Four Memorable Moments in Spring 2020

By Wang Gongshang

There had never been a spring that was as hard to get through as the spring in 2020.It was an unforgettable season when Liu Xinglong and his whole family were confined to their home.In the one hundred days from January 23 to May 2,he wasn’t a writer,but one of the millions of ordinary Wuhan residents who had no retreat from the epidemic,who had to turn and fight it.

Just Another Day for Swimming

On the morning of January 23,2020,Liu decided to swim in a nearby hotel pool,as usual.

From the autumn of 2006,the

date of his first swim,he had never

missed a day of his one-kilometer morning exercise routine.

At about 2 am on January 23,most residents in Wuhan were already informed of traffic restrictions,but Liu paid it no mind.Early that morning,he drove again to the swimming pool near his house.

There were only two swimmers in the pool—him and another man,a business owner who lived nearby.As he was leaving,Liu asked the receptionist if the pool would be open the next morning,to which he received a cordial affirmative response:“We haven’t received any notice yet.So,I don’t see any reason why it won’t be.”

But,on the way home,he received a call from the receptionist.The hotel was to close from 10 am that day.

Back home,Liu had breakfast with his wife and children.Everyone was talking and laughing,no one seemed to take the unfolding situation seriously.But as their phones lit up with more and more news,the oppressiveness of the situation began to set in and everyone soon fell silent.

“Should I stock up on commodities,too?” He wondered as he began to feel uneasy.On the way home from the swimming pool,he’d seen long lines in front of all the shops.People were in a buying frenzy,making runs on all the stores.“What should I get?” He surveyed the storage room:rice,meat,and non-staple foods for the Spring Festival,there was enough of everything.

“Maybe some water?” He went to a dozen shops,but no one had water in large bottles left,so he bought a few small ones.He also wanted to get some ethyl alcohol and disinfectant but there was already a long line in front of the pharmacy near his place even before it opened,so he went to another one close by.There were no lines,but the shelves were bare.

During the epidemic and the traffic control in Wuhan,millions of residents stayed at home to support the fight against COVID-19,and the once hustling and bustling streets became quiet and empty.疫情期間，武漢實(shí)施交通管制，千萬普通民眾堅(jiān)守在家，曾經(jīng)繁華的街道變得冷冷清清。

從沒有一個春天，像2020年跨越得那般艱難。在那個注定將終生難忘的春天，劉醒龍和一家三代人一起，從1月23日到5月2日，居家抗疫長達(dá)100 天。那段時間里，他不是一名作家，而是一位在抗疫戰(zhàn)場上沒有任何退路、只有挺身而出的千萬普通武漢人中的一員。

照常游泳的早晨

2020年1月23日早晨，劉醒龍還是決定照常去附近的酒店游泳。

從2006年秋天第一次下水游泳之后，他就不曾中斷這每天1000米的水中晨練。

1月23日凌晨2時許，許多武漢市民就已經(jīng)獲知了交通管制消息，劉醒龍沒有恐慌，他一大早還是駕車直奔離家不遠(yuǎn)的泳池。

泳池里就劉醒龍和一個住在附近的企業(yè)老板。劉醒龍離開泳池前問服務(wù)員，明天早上還照常開放嗎？服務(wù)員說，還沒有接到通知，應(yīng)該會繼續(xù)開放吧。

劉醒龍駕車還沒到家，就接到了服務(wù)員的電話，說酒店上午10時就準(zhǔn)備關(guān)門了。

回到家里，劉醒龍?jiān)绮蜁r還和妻子、孩子們有說有笑。大家似乎都沒把這當(dāng)回事兒。但是漸漸地，手機(jī)上傳來的信息越來越多，一家人都開始沉重起來，也開始不愛說話。

也應(yīng)該買點(diǎn)什么吧？劉醒龍心里也開始不踏實(shí)。從泳池回家的路上，他看到所有的商店門口都排了長長的隊(duì)伍，都在搶購。買什么呢？他打開家里的儲物間，為了過春節(jié)，大米、肉、副食都儲備得很充足。那就買點(diǎn)水吧？結(jié)果跑了十幾家店，都沒有大瓶裝的礦泉水了，于是買了幾小瓶礦泉水。然后想買點(diǎn)兒酒精、消毒液，結(jié)果門口的藥房還沒開門，門口已經(jīng)排了長隊(duì)。隔壁還有一家開門的藥房，門口沒人排隊(duì)，但劉醒龍走進(jìn)去一看，貨架上空空如也。

Taking out the Garbage at Midnight

“During the epidemic,the moods in the Three Gorges and the Dabie Mountains,and on the shore of the East Lake in Wuchang were completely different,” Liu said.

On January 28,2020,Liu was interviewed by a reporter from the media.They met at the East Lake.The gate to the scenic areas was locked down,so they went to the East Lake Greenway instead.It was locked down as well,giving them no choice but to walk to a plank walkway by the lake.The reporter and himself,who were both vastly overdressed for the circumstances,stood by the roadside chatting for more than an hour.

Standing in the vast expanse of open space,the lake in front of them was translucent and shallow,the sunlight darted through the foliage,shooting sharp shafts of glittering gold through the blue,while withered lotuses swayed back and forth as their wrinkled faces grimaced,catching the brunt of the icy blasts that sent chills up Liu’s spine.He could not escape the uneasy feeling that plagued him.

On March 26,after more than two months of fighting and persistence,the community where Liu resided was declared a nonepidemic area.Since then,at 3 pm every afternoon,residents were allowed to go out for a walk,albeit with a specified group and time.Someone in Liu’s family suggested going out for some fresh air,and the children whooped and hollered,unable to hold back their brimming zeal.

The children raced out the door and dashed into the yard.They ran back and forth several times,walked around the neighborhood for a bit,and before long started crying that they wanted to go home.“You feel like there are people lurking behind every window watching your every move.What a terrible feeling,”Liu remarked.Behind the feeling was this intangible stress that was hard to put your finger on—it seemed that everyone you met could give you the virus.Even if the person claimed to be healthy,you were still scared.What if he wasn’t really healthy after all?

“During the quarantine days,I always took the garbage out at midnight.” Liu would rather go out in the middle of the night than risk running into someone.When he was out,he would look through the dark and count the lights in his building.“When I see the lights in the window,I know there are still people living here safely.”

Deleted Messages of Kind Acts

At 6:24 pm on February 9,2020,a young writer named Song Xiaoci posted a message on her WeChat Moments.She needed help urgently.All five members of a family she knew,including the grandparents,parents,and a five-and-a-half-year-old,were sick,though the child was asymptomatic.Unfortunately,none of their relatives or friends could help.The child’s father was in a bad way but still didn’t get hospitalized yet.

Thirteen minutes later,Liu commented on the post:Please send me the information.I’ll see if I can find someone for you.

Soon enough,Song and her friends in the community had gathered as much information about the family as they could and sent it to Liu.

What Song and her friends didn’t know at that time was that Liu was suffering a serious bout of diarrhea.It was food poisoning.After days of self-quarantine,all the edible vegetables and fruits were eaten and there was only some meat and grain left.Every leaf became a treasure for the family.That morning,they found some spoiled lettuce leaves and couldn’t bear tossing them out,so they cut off the rotten parts and cooked the rest for lunch.In the early afternoon,Liu began to feel sick.His stomach churned and his temperature climbed.He was miserable.

Liu Xinglong,Chinese novelist,vice president of Hubei Writers Association,and vice president of the Wuhan Literature and Art Association

午夜倒垃圾的男人

疫情期間，你在三峽，在大別山，和你身處武昌東湖之濱，感覺是完全不同的。劉醒龍說。

2020年1月28日，劉醒龍接受一家中央媒體采訪，約在武昌東湖。在東湖轉(zhuǎn)了一圈之后，發(fā)現(xiàn)無法進(jìn)門，于是他們保持著距離去東湖綠道，結(jié)果綠道也不能進(jìn)，只能到湖邊棧道接受采訪。“全副武裝”的劉醒龍和同樣裝扮的記者站在路邊聊了一個多小時，雖然是室外空曠處，湖水清淺，陽光很好，水里是迎著冷風(fēng)搖曳的殘荷，但他的感覺卻是如此不同尋常。

3月26日，經(jīng)過兩個多月的奮戰(zhàn)和堅(jiān)持，劉醒龍所在的小區(qū)終于被認(rèn)定為無疫情小區(qū)。每天下午3時，小區(qū)居民們就可以分期分批出去散步。家人說都出去轉(zhuǎn)轉(zhuǎn)吧，孩子們歡呼雀躍。

打開門，孩子們來到院子里，來回奔跑了幾下，竟然都不想動了，又在小區(qū)轉(zhuǎn)了幾分鐘，就都鬧著回家了。“那種感覺是，你似乎覺得每一扇窗背后都有人，別人都注視著你……那種感覺太難受了?！眲⑿妖堈f，這樣的感覺伴著一種無形的壓力，似乎遇到的人都有可能帶來病毒和危險。哪怕你身邊是一個自稱健康的人，但是你會擔(dān)驚受怕，萬一呢？

“那時候，我都是半夜12 時出來倒垃圾。”劉醒龍為了出門倒垃圾的時候盡量少遇到人，寧愿在午夜行動。來到室外之后，他會在夜色里仰望自己的樓棟，數(shù)數(shù)亮著的燈，“只要窗戶有燈光，就說明這家還有人安全地住在這里”。

被刪除的善舉信息

2020年2月9日下午6 時24 分，青年作家宋小詞在朋友圈發(fā)出求救信息稱，她認(rèn)識的一家五口，除了5 歲半的孩子沒有癥狀之外，孩子的爺爺奶奶爸爸媽媽全部染病。沒有親戚朋友能伸出援手，孩子的爸爸病得很重，還在奔波醫(yī)院跑手續(xù)。

13 分鐘后，劉醒龍留言：請將相關(guān)情況發(fā)給我！我來找人試試！

宋小詞隨后和社區(qū)的朋友整理了這一家五口的情況，并發(fā)給劉醒龍。

Fighting his fears,Liu sat on the toilet and looked through his contacts to see who could help the family.Over the next few hours,he made phone calls to every friend who might have contact with the hospital.By bedtime,he’d taken four doses of diarrhea medicine.

Finally,a friend reached out and took the family to the hospital.The child's grandfather passed away unfortunately in the waiting room.Everyone else was recovered at last.

Afterward,Song posted the whole story on her WeChat Moments and neighborhood chat groups to express her gratitude,but was soon asked to delete everything.Liu told her,“Please don’t talk about it in the group.Please delete the stuff about me.”

“I did this because that’s what my heart told me to do.I didn’t do it to show off.”

Song deleted the messages at Liu’s request,but his acts of kindness and volunteerism are engraved in the hearts of the citizens who received the help.

A Flashback Triggered by the Epidemic

At the height of the coronavirus outbreak,Liu was called by his sense of duty to pick up a pen and start writing.A large city with a population of over ten million was facing an unprecedented epidemic,he said.There may be some areas or individuals that didn’t do so well but,overall,the anti-epidemic measures were a success—a credit to all.

After his eye surgery,Liu had stopped writing for quite a while,but since January 23,2020,he decided to record his stories of the pandemic in his own way.At first,he planned to “write something around 50,000 or 60,000 words.” But the project ultimately ballooned to over 200,000 words,every bit of which is a true record of his personal experience and insights during the epidemic.

Liu Xinglong named his protracted essayIf the Future Is Long.

On May 2,2020,Liu left Wuhan and went to his hometown in Huanggang.He stood in front of his father’s grave on Xiaoqinling Hill and told him that all his children and grandchildren had survived the epidemic.Then he went to the Tianmazhai scenic area in Yingshan to go mountain climbing and see the azaleas.Standing atop the peaks peering down upon the misty scene below set off an epiphany of sorts,that it was exactly one hundred days from January 23 to May 2—a profound coincidence.

Liu recalled that during those one hundred days,he’d often dreamed about his father,who had passed away years before.And,in his dreams,it was always the same scene where he was working in Hubei Yingshan Valve Factory.

What had triggered those memories? He reckoned it was the epidemic that aroused something in his heart,and in his memory.

(Translation:Liu Lili)

Wuhan citizens back to the swimming pool after the quarantine days are over隔離解除后，武漢市民重回泳池

宋小詞和她的伙伴們當(dāng)時不知道的是，這一天劉醒龍正在因?yàn)槔亲佣鴤涫苷勰ァ．?dāng)天中午，因?yàn)榧依镏皇Ｏ氯忸惡图Z食，青菜和瓜果都沒有了，就特別珍惜每一片菜葉。家人舍不得丟掉開始腐爛的萵苣葉子，把腐爛部分掐掉，剩下的部分炒熟吃了。結(jié)果從下午開始，劉醒龍的肚子里就開始翻騰，體溫升高，非常難受。

劉醒龍一邊壓制內(nèi)心的恐懼，一邊坐在馬桶上翻電話通訊錄，看看誰能幫那一家五口。從中午到晚上睡覺，他一共吃了四次中藥。同時盡力在通訊錄里尋找可能和醫(yī)院有聯(lián)系的朋友，給他們發(fā)短信，打電話。

終于有一位朋友伸出援手，將這一家人帶到醫(yī)院檢查治療。除了孩子爺爺在等待過程中去世以外，包括孩子在內(nèi)的其他四人最終幸運(yùn)脫險。

宋小詞把情況發(fā)在小區(qū)的群里和自己的朋友圈里，結(jié)果劉醒龍要求：“不要在群里說，將說我的話刪了?！薄白鍪裁词莾?nèi)心需要，不是給人看?！弊罱K這些信息都被刪除了，但劉醒龍和志愿者們的善舉，被獲得救治的市民刻在了心中。

疫情觸發(fā)的記憶

身處疫情中心，使命感召喚劉醒龍拿起筆來記錄。他說，一千多萬人口的大城市面臨空前的疫情，盡管有少數(shù)領(lǐng)域和個別人的表現(xiàn)不盡如人意，但整體抗疫工作真的做得不錯。

此前因?yàn)檠劬Σ缓脛傋鐾晔中g(shù)，劉醒龍一直沒有動筆寫作。2020年1月23日之后，他決定用自己的方式來記錄，他開始擬“寫一個五六萬字的東西”，結(jié)果寫著寫著就寫了20 萬字，這是他對個人在疫情期間親身經(jīng)歷和感悟的真實(shí)記錄。

劉醒龍將這部長篇散文定名為《如果來日方長》。

2020年5月2日，劉醒龍離開武漢，一路直奔黃岡老家，到小秦嶺父親的墓前，向九泉之下的老父親報告，兒孫們都平安度過了疫情。然后，他們?nèi)ビ⑸降奶祚R寨爬山，又去看杜鵑花。在山上，劉醒龍一算，說巧了，從1月23日到5月2日，剛好100 天。

劉醒龍說，他那段時間經(jīng)常做夢，夢見去世多年的父親，而且是自己在湖北英山閥門廠工作時候的場景。

這些記憶為何會被觸發(fā)？他說，應(yīng)該是疫情觸動了內(nèi)心和記憶。