On the Footbridge
這是媽媽十九歲時作的。
On the Footbridge
Night
was coming, and the sky was dyed dark purple.
It was time for dinner, and people were going home, with hurrying steps
and eager hearts.
She was
walking alone on the footbridge. It was
a familiar footbridge. She used to walk
past this footbridge to the railway station everyday when she was
studying. And now, she walked past this footbridge
everyday, too, to the bus-stop where she could find a bus which carried her to
the firm in which she was working. And,
of course, she walked past this footbridge whenever she was coming back home,
from school, as well as the firm.
The
heels of her shoes made a repeating, monotonic complaint against the
ground. Her legs were moving, though rather
reluctantly in mechanical pattern. But
she didn’t know whether she was controlling them.
Her job
was nothing exhausting, physically. She
was a clerk, a personnel assistant. The
only thing for which had to use her energy was putting the files onto the upper
shelf – and walking along this footbridge, perhaps.
But she
was tired.
Unconsciously
she felt the pack of documents in her hand, which reminded her that three
reports were due tomorrow. An enormous
worry, which she had been forgetting for a moment, came back again, and
swallowed her up.
Reports. It was at that time of the year when reports
were to be written. She had handed two
to her boss this morning, but there were still three left. And she knew that there would be some again
later. They would keep on coming. They would never stop.
Well,
she could finish them tonight, or if she couldn’t – no, she could. She could, anyway, finish them, very roughly,
perhaps. It didn’t matter. Her boss wouldn’t fire her owing to a rough,
ungrammatical report. That’s true. But, she was not willing. Whenever she got started on her work, she
wished to do something better, at least write something clear and effective, as
she was taught in school. But every time
she would find at last that her product was rubbish – rubbish again. By experience she could predict her
dissatisfaction and disappointment at the end, even before she started.
She
didn’t love her job, really. She didn’t
understand why she had been working in it for five years. But the question was, she couldn’t see why
she should give it up. Maybe she could
find another job. But what’s the
difference? She would also feel tired.
She had
thought of not working. But it’s
impossible. She needed money, like
everyone else. You can’t survive if you
have no money. That’s true. But the main problem was, if she didn’t work,
what else should she do then?
She
glanced up at the sky, and saw a star, as bright as a diamond in laid on a black
velvet. She used to love this star very
much, when she was still a student.
Whenever she felt tired and worried on her way home from school, she
would look at the star, which, she felt, was a guiding star, always shining
with encouraging brightness.
But
now, she felt the star disgusting. It
was too high above. It was mocking at
her, with apathy, she believed.
She
glanced down at the flashing and dazzling neon lights of the street. Long lines of vehicles were queuing beneath the
bridge, groaning impatiently.
Hong
Kong was really a busy city. And it was
also a maze.
She stopped,
gazing at the street with dizzy eyes.
Who am
I?
What am
I doing?
And
why?
She
felt a creature stuck on the back of her brain, sucking her blood …
A gust of wind
clapped on her face. She trembled,
realizing that she was not in a dream.
She continued
to walk, and saw a woman walking past, carrying a little child. She smiled at the child with envy. How happy he was! Nothing to worry, nothing to care about!
But, he
would grow up – certainly, and one day he would have to walk past this
footbridge like her.
She
suddenly felt pity for the child.
She
liked children, very, very much. They
were the most and only innocent beings.
From their smiles, she could see the natural, purest job of life.
She had
once thought of teaching in a kindergarten.
But after she heard some friends complaining about the toil of teaching
naughty children, she gave up the idea.
She didn’t want to ruin her ever-existing beautiful picture of children –
her only hope and faith in life.
“Where
would you like to have dinner, darling?”
A young
couple were walking hand in hand towards her, and passed her.
“Anywhere is
fine, dear.”
That could be a
retreat, really. Look for a boyfriend,
and then get married, and have a small, warm family …
No. She had thought of this, but she knew that’s
not the way.
You can never
live with the one you really love.
Real, fulfilled love
could only be found in fairy tales, in which the prince and princess were
always living together happily.
But she was no
longer a child.
Her heart was
suddenly bitten by a special feeling, which faded away quickly.
It didn’t
matter. After all, she could earn a living
for herself. She didn’t need a person to
depend upon. Having a companion is fine,
but you will never feel happy living with a person you don’t really love. She didn’t want to find trouble to herself,
really.
She reached the
end of the footbridge, and walked down the stairs.
“Don’t step on two
stairs at one time,” she told herself.
The light
besides the staircase was always out of order.
So she always walked down the stairs with fear, worrying that she would
fall. Well, in fact she didn’t know why
she had to worry. She had walked up and
down this staircase for more than four thousand times; and she had never fallen
down. And, even if she fell over, and
rolled down the stairs, what’s the matter?
She might be hurt seriously by the fall.
She might break one or two legs, or arms, or even lose her life.
But indeed, what’s
the importance? She might disappear suddenly one day for no reason or a reason
nobody knew, but nothing would change.
The earth would still move around the sun. And the night would still come, a bit earlier
in winter and later in spring, perhaps.
Even that disgusting star would still be shining with jeer.
Perhaps the only
difference was that she would no longer feel tired. But, who knows?
She stepped
down, the heels of her shoes making a louder complaint. The creature on her brain had sucked full,
and left her brain empty. Her eyelids
were falling down, so she blinked heavily to keep herself awake. She hated blinking because every time she had
closed her eyes, she had to open them again.
She continued to
step down, looking far away at the neon-lights.
The attractive enchanting colour might force her eyes to open. It might …
Suddenly she
looked back down onto the stairs, seeing that one of her feet was placed between
two steps. She forgot which step it
should be, but before she could decide, her body had already leant forwards.
With unconscious
reaction she grasped the handrail, but her body was still at the point of
falling.
That’s the
retreat! She could loosen her hand, and,
everything would finish. That’s
great! That’s a relief! No tiredness. No work.!
No reports.
But – she injected
an additional effort to her hand, which caught the handrail tightly, and
stabilized her body – that’s not worthy.
It was after all
a great decision. She knew she shouldn’t
make such a great decision at that moment, at which her physical and mental
condition were not normal, not representative enough.
She stood on the
staircase and took a deep breath. She
could have a rest when she arrived home, and then have dinner, and then write
her reports, and then go to bed, and have a comfortable sleep. Tomorrow would be another day, another new
day. Everything would be new, when the
sun visited everybody on the earth.
She
smiled, and rushed down the rest of the staircase in one breath.
When
she left the last step and reached the ground, an immense heaviness invaded her
legs.
She
move to the zebra crossing, and looked up back at the footbridge, regretting
the crazy rushing.
Tomorrow
would be a new day. But, at that time tomorrow,
she would have to be walking along that footbridge again.
With a
sigh, she crossed the road, and let herself dissolve in the crowd.
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