke a honeysuckle branch beside the road and beat me home, he didn't care about my cries.

My parents didn't care, they thought I was disobedient and caused them trouble, it was better to die.

I cried so much that I ran to the rural health station and begged the doctor to save me. The doctor helped me remove the thorns, and applied an anti-inflammatory medicine.

But after that, I became timid and never argued with anyone, never made mistakes, and even didn't dare to speak loudly, like a frightened bird. This personality accompanied me throughout my growth.

Since graduating from elementary school, I have never seen the teacher again. I didn't expect to see him so many years later, and I was surprised to see him like this.

When he asked me which grade I was in, I wanted to cry and laugh. I realized that I had been afraid of him all these years.

When he asked me my name, I wanted to cry and laugh.

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