Between Ice and Fire

This summer is as hot as fire. At this moment, I am standing on the beach. The wind mixed with current heat blew at my face. My long hair covers my eyes. I bend down, take off my shoes, and gather my hair together with my hands. Running in short fast steps, leaving a string of deep footprints on the sand. Until my feet step into the water, those footprints disappear at the place where the water and the beach connect. The waves smooth out the footprints touched by them.

The seawater wets my face, hair, and body, and also drives away the stuffiness. I feel cool, even a bit cold. My body curls up. Soon I have swum to a place more than one meter deep. I stand up and poke my head out of the water to breathe. The seawater just covers my shoulders. Under my feet is soft and delicate sea sand, finer than the sand on the beach. The blue of the seawater and the blue of the sky are very close. Today there are few clouds, floating quietly in the sky as blue as the seawater. A few seagulls fly past with joyful cries. Then they stop on the phoenix flower trees by the seaside.

The phoenix flowers are blooming vividly, some deep red, some flame red.

Oh, flame red... A sudden pang of pain strikes my heart. I plunge into the water headfirst. The coolness of the seawater embraces me again.

I hold my breath. A ball of fire burns up in my mind. I am embraced by the icy seawater, but it feels like being scorched by fire. The sound of waves in my ears also becomes the sound of fire burning. I open my eyes sharply and surface. Gasping for breath. The air seems to be filled with the smell of smoke. But I know, there is no smell of smoke here. That kind of burnt and choking smell of smoke, and that big fire, they are all in my mind.

I cannot forget it because it once truly happened in reality.

The phoenix flowers by the seaside enter my eyes again, and that fire-like red also gradually burns up. I submerge myself into the seawater again. The sound of waves sounds like the sound of fire burning again, loudly resounding in my ears.

For a period of time, I thought it was difficult for me to walk out of that winter. The December of that year, that scorching winter, that group of classmates wearing colorful dance costumes, their faces wore heavy makeup, long fake eyelashes, mouths painted with thick lipstick, pink blush...

When the incident happened, what I heard first was the sound of things falling to the ground. Accompanied in the ears were also the sounds of tables and chairs being pushed, panicked screams, alarm sounds, and even music sounds also rang for a while. Later perhaps because the circuits were burned out, the music sound stopped. But the alarm sounds and screams, and also the whirring sound when the fire was burning, accompanied by occasional wood cracking sounds, kept ringing.

Panic and fear submerged me and the classmates around me. Here was the school performance hall. At that moment, some students were still wearing beautiful dance costumes. When the fire occurred, they were performing, in order to welcome honored officials to inspect the school. Those officials at this moment were in a chaotic mess just like us. Everyone crowded and ran toward the door. I was shoved by a man, staggered and bumped into two other people next to me. Because of these two people and the other people closely next to these two people, I did not fall to the ground. Soon I felt the air had already started to choke the nose.

Short fast running in the environment

At this moment a voice rang out, a familiar voice said loudly: "Let the leaders go first." She was my homeroom teacher, the vice principal of the school. Her voice was somewhat sharp, always with an unquestionable power, often issuing various orders in an unquestionable tone, which the classmates were all very familiar with. She stood at the door at this moment, giving way at the only door, gesturing to let a group of leaders who came to inspect the school go first.

We were used to obeying her. Hearing her voice, the students all stopped. Those district leaders and school leaders, who were just as panicked and helpless as us, scrambled, pushing and shoving each other to squeeze toward the exit.

A classmate cried because she was pushed down to the ground. I saw some people step over her. I wanted to go help her up, but I was pushed further away from her by the crowd. I did not see her get up, and I did not see her come out of that door. She was my friend, her name was Zhuoma. She always listened to the teacher very much, just like me.

I was dragged out by my mother. My mother was a teaching assistant at the school. When the big fire happened, she rushed in, moving against the crowd to find me who was staring blankly like a wooden chicken. She looked very fierce when she saw me, asking me why I did not run. Coughing, I said: "The teacher said let the leaders go first." I do not know if she heard it, because she immediately grabbed the collar of my sweater and yanked me up. I was dragged half in the air and brought toward the door. Mother's strength was very big. I could no longer hear Zhuoma's crying. I thought in my heart that she should have already stood up, and she would also escape.

That December was very cold. When I came out from the auditorium, the ice on the ground was still frozen very thick. My padded coat jacket had already been lost in the squeeze. From the scorching heat of the big fire, I entered into the cold air.

At that moment, I did not yet know that my memory would be trapped between fire and ice. That day was like a box, packing fire and ice together, and my memory was also trapped inside.

After I ran to the playground, I looked for Zhuoma in the crowd. I did not see her. I never saw her again. Now I know, I will never see her again. That Zhuoma who was very obedient just like me.

After that day, I never went to school again. I only heard that my mother was criticized by name, because when the big fire burned up, she went against the crowd into the burning auditorium to find me. Because my mother said one should not say "let the leaders go first" to the students. My mother was dismissed from her post.

After my mother was dismissed from her post, she brought me to this tropical island. She said to me: "Do not obey anyone's words, listen to the voice of your inner heart." Mom said she would never regret going against the crowd to find me in the auditorium, and she told me not to have a burden in my heart. Because many of my classmates, including Zhuoma, they never walked out of the auditorium again. When the mothers of those classmates cried at the school gate, mom cried together with them.

I feel that there is no burden in my heart, but my memory is trapped.

At this moment on this hot island, in the cool seawater, I am trapped in that box of memory. The sound of waves in the ears is like the sound of fire burning up.

I stand up again and open my eyes. The azure sky and the seawater connect together. The seagulls are crying. Unknowingly, there seem to be a few more white clouds. I turn my body around and see that, unknowingly, I am already very far away from the beach.

I decide to return to the beach, underneath that flame-red phoenix tree. Mom is waiting for me there. When I reach the beach, I see those footprints of mine that have not yet been smoothed out by the waves. Mom is at the other end of the footprints. Looking from afar, a thick layer of red flowers has fallen behind mom. That means this summer is about to end.

And I know, that story between ice and fire has also ended in my life. I just left a place in my heart for that obedient Zhuoma, and at the same time I also know, one day in the future I will also let her leave. I cannot forever carry her walking on my path.