Chapter 6 Chapter Thirteen and Fourteen

I added to my book that night, and the next morning I took it to school to read to Sharon and asked her to tell me about spelling and grammar mistakes. Sharon reads my book in the morning after class. She sits with the other teachers by the playground, drinking coffee and reading.After class time was over, she came up to me and sat down next to me, and said she had read the part where I had the conversation with Mrs. Asia Pacific, and she said, "Did you tell your father about this?" I replied, "No." She said, "Will you tell him?" I replied: "No."

She said, "Well, I think that's a good idea, Christopher." Then she said, "Will you be sad when you find out?" I asked, "What fact did you discover?" "Would you be sad if you found out your mother was having an affair with Mr. Xi?" she said. I said, "No." She said, "Are you telling the truth, Christopher?" I said, "I always tell the truth." She said, "I know, Christopher, but we sometimes grieve about certain things, and we don't like people knowing we grieve about them. We like to keep it a secret. Also, we sometimes Sad, but we don't realize that we are sad, so we say we are not sad, but we are still sad."

I said, "I'm not sad." She said: "If you start to feel sad about this, I want you to know that you can come to me and talk to me, because I think talking to me will help you to feel less sad. Also, if you don't feel sad , but it's fine if you want to talk to me about it. Do you understand?" I said, "I understand." "Very good," she said. I said, "But I'm not sad because my mother is dead and Mr. Xi doesn't live around here, so I wouldn't be sad for something that isn't true or doesn't exist. That would be stupid."

Then I went to do math exercises.I didn't have the cheesecake for lunch because that was yellow but I had carrots and green beans and lots of tomato sauce and then I had some blackberry and apple bread cut into small pieces but I left out the crumbs because It's also yellow, and I asked Mrs Dai to remove the crumbs before handing out the food, and I'm fine with different foods touching each other before they go onto my plate. After lunch, I spent the afternoon working with Mrs. Pi. I drew a few pictures of aliens, like this: 109 My memory is like a movie, so I can remember things clearly, such as the conversations I recorded in this book, and the clothes people wore, and how they smelled, because my memory is With taste and sound.

When someone asks me to recall something, I just press "rewind," "fast forward," and "stop" like I would on a VCR, but it's more like a DVD because I don't need to recall it every time. Rewind every time to recall things from a long time ago.And there's no button, because it's all stored in my head. If someone asks me, "Christopher, tell me what your mother looks like," I can rewind to many different scenes and say what she looks like in those scenes. For example, I can rewind to the 4th of July 1992, the year I was nine years old, it was a Saturday, we were on holiday in Cornwall, and that afternoon we were at a place called Popello On the beach in , my mother was wearing a pair of blue denim shorts and a light blue bikini top, and she was smoking a mint-flavored cigarette called Consulate.Instead of swimming, she sunbathed on a red and purple towel while she read Georgette Hale.She went swimming after sunbathing and said, "Oh my God, the water is so cold." And told me to go swimming too, but I didn't like swimming because I didn't like taking off my clothes.She said I could just roll up my pant legs and walk in the water, so I did.I stood in the water, and my mother said, "Look, isn't this very comfortable?" After she finished speaking, she fell back and disappeared into the water.I thought she had been eaten by a shark, so I screamed loudly, and she got up out of the water again, walked over to where I was standing, raised her right hand, and fanned her fingers, saying, "Come on, Christopher, touch me." Come on, stop screaming, touch my hand. Listen to me, Christopher, touch my hand." After a while I stopped screaming and raised my left hand, fingers spread wide Fanned, our fingers and thumb touch each other.My mother said, "It's all right, Christopher, it's all right, there are no sharks in Cornwall." I was relieved.

But I don't remember anything before the age of four, because my method of remembering things before that was wrong, so I didn't record them accurately. For people I don't know, I also use this method to remember.I'll look at the clothes they're wearing, or if they've got a cane, or have a weird haircut, or wear a certain kind of glasses, or wave their hands in a particular way, and then I'll search my memory to see what I used to have Have not seen them. It's the same way I cope when I'm stuck and don't know what to do. For example, if someone says something unreasonable, like "Goodbye, alligator," or "You're dead," I search my memory to see if I've heard anyone say that before.

If someone is lying on the floor at school, I also search my memory for images of someone lying on the floor from a seizure, and then I compare the images before me to see if they are just lying on the floor playing a game, or sleeping , or seizures.If they were having a seizure, I'd move the furniture so they didn't hit their head, and I'd take off my overalls and put it under their head, and I'd have the teacher deal with it. Other people have images of themselves in their minds, but their images are different from mine, because the images in my head are of real events, but the images in other people's minds are unreal images that did not happen .

For example, sometimes my mother would say: "If I hadn't married your father, I'm afraid I would be living in a small farmhouse in the south of France with a man named Jean. This man is, well, probably a handyman, that is. Workers who help people paint, decorate, tidy up the garden and repair the fence. We will have a balcony with figs on it, a large sunflower field outside the small garden, and a small town on a small hill in the distance. We would sit outside, drink wine, smoke Gauls, and watch the sunset." Sharon once said that whenever she was feeling down or sad, she would close her eyes and imagine that she was living in a house on Cape Cod with her friend Errie, and they would take the boat together from Providence to When Zhen sails out to the bay to watch humpback whales, she feels calm, serene, and happy just thinking about it.

Sometimes when someone dies, like a mother, people say, "If your mother were here, what would you say to her?" The mother is dead, you can't talk to the dead, and the dead can't have feelings. Grandma also has pictures in her head, but her pictures are chaotic and contradictory, just like someone messed up the negatives, she can't tell the order of the pictures, so she will think that the dead person is still alive, and she doesn't know the picture in front of her Be it real or on TV. 113 When I got home from school, my father was still at get off work, so I unlocked the front door and went inside, and I took off my coat, went into the kitchen, and put my things on the table, one of which was this book, today I took it to school and showed Sharon.I made myself a smoothie, warmed it up in the microwave, and went to the living room to watch one of my Blue Planet videos about life in the depths of the ocean.

This video tape is about the sea creatures living near the sulfur vents on the seabed. The so-called sulfur vents are volcanoes on the seabed. Sulfur gas is sprayed into the seawater from the cracks on the surface. The sea water is not only hot and poisonous, but it has a complete ecosystem. What I love about this video is that it shows that science is always changing and that what you took for granted could be completely wrong.Another reason I like it is that the location it shoots, while only a few miles above sea level, is more inaccessible than Everest.It is also the quietest, darkest, and most mysterious place on the face of the earth.I sometimes like to imagine that I am visiting that secret place in a spherical metal submarine whose glass is thirty centimeters thick to prevent them from breaking under the tremendous pressure.I also imagined that I was the only person in the submarine, and that the submarine was not connected to any ship, it could operate under its own power, I could control the engine at will, and let the submarine go to the seabed wherever I wanted No one can find me anywhere.

Dad came home at 5:48 p.m., and I heard him come in through the front door, and then he walked into the living room.He was wearing a lime green and sky blue plaid shirt, and one of his shoes had a knotted lace and the other was not.He was carrying an old advertisement for Fu's milk powder, metal, painted with blue and white enamel, and there were round rust spots on the enamel that looked like bullet holes, but he didn't explain much. He said, "What's up, buddy?" He used to joke like that. I said, "Hello." I continued watching the tape, and my father walked into the kitchen. I was so engrossed in watching the "Blue Planet" video that I forgot my book was still on the kitchen table.This is called "letting your guard down," and it's a mistake you should never make if you're a detective. My father came back to the living room at 5:54 p.m. and he said, "What's this?" His tone was so calm that I didn't see him being angry because he wasn't shouting. I said, "That's a book I'm writing." He said: "Is this true? Have you talked to Mrs. Asia Pacific?" He also said this in a calm tone, and I still didn't find him angry. I say yes." Then he said, "God the fuck, Christopher, why are you so stupid?" As Sharon said, it's called a "rhetorical question," and it has a question mark after it, but you don't need to answer it because the questioner already knows the answer.How to distinguish "rhetorical questions" is difficult. Father continued, "What did I tell you, Christopher?" louder this time. I replied: "You can't mention Mr. Xi's name at home, you can't ask Mrs. Xi or anyone who killed the dog, you can't enter other people's gardens without authorization, and stop this ridiculous detective game. I didn't do these few things, I just asked Mrs. Xi about Mr. Xi, because..." But my father interrupted me and said, "Stop talking nonsense to me, you little rascal, you know what you're doing. I've already read the book, and I'll tell you." that book. "What else did I say, Christopher?" I feel like this sentence is another "rhetorical question", but I can't be sure.I found that I couldn't think of words to answer because I was getting scared and confused. Father repeated the question again: "What else did I say, Christopher?" I said, "I don't know." He said, "Come on, your memory is very good." But I can't remember. My father said: "You can't meddle in other people's business. Look at what you did. You meddling in other people's business. You dig into other people's privacy. You talk to everyone. What should I do with you, Chris? Dover? What do you think I should do to you?" I said, "I'm just talking to Mrs. Asia Pacific, I'm not doing research." He said, "I want you to do one thing for me, Christopher, one thing." I said, "I didn't want to talk to Mrs. Asia Pacific, it was Mrs. Asia Pacific herself..." But my father interrupted me and grabbed my arm very hard. My father never grabbed me like that, and my mother sometimes hit me because she was a bad tempered person, in other words, she got angry more easily than other people, and she used to yell at me too.But my father was a calmer man, that is to say, he was less likely to lose his temper, and he didn't yell too much, so I was quite surprised when he grabbed me. I don't like people grabbing me, and I don't like being frightened, so I hit my father just as I hit him when the cop grabbed me by the arm and lifted me up.But my father refused to let go and yelled loudly. I hit him again, and I didn't know anything after that. I had a brief memory loss, and I knew it was short because I checked my watch afterwards.It's like someone turned my switch off and then turned it back on for me.When they turned me on again, I was sitting on the carpet with my back against the wall, my right hand was bleeding, and one of my temples was hurting.My father stood on the carpet one meter in front of me and looked at me. He was still holding my book in his right hand, but the book was folded in half by him, and several corners were folded in a mess. There was a scratch on his neck. , a chunk of the sleeve of his green and blue plaid shirt was torn, and he was gasping for breath. After about a minute, he turned and walked out of the living room into the kitchen, and then he unlocked the back door and went out, and I heard him open the lid of the trash can, throw something in, and put the lid back on.Then he went into the kitchen again, but the book in his hand was gone.Before long, he locked the back door and put the key in a small china jar shaped like a fat nun, while he himself stood in the middle of the kitchen with his eyes closed. Then he opened his eyes and said, "I need a drink." So he got himself a can of beer. I hate yellow and brown for several reasons. Yellow 1, small cake 2, banana (banana will turn yellow) 3. Double yellow lines 4. Yellow fever (this is a disease from the tropical regions of South America and West Africa, which can cause high fever, acute nephritis, jaundice, bleeding and other symptoms. And it is caused by a species called Aedes aegypti Infected by a virus after a mosquito bite.) 5. Goldenrod (Because I got hay fever from hay fever. Hay fever is one of the three sources of hay fever. The other two are hay and mold. Hay fever makes me very uncomfortable.) 6. Sweet corn (since it comes out in the poop, it is not easily digested, so it should not be eaten, like grass or leaves.) Brown 1. Dirt 2. Gravy 3. Poop 4. Wood (In the past people used wood to make utensils and vehicles, but they didn't do this anymore because wood is prone to breakage and rot, and sometimes has insects. Modern people use metal and Machinery and vehicles made of plastic are not only more functional, but also more modern.) 5. Melissa Brown (she is a girl in the school, she is not the same as Anil or Muhammad, she does not have brown skin, but her last name has the same pinyin as Brown, both are Brown. She drew me a The astronaut drawing was torn in two, and although Mrs. Pi taped it up, I threw it away because it was visibly broken.) Mrs. Fu said that hating yellow and brown is a boring behavior.Sharon said she shouldn't have said that, everyone has a color he likes.Sharon is right, but Mrs. Fu is also right, because it is a bit boring, but people always have to make many decisions in life, if you don’t make decisions, you can’t do anything, because you will waste a lot of time choosing To do or not to do things.So having a good reason to decide why you hate something and like something is right, like walking into a restaurant.My father would take me to Bernie's sometimes, you look at the menu and you have to choose what you want to eat, but there's something you don't know if you'll like it because you haven't tasted it, so you usually choose Choose your favorite foods and not choose the foods you don't like, it's as simple as that. 131 The next day, my father said he was sorry for hitting me, and that he didn't mean it.He taught me to use Dettol to clean the cut on my face so it wouldn't get inflamed, and then he told me to stick a piece of tape over it to keep it from bleeding. Then, because it was a Saturday, he said he was going to take me on an adventure, saying he was really sorry, so we were going to the Double Ten Zoo.He made me a sandwich with white bread and tomato, lettuce, ham and strawberry jam, because I don't like buying food in places I don't know.He told me not to worry because the forecast was raining so there wouldn't be too many people there.I was glad to hear that, because I don't like crowds, and I like rain, so I put on my orange rain gear. We drove to the "Double Ten Zoo". I haven't been to the "Double Ten Zoo" before, so I don't have a picture of it in my head before we arrive at the destination, so we bought a guide map at the information desk, and then we walked around the entire zoo, watching Decide on my favorite animal. My favorite animals are: 1. Randyman, this is the name of the oldest red-faced black spider monkey captured by humans. It is forty-four years old and as old as its father.It had been a ship's pet once, and it had an iron ring around its belly, just like in pirate tales. 2. Patagonian sea lions, whose names are miracles and stars. 3. Maliku, it is an orangutan, I especially like it, because it is lying on a hammock made of a pair of green striped pajama pants, and there is a blue plastic board next to the cage, which says that the hammock is made by itself of. Later we went to the cafe and my father ordered fish and chips with apple pie and ice cream and a pot of Earl Grey, and I ate my sandwich and read a guide map of the zoo. Father said, "I love you very much, Christopher, and you must remember. I know I lose my temper sometimes, I know I get angry, I know I yell, I know I shouldn't, but I'm doing this because I'm worried about you, because I don't want you in trouble, because I don't want you to get hurt, you understand?" I didn't know if I understood, so I said, "I don't know." Father said, "Christopher, do you understand that I love you?" I said, "Understood." To love someone is to help him when he is in trouble, to take care of him, and to tell him the truth.My father helped me when I was in trouble, such as when he went to the police station, and he took care of me by cooking for me, and he always told me the truth, which showed that he loved me. Then he raised his right hand, with the fingers spread out in a fan, and I raised my left hand, with the fingers in a fan, and our fingers and thumbs touched each other. I took a piece of paper out of my bag and tried to draw a map of the zoo from memory. Next we visit the giraffes.Giraffe poop smells a lot like the gerbil cages we keep at school, and giraffes have long legs that make them run in slow motion like they would in a movie. Then my father said we had to get home before the roads started to jam. 137 Elephant Giraffe Gorilla Chimpanzee Lemur Dingo {10} Barnob Black Ape Lion Tiger Vervet Langur {11} Gibbon Orangutan Penguin Large Monkey Seal Small Monkey Sea Lion Bird {10} Dingo, It looks like a fox. {11}The long-tailed langur is the ape in India. I like Sherlock Holmes, but I don't like Sir Conan Doyle, he is the author of Sherlock Holmes.I don't like him because he's not like Sherlock Holmes and he believes in supernatural powers.In his old age, he also joined the "Society of Psychics", which means that he believes that people can communicate with the dead.This was due to the fact that his son died of influenza during the First World War, but he still wanted to talk to him. In 1917 there was a famous "The Case of the Cottingley Fairies".Two cousins, France Griffiths, aged nine, and Elsie Wright, aged sixteen, claimed that they used to play with elves by a stream called Coddingley , they also took five pictures of elves like this one with France's father's camera. However, the elves in the photos are not real elves, but patterns drawn on paper. After cutting out and pinning them up, they become lifelike elves. They are drawn by Elsie who is very good at drawing. Photography expert Harold Snelling said: These dancing elves are not made of paper, nor are they made of any material; nor are they painted on the background of the photograph --- what puzzles me the most is that these elves tremble when the negative is exposed. He is so stupid, because they are made of paper, so they only move when exposed, and the exposure time is very long, which can be seen from the blurred image of a stream in the background of the photo. When Sir Conan Doyle heard about the sprite photo incident, he said he believed the article reported in the Strand magazine to be true.Actually he's stupid too, because if you look closely at the pictures, the elves look just like the elves in old books, and they have wings and they wear clothes and shoes and socks.It's as if aliens landed on Earth and took the form of the droid Daleks from Doctor Who, or the Royal Commandos from the Death Star in Star Wars, or the droids from the Alien comics. Like the little green man. In 1981, a reporter named Joe Cooper interviewed Elsie Wright and France Griffiths and wrote an article published in The Unexplained.Elsie Wright said in an interview that the five photos were fake.France? Griffiths said that four were forged and one was real.The two agreed that these elves were copied by Elsie from a book called "Grand View of Princess Mary's Gift" and the author of that book was Arthur Shepherson. It can be seen that sometimes people are willing to be ignorant rather than face reality. It also proves that the so-called "Occam's razor" (Occam's razor) really makes sense.But here is not referring to the razor used to shave, but a law. Its original Latin text reads: Entia non sunt multiplicand praeter necessitatem. meaning is: The number of actual things should not be increased unnecessarily. In other words, murder victims are usually killed by acquaintances, elves are often cut out of cardboard, and the living cannot talk to the dead. 139 When I got to school on Monday, Sharon asked me why I had bruises on my face.I said my father was angry and grabbed me, I hit him, and then we hit each other.Sharon asked my father if he hit me, and I said I didn't know because I was so angry that my memory went weird.She asked my father if he hit me because he was angry, I said he didn't hit me, he grabbed me, but he was angry.Sharon asked if he was grabbing me very hard, and I said he was grabbing me very hard.Sharon asked me again if I would be afraid to go home, and I said no.Then she said: "Okay." We didn't continue talking about this matter, because if you just grab your arm or shoulder when you are angry, that is allowed, but you can't grab someone's hair or cheek.Hitting people is even more unacceptable, unless you are already fighting with someone, then that's fine. When I got home, my father was still at work, so I went into the kitchen, got the key from the nun-shaped china jar, opened the back door, went out, and looked in the trash can for my book. I want to get my book back because I love writing books.I like to do things with a plan, especially a difficult project like writing a book.Besides, I haven't found out who killed Wellington, and this book preserves all the leads I've tracked down, and I don't want to just throw them away. But my book is not in the trash. I covered the trash can and went out to the garden to look in the trash can where my father usually puts garden waste—grass clippings, apples from trees, etc.—but my book wasn’t there either. I wonder in my head if my dad took it to the car, drove it to the dump, and dumped it in the big trash can over there, but I don't want that speculation to be true, or I'll never see it . There is another possibility that my father has my book hidden somewhere in the house.So I decided to search and see if I could find it.But I had to be alert to hear him park outside the house so I wouldn't get caught. I start looking in the kitchen.My book measures about 25 cm x 35 cm x 1 cm, so it is impossible to hide it in a small place, in other words, I don't need to check a small space.I looked up and down cupboards and behind drawers, and under the oven.I also used my flashlight and a small mirror I found in the tool shed to look for the dark places behind the cupboards where mice used to sneak in from the garden and lay a litter of young. Then I looked into the tool room. Next I check out the dining room. Finally I checked the living room and found the missing model chariot wheel under the sofa. I thought I heard my dad coming in through the front door. I jumped up and stood up. I hit my knee on the corner of the coffee table. It hurt, but it turned out to be the crack neighbor next door throwing something at the door. I went upstairs, but I didn't look in my room, because I reasoned that my father couldn't have hidden my things in my own room unless he was too smart to use the "cheat" that is common in true murder mystery novels. bluff", so I decided to search my room last when I couldn't find it anywhere else. I looked in the bathroom and the only thing I could look for was the hanging cupboard, but there was none. This meant that the only place to explore was Father's bedroom.I don't know if I should go in and look for it, because he said before that you shouldn't rummage in his room, but if he wants to hide my things, the ideal place is undoubtedly his room. So I told myself, I don't want to rummage through the things in his room, just move them out of the way, and then move them back.That way he won't know that I've flipped through his things, and naturally he won't be angry. I started looking under the bed.Under the bed were seven pairs of shoes and a comb covered in hair, as well as a short piece of brass pipe, a chocolate chip cookie, a pornographic magazine called Carnival, a dead bee, a Simpsons tie, and A wooden spoon, but not my book. Then I checked the drawers on either side of the dresser, but there were only aspirin and nail clippers, batteries, dental floss, a cotton swab, some toilet paper, and a spare denture in case Dad's denture fell out. , this denture can be used to fill the gaps between the teeth.He had once broken the tooth when he fell off a ladder while setting up a bird feeding box in the garden.But my book wasn't in there either. Next I check his closet.His clothes are hung in the closet, and there is a small drawer on it. If I stand on the bed, I can see the drawer, but I must take off my shoes first, so as not to leave dirty footprints, otherwise if my father also If it is decided to investigate, this footprint will become a clue to the leak.But there were more porn magazines on the drawer, and a faulty toasted sandwich machine, and a dozen clothes hangers, and a hair dryer that my mother used to use. At the bottom of the closet is a large plastic tool box full of do-it-yourself tools such as a power drill, paint brushes, some screws and a hammer, but I don't need to open the lid to see these as it's a clear light gray toolbox. Then I noticed there was another box under the toolbox, so I took the toolbox out of the closet.The other box was an old cardboard box, the kind you put shirts in when you buy them.When I opened the lid of the shirt box, I saw my book lying in it. Then I don't know what to do. I'm happy because my father didn't throw away my books, but if I took them away, he would know that I was rummaging through his room, and he would be very angry, and I promised not to rummage his room. Then I heard him pull up outside the house, and I knew I had to come up with a clever solution as soon as possible, so I decided not to touch the book, because, I figured, if Dad had put it in the shirt box, That means he won't throw it away, so I can go on and write another book, this time I'll keep it very secret, and if one day he changes his mind and asks me to get the first book back, I can Copy the new book into it; in case he refuses to return me, I can recall most of what I wrote, and re-copy them in the second book without anyone noticing; if I want to make sure I remember That's right, I can wait for him to go out before sneaking into his room to peek. I heard my father closing the car door again. Just then, I saw the envelope. This letter was addressed to me, and it lay under my book in the shirt box, among other envelopes.I picked it up and it still hasn't been taken apart.On the envelope it read: Christopher Bourne, 36 Randolph Street, Swindon, Wittshire It was then that I noticed that many other letters were addressed to me, which was not only strange but puzzling. I also noticed that the words "Christopher" and "Swindon" are written in a very special way I only know three people who use small circles instead of 口 when writing the characters "ke" and "shi".One is Sharon, one is Mr. Luo who used to teach at the school, and the other is mother. The sound of my father opening the door was heard. I took a letter from under the book, covered the shirt box, put the toolbox on the shirt box, and then carefully closed the closet. Father was calling, "Christopher?" I didn't answer, otherwise he would know where my voice was coming from.I got up and walked around the bed to the door, keeping the noise as low as I could.I clutched the envelope in my hand. My father was standing at the bottom of the stairs. I thought he saw me, but he was just looking down at the mail that had arrived that morning.He then walked to the kitchen from the stairs, and I closed his door without a sound and went back to my room. I wanted to open the letter, but I didn't want to upset my father, so I hid the envelope under my mattress before I went downstairs to say hello. He said, "What did you do today, boy?" I said, "We're going to 'Skills for Life' with Mrs. Ge today, learning 'Using Money' and 'Taking Public Transportation'. I ate tomato soup and three apples for lunch, and I did some math exercises in the afternoon, and we followed Mrs. Pi was walking in the park, collecting leaves for a collage." Dad said, "Great, great, what would you like for dinner?" I said I wanted baked beans and broccoli. "It's easy," said the father. I'm sitting on the couch, reading a book I'm currently reading, A Chaos World by James Gregor. Before long, I was in the kitchen eating my baked beans and broccoli, while my father had his sausage eggs and fried bread with a cup of tea. Then the father said, "I'm going to put those shelves in the living room, if you don't object. It might be a bit noisy, and if you want to watch TV, we'll have to move it upstairs first." I said, "I'll go back to my room." He said, "Good boy." I said, "Thank you for the dinner." That's how polite I was. He said, "You're welcome, kid." I go upstairs to my room. Once in the room, I closed the door and took out the letter from under the mattress.I held the envelope up to the light to see what was inside, but the paper was too thick.I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should take it apart, because it was stolen from my father's room.But I deduce that since the recipient is me, it belongs to me, and I can certainly take it apart to see. So I opened the envelope. Inside is a letter. The letter reads as follows: Block C, 451 Chater Road Willesden 2nd North West London 5NG 0208 887 8907 Dear Christopher: Sorry for taking so long to write this letter to you again.I've been very busy these days, and I've found a new job as a secretary in a steel processing plant.You'll love it here because the factory has lots of big machines that make steel, cut it, and weld it into shapes.This week they are making a roof for a cafe in a shopping center in Birmingham, it is shaped like a big flower and they plan to cover it with canvas to make it look like a super marquee. Meanwhile, we finally moved to the new address on the letter, which wasn't as nice as last time, and I didn't like Willesden too much, but it was easier for Roger to get to work, so he bought it ( Last time the place was rented) so we could buy our own furniture and paint the walls to our liking. This is also the reason why I have delayed writing this letter to you for so long, because moving is tiring, I have to pack, unpack and settle, and I have to adapt to a new job. I'm so tired, I'm going to bed, tomorrow morning I will put the letter in the mailbox, this letter will end here, I will write you another letter soon. 你一直都没回信，我知道你一定还在生我的气，我很抱歉，克里斯多弗，但我还是爱你的，希望你不要永远生我的气。如果你能写一封信给我，我会很高兴（但是要记得寄到新的地址！）。 无时无刻想念你。 很爱很爱你的妈妈×××××× 我被搞胡涂了，因为母亲从来没有在钢铁加工厂当过秘书，她只有一次在城区的一家大车厂当过秘书，而且她从来没有住过伦敦，她一直都和我们住在一起，她也没有给我写过信。 信纸上没有日期，我猜不出母亲是在什么时候写这封信的，我还怀疑会不会是谁假装母亲写了这封信。 随后我检查信封正面，发现上面有个邮戳，邮戳上印有日期，不是很清楚，但是这样的： 这表示这封信是在一九九七年十月十六日寄出的，是母亲过世十八个月以后的事。 这时我的卧房门被打开了，父亲说：“你在做什么？” 我说：“我在看信。” 他说：“我已经钻好洞了，那个大卫?艾登保禄的自然生态电视节目开始了，如果你有兴趣的话。” I said: "OK." 说完他又下楼了。 我看着那封信，在脑子里用力地想。这件事太蹊跷了，我想不透。它会不会是母亲在过世以前写的信，但是被装错了信封？可是她又为什么从伦敦写这封信？她离家最久的一次是她去探望她罹患癌症的表妹露丝那一次，她去了七天，但是露丝住在曼彻斯特。 接着我想到，也许这封信不是母亲写的，它或许是另一个也叫克里斯多弗的母亲写给他的信。 我很兴奋，当我开始写书时，我只有一个疑团有待解决，现在又多了一个。 我决定今晚不再多想，因为我手上没有足够的情报，很容易像苏格兰场的亚斯尼?钟斯先生一样“断然误判”，这是很危险的，因为你必须掌握充分的线索之后才能做推断，这样才不至于犯错。 我决定等父亲出门后，再到他的房间衣橱察看其它信件，看那些信是谁写的，信中又都说了些什么。 我把信折好藏在床垫下，免得父亲发现后生气。然后我下楼看电视。