Chapter 20 Chapter Nineteen

Dr. Saunders had some very bad habits, such as smoking opium.In other parts of the world, he would have been punished as a crime, but fortunately, even so, he was able to wake up in the morning with a clear mind and a happy mood.He seldom stretched out and lay lazily on the bed. He was always willing to drink a cup of fragrant Chinese tea and smoke the first cigarette in the morning.He doesn't look forward to the day ahead with glee.In hotels in the Dutch East Indies, breakfast was served early and always the same: papaya, fried eggs, cold meat, and pomegranate cheese.But no matter how you eat on time, eggs will always be cold.They are like a pair of big orange eyes on the surface of a thin white plate, staring straight at you, as if they have been plucked from the face of some obscene monster in the abyss.Coffee is the essence of breakfast. You can add a little Nescafe condensed milk and pour it into hot water to adjust it to an appropriate concentration.The toast was dry, undercooked in places and burnt in others.In the dining room of the Kanda Hotel, this breakfast was served every day, and the silent Dutch always stuffed it hastily before rushing to the office.

But Dr. Saunders wasn't up early the next morning.After he got up, Akai delivered his breakfast to the veranda outside.He loves papayas, and he loves the way eggs look when they come out of the frying pan.He sipped the tea happily.How wonderful it is to be alive!At this moment, he has nothing else to ask for, doesn't envy anyone, and doesn't have any regrets.The fresh breath of the morning is still there, and the faint sunlight outlines the clear outline of everything.Below the terrace grew a tall, leafy banana tree, proudly showing off its gorgeous foliage to the scorching sun.Dr. Sanders couldn't help thinking.He believes that the value of life does not lie in brilliance, but in whether one can calm one's mind apart from brilliance, so that one's soul will not be disturbed by the world of mortals, and one can transcend oneself like a meditating Buddha.The doctor sprinkled the omelette with lots of pepper and salt and some Worcestershire sauce.This is followed by a small slice of bread dipped in butter—the tastiest bite of the whole breakfast.At this time, Fred Blake and Eric Christensen walked briskly from the street, they walked up the steps in three steps at a time, sat down beside the doctor, and couldn't wait to call the hotel manager. small workers.They had climbed the volcano before dawn, and they were starving now.The little hotel boy brought them papayas and a plate of frozen meat, and they devoured the plate before the fried eggs arrived.The two of them were in high spirits, and their youthful enthusiasm made the two they just met yesterday become good friends. Eric called him Fred affectionately, and Fred also called him Eric affectionately.Climbing the volcano is not easy, and the strenuous exercise excites the two young men.They talked nonsense and laughed inexplicably, like two big boys.The doctor had never seen Fred so cheerful. Obviously, he liked Eric very much, and because of this slightly older partner beside him, he let go of his restraint, as if he had returned to his youth, full of vitality.He looked so young that it was hard to believe he was an adult.His voice was deep and loud, and it sounded so funny that it made people laugh.

"You know, this guy is as strong as a cow!" Fred said, and gave Eric a look of admiration, "There is a section of the mountain road that is very dangerous. I must have fallen so badly, broken a leg or something, that Eric just grabbed me with one hand and pulled me up and helped me back on my feet, God knows how he did it! You know, I'm one hundred and fifty-four pounds!" "I've always been strong," Eric said with a smile. "Let's wrestle the arms!" Fred and Eric put their elbows on the table together, and then held each other's palms.With all his strength, Fred tried to knock Eric's arm down, but Eric didn't budge.At this time, the corner of the Dane's mouth slightly raised, and at the same time exerted force on his hand, and Fred's arm fell down little by little.

"Compared to you, I look like a child." Fred said with a smile. "God, if you throw a punch, the guy who gets hit is in danger. Have you ever fought before?" "No, why fight?" Eric finished what was left on his plate and lit a chegar. "I've got to go to work," he said. "Fries wants to ask you if you want to come to him this afternoon, and he wants to have dinner with you." "I'm fine," said the doctor. "Ask the captain to come along. I'll pick you up at about four o'clock." Fred watched him leave. "What a perfect chap," he said, turning to the doctor, with a smile on his lips. "I don't think he's quite normal."

"Oh? How do you say that?" "What he said was strange." "What did he say?" "I don't know, it's just crazy anyway. He was talking to me about Shakespeare, which I don't know much about, and I told him I took Henry V one term when I was at school, and he started He recited his lines at length. Then came Hamlet and Othello, God knows what! He memorized every scene in it, and I can't repeat him line by line to you. I never No one said that. But the funny thing is, I don't want him to shut up, despite all the bullshit he's saying."

There was a lingering smile in his frank blue eyes, but the expression on his face was serious. "Have you ever been to Sydney?" "No." "We have a decent-sized literary and art group there. Although it has nothing to do with my line of work, I can't help going to see it sometimes. You know, it's mostly women, and they like to talk about books, but you still Without knowing where they are, they can't wait to sleep with you." "A person who is ignorant of literature and art will not behave properly. He will not put a dot on the 'i' or a cross on the 't'. This is almost certain." The doctor thought for a while and said, "He If you see a nail, you bang your head on it."

"It seems you don't like them very much. However, I don't know how to say it. When Eric talks, it feels very different. He is not showing off, nor is it to impress me. I don't care if I'm bored or not. He's obsessed with it, and probably never gets stumped by it. Damn, I don't give a shit about that, I don't understand half of what he says, but it's weird, dunno Why do I always think what he said is very interesting, you understand what I mean?" Fred said, as if laying aside one after another the stones dug out of the ground when digging holes in the garden for planting.He was so confused that he kept scratching his scalp.Dr. Saunders watched him calmly and sharply.He was momentarily at a loss for words.It is a very interesting thing for the doctor to discover what he is trying to express through the chaotic words.Critics divide writers into two classes, those who have something to say but don't know how to say it, and those who know how to say it but can't say anything worthwhile.The same is true of men, and of the Anglo-Saxons, for whom speaking is a laborious business.When a man speaks fluently, it can only be said that he has spoken these words very proficiently, thus losing the original meaning.And when a man is struggling to think of sentences, trying to express his clueless thoughts, his words are the most important.

Fred gave the doctor a mischievous look, like a naughty child. "You know, he lent me Othello. I don't know why I say it's okay to read. I guess you've seen it." "Thirty years ago." "Of course, I could have had a big moment, but when Eric said it with such passion, it sounded very emotional. I don't know how to put it, it's not the same when you're with someone like that. I know he's crazy, but I wish there were more people like him." "You like him a lot, don't you?" "It's hard to like it or not," said Fred, with a flash of embarrassment on his face. "He has the integrity of a steel mould, and I have absolute confidence in him. He will not deceive anyone. But strangely, although he He's a big, hulking guy, as big as a bull, and I have this idea of ​​looking after him. I know it's stupid, but I can't stop thinking, I can't leave him alone, I have to watch him He's in trouble."

The doctor, who stayed out of everything with a suspicious attitude, was silently pondering the meaning implied in the Australian's clumsy words.He was amazed, and slightly moved by the emotion that made Fred search his guts shyly and awkwardly.There was a shock in Fred's not-so-new statement, and he was shocked that he had adored the Danes because he had faced the shocking truth.The tall and ugly Dane behaved strangely, but he ignited all his sincerity, turned that almost extravagant enthusiasm into charm, and realized his idealism, and it was in such a soul that a warm, All-encompassing, pure flame of goodness.Young Fred saw this, fascinated and bewildered.His heart was touched by this, and shyness swept over him.His self-confidence was shaken, and humbleness was born deep in his heart.At that moment, this ordinary and handsome boy experienced a kind of spiritual beauty that he had never imagined.

"How could he be in trouble?" said the doctor. Compared with Fred, the doctor's feelings for Eric Christensen are much indifferent.He's interested in Eric only because he's a little different.First of all, it is very interesting to meet a businessman in the Malay Archipelago who is familiar with Shakespeare and can recite large passages fluently.In the eyes of doctors, this is nothing more than an arty attainment.When he was bored, he wondered if Eric was a good businessman.He doesn't like idealists, because it's very difficult to reconcile one's professional aspirations with real life in such an ordinary world, and they are always keen to confuse lofty ideals with profit, It was very embarrassing.Here, doctors always have something to do.Those idealists always tend to despise those who are practical, but they are not opposed to making a fortune through diligence.They are like wild lilies, who neither do drudgery nor spin and weave, but think that others should do these chores for them, and regard it as their right.

"What kind of man is Frith to visit this afternoon?" asked the doctor. "A planter. He grows nutmeg and cloves, is a widower, and now lives with his daughter."