That day, the master took me into the cremation room. It was pitch black and had four furnace holes, just like a brick-burning furnace.
The master made me wear a mask and a hood, leaving only my eyes exposed.
My calves were cramping.
In 1967, cremation was just beginning. Not many people were cremated, and most bodies were buried secretly. But there were three or five people doing so every day, after all, there was only one crematorium in the city.
The master looked back at me and said.
"Today you just watch."
I stood against the wall, and I doubted whether I could stand without leaning against the wall.
The master was busy slowly, lighting four stoves with coal. An hour later, the fire was burning. I watched. The master lit a cigarette and started smoking it. He sat down and finished it. He glanced at me and went out. A moment later, a body cart was pushed in. On it was a corpse covered with a white sheet. My back was covered in cold sweat.
The master said.
"See how I do it, and you should do the same in the future."
The master lifted the white sheet and revealed an old man, very thin. The master looked at him for a while, then picked him up, put him on the shelf, and slowly pushed him in.
The master looked at the furnace door, glanced at me, opened the small door, and sat there watching.
"come over."
The master's voice was not loud, even gentle, but I was so scared that I felt cold sweat running down my back, and I was trembling even when I walked.
"Don't be nervous. When a person dies, he is just a handful of ashes. The past is just a handful of dirt."
I walked to the little door.
"look."
The master asked me to look, and when I looked inside, I saw that my clothes were all on fire, and my heart almost stopped beating.
The master picked up a long hook, reached in, and very accurately and steadily hooked the dead man's stomach. He pulled it open, and something flowed out. I ran out immediately and squatted outside to vomit.
(No disrespect to the dead here; that was the situation in 1967.)
The master came out, looked at me and said.
"You can go home now."
I think I should go home.
When I got home, my father had prepared food for me. I saw that I vomited again, then went into my room and went to sleep.
That night, I had nightmares and screamed constantly. Every time, my father came over and hugged me, tears streaming down his face.
The next day, I went to work and felt sick after not having eaten breakfast.
When I entered the office, my master was eating breakfast and asked me to eat, but I felt like vomiting again.
"eat."
The chef got angry and threw the rice bowl in front of me.
"Master, I..."
"eat."
I ate it and then threw up.
"You can go home now."
The master was angry, but I didn't leave. I felt very disappointed. I entered the crematorium and the master looked at me and said.
"It's a normal reaction. It's okay. It will be fine in a few days. You can go home today!"
The master is very gentle.
"Master..."
"Master doesn't blame you, go back!"
I went back. I really couldn't bear it anymore. I went home and sat there crying. I knew I really couldn't do it here.
When my father came back in the evening and saw my expression, he was confused.
He felt very sad, but didn't say anything. He cooked for me. I ate some reluctantly, but I kept feeling like vomiting. I endured it, because I would starve to death if this continued.
When I woke up in the morning, it was cloudy and I was in a bad mood. On the way to the crematorium, I walked very slowly. The master came up from behind on a bicycle. In 1967, having a bicycle was as cool as having a BMW today.
"Second class."
I jumped on it, said the master.
"You're still the same as before."
To be honest, I have never sat second class.
When I entered the office, the master asked me if I had eaten.
I nodded. I have never felt that food tasted so bad.
After changing clothes, I followed the master into the cremation room. There were four furnaces, but only two were cremated today. It seemed that not many people were here today.
I was still leaning against the wall.
"Don't lean against that wall."
The master looked at me and threw me a cigarette.
"Master, I can't."
The master didn't say anything, he just lit it himself.
"Light the stove."
Although it seemed like a simple job, I was actually in a panic. It was then that I realized that lighting the stove was not such an easy task.
Coal was very expensive at that time, and there was a huge pile of coal in the yard of the crematorium, like a mountain. The guards were very strict, but still some people would come to steal. I think the crematorium is a place where I wouldn't dare to come.
The fire was lit, but the master still sat there.
"Go to the morgue and push number one out."
I knew about the morgue, but I had never been in one. Every muscle in my body was tense, sweaty, and cold.
I entered the morgue and saw number one, written in black letters. I went over and lifted the lid. There was a white coat covering him. There was a car next to him. I hesitated, I was scared, I was nervous, and I wanted to pee.
I stood there not daring to move. I don’t know how long it took, I really don’t know, then the master came in and said.
"What are you doing?"
I was so scared that I screamed and sat on the ground. My heart was beating faster and I felt like I was going to die.
"Okay, go home."
I am home again, and now for the first time I feel what home is like and how safe it is.
I just ran home, locked the door, looked out the window, and then got into bed.
When my father came home from get off work and knocked on the door, I was terrified and asked who it was before he opened the door. I burst into tears and leaned against the wall.
My father hugged me tightly.
"I'm not going tomorrow. I'm quitting."
I cried so hard that day. For the first time, I felt the security and broad embrace that my father gave me. Although my father was very thin, I felt that his embrace was the broadest in the world.
It snowed in the morning and I had breakfast.
"Dad, I'm going to work."
My father stared at me for a moment and didn't say anything for a long time.
I left, I knew I needed to go to work, even though my father told me not to go anymore.
I entered the office, the master said.
"This is a process. It's the same for me. It's okay. You will get used to it slowly. There is nothing in the world that you can't get used to."
I can't understand what the master said, I'm still young.
I followed the master into the crematorium and lit the furnace. It was a lot easier today. Then I went to the morgue. Number one is always the beginning. Every day there will be a new deceased person on the first day. But today I didn't even have the courage to lift the lid.
Tears actually came out of my eyes. The master came in, walked up to me, patted my shoulder and said.
"Kid, it's okay."
The master opened the lid, carried the body onto the cart, pushed it into the crematorium room, and then placed the body on a shelf and pushed it in.
The master asked me to look at the small mouth, and there was a hook again. I closed my eyes, and I could figure it out.
When I opened my eyes again, I saw that the corpse had suddenly sat up. I screamed, took a few steps back, and sat on the ground. I completely lost consciousness.
The master helped me up and whispered.
"Don't be afraid. When a person dies, their tendons will twitch when they are burned. This is normal. It's okay. It's okay."
I went home and I didn't have a fever that day.
When I woke up in the morning, I still had a fever. My father held my forehead and gave me some paracetamol, which went down a little.
"You don't have to go to work today. I'll ask for leave for you."
I really can't go, I feel like I'm going to die.
Every time I was about to fall asleep, I dreamed that the person in the fire sat up, and then I sat up too.
My father came home from get off work early to stay with me. My fever still didn't go away, so he carried me to the hospital. After I got an injection, I felt much better.
My father made me an egg cake.
This was a day that I felt both scared and happy.
My fever hadn't gone away for three days in a row, so the master came to see me with some apples. In that era, an apple was very precious.
That day my father was drinking with the master. The master asked me to sit at the table and I looked at my father.
"You are an adult, come up and have a drink."
The master said that it was difficult for the father to say anything.
That day, I wasn't drunk, but I felt dizzy and I slept well that night.
I have never mentioned my mother. My father told me that my mother died when I was two years old. I have no memory and I don't know what happened to her.
I recovered from my illness and went to work today. I followed the master in, lit the furnace, and then went into the morgue. The master followed me in and lifted the lid, but I was still scared.
"Don't be afraid, he's dead."
I gritted my teeth, and I was afraid that my teeth would be broken.
I picked him up and felt it was as heavy as a thousand pounds. The white cloth covering him fell off and I saw the dead man's face. I froze and then the body slipped off.
It was a young girl, her face was as white as paper, everything was a mess, and I was stunned.
The master was very unhappy.
"Say sorry, cover with a sheet, pick up, and put it in the car."
I could hardly move. The master just stared at me like that. I felt like I was frozen.
I still did it, sorry, I covered him with the sheet, carried him into the car, and I felt like a thousand years had passed.
I was sent to the crematorium and the master was still looking at me.
I covered my face and started crying.
"Master, I can't do it."
"Yes, she is too young, the same age as you, go home!"
I don’t know how I got home that day, it was like I floated back home.
That night, all I could see was the girl's pale face. She smiled at me, and then cried at me. I woke up several times, and my clothes were all wet.
The master didn't let me carry the corpse again, he just let me watch, and kept letting me watch. I didn't do anything except lighting the stove. I didn't feel scared during the whole day.
There were many people being cremated today, but there were only four stoves. It took more than two hours to burn one body. We didn't finish the work until it was almost dark. My legs were swollen from standing, but I didn't seem to be afraid anymore.
The master said.
"Originally there were two people here, but they ran away, so we can't recruit anyone."
Who likes to come here? I don’t know. I came here, but I don’t like it. I really don’t like it at all. The master invited me to dinner tonight.
He told me that, in fact, the most unlikely thing is that someone will die. They don’t talk, and if you make a mistake, they won’t scold you. They won’t move, and if you say something wrong, they can’t hit you, and they won’t glare at you, so you don’t need to be afraid.
After the master said this, my courage came up. In fact, there is really nothing to be afraid of.
"You treat them as your father, mother, brothers and sisters."
Why do I feel so awkward when hearing this? The master looked at me and laughed.
"It was quite awkward. To be honest, when I first came here, I was the first one here. I had no experience and no master. I didn't come when this crematorium was established. I learned everything by myself. When I cremated a person for the first time, there were three people, and two ran away. I couldn't run away anymore, so I held on. The director came to accompany me. After that day, I cried like a ghost."
I was stunned. What kind of courage was that
The masters in the factory call him the second factory manager. Actually, he is not the factory manager, but his words really count.
That day, my master was drunk, and I carried him home on my back. When I entered the house, I was stunned. My master's teacher was very beautiful. I had never seen so many beautiful people, at least in the past twenty years. He also had a daughter, who was also very beautiful.
I put my master down and left. My master's wife asked me to stay and drink some water, but I didn't. I felt panicked, just like the first time I entered a crematorium.
In fact, my master is only six years older than me.
I went home and my father was angry.
"You're back so late?"
"There were a lot of people here today, so we didn't finish until dark. My master asked me to buy him a drink, so that's why it's late."
"oh."
My father thought I ran out to play.
That day, my father asked me if I had adapted. Actually, it was not a question of whether I had adapted or not. I might never adapt here. That day was the day when I talked to my father the most!
There were only three dead people today. After lighting the furnace, I went to the morgue. There was always a cold air. The master said it was yin energy. When people die, they will have yin energy. When they are alive, they will have yang energy. It is normal.
Yesterday I was filled with ambition, but now my legs are cramping as I stand here. I gritted my teeth, picked up the body and put it in the car. I will never forget the first time I hugged that beautiful young girl.
I pushed it back, and the master looked at me and didn't move, which meant that I should do it myself.
I carried the body onto the rack, took off the white cloth, pushed it in, closed the door, opened the small door, and watched with a long hook.
He acted like a veteran, but in fact, I was already quite scared.
The master suddenly jumped up, pushed me aside, snatched the hook from me, and hurriedly put it in. I knew what he was going to do. I watched the corpse slowly grow bigger, and I was still standing there in a daze.
The master finished his work and said in a low voice.
"You'd have exploded any later."
I know the master is talking about the stomach.
"sorry."
"fine."
Obviously the master figured it out on his own, and he must have gone through this. He is the first generation of refiners in China. (To be continued)