To pick up all the things, father has to get up. Look at the time on the phone. He dressed in that I have been watching the camouflage, came and said: “you do not eat?” I can’t say. One does not feel hungry, two eat something, will feel uncomfortable in the car. It was raining hard. I said, “Take me away!” From home to the bus, there are about ten miles away. At this time I can’t see a thing, the sky and the heavy rain, I am a person can’t catch up with the car in any case. He said, “well,” he said.” Then turn around and get the motorbike. I watched him from the dim light passed by, some body fat is not naturally bent again. His technique is not very good, and now the weather, the rugged road will be more difficult to do. My father took the rain motorcycle, wearing a raincoat and clumsy.
My umbrella is standing at two meters, with his flashlight. Raincoat with water, become cold and hard, he put several times without hands into sleeves. Squat body is struggling in the cold wind. At last he had not put on a raincoat, he was out of breath. Raincoats to manage, father raincoat in the upper half of the catch in hand, lower part is on a motorcycle, then slowly bend down, inch by inch drilling raincoat. My heart felt pain suddenly. The cold rain was down the skeleton of the umbrella, dripping on the hot hand. I went up and said, “Dad, I’m going to help you!” He shook his hand and a voice came from the raincoat: “I’m fine, you don’t come, watch the rain!” When he was wearing a raincoat, the clothes on his body were wet. I use the flashlight he clumsily climbed the motorcycle, the body was difficult to curb trembling. Once the father, tall, strong, in memory is always the existence of the giant. But now, I look at he only and my shoulder high body, looked at him in the cold rain flashing white light of a root hair, looked at him is no longer sensitive action, heart suddenly blocked, dull, uncomfortable. What makes my father had become so old? Time, or me? I stole my eyes and sat on my father’s motorcycle. At the station, I stood on the platform and my father was standing on the platform. He parked his motorcycle in the side, and took out a cigarette. In the darkness, a shining spot on the floating , then came the father heavy breathing. I am guilt. Say: “you go back, I’m a person and so on.” He said: “it’s all right!” Continue to sit next to smoking, sitting in the rain soaked car. After a while, he finished his cigarette. Come, handed me a pile of money, he said: “to put it in a bag, don’t lose.”
I said: “well.” Took the money, the folder in the book, and carefully put the book in the backpack. He said: “eat what you want to eat at school, not to save.” I nodded, but did not dare to see him, did not say a word. I stood on the platform, and my father stood on the platform. Silent, he didn’t say a word. The air flowing in the biting cold, and dead silence. And after another hour, the rain was small. The bright light shines, I know, it’s time to go. I said: “you go back, I got on the train.” The father smiled, said: “no matter, you get on the bus I walk.” I am speechless, watching my father tired eyes, suddenly choked down. Turn around, a few steps on the bus. Out of the window, the cold rain is falling down. Rain, my father looked at me in silence. I turned to look, he has been the boundless cold rain obscured, so invisible. I carried a heavy bag, tears can not be help but also can help, suddenly spread. Like that between heaven and earth under a cold rain, get out of hand. I understand that the father’s silence, but also deep in the sea. And I understand that my father’s love is in the deep silence of the sea, and with my birth, I have been with me for twenty years. I shed tears, tightly holding a heavy backpack.