deskmate in the painting

II. The First Snow of 1991

In 1991, during the snowy season, we elementary school students took turns to start the fire at school. That day was my turn. As soon as the first light appeared, I grabbed a bundle of corn cobs and headed out. The wind cut through my collar like ice, so I tightened it and ran to school. The school was made up of a few old brick buildings. On the doorframe of one building hung a small wooden plaque with the calligraphy "Sixth Grade, Class Four." Over the years, the writing had faded, making it hard to read.

It was only 5:30, and class didn't start for a while, so I needed to get moving. First, I had to crush the corn cobs for burning, but I couldn't find a hammer. I grabbed a half-brick from the corner and started hammering, but after a long while, I had only managed to crush a few. Just as I was about to give up, the classroom door opened, and a rosy-cheeked face peered in, holding a hammer. It was Tan Xiaojing.

She was obviously out of breath from running. "Jiang He, you're in charge of the fire today. I brought you the hammer. I took it home last night to split firewood."

"Oh," I said, taking the hammer and starting to crush the corn cobs, thinking, "Good thing she came; otherwise, if I were late and couldn't start the fire, the teacher would definitely scold me."

Xiaojing didn't just stand by. She squatted nearby, helping out...

Before long, the fire was crackling, radiating a bit of warmth around the stove. Xiaojing tossed a small piece of coal into the fire, and I noticed a cut on her hand, which was smeared with coal dust.

I asked, "What happened to your hand?"

"Hmm? What?" Xiaojing seemed unaware of the blood until she followed my gaze. "Oh, it must have been scratched by the brick. It's nothing," she said with a smile.

"You don't need to stay. The fire is going now, so I can handle the rest."

"It's okay. It's warm here, and I need to add more coal," Xiaojing said as she threw another piece of coal into the stove.

"Could you just go?" I was anxious, thinking, "What if the other students see us together? They might not understand. Especially with her-everyone avoids her..."

"I'm not leaving. It's not your stove; I want to stay here."

"But the hammer isn't yours either. Why did you bring it here?" I blurted out, "You're... you're a thief."

"You-how dare you!" Tears started to well up in her eyes.

"Jiang Jun's pencil was stolen by you, and so was Xiao Bo's eraser. You're just a thief." I brought up recent incidents of missing school supplies to prove I wasn't accusing her falsely. If everyone said so, it must be true. I was waiting for her explanation, hoping for a reasonable answer.

"No, I didn't-" Xiaojing's voice was stretched in a pleading tone, but she tried hard to hold back her tears.

"You did! You did! No one dares to sit with you, and you're always in the last row by yourself because everyone is afraid of you stealing!" I poured out everything I had heard.

"It's not that. My dad said it's because there weren't enough students to pair up, so no one could sit with me," Xiaojing finally let her tears flow in frustration as she ran to her solitary seat in the last row.

The fire grew stronger but only warmed a limited area of the classroom. The back corner remained cold and uninviting.