Chapter 15 15. Harold and a Fresh Beginning

After the heavy rain brings a scene of recovery of all things, trees and flowers are vying to burst out with various colors and fragrances: the lush horse chestnut tremblingly holds new tower-shaped flowers; the white ginseng is like a round umbrella Messy roses protrude from the roadside garden; big peonies are in full bloom like origami handicrafts; the flowers on the apple tree begin to fall, and the small fruits hang like pearls on the roadside. The branches; the lively bluebells cover the woodland like rich running water; the dandelion heads are covered with fluffy seeds. For six days Harold walked steadfastly, through Autry, Bourton, Glastonbury, Wells, Radstock, Piston St John, and finally on a Monday morning In Bath, the average was exactly eight miles a day.He took Martina's advice and bought sunscreen, medicated cotton pads, nail clippers, plasters, antiseptic ointment, moleskin blister wrap, and Kendall mint cake, just in case.He also restocked his toiletries, bought a new box of laundry detergent, and packed it neatly into her boyfriend's backpack along with the adhesive tape Martina had given him.Passing by the store and seeing the image reflected on the glass wall, the man looked determined and steady, and it took Harold a few glances to be sure it was really him.The compass in the hand always points steadily to the north.

Harold believed his journey had truly begun.He thought it started the moment he decided to march towards Berwick, only now did he realize how naive he was back then.Some things can have several starting points, and can start in different ways.Sometimes you think you have turned a new leaf, but in fact you may just repeat the previous steps.He confronted and overcame his shortcomings, so now it's finally time to say his journey has truly unveiled. Every morning, the sun rises above the horizon, climbs to its highest point and then sets back, ending the day and making way for the next.Harold spent a long time looking at the sky, watching how the ground in the distance changed under the changing sky.At sunrise, the top of the mountain is golden, and the windows reflecting the morning glow are orange, as if a fire is burning.In the evening, the twilight casts long shadows at the bottom of the trees, turning into another deep forest where darkness gathers.When he walked on the morning dew, he couldn't help smiling when he saw the cable towers standing out in the thin white mist.The mountains softened and flattened, revealing a large expanse of gentle green in front of him.He walked across the vast Somerset wetlands, and saw the silvery stream of water.Glastonbury Tor loomed far on the horizon, and Mendip Hill was out of sight ahead of him.

Slowly, slowly, Harold's leg began to get better.The bruise faded from purple to green to a pale yellow shade, and he finally stopped worrying.If there is any change in his mentality, it is more determined.The journey between Tiburton and Taunton was full of resentment and pain, because he forced his body and took on what he couldn't bear, so walking eventually became a battle with his body, and he had no choice but to lose.He now practices a gentle set of stretches every morning and evening, rests his body every two hours, treats blisters on his feet before they become infected, and brings fresh water to drink.Looking again at his wild plant encyclopedia, he found the names of many flowering shrubs, and learned what they were used for, which ones bore fruit, which were culinary, which were poisonous, and which leaves had medicinal properties.Wild garlic casts a characteristic sweet and spicy aroma in the air.Harold was taken aback again. It turned out that as long as you know what you are looking for, you can often find it from your side.

He still sent Maureen and Queenie postcards telling them of his progress, and he wrote to the gas station girl every once in a while.In that guidebook to Great Britain, Harold marked the shoe museum in Strait and looked at the Clarke village shop, though deep down he still felt like throwing away those sailing shoes after all he'd been through it is wrong.In Wells he bought Queenie a piece of rose quartz to hang in the window, and Maureen a pencil carved from a twig.Although several enthusiastic members of the Women's Association kept recommending Madeira cakes to Harold, he finally chose two hand-woven berets, which happened to be Queenie's favorite brown.He also went to church and sat quietly in the cold light pouring down from the top of the church, thinking of the people who built churches, bridges, and ships centuries ago.Looking back now, why didn't they make such a pioneering work because they were urged by their beliefs?When no one was looking, Harold quietly knelt, prayed for those left behind and those at the end of his journey, and asked God to help him persevere.He also apologized for not having previously formed a belief.

The people I met along the way included white-collar workers, dog walkers, shoppers, children in school, mothers pushing prams, hikers like himself, and several tour groups.He met a tax inspector who hadn't worn shoes for ten years because he was a Druid.There was also a girl who was looking for her biological father, a priest who confessed to him and tweeted* at Mass, a couple of young men training for a marathon, and an Italian with a singing parrot.That afternoon he met a witch from Glastonbury, a drunk who had lost his house, four cyclists looking for the M5, and a mother of six to tell him about life It turned out to be so lonely.Harold walked and listened to the stories of these strangers, without judging anyone.As the days passed, the time and place in his memory began to blur, and he began to lose track of whether the tax inspector really had no shoes on, and whether he had a parrot on his shoulder.But none of that matters.He found that it was the smallness and loneliness of these ordinary people that surprised him and touched his inner tenderness.There are a lot of people in this world who keep putting one foot in front of the other every day. After a long time, life seems ordinary.Harold could no longer deny that every stranger he met along the way was unique but the same. This is the dilemma of life.

He walked so resolutely, as if he had waited his whole life just to get out of the chair, and walk on the road like now. Maureen said on the phone that she had moved out of the guest room and gone back to sleep in the master room.Harold had been sleeping alone for many years, and was a little surprised at the news, but also pleased, as the master bedroom was larger and more comfortable, and, as it was situated at the front of the house, had a view of Kingsbridge's view.But he also took it to mean that Maureen had packed up his things and moved them to the guest room. Harold thought of the past, how many times he had looked at the closed door of the guest room, and knew in his heart that she had completely sealed herself off and would not let him touch her again.Sometimes he would put his hand on the doorknob, as if it were part of her, to feel her again.

Maureen's voice came slowly in the silence: "Recently, I often think of the time when we first met." "What?" "It was at a ball at Woolwich. You touched my neck and said something very funny. We laughed for a long time." Harold frowned, trying to recall the scene.He remembered that there had been a ball, but all he could remember was how touching and beautiful she had been that night.He remembered dancing like a fool and her long black hair falling like velvet down the sides of her face.But he shouldn't have been so bold, walking across the entire ballroom full of people to talk to her?Nor was it likely that he had said something that made her laugh so hard.Harold wondered if Maureen had misremembered and mistook someone else for him.

She said, "Well, it's time for me to get you on your way. I know you must be in a hurry." He used the tone of voice he would speak to a doctor.Every time she wanted to emphasize that she wouldn't bother people, it always did.She finally said, "I wish I remembered what you said that day. It was so funny," and hung up. For the next day, Harold's mind was full of Maureen, and the time when they had just begun their relationship.They traveled together, and Harold had never seen anyone eat so carefully, she would tear the food into small pieces and put them in his mouth.At that time, he had already started to save money for the future of the two of them. He took an extra job as a garbage truck driver in the morning, and a part-time job as a bus conductor after get off work in the evening. Work in the library.Sometimes he was so tired that he would crawl under the bookshelf and sleep for a while.

At that time Maureen liked to take the bus from her house to the terminus.Harold's hands were selling tickets and helping the driver ring the bell, but his eyes were always on Maureen: Maureen in the blue coat; Maureen's skin was as perfect as porcelain; Maureen's eyes were green; Walking to the hospital together, Harold scrubbed the stairs each time, wondering where she had been, and what would she see on the way home?She would slip into the library and flip through the cookbook section while he watched her from the main desk, thinking nothing but love for her and sleep. Their wedding was simple, and many of the guests he didn't know were present, all wearing top hats and gloves.They sent invitations to his father, too, but he didn't come, much to Harold's relief.

When he was finally alone with his new wife, he watched her gently undo her skirt across the room, tormented by the desire to touch her and trembling with nervousness.He took off the tie and coat he had borrowed from an old friend at the bus station and looked up to find that Maureen had already slept on the bed.She is just too beautiful.Harold had to flee into the toilet. "Is it because of me?" Half an hour later, Maureen called from outside the bathroom door.It is a pain to remember these things, when it is too far away for ever to be traced.Harold blinked hard a few times, trying to get rid of the images, but they just kept coming.Through one noisy town after another, along one deserted road after another, Harold began to understand certain past moments as if they had just happened.Sometimes he felt he was out of the present, stuck in memories.The previous scenes reappeared before his eyes again and again, and he became an audience forced to stay, witnessing mistakes, contradictions, and choices that shouldn't be made, but he couldn't change anything.He remembered that two months after Maureen's father died, he suddenly received a phone call and heard the news of her mother's sudden death.He had to hug Maureen hard enough for her to hear the news.

"It's just you and me," Maureen sobbed.He reached out to caress Maureen's growing belly and promised her that everything would be fine.He said he would take care of her.He did think so.His greatest wish is to make Maureen happy. Back then she was still willing to trust him, that Harold could give her everything she wanted.He didn't know it then, but he does now.It was the identity of "father" that became his greatest test and contributed to his failure.Perhaps he will spend the rest of his days in the guest room. Heading north, towards Gloucestershire.Sometimes Harold's steps were so firm, as natural as water, that he didn't have to think how to lift first one foot and then the other.Walking on the road convinced him that Queenie would survive, and his body was rejuvenated by it.In the past few days, he can climb a hill with almost no effort, and he is getting stronger and stronger, Harold thought. On some days, he is more focused on what he sees.He tried to find expressive words to describe each transition, but just like the strangers he met on the road, language sometimes made things more confusing.There are also days when he forgets himself, forgets that he is walking, forgets the ground under his feet, and thinks about nothing, at least not about things that can be expressed in words.He felt the sun on his shoulder, saw the kestrel gliding, lifted his heels off the ground, alternated his weight, and that was all there was to it. Only the night gave him a headache.He continued to look for the most simple and simple hotel, but those hotel rooms seemed to be an obstacle that prevented Harold from reaching his goal, and he felt from the bottom of his heart that his body wanted to sleep on the floor.Curtains, wallpaper, picture frames, matching towels, all seem superfluous and meaningless.He likes to open the window wide to feel the clear night sky and fresh air outside the window. However, his sleep quality is still poor, and he is troubled by images of the past more and more frequently, or dreams that he has risen to a high place and then fell hard.Waking up early in the morning, he looked at the moonlight on the window lattice, feeling trapped.It was barely dawn when he checked out and set off. Walking into dawn, he watched in amazement as the sky changed from blood red to uniform light blue, as if it was a new version of daytime carnival.He couldn't believe he hadn't noticed it all these years. As Harold's journey continued, the question of "how could this plan be accomplished" faded into the background.Queenie must be waiting for him, he was convinced of this in his heart, as sure as seeing his own shadow.He imagined happily that when he finally arrived, Queenie would be sitting in a sunny chair by the bed watching him.They will have a lot to say and a lot to remember.He also remembered the time when she suddenly pulled a Martian stick out of her bag on the way back. "You'll fatten me up," he said. "You? You don't have any flesh on your body!" She replied with a smile.That's the line, a little odd but not at all uncomfortable, and it's changed the way they talk ever since.This sentence shows that she will also pay attention to him and care about him.After that day, she brought him some pastries every day, and began to call each other by first name.It's easy to talk on the road, but as soon as we sit face to face in a small restaurant, the topic disappears and we don't know what to say. "What's the name of the two rascals?" he heard her ask.The two are now back in the car. "what?" "It's a bad joke." "Oh! Good. I can't think of it, what's it called?" "Rogue rabbit." She tightly covered her mouth with her hand, trembling with laughter, and suddenly a loud snort leaked from her fingers, her face turned purple, "My dad likes this so much." Finally Harold had to stop the car, and the two laughed heartily.He told David and Maureen about the sharp turn that night over spaghetti and cheese at home, and they both looked dazed when they solved the mystery.Not only is the joke not funny, but it seems tacky. Harold often talked to Queenie about David.I don't know if she still remembers it now.Queenie had no children, nor nephews or nieces, so she was very concerned about David's situation at Cambridge.How did David find the school, she would ask?Have you made any friends?Do you like rowing?Harold always told her that the boy was a teenage boy, although the truth was that he rarely answered Maureen's letters and phone calls, and never mentioned friends or studies.Of course no rowboat was mentioned. Harold never mentioned to Queenie the empty wine bottles that piled up in the cupboard after the holidays, or the marijuana in the envelope.He didn't tell anyone, not even his wife.He just packs them up and throws them away on the way to work. "You and Maureen must be proud to have such a son, Harold," said Queenie.He thinks back to the time the two of them worked together at the brewery, even though neither of them liked to join in the fun.Did Queenie remember that Irish waitress who claimed to be pregnant with Mr. Nabil's child, who suddenly resigned and disappeared?Some say he arranged for the girl to have the fetus disposed of, and complications arose.Another time, a young sales rep was so drunk that he was stripped down to his underwear and tied to the factory gate. Mr. Nabil joked about letting the dogs bite him, saying it would be fun.The boy screamed in terror as a stream of brown-yellow fluid ran down his thigh. Thinking of all this, Harold felt a nauseating wave of shame.David was right, Nabil was like that, even Queenie had more courage than him. He saw her smiling again, and slowly, it seemed that even the most joyful things were tinged with sadness. He heard her say, "Something happened at the winery, that night." He saw her body shake.Or it was he who was crumbling.He thought he was going to faint, but felt her little hand grabbing his sleeve and shaking it non-stop.She hadn't touched him since the time at the stationery cabinet. She said, "Are you listening? It's a serious matter, Harold, a serious matter." That was the last time he saw her.Harold didn't know why she was taking the blame for him, and he wasn't sure if she knew how much he regretted it.He asked himself again why Queenie didn't even say goodbye.Thinking of all this, he shook his head vigorously and continued walking north. She was fired on the spot.Word of Nabil's atrocity spread throughout the distillery, and there were even rumors that he nearly hit Queenie on the head with an ashtray or that tiny paperweight.Nabil's secretary later told several sales reps that he had never liked the woman and how she stood her ground that day.She didn't hear everything Queenie said because the door was closed, but from Mr. Nabil's yelling, she could deduce what Queenie said, such as: "I really don't understand why you are making such a fuss What to do, I just want to do her a favor!" Someone said to Harold: "If Queenie were a man, Mr. Nabil would definitely beat her until she spit out bile." Harold was sitting in the bar , I felt nauseous, ordered another glass of brandy, and drank it down in one gulp. Tortured by the memory, Harold hunched his shoulders.He's an unforgivable coward, but at least for now, he's doing something real.Bass can already be seen.The crescent moon in the sky is like a hook, and the path on the ground is twists and turns, cutting the hillside piece by piece, and the beige stones glow like burning under the cover of the rising sun.Today will be a very hot day. "Dad! Dad!" He heard a few clear calls and turned around suddenly.The speeding cars brushed the low-hanging leaves, and there was no one but himself.