On September 15, 1981, a boy named Jack Sawyer stopped at the beach where the waves meet the land, put his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and looked at the calm Atlantic Ocean.Jack was only twelve years old and already taller than boys his age.The sea breeze passed over his delicate forehead, brushing away the brown hair that might have grown too long.
He stands, feeling the confusion and anguish that has accumulated for months—three months ago, when his mother locked the door of their home on Rodeo Drive in Los Angeles, he was caught in a small storm, passing through a flurry of furniture, checks, A whirlwind of real estate agents then rents an apartment on New York City's Central Park West side.
Soon, he took him to fly here again, a quiet resort town on the coast of New Hampshire.Law and order have disappeared from Jack's world, and his life is like the rushing waves before him, ever-changing and uncontrollable.It was his mother who took him all over the place and kept migrating. However, what force drove his mother?
His mother kept running, running, running, running.He looked around the empty beach, and to his left was the Arcadia amusement park, which was always buzzing from Memorial Day to Labor Day.At this time, the amusement park is empty, like a heart that is temporarily still between two heartbeats.The tracks of the roller coaster cut across the flat, overcast sky, and the straight, angular legs looked like long-extinguished dark gray coals.
Jack made a new friend at the amusement park, called Speedy Parker, but he couldn't spare his mind to think about this new friend at the moment.On the right is the Alhambra Garden Hotel, which is where Jack's mind is entangled.For a moment, the day they arrived at the hotel, Jack thought he would see a rainbow hanging above the polygonal roof, like a symbol of some sort, promising a better life.However, the rainbow is just an illusion where the Tao does not exist, and there is only a weathercock on the roof, which is blown from side to side by the wind.He had stepped out of the rental car, ignoring his mother's expectations that he would unload the luggage with his own hands, just looking up.Above the head of the spinning metal rooster, a blank sky stretched in vain.
"Open the trunk and get all your luggage out, sweetie," his mother yelled at him. "I want to get something to drink in a restaurant, my feeble old star."
"Have a martini." Jack said.
"What you should answer is: 'You're not old'." She climbed out of the car seat with difficulty.
"You're not old yet."
She beams at Jack—a glimmer of light in the dying Lily Cavanaugh (Sawyer), a B-movie diva of nearly two decades.She stretched.
"It'll be all right here, Jack," she said. "Everything's going to be all right. It's a nice place."
A seagull glides over the hotel, and for a moment Jack has the illusion that the bluebells on the roof are flying.
"You won't have those annoying calls when you get here, don't you think?"
"Of course." Jack replied.Mother wanted to stay away from Uncle Morgan, and she didn't want to argue with her deceased husband's business partner anymore. She just wanted to hold a glass of martini, get under the covers, and cover her head with a quilt...
Mom, what's wrong with you?
The smell of death is too strong, half the world is made of death.Overhead the seagulls were screaming mournfully.
"Come on, boy, come on," the mother urged Jack. "Let's get into this comfortable place."
At that time, Jack thought to himself: No matter how bad the situation is, at least we have Uncle Tommy to support us.
But Uncle Tommy was dead; it was just that the news had not yet reached them at the other end of the tangle of telephone lines.
The Alhambra Hotel juts out from the sea, a monolithic stack of Victorian buildings on the edge of a low granite headland that blends seamlessly into one another like a prominent collarbone on the few miles of New Hampshire coastline.At this moment, Jack was standing by the sea. From his angle, he could hardly see the orderly garden on the side of the hotel facing the land. All he could see was a black wall of trees.The hyacinth is pointing to the northwest against the sky.A sign in the lobby of the hotel states that in 1838, the Northern Methodist Church held New England's first joint abolition of slavery here.Daniel Webster gave a powerful, rousing speech.The text of the sign quoted a passage of what Webster said at the time: "From now on, throughout the states of the United States, slavery as a custom in the United States will gradually decline, and will quickly disappear from the territory of the United States."
Anyway, that day last week, they settled down here and put an end to their short and chaotic life in New York.The lawyer on Arcadia Beach who was not employed by Morgan Sloat suddenly jumped out of the car, waved a bunch of papers for Lily to sign, and told her that this must be done, Mrs. Sawyer.The phone here doesn't keep ringing from noon until three o'clock in the middle of the night (Uncle Morgan seems to have forgotten that there is a time difference between New York's Central Park and California).In fact, the phone never rings here in Arcadia Beach.
As his mother drove into the resort town with eyes squinted and concentrated, Jack saw only one person along the way—an old man staggering along the sidewalk, pushing an empty shopping cart.They also have a desolate gray sky above their heads, a sky that makes people unhappy.Unlike New York, here there is only the continuous whistling of the wind, rolling into the empty streets; there are few vehicles and pedestrians on the roads, so it seems too wide.Signs hung on the doors of empty shops stating "Open on weekends" or, worse, simply saying "See you in June!".On the road in front of the Alhambra Hotel, there are hundreds of empty parking spaces, and the Arcadia Jam and Tea Shop next door is also empty.
There is also a sloppy old man pushing a shopping cart and walking on the deserted street.
"I've had the happiest three weeks of my life in this lovely little place," Lily told Jack as the car passed the old man (Jack saw him turn around and stared at them suspiciously, Muttering words, but it is not obvious what he is muttering), then turned a corner, walked through the front garden, and came to the entrance of the hotel.
For this reason, the mother and son stuffed all the essential things in life into suitcases, handbags and plastic bags, and locked the door of the apartment (completely ignoring the screaming phone ringing in the house, which is the most important thing in the house). The ringing bell seemed to come out of the keyhole, chasing them all the way downstairs); for this reason, they piled the nearly full boxes and plastic bags in the backseat and trunk of the rental car, It's been a long, dusty drive on Interstate 95 to get here -- just because Lily Kavanaugh Sawyer had a good time here.
In 1968, a year before Jack was born, Lily was nominated for an Oscar for Best Supporting Actress for this film. She got rid of her past bad girl image and really showed her acting talent.No one expected Lily to win this award, and Lily herself never thought about it; yet for her, the cliche of "it's a great honor to be nominated" comes from the bottom of her heart Words—she was truly honored for this moment.To celebrate the first professional recognition of her acting career, Phil Sawyer wisely took her across the United States, to the other side of the country, for a three-week vacation at the Alhambra Garden Hotel.Lying in a hotel bed, sipping champagne, they watched the Oscars on TV (if Jack was older and happened to be interested in the event, he might have extrapolated and found Alamb La Restaurant is the place where his little life was first conceived).
When it came time to hand out the Best Supporting Actress award, Lily yelled at Phil: "If I win the statuette and I'm not there, I'll carve a statuette out of your chest with my high heels. "
However, when the award presenter announced that the winner was Ruth Gordon, Lily said again: "It should be hers, she is a good girl." Then immediately poked her husband's chest with her finger and said, "You better get one too." Play that role for me, you big manager."
But there is no such opportunity anymore.Two years after Phil's death, Lily landed her last acting role in "Speed Drive," as a bitter-talking retired prostitute.
Jack knew in his heart that now Lily was here to commemorate that good time.He began to drag the luggage out of the back seat and trunk one by one, tore a D'Agostino supermarket paper bag, the brand name on the bag was torn in two, and the result was a pile of rolled up socks, a Stacks of photos that didn't make it into albums, chess pieces and boards, and comic books strewn about in the trunk.It took Jack a while to force most of the stuff into the other bags.Lily walked slowly up the hotel stairs, struggling to hold on to the railing, showing an old look.
"I'm going to call the waiter to help." She said without looking back.
Jack straightened up under his bulging duffel bags and looked up again at the sky, where he was sure he had seen a rainbow.But there is no rainbow, there is just an uncomfortable, shifting sky.
At this time: "Come to me." A faint voice sounded behind him, although the voice was small, it was clearly audible.
"What?" He turned his head, but all that lay before him was the deserted garden and driveway.
"What's the matter?" his mother asked.Leaning against the hotel's tall, thick wooden doors, she looked old.
"It's okay, I probably heard wrong." He said.No one called him behind his back, and there was no rainbow in the sky.Looking at his mother who was struggling with the heavy door, Jack put the sound and the rainbow behind him.
"Wait a minute, I'll go up and help," he yelled, grabbing the huge suitcase and the paper bag that was almost torn by the sweater, and staggered up the steps quickly.
Before he met Speedy Parker, Jack lived in the hotel like a sleeping wild dog, letting time slip by.These days his life was like a dream, a world of shadows and unspeakable shifts.Not even the night before, when the news of Uncle Tommy's death had come through the phone, hadn't woken him up.If Jack believes in supernatural powers, then he may think that some mysterious force has taken over him and is manipulating his life and his mother's life.Jack, Sawyer was twelve years old, and all a boy his age needed was something to let off steam.After experiencing the hustle and bustle of Manhattan, the quiet and passive life in this place seemed to make him gradually disintegrate and become more and more confused.
Jack had found himself standing on the beach, but had no memory of how he had gotten there, had no idea what he was doing there.He guessed he was mourning Uncle Tommy's death, but it actually felt like his head had gone to sleep and his body was letting itself go.He also had trouble concentrating while watching a comedy show on TV with Lily in the evening.The plot in the picture seemed to be fleeting, and he didn't even have time to understand it, let alone remember the turning point of the story.
"Running here and there for a while, you must be exhausted." Mother said.She took a long drag on her cigarette and squinted at him through the clouds.
"The only thing you should do is relax for a while, Jack. It's a nice place, enjoy it while we're still here."
The TV screen in front of them was a bit reddish, and Bob Newhar on it was pointing stupidly at a shoe in his right hand.
"Just like me, Jack," his mother smiled at him. "Relax and enjoy yourself."
Jack glanced at his watch.The two of them, mother and son, had been sitting in front of the TV for two hours, but he couldn't remember a single bit of what was shown on TV.
He stood up and was about to go back to bed when the phone rang.The family's family friend, Uncle Morgan Sloat, finally caught up.Calls from Uncle Morgan were never good news, but this time it was clearly the bad news of the bad news.Jack stood in the middle of the room, watching his mother grow paler and paler.She put one hand around her neck and pressed it gently; in the past few months, some new wrinkles have appeared on it.
From the beginning to the end of the phone call, Lily barely responded to a single word, until the end, she said softly: "Thank you, Morgan." Then she hung up the phone and turned to face Jack.For the first time Jack thought she looked so old and frail.
"Jack, you have to be stronger in the future, understand?"
But he can't feel what it means to be strong.She took his hand and hugged him into her arms.
"This afternoon, Uncle Tommy was hit by a car and unfortunately passed away."
He took a deep breath, feeling that the air in his body was sucked dry.
"He was on Racinaga Boulevard and was about to cross the road when a pickup truck hit him and ran away. Witnesses said the car that hit him was black with 'Wild Child' painted on it. One word, but... there is no other clue."
After Lily finished speaking, she began to cry, and it took a long while for Jack to cry along with him as if he had suddenly come to his senses.All this happened only three days ago, but in Jack's heart, it was as permanent as forever.
On September 15, 1981, a boy named Jack Sawyer stood on an unknown beach, gazing at the calm sea, and the hotel behind him was like a castle in Scott's novel.He wanted to cry but had no tears, he just felt that his whole body was surrounded by death.Death makes up half of this world, and there is no rainbow in the sky.Uncle Tommy's life was taken away by the pickup truck called Wild Child.It happened in Los Angeles, so far from the East Coast that even Jack, a twelve-year-old boy, could understand that Uncle Tommy didn't belong there; How could a man who put on a tie before going out have anything to do with West Bank.
Father was dead, Uncle Tommy was dead, and mother might be dying.Here, on the beach in Arcadia, Jack felt death too.Death came to Uncle Morgan's ears along the telephone line through Uncle Morgan's voice.Instead of the shallow, crude despondency of an off-season inn, where people cling to the lost summer exuberance; death seems to be in the texture of everything, like a scent on the sea breeze.He was so scared... This feeling of fear had been haunting him for a long time.Being in this place, a place so quiet, only made it all the more clear to him—perhaps starting in New York, along Interstate 95, staring through the cigarette smoke, asking Jack to find something on the radio. Jazz Bobble, it was none other than Death who drove them all the way here.
He vaguely remembered that his father had said that he had a mature head, but now he didn't think so at all.At this moment, he only feels that he is so tender, I am afraid of death, he thinks so.I'm so fucking scared.The end of the world is coming, isn't it?
Seagulls overhead cursed the gray sky, and the silence was as dark as the air—lifeless, like the darkening circles under my mother's eyes.
Jack had no idea how much time he'd been wasting away before he wandered off into the amusement park and met Lester Speedy Parker.After meeting him, his immobilized negative mentality suddenly and inexplicably disappeared.Speedy Parker was a black man with curly white hair and deeply lined cheeks.Although he was once a wandering blues player, I don't know what he did in the early years, but now he seems to be just an ordinary old man, and the words he speaks are nothing out of the ordinary.However, when Jack walked aimlessly into the corridor of the playground and met Speedy Parker's pale eyes, the fog in his heart disappeared.He changed back to his original self, as if a magical electric current had been released from the old man and flowed directly into Jack's body.At that time, Parker put a smile on his face and said to Jack: "It seems that I have found a companion for myself. There is a little tramp coming."
Really, his heart will no longer be restless.One minute, it felt as if he was still trapped in the wet balls of wool and marshmallows, but this moment, he was free.In an instant, the old gentleman's whole body seemed to be bursting with silver light, but Jack blinked, and the halo disappeared without a trace.Only then did he notice that the old man was holding a big broom in his hand.
"Are you okay, child?" The old man who was doing rough work put one hand on his thin waist and stretched his back.
"Is the world getting worse, or better?"
"Well, it's better," Jack replied.
"Then you've come to the right place. What do people call you?"
Little Tramp, that's what Speedy called him from the first time we met, Little Tramp Jack.Spidey was leaning scrawny on the boules machine, wrapping his arms around the handle of a broom as if he were hugging a party partner.Now here's Lester Speedy Parker, he's been around too, boy, hee hee - oh yes, Speedy knows the way, where the good old days are He's been there.He played in a band too, Little Tramp Jack, and Speedy played some blues and recorded a few records, but Parker wouldn't be so ungrateful as to ask you if you little guy ever heard those records.Speedy's tone of voice falters, each word strikes a rhythmic rhythm; the fact that he holds a broom rather than a guitar doesn't detract from his musicianship in the least.Within five seconds of talking to Speedy, Jack already knew that his jazz-loving father would love the company of the old man.
Jack hung around Speedy's ass for days, watching him work and helping out when he could.Speedy had him help drive a few nails and sand down some stakes that needed repainting.These simple tasks were done under Speedy's guidance, and it was the only thing he learned since he came here, but at least it made him feel better.Now, Jack sees his first days at Arcadia Beach as a miserable time when no one knows, and this new friend rescues him from the mud.Speedy Parker was a true friend, no doubt about it—but how he could be so sure was a bit of a mystery.Ever since Jack got rid of his confusion (or, rather, since Speedy cast his pale eye out of Jack's mind), Speedy Parker had been his closest friend, his only one. The exception, presumably, was Richard Sloat, whom Jack had known since infancy.At this moment, what Jack felt was that Speedy Parker's warm and wise power strongly attracted him, soothing his fear of Uncle Tommy's death and his mother's imminent death.
There it was again, that uncomfortable feeling.Jack felt that he was dominated and manipulated by some kind of force; it seemed that there was an invisible rope that dragged him and his mother all the way to this desolate seaside town.
It was they who wanted him here, whoever they were.
Was this just a moment of his insanity?The image came back to Jack's mind, and Jack saw an old man with a stooped back and a lunatic appearance, pushing an empty shopping cart, talking to himself on the sidewalk.
The seagulls circling the sky screamed, and Jack secretly made up his mind that he must force himself to tell Speedy Parker the feelings hidden in his heart.Even if Parker thinks his head is broken, even if Parker laughs at him because of it, he still has to say it.But Jack just knew that Parker would never laugh at him.Their friendship was deep enough, and there was one more thing Jack knew, that was, there was nothing he couldn't say in front of this old gentleman.He just wasn't ready yet.After all, it was all so crazy that even he himself couldn't figure it out.Almost reluctantly, Jack turned his head away from the playground, trudged across the beach, and walked back in the direction of the hotel.
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