Chapter 163

I took varoja up the steps and saw the driver waiting in the door of the residential building. See me come out, quickly meet up to pick up the child, holding out.

When I got out of the residential building, I saw that the car I was riding had changed, the windows were all broken, and there was a thick layer of soil on the car body. I couldn't see the original color at all. I opened the door and saw that the seat was full of soil. I hesitated and got into the car.

When the driver handed valoja in, he gave a wry smile and said apologetically, "Comrade commander, I found the car just now and found that it was like this."

I took valoja, held him in my arms, gave the driver a smile and said, "it's OK, it's OK. If you didn't take us to the basement to hide, maybe we would be the same as this car. "

The driver walked around the back of the car and sat on the bridge. He turned around and asked me, "Comrade commander, where are we going?"

"You'd better go back to the hospital and drive quickly."

The driver glanced at varoja in my arms, then readily agreed and started the car.

As soon as the car started, the chilling wind poured in through the windowless windows. I was afraid that valoja was frozen. I just wanted to ask him, but I found that he had already fallen asleep.

After driving for more than ten minutes, I finally arrived at the hospital. When I saw the tall and solid building of the hospital, I was relieved. Finally, I arrived. If I didn't arrive, I would be frozen into ice.

After thanking the driver, I pushed the door open and got out of the car with valoka in my arms. As soon as she got out of the car, varoja woke up. He struggled to get out of my arms, rubbed his eyes and asked curiously, "where is this?"

"This is a military hospital," I said as I moved my numb hands and feet Then he took his hand and went inside. Although the injury on my shoulder is no longer serious, I still can't hold a five or six-year-old for a long time.

On the way here, I thought, I can't listen to Ren valoja living on the street any more. A child as young as him will soon die on the street because of lack of food and clothing in this cold winter. Although I also know that there are many such things in the war, valoja is different from others. He does not belong to this era and does not know how to survive in the war. I want to help him find someone who can take care of him.

When I led him through the hospital hall, from time to time, some soldiers or officers came to me to stand at attention and salute. Because I was holding valoja with my right hand, I didn't return the salute, just nodded at them.

Came to the restaurant, from the big open door, the hall was empty. I yelled to the inside, "Mom, Cheka, are you there? Mom, Cheka! Are you there? "

"Who is it?" Inside came an impatient voice, "the restaurant is closed. Come back at dinner time."

I recognized that this was the voice of the mother I was looking for. I quickly pulled valoja into the restaurant and said aloud, "Mom, Cheka, it's me! I'm Rita

"Ah?! It's Rita With the sound, the fat old lady rushed out of the kitchen, wiped her wet hands around her waist, and then gave me a bear hug.

I was strangled tightly by her, but I still didn't let go of valoja's little hand. My mouth came to her ear and said, "Mom, Cheka, I brought a child to see you."

"Child?" The old lady let go of me, stepped back, looked at me suspiciously, then turned her eyes to varoja, who I was holding, and asked curiously, "where does this child come from?"

"In the street." I really don't know how to explain the origin of the child, so I can only perfunctorily say: "on my way back, I met this child begging in the street. I thought he was poor, so I brought him back."

"Poor child!" Then the old lady squatted down, stretched out her hands to valogia, and said softly, "come to me, child."

Varoja seemed to have not heard the old lady's words. Standing in a daze, I squatted down, pushed him gently, and said, "LOVA, go. The old lady is calling for you. Go to her." Valoja was still standing in the same place, his face muscles twitched violently. Suddenly, he glanced at the corner of his mouth and burst into tears. He rushed into the old lady's arms and began to cry. He cried intermittently and said, "wonia... Great grandmother, you... You don't know me, i... I'm LOVA!" Your great grandson LOVA!... "

Valoja's words, like a bolt from the blue, fell on my head and scared me to sit on the ground. Oh, my God? It's not like that, is it? They are so related.

When the old lady heard valoja's address, she was surprised to push him away and asked in disbelief, "what did you just call me, son?"

Varoja wiped her tears and sobbed, "great grandmother, you... You are my great grandmother!"

The old lady was so scared that she waved her hand and shook her head like a rattle: "son, you must be mistaken. I have only one son. He is not married yet. How can he have children?"

"Yes! That's right The child cried and said, "my grandfather's name is isayev. He is your only son." Then he threw himself into the old lady's arms.

I wanted to stand up with my hands, but when I heard the child's words, Ji Lingling had a cold war and sat down on the ground again. It's incredible that the child I saved was the grandson of issayev. Sitting on the cold floor, I meditated that it was 1941, and the child was from 1975, 34 years apart. If issayev married after the end of the patriotic war, he would have his own children by 46. When his children are 75 years old, they are almost 30 years old. It's normal to give him another five or six-year-old grandson. What's more, when the child sees the old lady, she calls her name accurately, but the old lady doesn't correct him, which at least proves that the child's name is not wrong. You know, although I know that the old lady is issayev's mother, I don't know her name at all. I don't know the old lady's name. Of course, I can't tell the child in advance who to take him to see. So I estimate that nine out of ten of the kinship that the child said is true. To understand this, I stood up again with both hands and patted the old lady on the shoulder. When she looked back at me blankly, I reminded her, "Mom, Cheka, is there anything to eat in the kitchen? The child hasn't eaten well these days. He may be hungry. "“ Yes, yes, yes She repeatedly replied, "you see, I'm really confused. I'm going to prepare food for him." Then he released his hand holding the child, stood up, wiped his face, and turned into the kitchen. Looking at the old lady's back disappearing from the kitchen door, I went up and took valoja's hand, led him to a table and sat down, comforted him and said, "LOVA, you sit here first. I'll see if the food is ready yet."“ Mm-hmm He answered me with a cry. When I went to the kitchen door, I turned around and saw that he was sitting at the table without moving, so I entered the kitchen safely. There was a plate of bread on the kitchen table. The old lady was cutting enema. When she saw me go by, she asked me in a low voice, "what's the matter with this child? Why do you call me great grandmother?"“ I'm not sure about that! " I faltered and perfunctorily said: "maybe he was scared when he saw his parents die in front of him. In addition, he was in a state of panic for a long time, and his nerves were not normal." I'm not good at speaking. After that, I just feel a fever on my face. Fortunately, the old lady didn't notice my abnormality. She nagged, "what a poor child." she put the sliced enema into the empty plate and went out with a plate in one hand. When I saw that she was going out, I quickly followed her. After a few steps, the old lady suddenly stopped and whispered to me, "Rita, this child is also very poor. Let me take him in and let him be my grandson." Listening to her saying this, I'm a little sad. What's the matter? Great grandchildren have become grandchildren, and the whole generation is in a mess. But I couldn't refute the old lady, so I had to follow her and say, "well, that's a good idea."