The Reconciliation Jar
The end-of-class bell was an iron plate struck by the principal, its crisp sound startling the sparrows from the locust tree.
Children poured out of the classroom. One boy ran too hastily and fell. Wu Yunzhu quickly helped him up, brushing the dirt from his pants.
“I’m fine, Teacher!” The boy grinned, revealing the gap where his front tooth was missing. “My dad says a real man doesn’t fear pain!”
With that, he ran off like the wind.
Wu Yunzhu tidied up the miscellaneous items on the podium and discovered a drawing Xiaoman had quietly left there.
On the back, written in pencil, were the words: “Teacher Wu: Thank you for teaching me how to write letters. Xiaoman.”
She folded the drawing three times and put it in her shirt pocket. When she walked out the school gate, she saw her mother standing on the field ridge with a bamboo basket, from which several pear tree saplings showed their verdant tender shoots.
“How was it?” Sun Hongying came up to meet her, brushing the chalk dust from her daughter’s shoulder.
Wu Yunzhu looked toward the children playing in the distance. Xiaoman’s red hair ribbon was like a dancing flame in the sunlight.
“Better than I imagined.” She took the bamboo basket, her fingertips touching the moist soil. “Tomorrow I want to teach them to write poetry.”
The calligraphy class in the afternoon had just begun, and the classroom still lingered with the lazy atmosphere of the afternoon.
Wu Yunzhu was bending down to guide Xiaoman’s pen-holding posture when she suddenly heard a dull “bang” from the back row, immediately followed by the sound of a stool falling.
“Give it back! My dad brought that from the county town!” Huzi’s voice was so loud it made the window frames buzz.
“You’re lying! It’s mine!” Xiao Douzi’s voice was as shrill as a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
By the time Wu Yunzhu turned around, the two boys were already wrestling together.
Huzi grabbed Xiao Douzi’s collar, Xiao Douzi bit hard on Huzi’s wrist, and the two were like two angry little beasts, rolling on the dirt floor and raising a cloud of dust.
The surrounding children either screamed and dodged away, or actually gathered around to cheer them on. The classroom was in complete chaos.
“Stop it!” Wu Yunzhu’s voice was drowned out by the noise.
She stepped forward quickly but was hit on the knee by a flying pencil case. The instant the lid popped open, several pencils clattered to the ground.
Among them, a mechanical pencil printed with cartoon patterns was particularly conspicuous.
Wu Yunzhu suddenly remembered what her mother had said.
She took a deep breath, picked up the tin tea cup from the podium, and tapped it three times with her pen. “Clang, clang, clang.”
“Truce Tree!” she called out, using a term the village elders often used. “Who remembers the rules of the Truce Tree?”
The classroom miraculously quieted down. Xiaoman was the first to raise her hand: “My grandfather said that people who fight under the Truce Tree must stop first and wait for the sun to move as long as three tree branches…”
“Right!” Wu Yunzhu seized the opportunity to step between the two boys. “Now we’re going to the old locust tree on the playground and wait for the sun’s shadow to move three hand-spans.”
She gestured with her thumb and index finger. “Before that, no one is allowed to speak.”
The two children, panting heavily, let go of each other.
Huzi’s jacket had come unstitched, Xiao Douzi had a red mark on his face, and the two, like defeated little roosters, were led out of the classroom by Wu Yunzhu, one in each hand.
The May locust tree was blooming with clusters of white flowers, their sweet fragrance mingling with the earthy scent floating in the air.
Wu Yunzhu had the two children sit with their backs against the tree trunk while she squatted in front of them.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves, dappling the three of them. In the distance came the call of a cuckoo.
“Now,” Wu Yunzhu placed the retrieved mechanical pencil flat in her palm, “who can tell me the story of this pencil?”
Huzi jerked his head up. “My dad bought it! My name is even carved on the barrel!”
He reached to grab it but was gently blocked by Wu Yunzhu.
Xiao Douzi suddenly burst into tears with a “wah”. “I… I traded my slingshot for it… He said the pencil had no lead…”
Tears carved two white tracks through the dust on his face.
Wu Yunzhu turned the pencil over. Under the sunlight, the inside of the barrel indeed had the tiny characters “Huzi” carved into it.
Her heart eased, but she saw Huzi’s expression change from anger to confusion.
“I definitely put it in my schoolbag…” He scratched the back of his head, then suddenly widened his eyes. “Wait! I lent it to you last Friday!”
Xiao Douzi nodded through his sobs. “You said you didn’t want it anymore… so I…”
“That was said in anger!” Huzi stamped his feet anxiously. “Who told you to let my golden beetle escape!”
Seeing the two boys about to argue again, Wu Yunzhu quickly raised her hand. “The Truce Tree time isn’t up yet. Now, I want you to do something.”
She plucked a locust leaf, tore it in half, and handed one piece to each. “Huzi, first name five good qualities of Xiao Douzi, then Xiao Douzi will name five good qualities of Huzi.”
The two children froze. Locust flowers silently drifted down, and a petal happened to land on Huzi’s messy hair.
“I… I don’t know how…” Xiao Douzi clutched the half leaf, his voice as thin as a mosquito’s.
“Then I’ll demonstrate first.” Wu Yunzhu turned to Huzi. “First, Xiao Douzi proactively helped you look for the escaped golden beetle last time; second, his handwriting is neater than yours; third…”
She deliberately drew out the sound. “When it rained last week, who gave you the only piece of plastic sheeting to cover your schoolbag?”
Huzi’s ears slowly turned red.
He stared at his cloth shoes, where a small hole had already worn through at the toe: “…It was Xiao Douzi.”
“Your turn.” Wu Yunzhu tapped Xiao Douzi’s shoulder.
“Huzi… Huzi runs fast.” Xiao Douzi counted on his fingers. “He… he dares to catch snakes, and he fed me wild jujubes…”
His voice grew quieter and quieter. “Last time I had a fever, he carried me to the health clinic…”
Huzi suddenly looked up. “You still remember? I thought you’d forgotten long ago!”
“I didn’t forget!” Xiao Douzi was so anxious he was about to cry again. “But later you kept stealing my eraser…”
Wu Yunzhu handed the mechanical pencil to Huzi. “Return it to its rightful owner. But you need to apologize for speaking in anger.”
Then she said to Xiao Douzi: “You should have asked clearly first.”
The two children hung their heads, neither reaching for the pencil.
At that moment, a rustling sound came from behind. Wu Yunzhu turned around to find all the class children had quietly gathered around. Xiaoman was holding a clay jar missing a corner.
“Teacher,” she said timidly, “our class has a ‘Reconciliation Jar,’ left by Teacher Wang. People who fight have to put little stones in it together, and when the jar is full, then…”
“Then they make up!” the children said in unison, and even Huzi and Xiao Douzi couldn’t help but join in the shouting.
Wu Yunzhu’s nose stung with emotion. She took the clay jar and found it already contained quite a few smooth pebbles, each one marked with names and dates in ink.
“Who can tell me, do you have a stone you put in here?” she asked softly.
The girl with braided hair raised her hand. “My sister and I put one in. Last autumn during harvest, we fought over a roasted sweet potato…”
“Tiezhu and I put one in too!” the boy missing his front tooth jumped up. “He fed my cricket to the chickens!”
The children chattered away, and Xiaoman suddenly said in a small voice, “My brother… before my brother left, he put a stone in the jar.”
She touched the crack along the jar’s rim. “He said when the jar was full he’d come back, but it’s already been two years…”