“这是谁定购的东西呀！”
妻如往常一样推开晨曦中的前门，突然朝着屋里喊了起来。我知道屋里只有我一个人，便飞快冲洗掉口中的牙膏泡沫，跑到门前。一只塑料袋放在门槛前的地毯上，里面整齐地叠着两袋未开封的冷冻青豆仁。
“肯定不是我!”坦然的回答却消除不去我心中的疑惑，“是不是女儿远程为我们定购的?”
“想得滑稽。”妻提起塑料袋，端详了一番，“看，这是Home Deport的购物袋。不可能是快递，是有人特意放到这里的!”这结论有说服力。于是我们开动脑筋寻搜和这两袋青豆有关联的蛛丝马迹。一时并没有什么结果。
吃早饭的时候，在锅铲和炒锅的碰撞声中，我们几乎同时喊出来：“是不是她！？”她最近在我们家吃过饭，并赞赏过这炒锅里做出的青豆红椒炒肉丝。
我想起几年前认识她的那个情景。暮春的一个下午，我按约到某公园里去参加公司的聚会。那公园在一个大约两层楼高，十分秀美的小山坡上，停车场在山坡下。停好车，我沿着坡下的小道往阶梯的方向走，边走边欣赏道旁的景致。
四十度左右的斜坡覆盖着碧绿的草坪，鲜红的三角梅有规律地撒在绿草中，各色的野花，争先恐后地正从草毯里往外挤。坡顶上有几棵老松树，巨大的枝干康概地遮护这面斜坡。松树下聚着一群人，
从传过来的谈话声中可以判断出是些休息闲聊的中国老年人。一个老年妇女独坐在一边的石凳上编织毛衣。
突然，随着一声“哎呀”，我看见一团白色的毛线球从编织老人的手中滑落，然后毫不犹豫地往坡下滚来。老人手里正在编织的衣物上连着毛线球的一端。雪白的毛线球像一只被白线牵着小兔子，在草地上跳跳蹦蹦，跑跑停停。
遇到野花和三角梅，毛线球改变方向，接着往另一个方向继续滚动。毛线在草地上留下的那时而柔和，时而刚硬的轨迹，有如一只白色彩笔在时髦的绿色印花纸上画出的单线条抽象画，像人体，像动物，像山水，美不胜收。
我停下脚步，津津有味地观赏那难得一见的景致。小兔子最终奔到坡底，停在我的脚下。
沿着白线往上瞧，老人焦急地在拉毛线。然而线上的绒毛和草叶顽固地粘连着，根本拉不上去。她又试着沿坡下来收线，很明显缺乏平衡能力，又退了回去。看着老人焦急的模样，我捡起脚边的毛线球，顺着白色的线迹，
一边收线一边往斜坡上爬，最后把毛线球交到老人手里。
“啊，好心人，谢谢，谢谢！”她看上去六，七十岁，说一口四川话。她把手中的编织物和毛线球小心地放在石凳上，弯腰打开她的提包，从里面拿出一块半版报纸大小的毛线织巾，“没事我喜欢打毛线，全家的枕头罩，
沙发罩都是我打的。这张沙发巾送给你！”那沙发巾织得相当有水平，一朵朵梅花围着中央一个拳头大的“福”字。“你一定要收！我打得快，坐在这里两天就是一块。”她指了指不远的那群人，“我不喜欢和他们扯那些鬼事情。
那个穿黄夹克喳得最凶的就是我家老头子。”旁边那群人的争论声传到我的耳里，南腔北调的口音中都是“福利”，“保健”， “绿卡”之类。
于是那块精致的沙发巾就一直搭在我书房的靠椅背上。
几个月前，我在小区里散步，忽然有人走过来停在我跟前，“你住在这里啊，好心人？”我认出了是她。清瘦的面容老了一些，模样倒还没有变。她告诉我，女婿最近卖掉了经营很久的生物制品公司，得了不少钱，
他们在这个小区买了一栋大房子。根据她的描述，我知道他们家到我家步行只要几分钟。她还告诉我，老伴前年去世了，她已经申请到了位于市中心的低收入老年公寓，自己单独住。女儿有时接她过来住几天，两边跑跑，
可以解解寂寞，也帮助做点家务事。
我们就这样成了邻居。
有一天下午正在弄晚饭，听到门铃响。打开门，见到是她站在门口，手里拿着一卷钞票，十分无奈地轻声向我请求，“能不能打电话帮我叫一部出租车？”她告诉我，女儿一家因事出远门，接她过来看房子。今天突然收到电话，
她所住的老年公寓第二天一早要维修大楼的空调系统，急需她回去打开房门腾出地方。
知道她还没有吃晚饭，我把她让进屋里，对她说，“这样吧，在这里一道吃晚饭，然后我送你过去。”那天吃的就是青豆红椒炒肉丝。
那是一栋12层的住宅高楼，位于市中心繁华又安静的一隅。从外观上看，属于中上等建筑标准的楼房。整栋楼居住的都是符合低收入条件的人士，老年人尤多。因为有专业的勤杂工和服务人员管理，各处收拾得井井有条，
是个适宜居住的地方。
她的住房在四楼。那是个一居室的全套公寓，卧室，客厅，厨房，卫生间俱全，设备都十分现代化。我的一位友人在类似的地带租了这样一套，月租$3000左右。“我每月付250美元，
水电费全免。”她大概对美国大众对“大家拿”的厌恶有所闻，接着解释道，“我在国内是一个你都不知道名字的小县城的小学教师，到现在每月的退休工资也不过5000人民币。”我脑中的计算器很快运算了一下，5000/7 = 714，
714/3 = 238。我的知识告诉我，在美国（至少是加州），低收入的门槛大约是每月$800 - $900左右，低收入公寓一般收取居住者总收入的三分之一。她是一位诚实的低收入人士！
她领我参观了餐厅，会议室，健身房，这使我想起了在纽约参观的谷歌大楼里的类似设施，一点不逊色。她指着一位70岁左右在打乒乓球的男人，小声对我说，“这位是复旦大学的教授，退休工资一，两万。他在楼下车库还有一辆车，
每星期有两天，开车出去玩，打高尔夫球。”据我所知，申请低收入老年公寓，对拥有汽车有一定的要求。不知道他是如何操作的。不管怎样，这些人是这个社会，和这个时代的“赢家”。
这时候，一位华裔男人走过来告诉她，“你要的食物我按你的要求领来放在我屋里，等会儿过来拿。”她告诉我，每周星期一，食物车送来食物，免费领取，最后还笑着补上一句，“经常有在你们家吃的那种青豆！”
是的，那两包青豆一定和她有关。我拨通了她的电话。
“你们对我这样好，真不晓得怎样报答！”她说得十分诚恳，“其实也是物归原主，是你们这些纳税人养活了我们。”
她后面那句话使我震惊。我至今还没有听到有哪一位在这个“垂死的资本主义社会”里受惠的，精通为人和为政之道的专家，学者说过这样的话，表达过如此浅显的道理。
后来，我又曾开车路过那个公园，还特地停下来看了看那个美丽的斜坡。几棵松树仍然挺着苍劲的身姿，但树下不再见到那些老年中国人。我想，他们大概都住进了我所见到的或类似的低收入老人公寓，
高傲地享受着这个制度的优越性。
我知道，包括我在内的几乎所有勤勤恳恳地为这种制度的优越性而纳税的中产者们，对这优越性的瑕疵颇有微言。然而我又问自己，你不是抱怨自己母国的社会贫富不均吗？抱怨在那里的社会对弱势群体横眉冷对吗？
公平不也是你从那里移民出来的理由之一吗？美国的现实，就是每人一票决定自己和自己阶层的命运的实际操作，尽管那里有如此多的缺憾。
（2023年7月）
English Version ---------------------------
Green Peas
"Who ordered this?"
My wife pushed open the front door in the morning light as usual, and suddenly shouted into the house. I knew I was the only one in the room, so I quickly rinsed the toothpaste foam
from my mouth and ran to the door. A plastic bag was placed on the carpet in front of the threshold, and inside it were two unopened bags of frozen green Peas neatly stacked.
"It's definitely not me!" The calm answer couldn't dispel the doubts in my heart, "Did our daughter order it for us remotely?"
"It's funny." My wife picked up the plastic bag and looked at it carefully. "Look, this is a shopping bag from Home Deport. It can't be a courier, someone put it here on purpose!" This
conclusion is convincing. So we used our brains to search for clues related to these two bags of green beans. For a while there was no result.
At breakfast, over the clatter of spatulas and woks, we yelled almost at the same time: “Is that her!?” She had recently dined at our house and admired the green peas made in this wok
stir-fried shredded pork with pepper.
I remembered the scene when I met her a few years ago. One afternoon in late spring, I went to a company party in a park as scheduled. The park located on a very beautiful hillside which
is about two stories high, and the parking lot is under the hillside. After parking the car, I walked along the downhill path towards the stairs, admiring the scenery along the way. The slope
of about forty degrees is covered with green lawn, the bright red bougainvillea is regularly scattered in the green grass, and wild flowers of various colors are vying to squeeze out from the
grass blanket. There are a few old pine trees on the top of the slope, and their huge branches cover the slope in a healthy way. A group of people gathered under the pine tree, and from the
sound of the conversation, it could be judged that they were some old Chinese people who were resting and chatting. An elderly woman was sitting alone beside on a
stone bench knitting a sweater.
Suddenly, with a sound of "Oops", I saw a ball of white yarn slipping from the hands of the weaving old woman, and then rolled down the slope without hesitation. One end of a ball of
yarn is attached to the clothes that the old woman is knitting. The snow-white yarn ball is like a little rabbit led by a white thread, jumping up and down on the grass, running and stopping.
Encountering wildflowers and bougainvilleas, the ball of yarn changes direction and continues rolling in the other direction. The sometimes soft and sometimes hard tracks left by the yarn on
the grass are like a single-line abstract painting drawn by a white color pen on fashionable green printing paper, some like human bodies, some like animals, and some like landscapes, which
are too beautiful to behold. I stopped and watched the rare scenery with relish. The little rabbit finally ran to the bottom of the slope and stopped at my feet.
Looking up along the white line, the old woman is anxiously pulling the yarn. However, the fluff on the thread and the blades of grass are stubbornly stuck together and cannot be
pulled up at all. She tried to come down the slope, but apparently lacked balance and backed away. Seeing the anxious look of the old woman, I picked up the ball of yarn at my feet, followed
the white traces, and climbed up the slope while taking up the thread, and finally handed the ball of yarn to the old woman.
"Ah, kind person, thank you, thanks!" She looked sixty or seventy years old and spoke Sichuan dialect. She carefully placed the knitting and yarn balls in her hand on the stone bench,
bent down to open her bag, and took out a woolen towel the size of a half-page newspaper, "I like to knit when having nothing to do, I made all the pillow covers and sofa covers of our family.
This sofa cover is for you!" The sofa cover was woven very beautiful, with plum blossoms surrounding a fist-sized Chinese character "Fu" in the center. "You must accept it! I knit fast, and
I can get one piece after sitting here for two days." She pointed to the group of people not far away, "I don't like to talk to them about those shitty things. The one in the yellow jacket
with most vicious is my old man.” The arguing voices from the group next to me reached my ears, and their accents were all “welfare”, “health care”, “green card” and so on.
So that exquisite sofa cover has been placed on the back of the armchair in my study.
A few months ago, I was walking in the community, and suddenly someone came up and stopped in front of me, "You live here, kind person?" I recognized her. Her thin face has aged a bit,
but his appearance has not changed. She told me that her son-in-law had recently sold a long-running biological products company and made a lot of money. They bought a big house in this
community. According to her description, I know that their home is only a few minutes walk from my home. She also told me that her husband passed away the year before last, and she has
applied for a low-income senior apartment in the city center and lives alone. Her daughter sometimes picks her up to stay for a few days, so that she can relieve loneliness and help her
daughter with some housework.
That's how we became neighbors.
One afternoon while I was making dinner, I heard the doorbell ring. When I opened the door, I saw her standing at the door with a roll of bills in her hand. She asked me softly and
helplessly, "Can you call a taxi for me?" She told me that her daughter's family was doing something out of the town, and took her over to look after the house. She just now received a call
that the apartment where she lived had to repair the air-conditioning system of the building early the next morning, and she urgently needed to go back and open the door to make room.
Knowing that she hadn't had dinner yet, I let her into the house and said to her, "Well, let's have dinner together here, and then I'll take you there." What we ate that day was fried
green peas with red peppers and pork.
It was a 12-story residential high-rise building, located in a bustling and quiet corner of the city center. From the appearance, it belongs to the buildings of the middle and upper
construction standards. The whole building is occupied by people who meet the low-income conditions, especially the elderly. Because it is managed by professional handymen and service personnel,
everything is well-organized and it is a nice place live.
Her house is on the fourth floor. It was a one-bedroom apartment with a bedroom, living room, kitchen, bathroom, and modern equipment. A friend of mine rented such a set in a similar
area, and the monthly rent is about $3000. "I pay $250 a month, and the utility bills are all free." She probably has heard of the dislike of "everyone takes from the country" among the
American public, and then explained, "I am a retired elementary school teacher in a small county that you don't even know the name of. Until now, my monthly retirement salary is about
5,000 RMB." The calculator in my mind did a quick calculation, 5000/7 = 714, 714/3 = 238. My knowledge tells me that in the United States (at least in California), the low-income threshold
is about $800-$900 per month, and low-income senior apartments generally charge one-third of the occupants' gross income. She is an honest low income person!
She showed me the restaurant, the conference room, the gym, which reminded me of similar facilities in the Google building I visited in New York, no less. She pointed to a 70-year-old
man who was playing table tennis, and whispered to me, "This is a professor at Fudan University of China, with a retirement salary of 10,000 to 20,000 yuan. He still has a car in the garage
downstairs, which he uses twice a week, driving out for fun or going to play golf.” As far as I know, there are certain requirements for owning a car when applying for a low-income apartment
for the elderly. Don't know how he does it. In any case, these people are the "winners" of this society and this era.
At this time, a Chinese old man came over and told her, "I will bring the food you want and put it in my house according to your requirements, come and get it when you get time." She
told me that every Monday, the food truck delivers free food to this building, and at the end he added with a smile, "I often have the kind of green peas that I eat at your house!"
Yes, those two packets of green peas must have something to do with her. I dialed her number.
"I don't know how to repay you for being so kind to me!" She said very sincerely. "Actually, it's also returned to the original owner. It's you taxpayers who support us."
What she said shocked me. I haven't heard any expert or scholar who has benefited from this "dying capitalist society" and is proficient in the way of being a person and governing.
Later, I drove past that park again and stopped to look at the beautiful slope. Several pine trees are still standing tall, but the elderly Chinese people are no longer seen under the trees.
I think they probably all live in the low-income elderly apartments that I have seen or similar, proudly enjoying the superiority of this system.
I know that almost all the middle-class people, including me, who are diligently paying taxes for the superiority of this system, have some complains about the flaws of this superiority.
However, I asked myself again, don't you complain about the inequality in the society of your home country? Complain about the society there are cold-eyes towards the underprivileged? Isn't
fairness one of the reasons why you immigrated from there? The reality of America is the practical operation of each person one vote to decide the fate of himself and his class, despite all the
imperfections there.
(July 2023)