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音乐停的那一拍
联欢会第二项是抢凳子。教室中间的地上摆着五把凳子，凳腿朝天围成一圈，像五个矮矮的蘑菇。规则谁都知道：八个人围着转，音乐一停就坐，没坐到的淘汰，每轮撤一把凳子。报名的人太多，学习委员用正字计数，最后按报名顺序取了八个，我在第四个名字上。
音乐是宣传委员用教室的旧音箱放的，一首儿歌，前奏很长。八个人开始绕着凳子走。老师说过不许提前坐，也不许把手搭在凳子上，我们只好把手背在身后，像一群巡逻的鸭子。我走在凳子的外圈，眼睛假装看天花板，其实全在凳子腿上。我听见自己心跳，咚、咚，比音箱里的鼓点还清楚。
音乐停得毫无预告。八把椅子只够五个人坐，我离最近那把凳子两步半，扑过去，屁股先蹭到凳面，再整个人坐实。同桌马小跳慢了半步，扶了一下凳子背，又讪讪地松开手，退到边上。第一轮淘汰他，他下场时故意一摇一晃，走到座位还冲我做了一个鬼脸。
第二轮我学乖了，不看凳子，看人。我盯着前面李多多，她屁股一沉我就提前挪脚。音乐响着，我绕到凳子侧面，手在身后攥紧。音乐停，我坐下了，李多多也坐下了，我们俩的手同时搭在同一把凳子边上，谁也没让谁，愣了两秒，全班起哄，学习委员过来判：我先到，她淘汰。我赢的时候其实有点心虚，因为我的脚踩了线，只有马小跳在台下喊：踩线了踩线了！老师摆摆手说不算不算，继续，我才把到嗓子眼的心咽回去。
最后一轮剩我和体育委员赵雷。一把凳子，两个人。音箱里换了首慢歌，故意拖，我们俩绕着那把凳子走了得有十几圈，我数着呢，十三圈。音乐停，我俩同时坐，屁股一人一半，凳面被我们一人占了一半，谁也没坐全。全班喊：重赛！重赛！班主任进来说别重赛了，今天人人有糖。赵雷跟我互相看了一眼，同时松手站起来，凳子晃了两下没倒。
发糖是联欢会的最后一项。班主任端着一个铁盒，盒里是水果糖，一人两块，从第一排往后传。传到我的时候盒里剩三块，学习委员把盒子往我这边倾了倾，多给我倒了一块。我把三块糖都塞进铅笔盒，想着留一块给妈，一块现在吃，一块留给明天。
同学表演排在抢凳子前面，我记不太清了，只记得有人唱歌跑调，全班跟着哼，跑调的那位反而越唱越大声。笑声这个东西很奇怪，在联欢会上它不挑理由，跑调能笑，踩线能笑，凳子晃两下没倒也能笑。我后来想起那个六一，最先想起来的就是音乐停掉的那一拍，和屁股蹭到凳面的那一下。
The Beat When the Music Stopped
The second item on the party was musical chairs. Five chairs sat in the middle of the classroom, legs up, arranged in a circle like five squat mushrooms. Everyone knew the rules: eight players circle around, sit when the music stops, the one left standing is out, and one chair gets removed each round. Too many signed up; the study monitor tallied with stroke-counting characters and took the first eight in order of signup. My name was the fourth.
The music came from the classroom's old speaker run by the publicity monitor, a nursery rhyme with a long intro. The eight of us began circling the chairs. The teacher had said no sitting early, no hands resting on the chairs, so we clasped our hands behind our backs like a flock of patrolling ducks. I walked the outer ring, pretending to eye the ceiling while actually watching the chair legs. I could hear my own heartbeat, thud, thud, louder than the drumbeat from the speaker.
The music stopped with no warning. Eight of us, only five chairs: I was two and a half steps from the nearest one, lunged, my bottom grazed the seat first, then I planted myself solid. My deskmate Ma Xiaotiao was half a step slow, steadied the chair back, then sheepishly let go and stepped aside. He was out in round one; he left the circle deliberately swaggering, and from his seat he pulled a funny face at me.
In round two I got smarter - I stopped watching the chairs and watched the people. I fixed my eyes on Li Duoduo ahead, and shifted my feet early whenever her hips dipped. Music playing, I slid to the side of a chair, hands clenched behind me. Music stopped, I sat, Li Duoduo sat, our hands landing on the same chair edge at the same time, neither yielding, frozen two seconds while the whole class hollered. The study monitor came to judge: I got there first, she was out. I won feeling a bit guilty, because my foot had been on the line - only Ma Xiaotiao shouted from the seats: He stepped on the line! The teacher waved it off: doesn't count, keep going - and my heart slid back down from my throat.
The final round left me and PE committeeman Zhao Lei. One chair, two of us. The speaker switched to a slow song, dragging it on deliberately; we circled that single chair thirteen times, I was counting. Music stopped, we sat together, one cheek each, the seat half and half, neither fully seated. The class chanted: Rematch! Rematch! Our homeroom teacher came in and said no rematch, today everyone gets candy. Zhao Lei and I glanced at each other and stood up at the same time; the chair wobbled twice and stayed upright.
Handing out candy was the party's last item. Our homeroom teacher carried a tin of fruit drops, two per student, passed from the front row back. When it reached me, three were left; the study monitor tilted the tin my way and poured me one extra. I stuffed all three into my pencil case, planning to save one for Mom, eat one now, and save one for tomorrow.
The student acts came before musical chairs; I don't remember them well - only that someone sang off-key and the whole class hummed along, and the off-key singer only sang louder. Laughter is strange: at a class party it needs no reason. Off-key singing gets laughs, a stepped-on line gets laughs, a chair wobbling without falling gets laughs. Years later, what returns first when I recall that Children's Day is the beat when the music cut out, and that moment my bottom grazed the chair seat.
韩笑的那套纸牌魔术
韩笑为了联欢会练了两周纸牌魔术。他从家里拿来一副旧扑克，牌角都磨圆了。他在家里对着沙发练，他爸坐在沙发上当观众，他妈在厨房隔着门喊：别对着你爸练，你爸什么都不知道，你练给碗筷看。他不管，照练。两周里他把同一张红桃六从牌堆顶上变到牌堆底下，变了三百多回，闭着眼都能摸到那张牌的毛边。
联欢会那天，教室后墙的黑板上画着彩旗和六个大字：六一快乐。韩笑第三个上场。他穿了一件不太合身的西装外套，是他爸的，袖口长出来一截，他把袖口挽成三道。报幕员念完他的名字，他抱着扑克从座位上站起来，过道太窄，他的书包带挂住了同桌的笔袋，笔袋哗啦掉在地上，全班笑，他也笑，捡起来塞进桌肚接着往前走。
第一个节目顺利。他让观众随便抽一张，记住，插回牌堆，洗牌，切牌，然后把牌一张张摊开在桌面上——红桃六在最左边，抽的牌在最右边，他翻出最右边那张，全班哦了一声。第二个节目也顺利，他把牌扣在帽子里，说变，帽子里的牌变成了一张画着笑脸的硬纸片，是他提前藏在袖口的。这个节目他练得最多，所以做得最快，快得像赶时间。
第三个节目出事了。他要把红桃六从左手变到右手，左手攥紧，右手拍一下，摊开左手——红桃六不在。他右手摊开，红桃六也不在。那张牌在他攥牌的时候滑到了桌上，没人看见，他自己也没看见。他站在讲台上，两只手都摊着，讲台下安静下来。那几秒他听见自己的心跳，还听见后排有人小声说：失败啦。他喉咙发干，把两只手合上，又打开，还是什么都没有。
然后韩笑做了一件谁也没想到的事。他弯下腰，把西装下摆一撩，从裤兜里摸出那张红桃六——其实不在裤兜里，是他弯腰时眼角扫到桌上的牌，顺手捞的——举到头顶，喊：它在我裤兜里躲着呢！全班笑倒一片，连班主任都在后面拍桌子。他趁笑声把牌塞回牌堆，重新来了一遍，这一遍顺得像水，翻出红桃六的时候掌声和笑声一起炸开。
鞠躬下台的时候，他袖口挽的三道袖口散了一道，帽子里掉出一颗水果糖，是他变魔术用的道具糖，滚了两下停在过道。前排一个女生捡起来，剥开吃了，说：这个魔术变出糖来了。韩笑在过道那头听见了，摆手说那是赠品。
散会以后，没人记得那张滑到桌上的牌，大家记得的是裤兜里的红桃六、帽子里的糖、挽了三道的袖口。韩笑回家跟他妈说，魔术失败了。他妈问那观众怎么都笑了。他说，笑就是成功了呗。他妈说，那你这魔术还会变糖，比他爸那副牌强。他把那副磨圆了角的扑克收进抽屉，红桃六放在最上面。
Han Xiao's Card Trick
Han Xiao practiced his card trick for two weeks for the class party. He brought an old deck from home, its corners worn round. He rehearsed facing the living-room sofa with his dad as the audience, while his mom shouted from the kitchen through the door: Don't perform to your dad - he knows nothing; perform to the dishes. He ignored her and kept practicing. In two weeks he moved the same six of hearts from the top of the deck to the bottom over three hundred times; with his eyes shut he could feel that card's fuzzy edge.
On party day, the blackboard on the back wall carried painted pennants and six big characters: Happy Children's Day. Han Xiao went on third. He wore a suit jacket that didn't fit - his father's - sleeves hanging a good inch too long, which he rolled up into three bands. When the host read his name, he stood up clutching the deck. The aisle was narrow; his bag strap snagged his deskmate's pencil case, which crashed to the floor. The class laughed, he laughed, stuffed it back under the desk, and walked on.
The first trick went smoothly. A spectator picked a card freely, memorized it, pushed it back into the deck; he shuffled, cut, then spread the cards face-up across the desk - the six of hearts at the far left, the chosen card at the far right. He flipped the far-right card, and the class went oh. The second trick also worked: he placed cards into his hat, said abracadabra, and the cards inside turned into a stiff paper square with a smiley face - palmed in his sleeve beforehand. He had drilled that one the most, so he did it fastest, fast as if racing a clock.
The third trick fell apart. He was supposed to move the six of hearts from his left hand to his right. Left hand clenched, right hand slapped it, he opened the left hand - no six of hearts. He opened the right hand - no six of hearts either. The card had slid onto the desk while he gripped the deck; nobody saw it, least of all him. He stood on the platform with both hands open. The classroom went quiet. In those seconds he heard his own heartbeat, and heard someone in the back row whisper: It failed. His throat went dry. He closed his hands, opened them again - still nothing.
Then Han Xiao did something nobody expected. He bent down, flipped his jacket hem, and fishing out the six of hearts from his trouser pocket - actually it wasn't in his pocket; bending, his eye caught the card on the desk and he snatched it up - held it over his head and shouted: It was hiding in my pocket! The class collapsed laughing; even the homeroom teacher was pounding the desk at the back. Riding the wave of laughter he slid the card back into the deck and ran the trick again, this time smooth as water; when the six of hearts surfaced, applause and laughter burst together.
Bowing on his way off, one of his three sleeve rolls came undone, and a fruit drop fell out of his hat - a prop from the trick - rolling twice before stopping in the aisle. A girl in the front row picked it up, unwrapped it, ate it, and said: This trick produced candy. Han Xiao heard him from down the aisle and waved: That's a freebie.
After the party nobody remembered the card that slid onto the desk. Everyone remembered the six of hearts in the pocket, the candy in the hat, the three rolled-up sleeves. Going home, Han Xiao told his mom the trick had failed. She asked why the audience was laughing then. He said: laughing means it worked. She said: well, your trick even produces candy - better than your dad's deck. He put the worn-cornered deck into a drawer, the six of hearts on top.
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