【小故事】下雨天的回忆小故事：水洼里的小纸船

水洼里开走的纸船

那天下午天黑得早，放学的铃还没响完，雨点就噼噼啪啪地砸在窗玻璃上。大家冲出教室，等我跑到校门口，路边低洼处已经积起一个大水洼，雨水落在上面，鼓起一个个小泡，啪地又破开。

周小雨蹲在水洼边上，看见我就招手：「快来，我们折纸船。」她从书包里翻出两本用旧的练习本，撕下两页纸，低头折起来。她折得很快，纸对折，两个角往中间一压，底下撑开，再往上一提，一只尖头平底的小船就躺在她手心。我照着做，折歪了好几次，总算也折出一只，船口有点歪，但能浮。

我们把船放进水洼，船身晃了晃，稳住了。「预备——放！」她喊。她的船叫白翅膀，我的船叫蓝波浪。两只船在水面上漂起来，往前挪一点，又打个转。我们鼓起腮帮子对着船吹气，雨落在头发上也没顾上擦。

正玩得舍不得走，雨忽然变大。水洼里的水一点点涨，漫过路沿，顺着一道斜坡汇成一条小水沟，往巷子口的下水道栅栏流过去。白翅膀先被卷进水沟，打着转往前跑，蓝波浪紧跟着也追了上去。「船！」我们同时喊出声，拔腿就追。水沟的尽头是铁栅栏，两只纸船撞在一起，蓝波浪的一角已经泡得发软，眼看就要往下沉。

就在船要撞上栅栏的时候，一只手从栅栏缝里把它们捞了起来。是住在我们巷子里的五年级哥哥，手里撑着一把大伞。他看看手里湿透的两只纸船，又看看追得气喘吁吁的我们，笑了：「你们的船要坐滑梯回家呀。」他把船上的水甩了甩，递还给我们。我和周小雨连着说了好几声谢谢。

雨渐渐小了。我们把泡软的船角捋平，又把船放回水洼。白翅膀和蓝波浪轻轻碰在一起，像两个互相搀扶的好朋友。哥哥撑着伞走远了，他的影子倒映在水洼里，一晃一晃。周小雨说：「明天要是还下雨，我们还放船。」我说好。到现在，每逢下雨，我都会想起那个水洼、两只纸船，还有那只刚好伸过来的手。

The Paper Boats That Sailed Away from the Puddle

That afternoon the sky darkened early. Before the last bell finished ringing, raindrops were already hammering against the window glass. Everyone rushed out of the classroom, and when I reached the school gate, a big puddle had formed in the low spot by the road. Rain fell on it, puffing up small bubbles that popped one after another.

Zhou Xiaoyu was crouching at the edge of the puddle. She saw me and waved me over. Come on, we can fold paper boats. She dug two worn exercise books out of her schoolbag, tore off a page from each, and bent her head to fold. She folded fast: paper in half, two corners pressed to the middle, the bottom propped open, then pulled up. A little boat with a pointed bow and a flat bottom lay in her palm. I copied her, crooked it several times, and finally made one too. Its mouth was a little crooked, but it floated.

We set the boats into the puddle. They rocked, then steadied. Ready, go, she shouted. Her boat was called White Wing, and mine was Blue Wave. The two boats drifted forward a bit, then spun around. We puffed out our cheeks and blew on them, too busy to wipe the rain off our hair.

Just as we were having too much fun to leave, the rain suddenly grew heavier. Water in the puddle rose little by little, spilled over the curb, and gathered into a narrow stream running down a slope toward the drain grate at the mouth of the lane. White Wing was swept into the stream first, spinning as it went, and Blue Wave followed right behind. The boats, we both shouted, and ran after them. At the end of the stream stood the iron grate. The two paper boats bumped into each other, one corner of Blue Wave already soft with water, about to sink.

Just before the boats hit the grate, a hand reached through the bars and scooped them up. It was the fifth-grade boy who lived in our lane, holding a big umbrella. He looked at the two soaked paper boats in his hand, then at us out of breath, and laughed. Your boats were trying to slide home, he said. He shook the water off the boats and handed them back. Zhou Xiaoyu and I said thank you again and again.

The rain slowly eased. We smoothed out the softened corners of the boats and set them back into the puddle. White Wing and Blue Wave bumped gently together, like two good friends leaning on each other. The boy walked away under his umbrella, his reflection swaying in the puddle. Zhou Xiaoyu said, if it rains tomorrow, we will float boats again. I said yes. To this day, whenever it rains, I remember that puddle, the two paper boats, and the hand that reached out at exactly the right moment.

红船和白船

雨停的时候，巷子口的水洼亮得像一面小镜子。明明从家里跑出来，手里攥着一只红色的纸船。那是他趁妈妈不注意，从旧作业本上撕下一页红封面纸折的，船身鼓鼓的，船头尖尖的，他还在船舷上画了两条波浪线，说是吃水线。

涛涛已经在等他了，脚边放着一只白船，是他用数学课的草稿纸折的，折得板板正正，连船底都是平的。两个好朋友把船放进水洼，红船在前，白船在后，像一支小小的船队。

「出发！」明明喊。他们轮流蹲下去，对着船尾吹气。红船漂得慢，但是稳；白船轻，风一吹就打转。水洼中央有一片云的反光，两只船从云上开过去，涛涛说那是它们的南海。明明说等船绕一圈回来，就算环游世界成功。

谁也没注意，巷子深处的屋檐还在滴水，一滴，两滴，水洼悄悄满了，开始顺着坡往下走。先是白船被带离了原地，接着红船也转了个方向，直直地朝巷子低处漂去。那里有一道浅浅的水流，通向下井箅子的铁条缝。明明先发现，喊了一声坏了，红船要跑了。涛涛扭头一看，白船也在水流里，两只船一前一后，越漂越快。

明明撒腿去追，鞋踩进水里也顾不上。红船先漂进那道水流，船头一翘一翘，像自己长了腿。涛涛没追，他蹲在墙根飞快地捡东西，捡起一根细长的柳树枝，跑回来趴在水流边上，把树枝探出去。红船正好撞到树枝上，他轻轻一勾，红船转了个弯，被他拖回浅水里。白船卡在铁条缝边上，船帮湿软，他再用树枝尖小心地把它挑出来。

两只船都救回来了，就是红船的船头泡塌了一角，吃水线也糊了。明明捧着船，嘴瘪了瘪。涛涛看看自己的白船，又看看红船，把自己那只白船递过去：「给你，我回去再折一只，我折得可快了。」明明把红船往怀里一揣，摇头：「不用换，它破了也是我的船。」他想了想，又撕下本子最后一页白纸，蹲在屋檐下给涛涛折了一只新的，折得歪歪扭扭，但是能浮。

太阳出来了，水洼亮闪闪的。一只新折的白船和一只缺了船头的红船，又并排漂在水洼里。涛涛说，这下它们一个是独眼海盗，一个是补丁帆的老船长。明明笑出了声。后来整个巷子都知道了这件事，谁家孩子下雨都爱折纸船，可谁也不许把船往井箅子那边放——那是红船和白船立下的规矩。

The Red Boat and the White Boat

When the rain stopped, the puddle at the mouth of the lane shone like a small mirror. Mingming ran out of his house clutching a red paper boat. He had torn a page of red cover paper from an old exercise book while his mother was not looking. The hull was plump, the bow pointed, and he had drawn two wavy lines along the side, calling them the waterline.

Taotao was already waiting for him. At his feet sat a white boat folded from his math class scratch paper, crisp and neat, even flat-bottomed. The two good friends set their boats into the puddle, the red one in front, the white one behind, like a tiny fleet.

Set sail, Mingming shouted. They took turns crouching down and blowing on the sterns. The red boat moved slowly but steadily; the white one was light and spun whenever the wind touched it. In the middle of the puddle lay the reflection of a cloud, and the two boats sailed across the cloud. Taotao said that was their South Sea. Mingming said that once the boats circled back, they would have completed a trip around the world.

Neither of them noticed that the eaves deep in the lane were still dripping, one drop, two drops. The puddle quietly filled up and began to move downhill. First the white boat drifted from its place, then the red boat turned and headed straight for the low end of the lane, where a shallow stream ran toward the iron bars of a drain grate. Mingming spotted it first and shouted, oh no, the red boat is escaping. Taotao turned and saw that the white boat was in the stream too, the two boats one behind the other, moving faster and faster.

Mingming ran after them, not caring that his shoes were soaking wet. The red boat entered the stream first, its bow bobbing as if it had grown legs of its own. Taotao did not chase. He crouched by the wall, quickly found a long thin willow branch, ran back, lay down at the edge of the stream, and stretched the branch out. The red boat bumped right into the branch. He gave it a gentle hook, the boat turned, and he pulled it back into the shallow water. The white boat was wedged against the iron bars, its side soft with water, so he carefully lifted it out with the tip of the branch.

Both boats were saved, though the red boat's bow had collapsed at one corner and its waterline had smeared. Mingming held the boat and his mouth twitched. Taotao looked at his white boat, then at the red one, and held his out. Take mine, he said. I will fold another one at home. I fold fast. Mingming tucked the red boat against his chest and shook his head. No swap. Even broken, it is still my boat. Then he thought for a moment, tore off the last white page of his book, crouched under the eaves, and folded a new one for Taotao. It was lopsided, but it floated.

The sun came out, and the puddle glittered. A newly folded white boat and a red boat with a missing piece of bow floated side by side again. Taotao said now one was a one-eyed pirate and the other an old captain with a patched sail. Mingming burst out laughing. After that, the whole lane knew the story. Whenever it rained, every child in the lane loved folding paper boats, but nobody was allowed to set a boat near the drain grate. That was the rule the Red Boat and the White Boat had made.