Chapter 2 Chapter two

Why talk about the first days?What is left of those days?Only silent, painful memories.At that time, I no longer knew who I was or where I was.There was only one image before my eyes: I was dying, and over the bed stood Marceline, my wife, my life.I know it was her loving care and her love that brought me back to life.At last one day, like a lost sailor seeing land, I felt a ray of life reappear; I was able to smile at Maceline.Why describe these situations?The important thing is that, in ordinary terms, the wings of death touched me.Importantly, I am amazed that I am still alive, and the world is brighter than I expected.I thought to myself, there was a time when I didn't understand that I was living.I must be very excited to discover life this time.

Finally one day, I can get up.I am completely mesmerized by our family.It is simply a platform.What kind of platform!My room and Marceline's room faced it.It extends forward is the roof.Climb to the highest point and see the palm trees above the houses, and the desert above the palm trees.The other side of the terrace adjoins the gardens of the city, and is covered with the foliage of the acacia trees that border the gardens; finally, it follows a courtyard, to the steps that connect it to it.The small courtyard is very neat, with six palm trees growing symmetrically.My room was very large, with whitewashed walls and bare decorations; there was a small door leading to Maceline's room, and a large glass opening onto the terrace.

Day by day, regardless of time, passes there.How often have I seen these slow days again in my solitude! ...Macelin was by my side, reading, sewing, or writing.I do nothing but stare at her.Marceline!Marceline! ... I looked, saw the sun, saw the shadow, saw the shadow move; my mind was almost blank, only watching the shadow.I am still very weak, and it is very difficult to breathe; I am tired of doing everything, even reading books; besides, what books should I read?Existence itself is enough for me to cope. One morning, Marceline came in with a smile and said to me, "I'll bring you a friend." Then I saw a brown-skinned Arab child following her.His name was Basil, and he looked at me silently with big eyes.I was a little uncomfortable, and the feeling was already exhausting; I didn't say a word, and looked annoyed.Seeing my indifferent attitude, the child couldn't help panicking. He turned towards Marceline, hated her, took her hand, hugged her, and showed a pair of bare arms. His movements were as intimate and cute as a small animal. .I noticed that under the thin white tunic and patched cloak he was completely naked.

"There! Sit there," Maceline said to him, seeing that I was uncomfortable. "Play obediently." The boy sat down, drew a knife from the hood of his cloak, and whittled a piece of wood.I figured he was going to make a whistle. After a while, I no longer feel restrained in his presence, and I look at him.He seemed to have forgotten where he was.He was barefoot, with nice ankles and wrists.He was hilariously deft with that broken knife.Really, am I interested in this?His hair was cut into a crew cut arabesque; he wore a battered beanie with a hole in the tassel.The sleeveless gown hung down a little, revealing her petite and lovely shoulders.I really want to touch his shoulder.I leaned over; he turned and smiled at me.I motioned for him to give me the whistle, and I took it and fiddled with it, pretending to appreciate it.Now he is leaving.Marceline gave him a piece of cake, and I gave two coppers.

The next day, for the first time, I was bored; I was looking forward to it; what to look forward to?I felt like I had nothing to do and I was restless.I finally couldn't hold back anymore: "Isn't Basil coming this morning, Marceline?" "If you want to see him, I'll go find him." She left me, went out, and returned after a while alone.What has the disease done to me?Seeing that she did not bring Basil brought me almost to tears. "It's too late," she said to me. "The kids run away from school. You know, some of them are lovely. I think they all know me now."

"At least try to have him come tomorrow." The next day, Basil came again.He sat down as he did the day before, and took out his knife to whittle a piece of hard wood, but the wood didn't move, and he cut a big gash on his thumb.I trembled in fright, but he laughed, stretched out the shiny knife edge, and it was fun to watch the bleeding.When he smiled, he showed his white teeth; he licked his wound with relish.what!How healthy he is!That's what fascinated me about him: health.This little body is really healthy. The next day, he brought some marbles and asked me to play with them.Marceline is not here, or else it would stop me.I hesitated, and looked at Basil; the little one seized my arm, put the marbles in my hand, and insisted on my playing.I was out of breath as soon as I bent over, but I still held on to play with him.I love how happy Basil is.Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, I was sweating profusely, dropped the billiards, and fell on the sofa all at once.Bazier looked at me in a little panic, "Are you sick?" he asked affectionately, and his voice was wonderful.Marceline is back.

"Take him away, I'm tired this morning," I told her. Hours later, I coughed up blood again.I was plodding along the terrace; Maceline was working in her room, but she saw nothing.At that time, I was panting, so I took a deep breath, and suddenly I came up, my mouth was full... But it didn't cough up blood like in the early stage, this time it was a dirty big blood clot, and I spit it on the ground disgustingly. I staggered a few steps, my heart fluttered, my whole body trembled, I was very worried and very annoyed.Before that, I thought the disease would get better step by step, just wait for the recovery.This sudden turn of events threw me back again.Oddly enough, I had never been so frightened during the initial hemoptysis; I remember being almost at peace then.Now where does the fear come from, where does the fear come from?Yes, alas!I started to love life.

I turned back, bent down, found the blood I had coughed up, picked it up with a grass stalk, put it on my handkerchief, and took a closer look.It was a pool of dirty, blackened blood, slimy, and disgusting to look at.I think of Basil's bright red blood.I suddenly had a desire, a longing, a strong and urgent thought that I had never had before: live!I want to live, I want to live.I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists, frantically and chagrinedly concentrating all my strength toward life. The day before the hemoptysis, I received a letter from T: the letter answered Marceline's concerns, and it was full of treatment methods. It also included several popular medical books and a more specialized book; I think this monograph is more serious.I glanced over the letter carelessly, and did not look at the printed matter at all; firstly, because these pamphlets, which resembled the little moral books which I had been flooded with as a child, did not appeal to me, and secondly, because all these suggestions disturbed me; I think books like "Tuberculosis Patient Handbook" and "Tuberculosis Practical Therapy" are not suitable for my condition.I don't think I have TB.I prefer to attribute the initial hemoptysis to some other cause, or, frankly, to seek no cause at all, to avoid thinking about it, to think less of it, and to conclude that I am, if not cured, at least on the verge of being cured... Now I see I read the letter, and read the book and pamphlet without putting it down.As if waking up from a big dream, I suddenly felt that my treatment was ineffective.Until then, I've muddled along, with utterly unrealistic hopes.Now I suddenly feel that my life has been hit, its heart has been hit hard.Many enemies are active in me.I listened, I peeped, I felt it, but I couldn't overcome it without a fight... I added in a low voice: "This is a matter of will." As if to convince myself more.

My mind went into a hostile state. As it was getting late, I worked out my strategy.For a while, the sole purpose of my research was to cure the disease; my duty was to restore the body to health.As long as it is beneficial to my body, I will say it is good and call it good; anything that is not conducive to healing, forget it and throw it away.Before dinner, I have made a decision about breathing, movement, and eating. We ate in a small pavilion, surrounded by platforms, far away from the hustle and bustle, quiet and quiet, and it was really fun for two people to eat alone.An old Negro brought us a modest meal from a nearby restaurant.Marceline is in charge of ordering food, want this plate, don't want that plate... I usually don't feel hungry, what food is missing, and I don't care much if the order is not enough.Marceline has a small appetite, and she doesn't know or notice that I don't eat enough.Eating more is at the top of all my decisions.I was going to put it into practice this evening, but I couldn't.I don't know what kind of vegetable soup I ordered, I couldn't swallow it, and there was also barbecue, which was too hot, it was just a joke.

I got very angry and took it out on Marceline and said a lot of nasty things to her.I blamed her; listening to me, it seemed as if she should have felt that the responsibility for the poor cooking lay with her.No sooner had I adopted the diet than I postponed it, a small delay which had serious consequences;I am stubborn.Marceline had to go into town to buy canned food, minced meat of any kind. After a short time, she bought a small jar.I gobbled it up and almost ate it all, as if to prove to both of us that I needed to eat more. That night, we discussed and decided that the food should be greatly improved and the quantity increased: one meal every three hours, and the first meal was served at 6:30 in the morning.The restaurant's dishes are too ordinary, and a lot of canned food needs to be added... I couldn't sleep that night, and I was completely intoxicated by the premonition of new curative effects.Thinking about it, I had a little fever, and I happened to have a bottle of mineral water beside me; I drank one, two glasses, and the third time I just pointed at the mouth of the bottle and drank the rest in one gulp.I revisited what I had resolved to do, like a lesson; I would learn to use hostility against everything; I had to fight everything: I had only myself to save myself.

Finally, I saw that the night sky was turning white, and it was almost dawn. This is my preparation night for a big move. The next day is Sunday.It must be admitted that I have never asked about Marceline's religious beliefs, whether it is indifference or out of face, anyway, I think it has nothing to do with me, and I don't pay attention to it at all.When she came back I heard that she prayed for me.I gazed at her for a moment, and then said, as gently as I could, "Don't pray for me, Marceline." "Why?" she asked rather uneasily. "I don't like seeking protection." "You refuse the Lord's blessing?" "Afterwards, he asked me to be grateful to Dade. I have to repay my kindness in this way, and I don't want to." We are joking on the surface, but everyone understands the importance of our words. "You can't cure yourself, poor friend," she sighed. "I'll admit it if it can't be cured...Besides," seeing her gloomy expression, I added in a more relaxed tone: "You help me."