Chapter 32 32. Harold, Maureen and Queenie

Maureen listened to the news calmly.She booked a double room facing the sea, they had a quick bite to eat, and then she put Harold in the bath water and washed his hair.She carefully shaved him and put on some moisturizer.While cutting his nails and massaging his feet, she confessed to him all the things she had done, all the things she regretted endlessly.He said he did too.He seems to have a cold. After answering the phone call from the nursing home, she took Harold's hand.She repeated what Sister Philomena had said.Queenie ended up walking peacefully, almost like a child.A younger nun was convinced that Queenie had yelled something before she left, as if she had seen someone she knew. "But Sister Lucy is very young," said Sister Philomena.

Maureen asked Harold if he wanted to be alone, and he shook his head. "Let's face it together," she said.The remains have been moved to another room, next to the chapel.They followed a young nun without saying a word, for any words were too brittle at that moment.Maureen could hear voices from the nursing home, muffled conversations, brief laughs, the hiss of water pipes.Can you still vaguely hear birds calling or singing outside?She felt like a world inside her was swallowing her up.They stopped at a door and Maureen asked Harold again if he wanted to go in by himself.He shook his head again.

"I'm afraid," he said, his blue eyes searching for hers.She saw the panic, grief, and helplessness in his eyes.Then it occurred to her.He had never seen the remains. "I know, but it's all right. I'm here too. It'll be all right this time, Harold." "She walked peacefully," said the nun.She was a chubby girl with two pink roses on her cheeks.Maureen was very comforted that such a young and lively girl could maintain such vigor while taking care of the dying. "She was still smiling before she went, as if she had found something." Maureen glanced at Harold, whose face was so pale it looked like it was bleeding. "I'm so thankful," she said, "we're just so thankful that she's gone so peacefully."

The nun walked away for a few steps and then came back, as if thinking of something: "Sister Philomena would like to ask you two if you would like to attend our vespers?" Maureen smiled politely. It was too late to be a believer: "Thank you, but Harold is too tired. I think what he needs most is a good rest." The young nun nodded calmly: "Of course. We just want you to know that you are always welcome." She took the handle and pushed the door open. Maureen recognized the smell as soon as she walked in.It is the kind of freezing-like stagnation, mixed with a trace of incense.Under a small wooden cross lay the former body of Queenie Hennessy, with her white hair combed and spread on the pillow, her eyes tightly closed.Her arms were outside the sheets, palms up, as if she had let go of something.Her face was tilted slightly to one side, blocking the tumor.Maureen and Harold stood beside her silently, realizing again how completely life can be lost.

She thought of David lying in the coffin all those years ago, and she thought of holding his empty head, kissing him over and over again, and couldn't believe that her reluctance was not enough to bring him back.Harold stood beside her, his hands clenched into fists. "She's a good person," Maureen said finally. "She's a real friend." She felt a sudden warmth in her fingertips, and he held her hand tightly. "You've done enough," she said.Not just for Queenie, but for David too.Although that incident cut them apart, like a knife cutting fruit in half and throwing them into the darkness, their son did what he wanted to do after all. "I was wrong. I really don't blame you." Her fingers gripped his hand tightly.

She noticed the light coming through the door, and the faint sounds of the nursing home, filling the void like water.The room was so dark that details could not be seen clearly, even the outline of Queenie was blurred.She thought about the waves again, and how life was not complete until it was over.She would always be by Harold's side, however long he wanted to.When he stepped away, she still followed. Mass had already begun when they came out.They stopped, not knowing whether to thank them or to leave quietly.Harold told her to wait a moment.The voices of the nuns sounded, weaving into song, and there was a beautiful, fleeting moment when the melodious sounds of nature filled her body with joy.If we can't open up, Maureen thought, if we can't accept what we don't understand, then there's really no hope. "We can go," said Harold.

They walked along the shore in the dark.Families picnicking have put away their food and chairs, leaving only a few walking their dogs and a few running in fluorescent coats.They talked a lot: the last peony, David's first day at school, the weather forecast.It's all small topics.The moon was high and bright, casting trembling shadows on the unfathomable sea.A ship passed on the distant horizon, its lights flickering on and off, but it was too slow to make out which direction it was going.The scene is alive and well, and Harold and Maureen are at odds with each other. "So many stories. So many people we didn't know," she said.Harold watched the scene too, but his mind was full of other things.He couldn't explain how he had realized it, and he didn't know whether the discovery made him happy or sad, but he was sure that Queenie would always be there for him, and so would David.And Nabil, Joan, Harold's father and those aunts, except they wouldn't have the struggles and the hurts of the past.They would become as much a part of the air he walked on as those he had met on his travels.He saw people make all kinds of decisions, some that hurt themselves and those who loved them, some that no one noticed at all, and some that brought joy.He didn't know what awaited him after leaving Berwick, but he was ready.

Suddenly recalling the scene many years ago, Harold was dancing, and suddenly found Maureen looking at him across the entire dance floor.He still remembers the feeling of flailing his limbs wildly at that moment, as if he wanted to shake off everything in the past under the witness of this beautiful girl.Gathering his courage, he jumped more and more vigorously, kicking his legs into the air and twisting his hands like slippery moray eels.He stopped to observe carefully, she was still looking at him, this time she met his gaze and suddenly smiled.She laughed so joyously, her shoulders shaking, her hair brushing her face.For the first time in his life, he can't help but walk across the dance floor to touch a complete stranger.Beneath the velvety hair was pale and soft skin.She didn't avoid it.

"Hi, you," he said.His entire childhood was cut out and it was just him and her.He knew that no matter what happened, their paths were already connected.He knew he would do anything for her.Thinking of this scene, Harold felt relaxed all over, as if a deep place in his heart had warmed up again. Maureen pulled her collar up to her ears to keep out the growing chill.The lights of the small town behind are on. "Should we go back?" she asked. "Do you want to go back?" Harold sneezed.She turned to find him a handkerchief when she heard a short, almost inaudible sound like blowing her nose.He snapped his mouth shut.There was another sound of blowing his nose.Not sneezing, not wheezing.It was a hum, a snickering hum.

"Are you all right?" Maureen said.He seemed to be trying to get something into his mouth.She grabbed his sleeve. "Harold?" He shook his head, his hand still pressed tightly to his mouth.Another sound. "Harold?" she asked again.He put both hands up to cover his face, as if trying to smooth his cheeks.He said, "I shouldn't have laughed, I didn't want to. But—" He burst out laughing wildly.She still didn't understand, but a smile appeared on the corner of her mouth. "Maybe we should have a laugh," she said. "What's so funny?"

Harold took a deep breath, calmed down, and turned to look at Maureen, his beautiful eyes flickering in the darkness: "I don't know how I remembered this. But do you remember the night at the dance?" ?” "When we first met?" She started laughing. "Yeah, remember us laughing like two little kids?" "Oh, what the hell did you say, Harold?" He finally broke out into a wild laugh and had to cover his belly.Maureen looked at him, giggling now too, and could burst out at any moment, but not as hard as he did.Harold was already on his knees laughing so hard that his stomach hurt from laughing. Amidst the laughter, Harold took the opportunity to say: "It's not me, it's not what I said. It's you." "Me?" "Yeah. I said hello and you looked up at me. Then you said—" She knew.She remembered.Laughter burst from the depths of her belly, filling her body like helium.She covered her mouth with a snap: "Of course!" "You said—" "Yes, yes, I—" But I couldn't say anything.They tried, but every time they opened their mouths, a new round of wild laughter broke out, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.They had to grab each other's body to steady themselves. "Oh, God," she said quickly, "oh, my God. That's not even smart." She wanted to laugh, and couldn't help it, making a sound that was half a sob or a scream.Immediately afterwards, another wave of laughter hit, Maureen was caught off guard and hiccupped several times in a row.This time it was even worse.Both clutched each other's arms, bent over, and couldn't help but laugh.Tears came out of the eyes from laughing, and the face hurt from laughing. "People will think we have a heart attack together!" she roared, laughing. "You're right, it's not even funny," said Harold, wiping his eyes with his handkerchief.For a moment he seemed normal. "That is the power of love. In fact, it is the most common sentence. We must be so happy that we find it so funny." They took each other's hand again and walked towards the coast. The two small figures were reflected in the background of the black waves, walking further and further away.Just halfway through, someone must have remembered that sentence again, and another round of wild laughter arose.The two figures held each other's hands like this, standing by the sea, shaking with laughter.