Chapter 19 19. Harold and the Journey

I have never seen such a beautiful May day.Every day was a clear blue sky, and the gardens were crowded with lupines, roses, delphiniums, honeysuckle, and collards, and insects were circling and hopping.Harold walked past the lawn in full bloom of buttercups, poppies, ox-eye daisies, clover, vetch, and autumn flowers, and the bushes were hung with elderflower cages. Clematis, hops.The small vegetable garden by the side of the road is also a lively scene. Lettuce, spinach, early potatoes, beetroot, sugar lettuce, green peas are neatly arranged, and the newly formed gooseberries hang on the branches like green pea pods.Vegetable growers put surplus vegetables and fruits on the side of the road, and hung a sign saying "Please take whatever you want".

Harold knew he was going in the right direction.He told the stories of Queenie and the gas station girl to strangers he met, asking if they would help.In return, he listens to their hearts.People sometimes gave him a sandwich, sometimes a bottle of water, sometimes a fresh plaster.He never takes as much as he needs, and never asks for more. Occasionally, he politely declines the kindness of others to give him a ride, provide hiking equipment or dry food on the road.He plucked a row of pea pods off the crooked bean stalk and ate them greedily as a snack.The people he has met and the towns he has traveled through are all part of the journey, and he will firmly remember it in his heart wherever he goes.

Harold had slept in the field every day since that night in the barn.He would choose a dry place and be very careful not to mess anything up.He washed in public toilets, fountains, streams, and rinsed his clothes when no one was looking.From time to time, he would think of the half-forgotten world where there are houses, roads, and cars. People have to take a bath every day, eat three meals a day, sleep at night, and accompany each other.He was very happy that the people in that world were safe and sound, and he was also glad that he jumped out of that world. Harold walked through the streets and alleys, and also through the mountain paths.The compass Zhan Weiwei pointed to the north, and he walked in the direction of the pointer without hesitation.Whether you hit the road day or night, do whatever you want, one mile and one more.When the blisters on his feet were really painful, he wrapped them with duct tape.Go to sleep when you are tired, wake up and continue.Sometimes he marches with rush-hour traffic in the dawn light, sometimes he treads starlight under a brow-like crescent moon where tree trunks glow white as bones.The violent wind and rain could not stop his footsteps, and he continued to move forward under the scorching sun.It seems that he has waited all his life just to take this trip, and he no longer cares how far he has traveled, as long as he is still moving forward.Pale Cotswold stone has been replaced by Warwickshire red brick, and the plains of central England are already underfoot.Harold inadvertently brushed the edge of his mouth, and found that he had grown a thick beard.Queenie would survive, he knew she would.

The strangest thing is that any driver passing by him will only see an old man in a shirt and tie, and maybe notice that he is wearing sailing shoes, and then he will roar away like all passers-by. go.It was so much fun that he couldn't help being happy, for himself and for the dirt beneath his feet.For this simplicity, he can laugh and laugh. From Stratford he made his way to Warwick.In Bagington, south of Coventry, Harold met a very easy-going young man with mild blue eyes and sideburns that fell below the cheekbones.He told Harold his name was Mick and bought him a glass of lemonade.For his courage, the young man toasted Harold with a glass of wine: "Did you come all the way by the kindness of strangers?" he asked.

Harold smiled: "No, I am also very careful. I don't hang around in the city center after dark and don't cause any trouble. Most of the time, the people who stop and listen are the ones who are willing to help I was scared once or twice, on the A349 national road I thought there was a man trying to rob me, but in fact he just wanted to give me a hug. His wife also died of cancer. Because he has no front teeth, I misunderstood Kill him." He saw his fingers holding the lemonade and saw that they were blackened, the nails slightly cracked and brown. "You really believe with all your heart that you can walk to Berwick?"

"I'm not anxious, but I'm not procrastinating either. Just take one step at a time and you'll get there. I've begun to feel that we've done too much in the past," he smiled, "otherwise why do we have these two legs? Woolen cloth?" The young man licked his lips, as if savoring what he hadn't put in his mouth: "What you're doing is a 21st century pilgrimage. Great, your story is the one people want to hear." "Do you think it's convenient to have another pack of salt and vinegar chips?" Harold asked, "I haven't eaten since noon." Before the two broke up, Mick asked Harold if he could let him use Take a picture of him with your phone. "Just as a souvenir." In order not to let the flash affect the locals who were playing darts next to him, he said, "Can you please move outside?"

He had Harold stand under a Wolverhampton sign pointing northwest. "That's not where I'm going," said Harold.But Mick said such minutiae didn't matter, and besides, it was dark. "Look at me like you're exhausted," Mick said.Harold found it all too easy. Bedworth, Nuneaton, Twycross, Ashby of Jush.East through Warwickshire and Leicestershire to Derbyshire and beyond.Some days he could cover more than thirteen miles, and other days he could cover less than six miles because of the twists and turns of the road.The sky was blue, black, and blue again.The rolling hills gently undulate between the industrial towns.

At Ticknor, Harold was surprised to see two hikers staring at him intently.South of Derby, a passing taxi driver gave Harold the thumbs-up, and a busker in a purple clown hat stopped in front of him to play the accordion and grin at him.In Little Chester, a blonde girl gave him a box of juice and gave him a hug.Another day, in Ripley, a group of Morris dancers saw him, put down their beers and cheered him on. Alfredton, Creekros, the slightly curved silhouette of the spire of Chesterfield Church told him he had entered Peak District.One morning at the takeaway coffee shop in Dronfield, a man gave Harold his willow cane and squeezed his shoulder.

Seven miles further on, a shopgirl in Sheffield slipped her mobile phone into Harold's hand and asked him to call home.Maureen said she was fine, although the shower in the bathroom leaked a bit.She asked Harold if he watched the news. "No. Maureen, I haven't even read the newspaper since the day I left. What's the matter?" He wasn't sure, but it sounded like he heard a soft sob.She said, "You're in the news, Harold. You and Queenie Hennessy. It's all about you."