Chapter 29 28

28 It did not occur to her that Duncan might not be in the laundry.When she arrived at the destination, a stone in her heart fell to the ground. When she opened the glass door panting, she was surprised to find that there was no one inside.She could hardly believe this was happening.She stood in front of a long row of white washing machines, not knowing where to turn.She originally wanted to find Duncan, but she didn't think about what to do after that. Then she saw a wisp of smoke rising from a chair at the far end.He must be there.She walked forward. He sat listlessly, with only the top of his head protruding from the back of the chair, his eyes fixed on the round window of the washing machine in front of him.There are no clothes in the washing machine.She sat down on the chair next to him, and he didn't look up.

"Duncan," she called him.He didn't answer. She took off her gloves and reached out a hand to touch his wrist.He jumped up. "It's me," she said. He looked at her, his eyes were sunken deeper than usual, and his eyes looked more confused, under the fluorescent lamp, his skin was bloodless. "Hey, here you come. It's the lady in red herself. What time is it?" "I don't know," she said, "I don't have a watch on." "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at the party." "I couldn't stay there any longer," she said. "I have to come out and find you."

"why?" She could think of no plausible reason. "Just because I want to be with you." He looked at her dubiously, and took another drag on his cigarette. "Listen, you should go back. It's your responsibility, that man by the name needs you." "No, you need me more than he does." As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she felt that this was true.In an instant, she felt very noble. He grinned. "No, I don't. You think you need to save me, but I don't. I don't like being a guinea pig for an amateur social worker." His eyes turned to the washing machine again.

Marianne squeezed the fingers of one of her leather gloves. "But I don't want to save you," she said.She realized that he had induced her to say contradictory things. "So it looks like you want me to save you, don't you? What's the trouble? I think you've got it covered. You know, I can't do anything anyway." Listen to his tone , he was a little glad that he was helpless and helpless. "Oh, no more talk of saving or not," said Marianne hopelessly. "Shall we find a place to go?" She wanted to go out.There are rows of washing machines in this white room, and the smell of soap and bleach is everywhere, and it is not convenient to talk.

"What's wrong here?" he said. "I do like it here." Marianne wished to shake him vigorously. "That's not what I meant," she said. "Oh," he said. "Oh, I see. You mean we'll find a place to stay together tonight, and after tonight it won't be possible." He took out another cigarette and lit it. "Well, you know, I can't go there." "I can't do it there either." As soon as she said the words, she thought why not, since she was about to move anyway.But Sisley will probably come back, and Peter... "We could stay here, maybe it'd be more fun. We might get into some washing machine, and your red dress hangs out of the round window, Lest that nasty old man come..."

"Oh, stop talking nonsense," she said, standing up. He also stood up. "Well, I'm irreplaceable. Looks like I'll get to the bottom of it this time. Where are we going?" "It seems," she said, "that we'll have to find a hotel anyway." She didn't quite know how to do this, but she was single-mindedly convinced that it must be so.There is only this way. Duncan smiled mischievously. "You mean me to tell people we're husband and wife?" he said. "No one will believe you wearing this pair of earrings. Others will say that you are corrupting minors."

"I don't care," she said.She raised her hand to unscrew the earring. "Well, don't touch it just now," said Duncan. "You'll spoil the effect." When they were out in the street, something bad happened to her. "Oh, that's bad," she said, standing still. "What's up?" "I didn't bring any money!" Of course, she didn't think that the party would need money.All she had in her coat pocket was a small bag for going out at night.Just now she had been rushing through street after street, talking to Duncan vigorously, and now she was like a deflated ball.She was limp and limp.She just wants to cry.

"I'll probably have a little bit here," Duncan said. "I always carry some money with me in case of emergencies." He fumbled in his pocket for a while. "Hold it." Marianne put her hands together, and what was put into her hand was a piece of chocolate first, then several neatly folded pieces of tin foil wrapped in chocolate, several white pumpkin seed shells, and an empty cigarette box , a messy little knotted string, a key chain with two keys, a wad of chewing gum wrapped in paper, and a shoelace. "Not this pocket," he said.He reached into another pocket, and a handful of coins and a few crumpled bills dropped to the pavement.He picked them up and counted them.

"Well, it's not a lot of money," he said, "but it's enough for our expenses. But not in this area, which is a high-consumption area. We have to go further into the city. It doesn't look like a luxury colorful giant." It can only be a movie in the basement." He put the money and the mess back into his pocket. The subway station has been closed, and the iron fence at the entrance has been pulled up. "Let's go by bus," Marianne said. "No, it's too cold to stand at the station and wait." They turned the next corner and walked south along the broad avenue, which was deserted and the shop windows brightly lit.There are fewer cars on the road and fewer pedestrians.It must be very late, she thought.She tried to imagine what the party would be like--was the party over?Did Peter realize that she had slipped away?But all she could think of was the chatter and laughter, the shattered faces and the white light of the strobe.

She took Duncan's hand.He wasn't wearing gloves, so she took his hand and stuffed it in her pocket.He looked down at her, almost hostile, but he didn't pull his hand away.Neither of them spoke. It was getting colder, and her toes were aching from the cold. They walked and walked for what seemed to be hours; it was a downhill road, not very steep, that led all the way to the frozen lake, but they were still a long way from it.They walked through block after block, tall office buildings, and a large open space in front of a car dealership, with strings of colored light bulbs and small flags hanging on the open space; it was not the place they were looking for at all. . "Looks like we're going the wrong way," Duncan said after a while. "We should go further."

They came to a fork in the road. The road was dark and narrow, and the sidewalk was covered with snow. If you were not careful, you would fall down. "This place is more similar," Duncan said. "What are we going to do now?" she asked, aware of the sadness in her tone. In this overwhelmed situation, she could not make any decisions.In a way, it's up to him. The money was his after all. "Hell, I don't know how things like this are handled," he said. "This is my first time." "Me too," she hurriedly defended herself. "I mean it's the first time something like this has happened." "There must be an accepted formula," he said, "but we can prepare as we go. We'll go one by one from north to south." He looked the street from end to end. "It looks like it's getting worse as it goes forward." "Oh, don't be so sloppy," she said grimly, "it's bad to have bedbugs." "Oh, I don't know, it might be more interesting to have bugs. We'll just have to make do with it anyway." He stopped in front of a narrow red-brick house between a dress rental shop with a determined bride in the window and a dusty florist on the other.There is a neon sign on the door of the house that says "Royal Macy's Hotel" and a coat of arms painted on it. "You wait here," said Duncan.He goes up the steps. Soon he was down. "The door is locked," he said. They move on.The next one looks more promising.It was older, and the Greek scroll cornices on the windows were black with oil smoke.The signboard reads "Ontario Towers" in red letters, the initial O is missing, and there is a line that reads "Affordable Housing".The hotel door was open. "I'll go into the hall too," she said.Her feet were freezing, and besides, she felt that she should no longer be afraid: Duncan handled it well, and she should at least give him moral support. Standing on the tattered floor mat, she tried her best to give a dignified impression, but wearing such a pair of earrings, she also knew that this was impossible.The night shift was a wrinkled, wizened little man who looked at her suspiciously.Duncan stepped forward and they talked in a low voice for a while, then Duncan came back and helped her out. When she got out, she asked, "What did he say?" "He said we were in the wrong place." "It was presumptuous," she said.She was very angry and felt that the reason was entirely on her side. Duncan sneered. "Well," he said, "don't be sorry, it means we'll have to find a place like that." They turned another corner and headed east onto a suspicious-looking street.On the side of the road are a few dilapidated but rather elegant houses, and then there is an even more dilapidated house, but the style is not elegant at all.It is also like other houses, the bricks on the front wall have been broken, the difference is that it is painted with pink plaster, and it reads: "Bed, 4 yuan per night", "TV in the room", "Victoria and Albert Hotel", "Lowest Prices in Town".This is a long building.A little further on they saw signs for the beer pub Men's and Ladies & Guys, and what appeared to be a tavern; but they must have been closed by then. "I think this is the right place," Duncan said. They went in.The night shift yawned and took down the key. "It's pretty late, man, isn't it?" he said. "It's almost four o'clock." "Better late than never," Duncan said.He took a handful of bills from his pocket and scattered the coins all over the floor. As he bent to pick up the coins, the night clerk looked at Marianne with an unabashedly weary sensuality on his face.She lowered her eyes and thought gloomily, How can I be expected to be seen as a decent woman when I dress and act like this myself? They went up the narrow carpeted staircase in silence. The room they found was no bigger than a wardrobe, and contained an iron bed, a straight-backed armchair, and a dresser with warped and peeling paint.There was a small coin-operated television set bolted to the corner of the room that required a quarter to turn on.On the dressing table were two folded old towels in light blue and pink.The window facing the bed was narrow, and outside it hung a blue neon light that blinked and hummed uncomfortably.There is another door behind the door, which leads to a bathroom the size of a dried tofu. After entering, Duncan bolted the door behind him. "Okay, what do we do now?" he said. "You must know." Marianne took off her goloshes first, and then her shoes.Her toes ached from the cold.She looked up, only to see his haggard face looking at her intently.The collar of his coat was turned up, his hair was disheveled by the wind, his face was pale and bloodless, only his nose was red from the cold.She looked at him, only to see that he took out a tissue from somewhere on his body and wiped his nose. God, she thought, what am I doing here?How on earth did I end up here?What would Peter say?She went to the window and looked out blankly. "Good fellow," said Duncan cheerfully behind her.She turns around.It turned out that he had found something new, a large ashtray, next to the towels on the dresser. "The real thing." The ashtray was shell-shaped, pink ceramic, with scalloped edges. "It says Burke Falls Giveaway," he told her triumphantly.Then he turned it over again to look at the bottom, where some soot fell onto the floor. "Japanese," he said. Marianne felt a pang of despair.Something must be done. "Hey," she said, "for God's sake, put down that damned ashtray of yours, take off your clothes, and get on that bed!" Duncan hung his head like a scolded child. "Um, okay," he said. He took off all his clothes in one go, as if he had a zipper hidden somewhere in his clothes, or a long zipper, which snapped open, as if a layer of skin had been removed.He threw the clothes on the chair, jumped onto the bed and lay down, pulling the sheet up to his chin, and fixed his eyes on her with barely concealed curiosity, only a hint of kindness. She pursed her lips tightly and made up her mind to undress.There is a person next to him sticking his head out of the bed sheet, staring at him with eyes wide open like a frog. Are you taking the stockings down casually, or are you slowly moving them down? It’s always very awkward. .She reached behind her back for the zipper again, but it wasn't big enough. "Unzip the zipper for me," she said stiffly.He complied. She threw the dress on the back of the chair and struggled to undo the corset. "Hey," he said. "A real corset! I've seen it in commercials, but never for real. I always wonder what the hell it is. Can I see it?" She handed it to him.He sat up on the bed and took it, spread it out, bent the bracket again, and looked at it carefully over and over again. "My God, it's almost medieval," he said. "How do you stand it? Do you use it every day?" From his tone it seemed like an unpleasant but necessary surgical device, like an orthopedic brace or a hernia strap or something. . "No," she said.All she had left was the village skirt, and she didn't know what to do.Under the light, she didn't want to take it off again (it was a bit prudish, she thought), but he seemed to be enjoying the corset and she didn't want to interrupt him.On the other hand, it was cold in the room, and she was shaking a little. She gritted her teeth and walked firmly to the bed.Taking this action requires tenacity.Without any hesitation, she decided to plunge into it without hesitation. "Go ahead," she ordered herself. Duncan tossed the corset away and sank back into the sheets like a turtle into its shell. "Oh, don't, don't," he said, "I won't let you go to bed if you don't go in there and wash off all that mess you put on your face.It might be fun to have an affair, but if it makes my face look like colorful wallpaper, I won't do it. " She understood what he meant. After she came back from washing more or less, she turned off the light, got into bed and crawled beside him.No one spoke for a while. "Then I'll wrap my manly arms around you," said Duncan in the dark. She put her hand under his cold back. He came to touch her head and sniff her neck. "You smell so funny," he said. Half an hour later Duncan said: "It's useless. I must not be corroded. I have to smoke a cigarette." He got up from the bed, staggered a few steps in the dark, touched his clothes, and found a cigarette after a while Then came back to bed.Now she could vaguely make out his features, and the ceramic ashtray gleamed in the light of the cigarette.He sat on the head of the bed, leaning against the iron bed frame. "I don't know what's wrong," he said. "Half because I don't like not being able to see your face, but it would be worse if I could. I feel like a stunted little thing on top of a pile of meat. Not really He said you are fat, and he added, "You are not fat, but I always feel that there is too much meat, which makes me breathless. He threw the half of the sheet that covered him on the bed. "That's better," he said, covering his face with the hand holding the cigarette. Marianne knelt beside him on the bed and wrapped the sheet around her like a shawl.The blue light coming in from the street made the room semi-dark, and against the background of the white sheets, she couldn't see the outline of his long, white body clearly.Someone in the next room pulled the toilet. There was a rushing sound of water flowing in the sewer in the room, followed by two hisses and then fell silent. She clenched her fists and grabbed the sheets.She felt tense, impatience mixed with another emotion, which she realized was ruthless strength.She thinks the most important thing is to arouse his enthusiasm at this moment, some of his reactions, although she can't predict what kind of reaction it will be, she has never felt that other things are so important, but she has not There is no way to do this.She looked at this white blurry figure lying before her in the darkness, moving as she rolled her eyes to see it, seemingly lifeless, a void, without warmth, without smell, without Thickness, no sound.This cold loneliness was worse than fear.No matter how strong the will is here, no matter how much effort you spend, it will be in vain.She felt unable to bring herself to reach out to touch him again, unable to move herself away. The light from the cigarette butt went out, and the china ashtray was lowered to the floor with a thud.She could feel him snickering in the dark, but what kind of expression, mockery, disgust, or even kindness, she couldn't guess. "Lie down," he said. She lay down, still wrapped tightly in the sheet, with her knees bent. He put his arms around her. "Come on," he said, "you have to straighten your legs. It's not going to be like a baby curled up in its mother's belly. God knows, I've been in this position long enough." He stroked her lightly. His body, almost like an iron, made her lie up straight. "You know, this isn't something you just give," he said. "You have to let me take my time." He slowly squeezed towards her.She could feel his breath on the side of her neck, cool with a strong smell of smoke, and then his face was pressed against hers, cool and straight into her flesh; protruding like an animal The snout is full of curiosity, with only a little bit of kindness showing.