【小故事】我最喜欢的季节小故事：夏天的第一根冰棍

铁盒里的五块钱和两根绿豆冰棍

那年夏天热得邪乎，知了在槐树上一刻不停地叫，柏油路晒得发软，踩上去留下浅浅的鞋印。小卖部的冰柜上蒙着一层白汽，绿豆冰棍五毛钱一根，是我整个夏天最馋的东西。可零花钱一周一块，早被西瓜和汽水花光了。我从抽屉里翻出一个装饼干的铁盒，在盒盖上戳了个缝，跟妈宣布：我要自己攒钱买冰棍。

头一天我就把兜里剩的五角投了进去，硬币滑进铁盒叮的一声，好听极了。往后每天，帮奶奶拎一趟菜、把屋里的凉席抖干净，都能挣一两毛。铁盒搁在床底下，我夜里躺着听见硬币在里头响，就梦见那根绿豆冰棍，绿皮儿，咬开里头是沙沙的甜。攒到第三个星期，我数了三遍：五块。够买十根，也可以买两根大的。

星期六午后，蝉叫得最凶的时候，我攥着五块钱跑去小卖部。王爷爷从冰柜里掀开棉被，白汽冒出来，我挑了两根最大的绿豆冰棍，一块钱。往回走的路上太阳晒得后脖颈发烫，我舍不得吃，攥着冰棍跑，塑料袋在手腕上晃。路过井台，马小跳正蹲在那儿拿蒲扇扇风，看见我就喊：你手里是什么！

我把另一根塞给他。他愣了愣，说你不是攒了好久才买得起一根吗。我说我算过了，两根一人一根，正好。我们俩举着冰棍比谁舔得慢，看谁能把它留到最后。他的冰棍化了一滴在鞋面上，心疼得直咧嘴，我笑他，结果自己手上那根也滑下来一截，赶紧用嘴接住。马小跳一本正经地说，吃冰棍得慢慢吃，不然太阳会把它抢走的。王爷爷坐在小卖部门口摇扇子，说这俩娃，一根冰棍吃出过年的人气儿。

那天的冰棍到底什么味，我记不太清了，只记得井台边的风、化在手指上的甜，还有马小跳说的最后一句话：明天咱俩一人再攒五毛，后天还买。夏天那么长，五毛钱那么小，可我们那时候都觉得，好日子在后头，多得很。

Five Yuan in a Tin Box and Two Mung Bean Popsicles

That summer was fiercely hot. Cicadas screamed without pause in the locust trees, the asphalt softened in the sun and left shallow shoe prints when you stepped on it. The popsicle case at the little shop wore a layer of white mist, and mung bean popsicles cost five jiao each, the thing I craved most in the whole summer. But pocket money was one yuan a week, long since spent on watermelon and soda. I dug a biscuit tin out of the drawer, punched a slit in its lid, and announced to my mother: I am going to save up and buy my own popsicle.

On the first day I dropped the five jiao left in my pocket through the slit. The coin slid into the tin with a ding, the best sound in the world. After that, carrying a bag of groceries for grandma or shaking the sleeping mat clean each earned me one or two jiao. The tin lived under my bed. Lying in bed at night, hearing the coins rattle inside, I would dream of that mung bean popsicle: green skin, and inside a grainy sweetness when you bit through. By the third week I had counted three times: five yuan. Enough for ten small ones, or two big ones.

On a Saturday afternoon, when the cicadas were loudest, I ran to the little shop with the five yuan clutched in my fist. Grandpa Wang lifted the quilt off the popsicle case and white mist rose. I picked the two biggest mung bean popsicles, one yuan. On the way home the sun burned the back of my neck, but I could not bear to eat, so I ran holding them, the plastic bag swinging on my wrist. Passing the well, Ma Xiaotiao was squatting there fanning himself with a palm fan. He saw me and shouted: what is in your hand!

I pushed the other one into his hand. He froze for a second and said, did you not save a long time just to afford one? I said I did the math: two popsicles, one each, exactly right. We held our popsicles up and competed at licking slowly, seeing who could keep theirs to the last drop. One drop of his melted onto his shoe, and he winced over it. I laughed at him, and then a piece of mine slid down too, and I caught it with my mouth. Ma Xiaotiao said with great seriousness that you have to eat a popsicle slowly, or the sun will steal it away. Grandpa Wang sat at the shop door fanning with a palm leaf, saying these two kids eat one popsicle like it is the New Year.

I cannot quite remember how that popsicle tasted. I only remember the wind by the well, the sweetness melting on my fingers, and the last thing Ma Xiaotiao said: tomorrow we each save five jiao again, and the day after we buy more. Summer was so long, and five jiao so small, but back then we both believed the good days were ahead, and there were plenty of them.

那根化在路上的冰棍

我叫刘豆子。那年暑假，我们院里的孩子都疯玩，一到午后，太阳把水泥地烤得能煎鸡蛋，我们躲在槐树荫里数地上的光斑。谁兜里有五毛钱，谁就是那天的王。可那天下午，我和胖墩儿俩人的钱凑一块儿才四毛五，差五分，小卖部的绿豆冰棍就在冰柜里躺着，眼巴巴看着，买不成。

胖墩儿不死心，回家把口袋翻了个底朝天，又从沙发缝里摸出一个五分硬币，举起来喊天助我也。我们蹲在井台边，把硬币排成一排数了两遍，五毛整。我攥着钱往小卖部跑，胖墩儿在后面喊，买两根！买两根！到了冰柜前我们倒犯了难：五毛只能买一根大的，一毛一根的小冰棍能买五根。胖墩儿说，买一根大的，回去一人掰一半，大的带劲。我说行。

坏就坏在出门那一下。王爷爷刚把冰棍递过来，外头的太阳就把它盯上了。白汽还没散，绿皮儿上就渗出水珠来。胖墩儿喊快跑，跟太阳赛跑。我们俩举着那根冰棍穿过巷子，冰棍在手里一点一点往下淌，木棍从绿变白，淌下来的甜水在鞋印子上砸出一个个小点。

明明只有半条街的路，我们跑得上气不接下气。拐过歪脖柳树，冰棍只剩下小半根了，胖墩儿喘着说完了，全完了。我说不准，还有半根呢。回到院里的槐树荫底下，我们把那半根冰棍掰开，一人一半，化在塑料袋里的甜水谁也不舍得倒，蹲在地上，你一口我一口分着喝。胖墩儿舔舔嘴说，下回买了就在店里吃完再回来。我说不行，不在院里吃一圈，别人怎么知道我们买了冰棍。他想了想，说也对。

那根冰棍真正进嘴的没多少，可整个下午我们都是院里最神气的两个人——谁都看见我们举着冰棍跟太阳赛跑。长大以后我吃过各种雪糕，巧克力脆皮、抹茶、榴莲，可没有一根比得上那根化在路上的绿豆冰棍。五毛钱，半条街，一路的甜水，还有一个蹲在你旁边、把最后一口甜水推给你的伙伴。

The Popsicle That Melted on the Road

My name is Liu Douzi. That summer vacation, all the kids in our courtyard ran wild. When afternoon came, the sun baked the cement ground hot enough to fry an egg, and we hid in the shade of the locust tree counting the spots of light on the ground. Whoever had five jiao in a pocket was the king of that day. But that afternoon, my money and the money of Pang Dunr put together came to only four jiao five, five fen short, and the mung bean popsicle at the little shop lay inside the case, right where we could see it but could not buy it.

Pang Dunr would not give up. He went home and turned his pockets inside out, then fished a five fen coin out of the crack of the sofa, held it up and shouted that heaven helps me. We squatted by the well, lined the coins up in a row and counted them twice. Five jiao exactly. I clutched the money and ran to the shop, with Pang Dunr shouting behind me, buy two! Buy two! In front of the popsicle case we got stuck: five jiao could buy one big one, or five small ones at one jiao each. Pang Dunr said, buy one big one, go back and break it in half, the big one is worth it. I said okay.

The trouble began the moment we stepped out. No sooner had Grandpa Wang handed the popsicle over than the sun set its eyes on it. Before the white mist had cleared, water beads seeped out on the green skin. Pang Dunr shouted, run, race the sun. The two of us carried that popsicle through the lane while it dripped down little by little in our hands, the stick turning from green to white, and the sweet drops pattering small dots onto the shoe prints.

It was only half a street, yet we ran out of breath. Around the crooked willow, only a small half of the popsicle was left. Pang Dunr panted, it is over, all over. I said not yet, there is still half. Under the locust tree in the courtyard we broke that half popsicle open, one piece each, and the sweet water melted into the plastic bag nobody could bear to throw away. We squatted on the ground and shared it, one sip for you, one sip for me. Pang Dunr licked his lips and said, next time we buy one we finish it at the shop before going back. I said no. If we do not carry it around the courtyard, how will the others know we bought a popsicle. He thought a moment and said, that is true too.

Very little of that popsicle actually reached our mouths, yet the whole afternoon we were the two proudest kids in the courtyard, because everyone saw us racing the sun with a popsicle in our hands. Grown up, I have eaten all kinds of ice cream, chocolate shell, matcha, durian, but none of them beats that mung bean popsicle that melted on the road. Five jiao, half a street, sweet water all the way, and a partner squatting beside you who pushes the last sip of sweet water your way.