Chapter 22 22. Harold and the Pilgrims

On the forty-seventh day, Harold's team was joined by a middle-aged woman and father of two.Kate said that she was suffering because she could not find the meaning of life.Dressed in black, she was short, walked very quickly, and always had a slightly raised chin, as if trying to see the world clearly from under the wide brim of her hat.The tips of her thin hair were condensed with sweat, and as soon as she raised her hand, she could see the half-moon-shaped sweat stains under her sleeves. "She's so fat," said Wilf. "You shouldn't say that about her." "But she's just fat."

The man called himself Rich, short for Richard, and his surname was Lyon.He used to be a man in the financial world, retired in his early forties, and has been doing nothing since.Harold's story stirred a hope in him that he hadn't felt since his marriage, and he packed up a few necessities and headed out.Rich was tall, and like Harold, he spoke nasally and confidently.He was wearing professional hiking boots, camouflage and a kangaroo fur hat he bought online.There is also a tent, a sleeping bag, and a Swiss Army knife for emergency use. "Honestly," he confessed, "I screwed up everything. I was fired. I lost my house. My wife left me. I took the kids with me." He stabbed the ground with a knife." My son, Harold. Miss them so much. Want them to be proud of me. Have you ever thought about crossing borders?"

A group of people were walking on the road to Leeds and disagreed on the route.Rich wanted to bypass the city and cross the wasteland.Kate wants to go along the A61 national road.Wilf would stop and take a rest.Harold listened to the quarrel of his traveling companions, grateful and amused, but also slightly uncomfortable.He has been walking alone for so long, and suddenly he has so many companions, which is actually quite tiring.Besides, he had to get to Queenie as soon as possible.But since they chose to go with him and support his plan, he felt that he should be responsible for this small team, as if he had invited them to join him on his own initiative, and he must listen to their request and ensure their safe journey.Rich thought they were going too slowly, while Kate insisted on a combination of relaxation and work.Wilf walked beside Harold sullenly, his hands in his pockets, complaining about his fatigue.Harold found the feeling with David again, wishing he could appear more friendly, worried that his inner unease would be misinterpreted by him as arrogance.It took more than an hour to find a place where everyone was willing to spend the night.

Within two days, Rich and Kate had a falling out.Not because of anything she said, he told Harold; but because of the way she behaved, acting as if she was superior, even though she had arrived thirty minutes before him. "And you know?" Rich almost shouted, Harold said he didn't know, just feeling very tired, "She came here by car!" Arriving in Harrogate, Kate suggested that everyone go to the Royal Bath to freshen up; Qi smiled contemptuously, but admitted that his pocket knife was almost due for a new blade.Harold didn't want to do anything, just sat and waited in the municipal garden, and met a few passers-by who wished him good luck.Wilf simply seemed to disappear.

By the time everyone returns, the line has one more member, a young man who just lost his wife to cancer.The lad said he wanted to bring more attention to the disease that afflicted Queenie and his wife, so he donned a gorilla costume.Harold hadn't had time to say no when Wilf appeared, stumbling, but slowly enough. "God can't stand it," Rich said. They walk very slowly.The orangutan man can only eat through a straw, and the prop suit is extremely stuffy, which makes him feel sad and collapse every once in a while.After half a mile, everyone stopped for the night. Harold lit the bonfire, comforting himself that it took several days to find the rhythm.They had all come to him and wanted to help Queenie, and it would be rude to leave them now.He even thought that Queenie's chances of surviving might be better in this way: the more people walk together, the greater the faith.

Since then, people have been joining in.Some people only come for one day, or two days.When the weather is good, they will be a mighty crowd.Some people are passionate about social movements, some just go out on a whim, some are the whole family, some are dropouts, some are tourists, and there are musicians.They put up flags, lighted bonfires, debated, warmed up, and listened to music.The more people there are, the slower the speed of travel, and the food is more particular than before, but it takes more time-baked potatoes, skewered garlic, paper-wrapped beetroot, and Rich also has a special introduction to nature. Cooking wild food book, he will make pancakes out of hogweed.The daily progress gradually fell, and sometimes I couldn't even walk three miles a day.

The members excitedly communicate about the lives they've left behind and the mistakes they've made in the past.They firmly believe that they are no longer a walking corpse combined with torso, limbs and head, but form a unified force to work hard for Queenie Hennessy.For a long time, only Harold believed in this belief, so seeing the enthusiasm of these people, Harold was deeply moved.They pitched tents, rolled out sleeping bags, and rested under the stars.They promised themselves that they would help Queenie survive. However, after only a few days, a new contradiction arose.Kate doesn't have time for Rich, she says, he's just a megalomaniac.He called her a crazy woman.One night, when the orangutan boy and an extra student slept with the same elementary school teacher, Rich's pent-up anger finally exploded, and he pumped his fist hard.Wilf kept persuading his companions to convert to God, which caused more dissatisfaction. "He's a nice guy," Kate said, "but I always thought he was a little creepy." When an amateur hiking group joined them for the night, the arguments grew: some said pitching a tent wasn't right for Harold. The original intention of this trip was that someone wanted to leave the road entirely and take the further Benning route.Another night focused entirely on a debate contest: Is it immoral to eat small animals that have been hit and killed by cars?The more Harold listened, the sadder he became.In fact, he doesn't mind where everyone sleeps, which way they go, or whether they eat well.He thought only of Berwick.Sometimes he really wants to go out alone, but his character doesn't want to disappoint these people anyway.

Berwick seemed to be getting further and further away.As soon as there was news of them, it seemed that everyone with an oven at home in the neighborhood began to bake something for them.Kate was once nearly run over by a woman driving a Range Rover while she bent over to hand out a plate of sliced ​​pecorino.Around the campfire, Rich suggested that Harold say a few words to everyone before each meal, and talk about what it means to be a pilgrim.When Harold declined, Rich offered to speak for him, asking if anyone would take his words down.The orangutan man took the initiative to take on the job, although it was not easy to write with furry gloves, and he had to interrupt Rich every once in a while to remember the speech completely.

Meanwhile, the media continued to report on Harold's good deeds.He didn't read the papers, but it appears Rich had his own resources and was keeping abreast of developments: Crittero, a theist who claimed to have seen a golden halo over a pilgrim's head; The young man who jumped off the Clifton Suspension Bridge tells the moving story of how Harold persuaded him to stop suicidal thoughts. "But I didn't go through Bristol," said Harold. "I went to Bath, and then went straight to Stroud. I remember it well, because I almost gave up there. Never seen anyone on a drawbridge, and pretty sure didn't persuade anyone."

Rich thought these were details and irrelevant. "Maybe he didn't tell you that he was going to commit suicide, but seeing you gave him hope. I think you just forgot." He reminded Harold again to look at the big picture, and lack of exposure is a bad thing.Harold suddenly realizes that Rich in his forties is just the right age to be his son, but he talks like Harold is his son.He said that Harold is now monopolizing a market with great potential, and he must strike while the iron is hot, and he began to talk about the cherry theory and singing hymns with a unified caliber. Harold's head started to hurt when he heard it, and a series of The picture with the donkey's head wrong with the horse's mouth: cherry tree, hymn book, iron tool, every time a picture appeared, he had to stop and think about what Rich was talking about.I really hope this young man can cherish the true meaning of words and not use them as ammunition.Entering the first ten days of June, new stories are still being staged.Wilf’s estranged father spoke to the media, tearing up his son’s courage (“He barely even met me,” Wilf said).Berwickshire County Council is tailor-made for them with announcements and bunting to welcome them.The owner of a small grocer in Ripon claimed several pilgrims stole several items from his shop, including a bottle of whiskey.

Rich held a meeting, outspokenly accusing Wilf of stealing, and thought he should be sent home.For the first time, Harold stood up and protested, but it was uncomfortable to be in such a confrontational position.Rich narrowed his eyes and finally gave in, agreeing to give Wilf another chance, but then kept avoiding Harold.A meeting was held soon after, in which Rich claimed that a cook in the team had violated the Pilgrim Covenant by buying olive oil and eggs for ingredients.The impromptu pilgrim admitted tearfully, but he thought that people who made pancakes from hogweed should discipline themselves before talking to others.Immediately afterwards, almost half of the people in the team fell ill with food poisoning, because Wilf accidentally mistook the ugly but very poisonous mushrooms for common mushrooms; , cherries, raw gooseberries and started diarrhea.Orangutan was stung by a wasp in his glove while recording Rich's quotes.For two whole days they did not move a step. In front were several blue peaks that Harold wanted to climb, and the sun was high in the east, making the moon on the other side pale like a cloud.Harold thought of Queenie painfully, and hoped that these people would let him go. Rich declared that there should be a way to distinguish true pilgrims from followers, and he thought of a way.He'd been in touch with a friend in PR who still owed him a favor, and he reached out to a sports drink distributor who would be happy to provide T-shirts to all the real Pilgrims. The T-shirt is white, with the words "Pilgrim" printed on the front and back, and comes in three sizes, large, medium, and small. "White?" Kate mocked. "Where do we get white laundry?" "White is what stands out," Rich said, "and it's pure." Say.That company would also provide unlimited fruit-flavored sports drinks, all that was required was for Harold to show up with their product on a regular basis. Once the t-shirts were in place, a press conference was called and Miss South Devon came out on the A617 to pose for a photo with Harold. Harold said: "I think it should also be taken by other people who have made the same commitment as me to walk." Ritchie said that would dilute the message of New Age Pilgrimage and distract from the focus of Queenie's love story. "But it never occurred to me to emphasize those things," said Harold, "and I love my wife very much." Rich handed him a bottle of fruit drink and told him to point the branded side at the camera. "I'm not asking you to drink it, you just have to hold it. By the way, did I tell you that the mayor has invited you to dinner?" "I don't really feel hungry." "You have to remember to take the dog, his wife has connections with Blue Cross Animal Protection." People seem to be offended if the pilgrims don't go through their town.When the mayor of a North Devon resort called Harold a "superior middle-class white man" in an interview, Harold was so shocked that he almost felt like apologizing.He even pondered whether he should walk home on his return trip, revisiting the places he hadn't passed on the previous trip.He confessed to Kate that those fruit drinks made his stomach upset. "Ricky already told you," she said, "to stop drinking those drinks. You should put it away when the picture is done." He smiled sadly: "I can't hold an open bottle of drink and not drink it. I was born after the war, Kate. We don't brag or waste anything easily. We were born that way." grown up." Kate opened her arms and hugged Harold gently.He also wanted to hug her back, but he was at a loss standing in her arms.Perhaps this is another symptom of their generation.He hurriedly looked around at the people wearing T-shirts and shorts, wondering if he might be suspected of inappropriate behavior. "What's wrong?" Kate asked.Harold broke away slightly: "I can't convince myself that this is right. All this noise and fussing, I really can't see how it is possible to help Queenie. We only walked six miles yesterday, and the day before yesterday Seven miles." "I think you should maybe take care of the bigger picture. But we'll get there, don't worry." Even though Kate was so reassuring, Harold was very much annoyed.There were times when they went well, but with sickness, injuries, and all the public attention and support, it took them almost two weeks to cover sixty miles, and Darlington hadn't even arrived.He imagined Maureen seeing his picture in the paper and feeling ashamed.I don't know what she will think, if she thinks he looks like a fool.Harold slipped away alone while the supporters took out their guitars and sang around the campfire.The night was dark and lonely, with stars shining faintly, and the moon was missing again.He thought back to that night in Stroud's barn and suddenly realized that no one knew why he was walking to see Queenie.They all guessed it was a love story, or a miracle, or an act of kindness, or even courage, but none of them were right.The fact he knew was very different from what these people thought they knew. This discovery surprised Harold, and it also made him feel that even if he stood in the crowd, no one really knew him when he looked back at the group of people behind him. He, he was still alone.The flames transmitted light in the darkness, and laughter and laughter floated into his ears, but they belonged only to a group of strangers. He could have left quietly, since he had everything he needed anyway, shoes, compass, and backpack with Queenie's gift.He could make a detour, go through those hills, avoid everyone.But now he's in it, and wherever he goes, people will find him.Then he heard Kate's voice, thin in the night air, and the dog barking at her feet.He turned and went back. Harold had just returned to the light circle of the campfire when Rich stepped out of the shadows.Seeing the figure of the old man, he seemed to have an idea suddenly, walked towards Harold, hugged him, and patted him on the shoulder.Perhaps he had been drinking, and Harold was sure he could smell it.His nose and mouth were pressed tightly against Richie's T-shirt. "I'll never reach your level," said the young pilgrim.Or at least that's what Harold heard.Articulation is very vague. "It's not a game." Harold tried to break free, but Ricky wouldn't let go, so Harold lost his balance and almost fell. "You have to stand still." Rich laughed.It was a rare moment of acknowledgment of admiration, albeit a bit clumsy and strangely making Harold a little short of breath.The next day there was a photo in the newspaper, next to a headline: Can Harold Fry Make It?In the photo, he looked worried and almost fell into Rich's arms.