一、他的聲音很有磁性
1974年那時，农场各連隊的電話都要經過上海市屬五七幹校的總機轉的。接線员小S，總會打電話過來，有話沒話的聊天。我不善言辭，都是他問我答。比如：「吃了嗎？」「還沒呢。」「你在做什麼？」「算帳呢。」
他那頭一忙就會讓我等著，還囑咐一句「別掛了啊。」我有事走開一會兒，他都不讓我掛掉電話。都說我電話裡的聲音比較老氣，不像年輕人，我也納悶兒，他為啥老跟我這兒聊。他的聲音倒是很有磁性，象上海譯製片配音演員的聲音。
至於他以前是否見過我，不得而知，機會是有的。我們捕了魚都是在河邊現場銷售的。有時候我也會在現場收款開發票，買魚的人還真不少。在拥挤推搡着的男女老少人群中，有拿着大箩筐其他连队的司务长，还有不少拎着菜篮子的职工家属。我不是每回都跟了去的，队里还另有一个姑娘跟去捕鱼做销售。
二、想像不可靠
一天D會計說小S要來隊買魚了，真要見面了心裡就好像有個小兔子砰砰亂跳。那天小S跟D會計在宿舍前，沒到會計室來。我也只在辦公室窗子裡，遠遠地看了一眼。想像這玩意兒真的很害人，匆匆的一瞥，想像就被現實擊潰了。當然不是他長得醜，而是我對他的想像太完美了，以至於現實與想像對不上號兒。為此心裡好難過，從此有好一陣子小S不再打電話來了。也許他也對我失望了，其實我那一瞥有誤。首先我是俯視，再則D會計身高至少一米八。
一天在紙袋廠食堂工作的一個男生，突然打電話來，說請我回去一次有人要見我。去了才知道是小S。時過境遷這次就沒有什麼隔閡與顧慮了。我們三個像老朋友一樣打了一會兒乒乓。閒聊中提到了我將要回上海一次，小S說能安排我搭個車。
三、下車時似乎有一絲惆悵
能搭到車回上海是一舉兩得的，不用花錢，又省了時間。本來四小時的路途，縮短了一半兒。但搭車也不容易，只有那種與市區有貨物運輸往來的單位才有這個便利。要搭車就要託那些單位認識開車的幫忙，或者自己去碰運氣，等在車边上。我跟隊裡同事還搭過一两次車。一般司機都比較有同情心，除非沒地兒坐了。有的男生會遞給師傅一支煙就算是賄賂了。搭車的都坐在堆滿貨物的車鬥裡，擠在夾縫中或坐在貨物上面。一路上風特別大，渾身受凍，車兜的擋板不到兩尺高，不拉住捆綁貨物的繩索還很危險。每次搭車的人起碼有十來個，到上海後都是蓬頭垢面的。但奇怪的是到了市區要下車了，我心裡反到泛起一絲惆悵，希望就一直這樣坐下去。一到市區，司機就馬上讓搭車的下去，赶紧走人，怕遇到警察。
四、第一次和男孩靠得這麼近
去搭車那天我摸黑走了六七里路，天才濛濛亮就到了幹校。機房在二樓，屋子不大，燈光幽暗，打蠟木地板。屋子中間有幾個插满了线的大立柜。我靜靜地站在北窗邊，前方三、四十米處，一盞昏黃的路燈下，停著一輛我將要搭乘的大卡車，有人正在裝卸貨物。
實木窗框的窗台兒才到膝蓋高。小S工作台只一步之遙。他在交換台前忙過一陣後，放下耳機話筒，輕輕地走過來，站到了我的身後。有生以來第一次那麼有感覺地與異性站得這麼近。我被他的剛陽氣息包圍著，雖然沒有任何的身體接觸，卻令人感到思緒飄飄然抓收不住。身子軟綿綿搖搖欲墜，內心便生出了些許朦朧的期盼。我用僅存的一點理智，把持著沒有倒下去。
短短幾秒鐘似乎過了好幾年，因為什麼也沒發生，朦朧的期盼轉成一絲絲的幽怨，還好天还没亮，這瞬間的尷尬被昏暗掩飾了。
五、搭車坐進車頭的經歷
這次搭車我坐進了車頭裡，比過去兩次搭車坐在車鬥裡要舒服多了。我坐在司機後邊，車頭裡還有三位裝卸工，他們四個都是男性青壯年。一路上大家都沒說話，那天車還不是直接去上海市區。他們先去了金山和其它什麼地方裝卸貨物，都是荒郊野外人煙稀少的去處。
我一直有著莫名的緊張和擔心，不由得產生過後悔搭車和其它恐怖想像。本來四個小時的路程幾經周折到市區已經是天黑了。告別了他們後再輾轉坐公共汽車回家。
後來想想，那年月的人還都很淳樸的，我坐在裡面，大家都不說話是我冒昧打攪了他們，少了一路上的說說笑笑。他們那天也一定會覺得很不自在。
我此後再也沒搭過車。
六、又見小S但沒敢相認
那次搭車後，小S還是沒來過電話。終於強忍著心慌拿起電話，聽到的不是他的聲音。後來我婉轉地裝作若無其事地跟D會計打聽了一下。他說小S早就被調走了。去了哪裡我也不便打聽，終究連手也沒碰過的。但又一想畢竟電話裡是熟人了，走了也該打個招呼吧。
1974年10月21日那天，我與隊裡的幾個姑娘，摸黑走了18里路，去了一趟奉城。快進城了天剛麻麻亮，電線桿上的電線也開始四通八達了，再走幾步一個拐彎兒，城鎮外圍的房舍出現了。此時突然看見不遠處有個人，正在一根電線桿子上接電話線。走近了抬頭一看，呀！正是小S心！裡一咯噔，臉上陡然發燙。他也看到了我，但我們都沒打招呼，畢竟以前沒有見過幾次，再加上很久沒有他消息了。我略有遲疑，但沒停下腳步。
緊接著又懷疑我是不是看錯人了。
七、那場不告而別的真相
這兩天我才真正想通，當年他為何走得那樣倉促，甚至沒能給我打個電話告別。想必那次調離事發突然，他或許再也没有機會私自動用機房的電話，也無法親自來漁業隊道別。
畢竟在那個年代，所有的通話都要經過總機，面對其他熟識的接線員，那些藏在電話線裡的心事終究難以啟齒。
我們在奉城郊外的電線杆下，曾有過瞬間的對視，那時天剛蒙蒙亮，誰都沒有開口。也許是地點實在太出人意料——誰能想到在如此荒僻的地方(遠離農場、遠離市屬幹校)，我們竟會這樣猝不及防地相遇？那一刻，一向矜持的我遲疑了，沒能停下腳步。而他，或許也正懷疑自己的眼睛。
走過，路過，錯過，人生總是如此半點不由人。
回想起來，連我自己都覺得有些不可思議，我如此投入的一場情感，到頭來，竟連他的全名都不知道，不知道那個姓氏究竟是「斯」還是「司」。
更不可思議的是，這一切竟都發生在短短兩個月內。我於1974年8月調往漁業隊，而10月21日便是最後的一瞥。在那短短的兩個月裡，為何能發生這麼多故事？難道在那樣的歲月裡，時間真的過得特別漫長嗎？
但在那個喜歡幻想的年紀，也許我迷戀的本就是那份求而不得的朦朧。隨著歲月的流逝，他在黎明微光中，電線杆上的模糊身影，又添了一層朦朧。
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An Era When Hearts Were Harder to Reach Than Phone Lines
Chapter 1: The Magnetic Voice of 1974
It was 1974. Farm telephone calls had to go through the Shanghai Fifth-Seven Cadre School’s exchange. The operator, Xiao Si, often called to chat. I wasn’t a big talker, so it was always him asking, me answering. If he got busy, he’d always tell me: “Don’t hang up, wait for me.”
Everyone said my phone voice sounded older than a young person. I wondered why he liked talking to me. His voice, though, was magnetic—like a dubbing actor’s from a translated film.
Whether he’d seen me before, I didn’t know. Maybe. When we caught fish, we sold them by the river, and sometimes I’d handle the cash and receipts. The crowds were packed and jostling—other team quartermasters with huge baskets, or staff families with woven bamboo baskets. I didn’t always go. Another girl from the team also handled the sales.
Chapter 2: When Imagination Met Reality
One day, the accountant said Xiao Si was coming to buy fish. Hearing it, my heart felt like a little rabbit pounding.
Xiao Si and the accountant were outside the dorms, not in the accounting room. I only caught a fleeting glance from the office window. Imagination is truly a double-edged sword: that single, hurried glance completely shattered my expectations. It wasn't that he was ugly; it was that I had made him too perfect. Reality couldn’t match my imagination. It made me quite sad.
For a long time after that, Xiao Si didn't call. Perhaps he was disappointed in me too. But I was looking down, and the accountant was tall. Maybe I misjudged him.
One day, a guy from the paper bag factory cafeteria called, asking me to come down because someone wanted to see me. It was Xiao Si. Time had passed, and the awkwardness was gone. The three of us played some ping-pong like old friends. The talk turned to my upcoming trip back to Shanghai. Xiao Si said he could arrange a ride for me.
Chapter 3: A Lingering Melancholy on the Road
Hitchhiking back to Shanghai was a win-win: it saved both money and time, cutting the usual four-hour journey in half. But getting a ride was no easy feat. Only units with cargo transport to the city offered such convenience. You either had to know someone who knew a driver or try your luck waiting by the trucks.
I had hitched a ride once or twice with colleagues. Drivers were generally sympathetic unless the truck was completely full. Sometimes, the boys would offer the driver a cigarette—a small "bribe" of sorts.
We hitchhikers would sit in the open truck bed, squeezed between piles of cargo or perched right on top. The wind was fierce, and we’d be frozen to the bone. With the truck’s sideboards less than two feet high, it was dangerous; you had to cling to the ropes securing the cargo for dear life.
There were usually at least a dozen people on board, and by the time we reached Shanghai, we were all disheveled and covered in dust. Yet, strangely, as we reached the city and it was time to get off, a flicker of melancholy would rise in my heart. I wished the ride would just go on forever. But as soon as we entered the city limits, the driver would hurry us off, anxious to leave before a policeman spotted us.
Chapter 4: A Fleeting Pulse in the Operator Room
The day of the hitchhike, I walked several li in the dark. It was barely dawn when I reached the Cadre School. The telephone switchboard room was on the second floor, a small room with dim light and a waxed wood floor. Middle-ground were some tall, wire-filled cabinets. I stood silently by the north window. A hundred yards away, under a dim yellow streetlamp, the big truck I was to board was being loaded.
The solid wood windowsill was only knee-high. The window was a step away from his workbench. He was busy at the exchange for a bit, put down his headset, and walked over softly to stand behind me.
For the first time in my life, I felt the presence of the other sex so intensely. I was enveloped by his masculine aura. Though there was no physical contact, it made my thoughts float, impossible to hold. My body felt soft, as if about to collapse. Inwardly, a faint, hazy hope arose. With my last ounce of reason, I kept from falling. Those few short seconds felt like years. Because nothing happened, that faint hope turned to a faint resentment. It was lucky it wasn't yet light; the faint darkness hid my fleeting embarrassment.
Chapter 5: A Journey in the Truck Cabin
This hitchhike, I sat in the truck’s cabin. It was much more comfortable than sitting in the truck bed. I sat behind the driver. The cab also had three loaders—all four were men. We all kept quiet. That day, the truck wasn't even going straight to Shanghai; they had to load and unload at Jinshan and other places first, all remote, sparsely populated spots. I felt an unexplainable tension and worry, starting to regret the hitchhike and imagining other terrors.
What should have been a four-hour trip turned into a day, and it was dark by the time we reached the city. I said goodbye to them and then took several buses to get home. Looking back, people back then were pure. Everyone was silent because I had abruptly interrupted their usual banter. They probably felt uncomfortable that day too. I never hitchhiked again.
Chapter 6: A Chance Encounter by the Telegraph Pole
After that hitchhike, Xiao Si still didn't call. Finally, bracing myself against a racing heart, I picked up the phone—but it wasn't his voice on the other end. Later, I casually asked Accountant D about him, trying to sound indifferent. He told me that Xiao Si had been transferred a long time ago. I didn't convenient to ask where. We had never even touched hands, after all. But then I thought, we were acquaintances on the phone; he should have said goodbye.
Later, on October 21 of that year, I and a few girls walked 18 li in the dark to Fengcheng. It was barely light as we neared the town. More power lines started to appear. A few more steps and a turn, the houses on the outskirts appeared. At that moment, I saw someone in the distance, connecting phone lines on a utility pole. As I got closer and looked up—ah! It was Xiao Si. My heart missed a beat. My face flushed. He saw me too.
We didn't say hello. After all, we had only seen each other a few times, and it had been a long time with no news of him. I hesitated slightly but didn't stop. Immediately, I started second-guessing myself: Was that really him? Or did I just misidentify a stranger?
Chapter 6: The Truth Behind the Silent Goodbye
It was only these past few days that I truly understood why he left so abruptly back then.
Following that sudden transfer, he likely never had another chance to use the station's phone privately, nor could he come to the fishing team to say goodbye in person. After all, in those days, every call had to pass through a switchboard. Facing other familiar operators, the feelings hidden within the phone lines were, in the end, too difficult to voice.
Beneath a telegraph pole on the outskirts of Fengcheng, our eyes met for a fleeting moment. The sky was just beginning to brighten, yet neither of us spoke. Perhaps the location was simply too unexpected—who could have imagined that in such a remote place, we would encounter each other so catch-as-catch-can?
In that moment, reserved as I always was, I hesitated and didn't stop my pace; and he, perhaps, was also questioning his own eyes.
Walking by, passing through, and ultimately missing each other. Life is often thus—rarely within our own control.
Looking back, even I find it somewhat incredible. For an emotion I invested so deeply in, I ended up not even knowing his full name—unsure if that surname was "Si" (斯) or "Si" (司).
What’s even more surreal is that all of this unfolded in just two short months. I was transferred to the fishing team in August 1974, and by October 21st, we had already shared our final glimpse. How could so much have happened in such a brief span of time? Was it that those days in the past truly moved more slowly, making every moment feel like an eternity?
But at that age of idle dreaming, perhaps what I was enamored with was that very sense of unattainable haziness. As the years drift by, his blurred figure on that telegraph pole in the glimmer of dawn has only grown more ethereal.
Special thanks to Gemini AI for providing the spirited translation and text refinement.
第三百四十二篇
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