Chapter 6 Chapter Six

The next day, I invited the rat to the swimming pool of a hotel at the foot of the mountain.Due to the end of summer and the inconvenient transportation, there are only about ten people in the pool.Half of them are American residents: They are not so much swimming as they are concentrating on sunbathing. This hotel, converted from an old Chinese villa, has a grassy courtyard. There is a rose fence between the swimming pool and the main building. Along the fence, you climb up a slightly higher hillside, and you can have a panoramic view of the sea, the port and the market. The mouse and I swam several times back and forth in the 25-meter swimming pool.Then they lay side by side on light folding chairs, drinking iced Coke.When I finished adjusting my breath and smoked a cigarette, the mouse stared blankly at an American girl who was enjoying swimming alone.

In the cloudless and clear sky, several jet planes flew away, leaving behind a few frozen white lines. "When I was young, there seemed to be more planes in the sky." The Mouse looked at the sky and said: "Almost all U.S. military planes, twin-bodied guys with a pair of propellers. Remember?" "p38?" "No, a transport aircraft. Much larger than the P38, sometimes flying very low, even the Air Force logo can be seen. ... I also remember DC6, DC7, and I have seen Saiba jets." "Old enough!" "That's right, it was still in the era of Eisenhower. As soon as the cruiser entered the port, the streets were full of U.S. military constitutions and sailors. Have you ever seen the U.S. military constitution?"

"Ok." "A lot of things are lost. Of course not that I like soldiers..." I nod. "The Sabana is so powerful that it can even drop napalm bombs. Ever seen a napalm bomb drop?" "In war movies." "Man has come up with enough tricks, and they are all so subtle. In another 10 years, I am afraid that even napalm bombs will be missed. " I smiled and lit a second cigarette. "Like airplanes?" "I wanted to be a pilot, so I went there. Unfortunately, my eyes were damaged, so I had to give up." "real?" "I like the sky, I can never get tired of watching it. Of course it's okay not to watch it." The mouse was silent for 5 minutes, then suddenly said: "Sometimes I can't stand it no matter what, I can't stand being rich. I wish I could run away. Can you understand?"

"I can't understand." I couldn't help being stunned. "But it's okay to run away, if you really want to." "...Maybe it's best to go to a strange city and start everything from scratch. It's not bad." "Not going back to college?" "Forget it. I can't go back!" The mouse chased the girl who was still swimming from behind the sunglasses. "Why forget it?" "Well, I'm probably bored. But I'm doing my best—I can't even believe it. I'm thinking about other people as much as I'm thinking about myself, and I've been beaten by the police for it. But When the time comes, everyone will have their own places, but I have nowhere to go, like a chair being taken away as a joke."

"What do you do next?" Rat wiped his feet with a towel and pondered for a long time. "If you want to write a novel, what do you think!" "You don't need to say it, just write it!" Rat nods. "What novel?" "Good novels, for me. I don't think I have any talents. But I think if I write, at least I have to write something that inspires me, otherwise it's meaningless. Right?" "yes." "Either for myself...or for the cicada." "cicada?" "Hmm." The mouse pinched the Kennedy copper candy hanging on its bare chest for a while. "A few years ago, I went to Nara with a girl. It was an extremely hot summer afternoon, and we walked on the mountain road for 3 hours. The living things we met on the way only left a scream and flew away. The wild birds, and the cicadas flapping their wings by the roadside. Because it is too hot.

"After walking for a long time, we found a gentle slope with neat and dense summer grass, sat down and wiped off the sweat in the refreshing mountain breeze. There is a deep ditch under the slope, and an ancient tomb is opposite , as high as a small island, covered with lush trees. It belonged to the ancient emperor. Have you seen it?" I nod. "At that time, I thought, why build such a huge thing?...Of course, no matter what kind of tomb has its own meaning. It means that it tells people that no matter what kind of person, sooner or later, they will die. The problem is that guy It's too big. It's so big that sometimes the essence of things is beyond recognition. To be honest, that guy doesn't look like a tomb at all, it's a mountain. The water surface of Haogou is full of frogs and water plants, and the surrounding fence is covered with spider webs.

"I looked at the ancient tombs in silence, and listened to the sound of the wind blowing over the water. The feelings I felt at that time can never be expressed in words. No, it was not a mood at all, but a feeling, a completely The feeling of being completely surrounded. In other words, cicadas, frogs, spiders, and the wind are all integrated into one body and drifting in the universe.” Having said that, the rat drank the last sip of the cola whose foam had disappeared. "Every time I write something, I think of that summer afternoon and the ancient tombs with lush trees. And I think, how wonderful it would be to write something about cicadas, frogs, spiders, summer grass and wind!"

After finishing speaking, the Mouse clasped his hands behind his neck and silently looked at the sky. "Then... what did you write?" "Where, not a single line was written, nothing was written." "Is that so?" "You are the salt of the earth." "?" "If the salt fails, replace it with something else," said the Rat. At dusk, when the sun dimmed, we left the swimming pool, stepped into the small bar of the hotel, where the Italian folk melody of Mantobani was playing, and drank cold beer.Outside the large window, the lights of the port can be seen vividly.

"How is the girl?" I asked through gritted teeth. The Rat wiped the foam off his mouth with his fingernails, staring at the ceiling thoughtfully. "To put it bluntly, I was going to tell you nothing about it. It's pretty silly." "Don't you want to discuss it with me?" "That's true. But after thinking about it all night, it's still possible. There are things in the world that can't be helped." "For example?" "For example, a tooth decay: one day I suddenly have pain, and no one comforts me, and the pain persists. As a result, I start to be very angry with myself, and then I get angry for no reason at those who are not angry with me. Understand?"

"More or less," I said, "but if you think about it: the conditions are the same for everyone, it's like flying in the same plane that broke down. Of course, some are luckier, some are less lucky, and some are stronger. Some are cowardly, some have money and some have no money. But no one has the self-confidence of ordinary people. Everyone is the same. The guy who has something is afraid of losing it once, and the guy who has nothing is afraid of having nothing forever. Everyone is the same. So, People who realized this earlier should try to make themselves more or less confident, even if they put on an air, right? There are no confident people, there are no such people, there are only people who can pretend to be confident."

"Ask a question?" I nod. "You really think so?" "Ok." The Mouse remained silent, staring at the beer mug for a long time. "Can't you say it's a lie?" The mouse looked solemn. I drove the rat home, and walked into the jazz bar alone. "said?" "said." "That's good." After Jay said that, he put the potato chips in front of me. Hartfield, a writer whose oeuvre is enormous, rarely touches directly on life, aspirations, or love.In the more serious (so-called serious, that is, no aliens or monsters appearing on the scene) semi-autobiographical work "One and a half times around the rainbow" (1937), Hatfield mostly uses irony, jokes, and irony His tone expressed his heartfelt words very succinctly: "I swear to the most sacred book in this room, the alphabetical telephone directory: Be real, I'm just being real. Life is empty. But of course there is salvation. For it was not entirely empty in its beginning.It is our own painstaking efforts and all kinds of equipment that have worn it down and completely hollowed it out.As for how hard and worn, I won't describe them one by one here.Because it is very troublesome.If anyone wants to know anyway, please read Roman.Roland's "John.Christophe.Everything is written there. " Hatfield's reason for "John."Christophe" is greatly appreciated, one of the reasons is that the book describes the process of a person from life to death in a meticulous and orderly manner; the other is that it is a long and long novel.He has always believed that since a novel is a kind of information, it must be able to be expressed by charts and chronology, and its accuracy is directly proportional to the quantity. For Tolstoy, he tends to be critical.He said that the problem is of course not the quantity, but the lack of the concept of the universe, so the impression of the work is not harmonious enough.When he uses the word "cosmic concept", it mostly means that the work is "incorrigible". His most satisfying novel is "The Dog of Flanders".He said, "Hey, can you believe you died for a painting?" A journalist asked Hartfield this way in an interview: "The hero of your book, Walter, died twice on Mars and once on Venus. Isn't that contradictory?" Hatfield responded: "Do you know how time flows in the universe?" "I don't know," the reporter replied, "but who can know?" "What's the point of writing a novel about something that everyone knows!" Hatfield has a short story called "The Well of Mars," the most unconventional of his works, which seems to hint at Brad Bailey's imminent appearance.I read the book a long time ago, and I have forgotten the details. Now I will write the outline below: It is the story of a young man who drilled into countless bottomless wells on the surface of Mars.The well is estimated to have been dug by Martians tens of thousands of years ago.The strange thing is that these wells are all cleverly avoided the water veins.No one knows what they are digging these things for. In fact, the Martians left nothing behind but these wells.No writing, no houses, no utensils, no iron, no tombs, no rockets, no towns, no vending machines, not even shells.Only there is a well.As for whether it can be called civilization, it is very difficult for scholars on earth to judge.Indeed, these wells were impeccably built, and despite tens of thousands of years, none of the bricks collapsed. Needless to say, several explorers and expedition members went into the well.Those who carried the rope had to return to the ground because the vertical well was too deep and the horizontal hole was too long; those who did not bring the rope did not return. One day, a young man who was in a hurry to and fro in the universe got into the well.He was tired of the immensity of the universe, and looked forward to dying quietly.As the body descended, the young man felt that the well hole gradually became more comfortable, and a wonderful force began to gently envelop his whole body.After descending about 1 kilometer, he found a suitable horizontal hole, drilled into it, and walked aimlessly along the winding road.I don't know how long it took, but the watch has already stopped.Maybe two hours, maybe two days.There was no sense of hunger or fatigue at all, and the incredible force he felt before was still wrapping around his body. At a certain moment, he suddenly noticed the sunlight, and it turned out that the horizontal hole was connected with other wells.He climbed up the side of the well and returned to the surface.He sat bowed around the well, looking at the unobstructed wilderness, and at the sun.Something went wrong!The breath of the wind, the sun... Although the sun is in the mid-heaven, it has become a huge orange block like the setting sun. "In another 250,000 years, the sun will explode...oFF. 250,000 years is not a long time." Feng whispered to him, "Don't worry about me, I'm just the wind. If you want, call It doesn't matter that I'm a Martian, it doesn't sound bad! Of course, words don't make sense to me." "But you were talking." "Me? You're the one talking. I'm just giving your heart a hint." "What's the matter with the sun, anyway?" "Old, dying. Neither you nor I can do anything." "Why did you suddenly..." "It didn't come out of nowhere. About 1.5 billion years have passed in the time you've traveled in the well, as your proverb says, time flies. The well you're walking in was dug along the slope of time. That is, we It's in time, from the birth of the universe until it dies. So we don't care about life or death. It's just the wind." "May I ask after you have a sentence?" "Wish to hear." "What have you learned?" The atmosphere trembled slightly, the wind burst into a smile, and for a moment, the eternal silence shrouded the surface of Mars again.The young man took out a pistol from his pocket, put the muzzle against his temple, and lightly pulled the trigger. The phone rang. "Come back," she said. "I want to see you." "Can I get out now?" "no problem." "Five o'clock in front of the YWCA." "What to do at YWCA?" "OVI" I put down the phone, shower, and drink a beer.At dusk when the drink was almost finished, a waterfall-like shower fell from the sky. When we came to YWCA, the rain had completely stopped.The girls who walked out looked up at the sky with doubts on their faces, some opened their umbrellas, and some folded them up.I pulled the brakes on the opposite side of the door, turned off the engine, and lit a cigarette.The gateposts, drenched up and down in the rain, looked like two tombstones standing in the wilderness. Next to the shabby and desolate building of the YWCA, a new but cheap rental building was built, with a huge refrigerator advertising board on the roof.A woman in her mid-30s in an apron leans forward, gleefully opening the refrigerator door despite looking utterly anemic, allowing a glimpse of the contents inside. The first layer is ice cubes and 1 liter of Hua Nila ice cream, and a pack of frozen shrimp; the second layer is egg cartons, butter, Camembert cheese, boneless ham; the third layer is fish and chicken legs; the bottom Inside the plastic box are tomatoes, cucumbers, asparagus, lettuce, and grapefruit; on the door are three large bottles of Coca-Cola, three beer bottles, and milk in soft packaging. While waiting for her, I leaned over the steering wheel to go through the contents of the refrigerator one by one.In any case, I always feel that 1 liter of ice cream is too much, and not having plastic wrap is a fatal omission. She came out the door a little after five: wearing a Lacoste blush polo shirt and a white cloth miniskirt, with her hair tied back and glasses.I haven't seen her for a week, and she looks three or four years older.Probably the relationship between the hairstyle and glasses. "What a terrible rain." She said as soon as she got into the assistant's seat, and nervously tugged at the hem of her skirt. "Wet?" "a little bit." I took out the sea bath towel that had been there since I went to the pool from the back seat and handed it to her.She used it to wipe the sweat off her face, wiped a few handfuls of hair, and gave it back to me. "Drinking coffee nearby when I started to play, it was like a flood." "But it's getting cooler!" "That's true." She nodded, stretched her arms out of the window, and tested the temperature outside. Compared with the last time they met, there seemed to be a less harmonious atmosphere between the two. "Have you enjoyed the trip?" I tried to ask. "Where to go for a trip, I will lie to you." "Why lie?" "Tell me later." I lie sometimes. The last time I lied was last year. Lying is a very nasty business.It may be said that lying and silence are the two most prevalent sins in modern human society.In fact, we often lie, and we often keep silent. However, if we babble all year round, and all the babbling is true, then the value of truth will be lost. Last fall, my girlfriend and I were in bed naked and we were both starving. "Nothing to eat?" I asked her. "looking around." Still naked, she rolled over and got out of bed, opened the refrigerator, found a piece of old bread, put lettuce and sausage into it to make a simple sandwich, and served it on the bed together with instant coffee.It was a somewhat cold night for October, and when she went to bed, she was as cold as a salmon in a can. "No wasabi." "Advanced enough!" We huddled around the quilt, munching on sandwiches and watching old movies on TV. It's "Battlefield Bridge". She let out a long exclamation when the bridge was finally blown up. "Why bother to build a bridge so desperately?" She pointed to Aleko who was standing blankly.Guinness asked me. "To continue to be proud." "Hmm..." She stuffed her mouth with bread, and thought about her pride for a long time.As for what other thoughts came into her head, I can't imagine, and it's the same at ordinary times. "Hey, do you love me?" "certainly." "Want to get married?" "Right now?" "Sooner or later... it's early." "Of course I do." "But you didn't say a word before I asked!" "Forgot to mention." "... How many children do you want?" "Three." "Male? Female?" "Two women, one man." She swallowed the bread in her mouth with the coffee and looked at my face intently. "Lies!" she said. But she was wrong, only this time I didn't lie.