回首，695

695，巨鹿路上一里弄號。

2017年初春去上海，又不知不觉走向695。

是个阳光淡淡的日子。走进弄口，吹来一阵冷风。是风寒？是心境？天色有些阴沉下来，下垂的双手抚摩裤缝，不知迈步拾阶，还是并拢伫立。抬头瞥见朱红木门，拜识画界前辈贺友直先生的诸多往事，尤其是他浓浓的乡情，像打开了记忆岁月的录像机，一一回放。

初次拜访是2009年的一个夏日，那时因为在组织策划《慈孝句章》连环画创作，欲聘请贺先生为顾问，便从宁波去上海。拜访的三人都与贺先生不熟。作为具体联系人的我，怕生头陌脚的窘迫，特意从收藏连环画的朋友处拿来贺先生绘画的《十五贯》《李双双》等影响数代人的连环画，一方面想请贺先生签名留念，一方面用以联络感情、拉近距离。

进得贺先生家门坐下，我们说明来意。接着，我兴致勃勃地恭敬递上连环画。

“是我的作品吗？”对着家乡客人，贺先生笑眯眯地问，但没有接手，而是立起站到书桌前，拿过新出版的《贺友直说画》，边翻边谈他对连环画创作的见地：人物构造，画面细节，还有小动物、小道具、小动作之类的“小四”……贺先生婉转作了拒签。我有些尴尬，也不免沮丧，怎么向朋友交待呢？我很快意识到自己的冒失，就专心听贺先生说画，他说的是画，而对我的写作亦有所启发。说着说着，贺先生又让我们欣赏了他白描大半幅的《黄浦江图》。

家乡之情胜过一切，贺先生爽快答应担任顾问。我们一直沉浸于贺先生的画论与他的画作之间，已记不清那天告别离开的情景，只记得车上了高速没多久，贺先生打来电话，告知我的眼镜遗忘在他那里。那语音似乎映出先生一脸的和蔼并坦然，耳边又响起他的发问——是我的作品吗？蓦地，我释然，婉拒签名中包含着前辈的谦逊。

再去695，莫约在一个月后，是为请贺先生作序一事。跨进书房，我看到书桌上放着我的眼镜，由一块半旧的淡黄色的擦镜布垫着。我戴上眼镜，不知该说什么，只是眼巴巴望着贺先生。贺先生给我倒好开水，笑眯眯地叠好擦镜布。

谈完事，我拿出素描本请贺先生留墨宝。贺先生接过去嗖嗖几笔，洁白的纸上留下自画像。由此我才知道，那年先生米寿。

印象还是在2009年，拙作《慈城年糕的文化记忆》撰著接近尾声，有文友提供贺先生曾绘有年糕画的信息。我打电话表达将该画用作插图、以期蓬荜生辉的意思，贺先生直爽回应：“宁波人的东西自然要给宁波用的。”真的好感动。我当即萌发人如其名“友（爱）直（爽）”的感想，反复絮叨几遍。

打那以后去上海，我大都会去695，探望贺先生，送上一些夏日的杨梅、冬至的年糕等土特产。一次，贺先生说，杨梅真甜，可惜血糖高，不能多吃。听说血糖高宜吃火龙果，以后我就在695口子上的水果店买几只火龙果，以表对先生的敬意。

2012年的冬日，我因另一拙作《再寻麒麟童》去上海，想请贺先生谈谈周信芳先生，用于书中“名家谈名家”一节。贺先生是个戏迷，小辰光学生意时，就在黄金大戏院看过麒麟童京戏，他说周先生的戏演得真好，人家多称麒麟童为“麒老牌”，但那辰光勿晓得麒麟童祖籍宁波。他又说自己不懂京剧，若要了解戏剧界的情况，他可介绍这方面的行家。热心可见一斑。正聊着，来了电话，没讲几句，贺先生以接待家乡客人为由挂了电话。他已视我为忘年之交。

贺先生拿出金黄色的奖状似的本子，说是宁波美术馆聘他为艺术委员会专家。我请贺先生与聘书拍张照片，说：“贺老师是阿拉宁波宝贝。”贺先生忙说“瞎讲瞎讲”……贺师母告诉我，贺先生新绘一幅做年糕图，被宁波一收藏家收藏，她让我去拍照留存……

之后，逢年过节虽都向贺先生电话问候，但那天下午的拜访竟成最后相见。2016年我在法国探亲，从电子报上看到贺先生仙逝的消息，想起近年来我们的交往，不禁伤神悲恸。初夏回国，我专门去695，很想亲手递交几张照片给贺先生。站在朱红木门所挂的绿皮信箱前，我不禁自问：“此能通往天堂吗？”

2017年初春，我再次从695的弄口走向弄底，耳边不时传来上海人家糯滴滴、软绵绵的“侬”音，又回想贺先生由“侬”引出的一席话。贺先生说的是地道宁波话，从麒麟童说到京剧流派，又谈到甬剧金彩香，他说：“阿拉宁波甬剧口白的‘你’不是呕（叫）‘侬’，而是呕‘鱼糯’也……”好一个“鱼糯”（音近宁波话中“5”的读音），恍惚是时空的穿越，那不是童年刻录于记忆里的老阿太的叫法吗？贺先生缓缓而道，言语间含着他对家乡传统的永不能割舍的情感。

695，是一条普通的里弄，有普通的小楼房，它曾让我走近，让我回首，让我悼念一位来自家乡的普通的艺坛前辈。

Setting foot in Shanghai again in the early springtime chill earlier this year， I couldn’t help walking into an alley off Julu Road. Walking up the stairs that lead to a scarlet wooden door with the doorplate numbered ‘695’， I felt the chill in my heart and my mind was full of flashbacks.

On a summer day in 2009， my two colleagues and I visited He Youzhi at his home in Shanghai for a comic book project I was working on， bringing with me two comic books borrowed from a collector friend of mine.

The artist greeted us with a smile on his face and happily agreed to take the role as the art advisor of the project we were working on – probably because of the feelings for his hometown， but declined to sign the comic books I brought. Instead， he stood up and showed us a reprinted . Flipping through the book， he shared his thoughts about character design and the presentation of graphic details such as animals and props. He then showed us his recreation of the famous painting Huangpu River.

On our way back， I got a call from the artist kindly telling me I left my glasses at his home.

I met He Youzhi again about a month later to talk about possibilities of his contribution to the book’s preface. I saw my glasses covered with a used lens cleaner on his desk. I put on my glasses， not knowing what to say. After clumsily explaining why I was there again， I took out a sketch book for the artist to draw. He finished a self portrait within a few minutes.

Also in 2009， I phoned the artist for possibilities of his contributing to my book about the rice cake tradition of Cicheng. Much to my surprise， I got his quick reply assuring me that he was happy to do something for someone who is also from his hometown.

Ever since then， I’d try my best to visit him whenever I got a chance to go to Shanghai， bringing him seasonal fruits and snacks， such as waxberry and rice cake， from Ningbo.

The following years saw our friendship intensify. In the winter of 2012， we had a chat about famous Peking Opera artist Zhou Xinfang during my visit to his home. Excusing himself as “not know much about Peking Opera”， he offered to recommend other Peking Opera experts for me. Again I was moved by the man’s kindness， and felt his love for his hometown in his strong Ningbo dialect.

At the end of the talk， the artist showed me a certificate granted by the Ningbo Art Museum. “Why not go find the collector who purchased one of his recent works about the rice cake of Ningbo and take a picture of the work， if you are interested？” The artist’s wife chipped in.

The visit in 2012 turned out to be our last meeting with each other. The news about the illustrator’s passing away at the age of 94 came when I was visiting my family in France in 2016.

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