Alas, this year has gone by really fast. In the blink of an eye, it’s the fifth day of the first lunar month. On the platform, the seats were occupied by those returning, and the carriages were filled to the brim with suitcases and things that contained worries about leaving home. However, for some people, "going home" is a word that means action. It has to be achieved by running, chasing, or even only in dreams.
That drive home was not an accident
There is a story I just read. The train driver from Nanchang Bureau is Sun Lei. He has not been home for more than ten days. He was originally supposed to take a rest, but he ended up picking up another Linke. What a coincidence, the terminal of this train is Jiujiang, and Pingxiang is where his home is.
Her wife and children, carrying steaming meals, quietly waited for his return at the exit of the station. The moment they met, the family hugged each other tightly. After more than ten days of being covered in dust and enduring more than ten days of physical and mental exhaustion, it seemed that everything was for those brief seconds.
In the dispatch room, someone made an extra calculation.
I often hear about the miracle of Spring Festival travel and mention the 3 billion people movement. This number is so huge that in the end we only remember being crowded and tired. However, Sun Lei's incident made me aware of the "human touch" behind the numbers.
Originally, he was supposed to run in the opposite direction, but the so-called "People and Vehicles Office" at his work unit, based on the large amount of traffic data, just arranged this trip for him. It was not done casually, but deliberately.
It's not a smooth journey, it's a "success"
There is a term called "order-based driving". This year the railway has come up with a new thing. Based on the waiting data, trains will be added to the places where there are many people and the trains will go there. This was originally a calculated efficiency. But if you think about it carefully, Sun Lei's matter is beyond the scope of efficiency and he just calculated a trace of warmth.
The technician from the Nanchang Locomotive Depot was very honest when he said that even just a very brief meeting with his family was a kind of reunion. This sentence is really unique coming from the mouth of someone who is engaged in dispatching work. They usually only have routes, durations and safety red lines in their eyes, but in their hearts they still harbor a trace of homesickness as a driver.
1280 miles, two audible flutes
I once again recalled another couple, Liu Cong and Yue Cao Xiaojuan. On the first day of the first lunar month, which was her birthday, she was on duty at the station and he was driving a truck. Six hundred kilometers apart, he said, Wife, when I drive to the Guangdong border, I will blow the horn twice towards where you are, you must hear it.
She certainly couldn't hear it. But that was the secret code between them. It means that my situation is safe, I miss you in my heart, and you should also be safe and well.
How can there be any "free ride" in this world? Every time a vehicle goes home, there is someone in the big data, on the schedule list, on the tight safety string, looking at you one more time, calculating one more step.
There is someone waiting for you at the end of the tracks
What Sun Lei said, "This time, the car was driving in the direction of home," sounded really uncomfortable. They send others home every day, but they themselves are like migratory birds, always flying in the opposite direction from home.
So you say, what is reunion?
It’s not necessary to enjoy that New Year’s Eve dinner. But in the middle of the night, when you get out of the train, there is a familiar figure under the light at the exit. The food in his arms is still steaming.
Those dispatchers who stayed in the signal building until their eyes were filled with red bloodshot eyes, and those drivers who broke their legs while running on the rails, they relied on "vehicles heading home" one after another to send countless people back to the place of reunion. Occasionally, I also send myself back to the place called home.
Even if it's just a hug at the doorstep.
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