Chapter 28 a never-before-seen reality

the second part a never-before-seen reality In the cramped, dark reception room of Henry Cameron's office stood a desk with a telephone and a typewriter.A gray-haired, bony man sat at the desk, wearing a short-sleeved shirt and trousers with suspenders hanging loosely over his shoulders.He was typing a list of items intently, his fingers moving with surprising speed.A light bulb cast a faint yellow halo across his back, illuminating the sweat-soaked shirt on his shoulder blades. The man looked up slowly as Locke walked in.He looked at Locke without saying a word, waiting for Locke to speak, his old eyes, dim and tired, had neither doubt nor interest in the visitor.

"I want to see Mr. Cameron," said Locke. "Is that so?" said the man, without provocation, offense or any other intent in his tone, "what do you want from him?" "look for a job." "What job?" "The job of a cartographer." The man sat with a dazed expression on his face.It was an interrogation he hadn't faced in a long time.At last he rose, and silently shuffled toward a door behind him, and entered. He did not close the door all the way when he entered.Locke could hear him drawling, "Mr. Cameron, there's a chap out there saying he's here looking for a job."

Then I heard a voice answering, the voice sounded thick and powerful, and the age could not be judged from the tone. "What! Idiot! Throw him out . . . wait! Tell him in!" The old man came out without closing the door. He raised his head silently and signaled Locke to go in.Locke walked in and closed the door behind him. It was a long, empty office, undecorated.At the desk at the far end of the room sat Henry Cameron.He leaned forward, folded his hands, and rested his arms on the desk.This person has black hair, a beard on his chin, and thick silver strands intermingled between his beard and hair. The muscles on his short and thick neck are knotted like a knotted rope.He was wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His exposed skin was dark and rough, with strong muscles.His face was very large, with rigid facial muscles that seemed to have aged from depression, and his dark eyes were bright and full of life.

Locke stood on the threshold, and they looked at each other across the long office.A gloomy light came in through the window from the aviation commemorative sign on the opposite side, illuminating the dusty design table and a few green file folders, fluffy, as if they were crystals precipitated by that beam of light.But, Locke saw, on the wall between the two windows, hung a picture.It was the only thing in the house—the blueprints for a skyscraper that was never built. Locke's gaze moved away from Cameron first, and landed on the design drawing.He walked over from one end of the office, stopped in front of it, and looked carefully.Cameron's gaze followed him closely like a searchlight, that sophisticated gaze was like a thin and long needle, with one end firmly fixed, slowly tracing a circle, its sharp edge piercing through the Locke's body, pinning him firmly.Henry Cameron looked at his orange-red hair and the hand hanging at his side.The palm of this hand is facing the drawing, and the fingers are slightly bent. It is not a gesture, but it seems to ask for something and grab something.

"What!" Cameron finally said, "Are you here to see me, or to see a painting?" Locke turned to him. "It serves both purposes." He walked to Cameron's desk.In the past, people often felt at a loss in front of Locke.But Henry Cameron experienced a reality he had never felt before when he became aware of the eyes looking at him. "What do you want?" Cameron asked loudly. "I want to work for you," Locke said quietly.It clearly said "I want to work for you", but the voice sounded like "I want to work with you." "Really?" Cameron said, not realizing the unspoken meaning in his tone. "What's the matter? A company bigger and better than ours wouldn't want you?"

"I haven't applied to any other companies." "Why not? Do you think my place is the easiest place to start? Anyone can just come here? Do you know who I am?" "Yes. That's why I'm here." "Who sent you here?" "Nobody called me." "Then why are you targeting me?" "I think you are clear." "Damn disrespectful bastard who thinks I'm going to want you? Do you think I'm so hard-pressed that I'm going to open the door to welcome some ignorant punk kid who's willing to honor me? You've been Thinking it over: 'Old Cameron is an old-fashioned drunk...' Go ahead, you've already said that in your heart!...Come on, go on, answer me! Answer me, you damn What are you staring at me? Is that what you think? Say it! Deny it!"

"It's not necessary." "Where did you work before?" "I'm just getting started." "What have you done?" "I did three years of college at Stanton Tech." "Oh? This gentleman is so lazy that he can't even wait for graduation?" "I've been fired."