“No one taught me. I think going to kindergarten is a waste of time. All we do all day is eat and sleep, or play ‘Drop the Handkerchief’ in the yard. And those kids don’t like playing with me anyway. I’d rather learn something on my own, so that when I start elementary school, I’ll have a head start, instead of suffering there.” Brian Carter, in order to achieve his goal of not going to kindergarten and avoiding mental torment, didn’t care whether these words should really come from the mouth of a four-year-old. There was nothing scary about making his parents suspicious; it was still better than hanging out every day with a bunch of snot-nosed, bed-wetting kids.

“You can really study by yourself? I... I...” Brian Carter’s father was so shocked he stuttered. In fact, what Brian Carter had just said deeply moved him. This was exactly the kind of life he hoped his son could have at this stage. But he really didn’t have time to tutor his son in self-study. To keep him from getting too wild at his grandparents’ house and affecting his future schooling, he had no choice but to send him to kindergarten. But for his son, who was still running around causing trouble just yesterday, to suddenly change his temperament overnight and speak so logically—it was hard for him to accept. He tried to say something for a long time, but couldn’t get the words out.

“We can give it a try. Just three days. If I don’t finish my assignments in these three days, then starting from the fourth day, I’ll go back to kindergarten. My grandpa can vouch for me. I’ll keep my word!” Brian Carter could tell his father was tempted. In his later life, his father was always like this: as long as it was about studying, he’d pay whatever was needed, put in any effort, even swallow his pride and ask for help—anything, as long as Brian Carter was willing to study. That was his Achilles’ heel, always spot on.

“Alright, you don’t even need to borrow books yourself. Uncle Bennett’s family definitely has them. I’ll go borrow them for you, right now!” Brian Carter’s father finally couldn’t resist the temptation of his son’s initiative to study. He tossed his bowl aside, stood up, and left to borrow elementary school textbooks for Brian Carter.

The Uncle Bennett he mentioned was the father of Grace Bennett, the little girl who had been walking behind Brian Carter during the parade. They also had an older sister, Stella Bennett, who was about the same age as Brian Carter’s youngest uncle. Generally, girls were more careful with their studies, and since there was also a younger sister in the family, they should still have the elementary school textbooks.

After dinner, Brian Carter lingered at his grandparents’ house and refused to leave. In the end, with his grandparents’ intervention, he successfully slept in his grandpa’s bed. It wasn’t that he liked sleeping with his grandpa—the old man snored and got up before dawn, making it impossible to sleep soundly. But to avoid sharing a bed with his parents, especially sleeping next to his mother, he had to put up with it. It wasn’t that he wasn’t close to his mother, but with the mentality of someone over forty, even if he’d turned into a baby, he definitely wouldn’t want to sleep with his mother.

The next day, Brian Carter got up very early. He didn’t have a choice—his grandpa had snored all night, and as soon as the birds hopped onto the branches, the old man jumped out of bed too. Years of going to bed and getting up early had formed a strict biological clock in him: in bed at 9:30 p.m. sharp, eyes open at 4 a.m. sharp, no alarm needed.

Actually, there wasn’t even an alarm to set. The family only had two clocks: one in the main room, a wooden mantel clock that chimed every hour and once at the half-hour; the other was on grandpa’s wrist, an old Shanghai watch, model A581, which he’d worn for nearly twenty years. Grandpa planned to pass this watch on to the youngest uncle when he retired, so he could wear it to take over his job.

A wristwatch was still a luxury in the 1970s. A domestic Shanghai-brand watch with a Swiss Selca movement like this one cost 70 yuan in the 1950s—about half a year’s salary for grandpa, assuming he didn’t eat or drink. By the 1970s, such a watch cost around 120 yuan, and even as a master locksmith with apprentices, grandpa only made a little over 70 yuan a month.

Chapter 8: Grandpa the Rooster

The old man got up early, and Brian Carter couldn’t sleep anymore, so he just got up too. In his later life, he had the habit of jogging in the park in the morning, so he figured he might as well keep it up in this life. Grandpa was surprised that this little rascal wanted to go exercise with him in the park, but he didn’t object—he was happy to take his grandson along to Ditan Park.

In 1976, there was no subway on the Second Ring Road yet. Brian Carter couldn’t remember exactly which year the Line 2 subway was built, but he knew it was after he started elementary school. When the subway was being built, the sides of the Second Ring Road were completely dug up, turning into a huge ditch, which seriously affected his ability to lead his little team to play in Ditan Park. He ended up leading them across an iron pipe over the ditch, got caught by the construction workers, and was reported to the school. As a result, the hard-earned squad leader stripe he’d just gotten was taken away.