The aftermath of the monthly exam is like ripples scattered on the water, swaying in circles, and then slowly returning to calm. Doris didn't go to Dyson for anym. She is not even sure whether she really wants an answer. The answer "I have never been to your examination room" was like a swallowed ice cube, slowly melting in her stomach, leaving a continuous touch that could not be told whether it was cold or burning. She began to observe him intentionally or unintentionally - passing by in the corridor, she would quickly glance at his expression, trying to find some clues, some kind of "I remember but I choose to deny" flaw. But Dyson will always be the same Dyson, talking and laughing on the podium, walking calmly on campus, with clear and frank eyes, as if there has never been an autumn morning in his world, and there has never been a desk kicked.
Doris finally put the matter in the "unsolved" drawer and put all the little secrets about him that could not be told to others. The lock of the drawer is a little rusty, but it is quite tight.
The days continue to flow forward. In mid-October, the ginkgo on campus began to turn yellow in a large area, and the small fan-shaped leaves fell all over the ground, were swept into piles by the students on duty, and were scattered in the wind. There are red and green publicity posters on the bulletin board in front of the teaching building, on which "Autumn Track and Field Games" and "Youth is fearless, chasing dreams" are written in exaggerated art words. The monitor knocked on the lecture table on the podium and hoarsely encouraged everyone to sign up: "There is still a shortage of people! High jump, long jump, 1,500 meters! Everyone, be positive. This is the honor of the class!" There were a few voices in the classroom, and most of them buried their heads behind the exercise book, pretending not to hear it.
Doris didn't plan to be in the lime. But Ellie poked her with her elbow and said in a tone of discovering the New World, "Didn't you practice high jump in junior high school? You told me that you jumped more than 1.3 meters!" It was too late for Doris to cover her mouth. The monitor's eyes swept over like a searchlight and nailed to her. Doris! High jump! That's it!" Then Ellie took another job for her - "She can run 1,500 even if she has endurance!" Doris kicked Ellie under the table, but the monitor had already written her name on the registration form, and the strokes were so thick that they could be soaked in ink. Raw rice is cooked into cooked rice.
So, on October 17th, a cloudy Friday, Doris stood next to the red plastic track on the playground wearing borrowed sports shorts and a wide school games T-shirt. The sunshine of autumn is no longer as fierce as that of summer. It becomes warm and long, shining warmly on the body. The wind blows from the north, carrying the dry smell of the dead leaves of the sycamore tree by the playground. The stands were full of students, and the colorful class flags were rattling in the wind. Exciting marches were played on the radio, and occasionally a few notices were inserted that "students participating in the men's 100-meter preliminary race should report to the recording office".
The high jump competition is scheduled for the morning. The venue is in the open space on the east side of the teaching building. Two slender metal poles support a trembling crossbar, and a thick green sponge pad is spread below. The edge of the cushion has been hairy, revealing the yellowed inner core inside. Doris stood behind the jump point and waited in line. There were five or six girls in front of her. Some of them were slender like natural high jumpers, and some of them had the same confusion as "why am I here" on their faces. She was doing stretching movements, but her eyes unconsciously crossed the crowded heads and searched around the venue.
She found him. Dyson stood on the side of the sponge mat, with a whistle hanging around his neck, holding a record board and a pen in his hand. Obviously, he was the score officer of the high jump team. Today, he wore a dark blue sports jacket with a zipper pulled up to his chest, revealing the white T-shirt inside. He looked several years younger than on the podium, and even a little fresh like a college student. He was writing something on the recording board with his head down. Occasionally, he raised his head and shouted to the students who were trying to jump, "Pay attention to the jumping feet" or "Help run two more steps further". The sun shone on his side face, and his sharp outline was outlined with a soft golden edge.
When it was her turn, the crossbar had risen to 1.5 meters. Doris stood at the starting point of the running line and took a deep breath. She suddenly regretted it - Ellie's big mouth shook off her "jumping more than one and three meters" in junior high school, but that was two years ago, and she didn't even remember what it felt like to jump high last time. She habitually glanced at the sponge mat. Dyson just raised his head, looked over the crossbar, and fell on her impartially. He nodded slightly, with a very light expression, as if to encourage all the players equally.
Doris exhaled, helped run, accelerated, and jumped two steps away from the crossbar. She used the back cross-crossing style, and her body bent back into an arc in the air. The moment her shoulder and back fell on the sponge pad, she felt that the crossbar trembled gently - but it did not fall off. She lay on the mat and looked up. The crossbar was still there, firmly erecting. There was a sparse applause next to her. She turned over and climbed up. Yu Guang swept to Dyson's writing on the record board, and the corners of her mouth seemed to bend.
The second round, 1.2 meters. She passed. The third round, 1.5 meters. Her posture when she fell on the mat was already a little embarrassed. Her palm rubbed the surface of the mat, which was hot, but the crossbar still did not fall off. When he was 1.3 meters tall, there were only three girls left on the court. When Doris tried to jump for the first time, her elbow rubbed off the crossbar. The second time she gritted her teeth and raised her center of gravity a little more. Her whole body almost rolled horizontally from the pole. When she landed, her back hit the sponge cushion heavily, shaking her internal organs. But she heard a short "good" next to her - it was Dyson's voice. It was not loud, but she recognized it. She lay on the mat and smiled, then quickly got up and ran back to the starting point, pretending that nothing had happened.
In the end, she won the second place in the whole school. The girl in the first place was a special student, who jumped to more than 1.4 meters tall. Doris was convinced that she lost. But when the silver medal was hanging around her neck, she still couldn't help looking at the high jump venue. Dyson is putting the recording board under his armpit, packing up and preparing for the next project. He seemed to feel her gaze. He turned his head and nodded to her very lightly and indifferently. He said something in his mouth. The distance was too far away to hear, but his mouth was like "good". Doris clutched the silver medal and felt that the corners of her mouth were about to reach the root of her ears. She quickly lowered her head and pretended to look at her shoelaces.
It's 1,500 meters in the afternoon. This project is arranged on the main track of the playground. The sun is already west, but the heat has not completely subsided. The plastic runway has been exposed to the sun all day, faintly evaporating the smell of rubber and dust. Doris stood on the starting line, and there were more than 20 people standing around her. They were tall, short, fat and thin, and all of them had expressions of death on their faces. In fact, she is not afraid of this distance. Running is one of the few things she can do. The three-year morning run in junior high school gives her a good foundation. Ellie waved at her on the side of the runway, and her fleshy palm clapped: "Doris! Come on! Run first!"
The gun sounded. Doris did not rush forward in a hurry, but stopped her steps and followed steadily behind the First Group. At the end of the first lap, she ranked fifth. In the second lap, she surpassed to the third. In the third lap, she began to follow the second girl, and the distance between the two became closer and closer. She could hear her even breathing, her lungs were open, and the muscles on her legs were still very strong. She even had the strength to quickly calculate the number of laps in her mind - and the last lap, she could overtake in the curve.
When she entered the fourth lap, she began to exert herself. Her pace accelerated and her arm swing increased. She surpassed the second-placed girl from the outsider, and then bit the first place. There were tidal shouts from the stands. Someone was shouting her name. She didn't hear it very well, and there was only the sound of the wind and her own breath in her ears. In the last curve, she was almost side by side with the first place, and the shoulders of both of them were about to bump into each other several times. She felt that her limit was approaching, her thighs began to sore and swell, and there was a familiar smell of rust in her throat, but she gritted her teeth and said to herself that this was the last lap.
She fought hard. At the last 100 meters straight, she burst out with the strength she didn't know that she still had. She grabbed half a step in front of the first place. When her chest was pressed, she almost fell out. She staggered a few steps before she stabilized. She gasped and supported her knees with both hands. Sweat fell on the runway, and a great ecstasy surged in her heart - she did it, she won the first place!
However, the ecstasy only lasted for a few seconds. A classmate next to him ran over and said to her panting, "Doris, you still have a circle..." She was stunned and straightened up to look at the finish line. The referee was waving at her to indicate that the game was not over. She almost thought she had heard it wrong. She turned her head to look at the circle card - the number on it coldly and clearly told her that she really ran one less lap. The student in charge of the circle in the front probably counted the lines and wrote down one circle less. I don't know if the hint of the "last round" she heard was sent to the wrong person or simply her own auditory hallucination.
Her legs suddenly became weak. The hard-working 100-meter sprint just now emptied all her last reserve. She wanted to run again, but her legs seemed to be filled with lead. It was hard to lift them, and the steps out were not even jogging. The people behind her passed by her one after another, and she could only watch herself fall from the first to the second, third and fourth. When she crossed the real finish line, she almost walked past. In the fourth place, she didn't even have a sign.
She sat on the grass by the runway, her mouth was bitter, and her heart was still beating like a drum in her chest. Ellie ran over and handed over the water, with a distressed and bewildered expression on her face, and said, "I'm sorry, I counted it wrong." Doris didn't even have the strength to be angry. She took the water bottle and lay on her back on the grass, looking at the sky gradually darkening above her head. The broadcast on the playground was still ringing, announcing the result of 1,500 meters. When her name was read, a "fourth place" was followed.
Then she heard footsteps. It's very stable and not urgent. She turned her head and saw Dyson coming from the runway with the record board in his hand. He stood beside her, looked down at her for a while, then squatted down and put the recording board on the grass.
"Fourth," he said in a calm voice, without any comfort or smile, just stating a fact, "it was originally the first."
Doris said "um" sullenly and didn't want to look at him.
"It's good to run in front," he said again, with something more in his tone, not like the politeness of evaluating the students. "Is the speed of the last lap true?"
Doris was stunned for a moment. She turned her head to look at him. He was tilting his head to look at her. His eyes looked deep in the evening light, and his expression seemed to be seriously waiting for an answer. She suddenly felt a little burning on her face. I don't know if it was because she had just finished running or something else.
"Really," she said in a hoarse voice, "I'm desperately."
Dyson looked at her for a few seconds, then stood up and picked up the record board. He looked down at her before leaving, and the corners of his mouth curled up. It was very short and light.
"Remember the number of laps next time."
Then he turned around and left. Doris lay on the grass, listening to his footsteps gradually moving away, she suddenly felt that the heavy coin that had been in her pocket seemed to become heavier.