Chapter 26 14

14 There is a secret between us. We have something in common, between you and me.It never changes. Stonecropp had never spoken so directly.Yet Juliet understood. The young man with the crew cut communicated as much with silence as with words.Always muttering, grimacing, shrugging, humming.He sighed and scratched his stubbly head.He's always pulling at the ripped collar of his T-shirt, as if his baggy suit is still too tight.His smile is always projected to the side, not sure if his smile is welcome or not.If you know him, you will find his eloquence.You get a taste of the nuances of his spirit, though to others he looks a little stupid; stuttering and ferocious.

When the two of them were together that morning, he carried her away from the falls and into his Thunderbird, driving north, out of the city, and he told her we had something in common between you and me.We have it now, we will have it in the future, and it will never change. By midsummer, Stonecrop began taking Juliet to the home in Garrison Street, a patchy gray wedge-board house.In a row of faded stucco brick houses, the Stonecropps' house resembles an ocean-going ship hauled ashore.The expansive front yard has almost no grass and is full of trash.Stonecropp tried to keep it tidy—cleaned—but gave up as quickly as he did his overgrown backyard.The front porch was littered with furniture and other objects thrown from the back room, as well as buggies, scooters, and sleds.The windows at the front were cracked and visibly taped over.The roof is always wet, and such a dilapidated roof would leak even a drizzle; so close to the waterfall that the drizzle would turn into a downpour.When Juliet passes by this house, she often thinks: Who lives in it?She seemed to know in advance that the family at 1703 Baltic Sea Street was different from the other families in the cramped row house.

Stonecropp's mother, he murmurs coyly of his mother, had "run, run, South"—"Maybe Florida"—that was a long time ago.Juliet said in amazement that he must have missed her, and Stonecrop shrugged and walked away slowly. It can be said: This is an ill-considered sentence, maybe.Some silly. Then, not minutes or hours later, but days later, Stonecrop brought up the subject of his mother again, as if he had been thinking about it, had been having a conversation with Juliet in his head, and he said , sniffing heavily, "—run away, she did that, she might as well be dead. Before—" Stonecropp wanted to go on, but couldn't say anything.Juliet wondered if he meant to say before her accident.

The gray wedge-boarded house was the property of Stonecropp's father, who was called a police officer in that premise.Only his sister and mother called him Big Bud; Stonecropp often called his father "Dad" or "Dad"—"Old Man."Whenever his father was mentioned, he would look sad, frown, twitch or grin.He tugged at the dirty collar of his T-shirt, he picked at the scabs and scars on the scarred hands of the chef.It was difficult for Juliet to tell whether Stonecropp loved his father or pitied him.It was also unclear whether he was upset or angry because of his father's situation.Stonecropp was often ashamed and angry; perhaps he was angry because he was ashamed, or that he was ashamed to be angry.She wondered nervously when she could see the officer.But she knew it was best not to ask.

There was always a company of people in the Stonecropp house, including half a dozen lively children, mostly Stonecropp's nephews and nieces.And of course there are the unshaven young men about Stonecropp's age who are always downstairs, yawning, scratching their armpits, drinking from beer bottles, and then shuffling up the stairs. Building, I can't see it anymore.Instead of trying to introduce Juliet to these floating populations, Stonecrop quickly learned to smile brightly at them with the deceptively genuine enthusiasm of a cheerleader. "Oh, hi. I'm Juliet. Bud's friend." The first time Stonecrupp took her home, he introduced her to Aunt Eva, his dad's big sister who was a registered nurse and had been taking care of the police officer; the second time he took her home, he Introduced her to grandma, his father's eighty-two-year-old mother; finally, after long hesitation, sighing, scowling, sniffing, for the third time, he took her to his father.At that time, Juliet was already a little anxious.

It was a warm July afternoon, and it was getting late. Juliet was wearing white shorts, a pink printed shirt, and her long, unkempt hair was pulled into a simple ponytail.She wished the scars on her face didn't glisten like they sometimes do in rainy weather. The officer dozed in the weedy backyard as the sun set, a portable plastic radio blaring early pop music beside him.On the lawn next to his deckchair is a stack of humorous comic strips featuring The Adventures of Captain Marvel and Spider-Man.There were also scattered glossy posters of cars and boats.Juliet's sensitive nose was choked by the smells—bacon, smoke, piss-stained meat, dried piss.Oh, and she's trying not to get distracted by that loud, silly music. (That's not rock and roll, that's 1970s teen pop played in a candy store, with jingle-ring repeats and beats borrowed from The Beatles.) The police officer is half reclining on a dirty deck chair, his bare head bowed. hanging down.He looked ugly, like a puffy kid.His slack face was greasy, his scalp looked as if it had been burned by smoke, and his eyes were hollow and lifeless.There were many strange scabs and tumors on the veins of his bare legs and forearms.His hands and feet were long and thin, yet his body swelled as if he had eaten something large and indigestible.Wearing dirty shorts and a scruffy undershirt, he lay motionless, breathing heavily, until Stonecrop approached him.The old man moved uneasily as Stonecropp's huge shadow fell upon the officer, squinting at him.There was a flicker of fear in his dull eyes.

Stonecropp grumbled in greeting. "Dad. Hi. How are you out there?" The officer looked at him in astonishment and smiled hesitantly.He grinned, revealing yellow teeth stained with saliva.Stonecropp repeated his greeting several times in a loud voice, and bending over his father, the old man seemed to hear him at last. "Hi Dad? Have you been sleeping?" Juliet watched Stonecropp's thick neck slowly turn red, as it did sometimes in restaurants when Stonecropp's gruff uncle threatened him.She felt sorry for her friend, and he tried his best.Stonecropp always gives people the feeling of working hard.

He said into his father's red, veined ear, "Hey, look there? There's a visitor, Dad." Stonecropp cleared his throat loudly. Like a singer performing to a critical audience, afraid of failing but determined not to fail, Juliet stepped forward with a silly smile and licked her chapped lips.She didn't know why Stonecropp had brought her here, but here she was.She will take care not to disappoint her friends.She raised her voice over the din of the radio and said, "Hi, Mr. Stonecrop, I'm—Juliet." What a hopeful, pretentious name!Ariah had been hopeful and pretentious about it.

(However: Didn't Juliet kill herself anyway? Reckless teen.) Now that the officer had noticed Juliet, he probably took the little girl with the ponytail to be a relative who lived in the crumbling house.He squinted and frowned at her, not understanding what she was saying, as if she was speaking a foreign language.Juliet wondered what the poor old man could see, see her specifically beside him: his eyes were badly damaged, and his vision must have been slanted.He had just been rudely awakened from a comfortable nap, weak.His thoughts fluttered like confetti blown away by the wind.Juliet could see Stonecropp's father frantically chasing the crumbs, trying to piece them together.

The blaring pop music on the radio was still blaring.The simple, repetitive tune is like a lullaby, but with oddly amplified synthetic percussion.Stonecrop said with disgust, "Papa likes this shitty music, maybe that's the only music he can hear." The officer stared at her silently, so Juliet had to smile again, a bigger smile, the bright American girl smile that hurt her face from laughing.She held out her hand tentatively. "Mr. Stonecrop? Constable? Nice to meet you." The officer didn't respond.Juliet looked at Stonecrop next to him in disappointment. Stonecropp grunted and turned the radio down.He flicked the switch and turned off the radio.The officer reacted with the intensity of a bullied child, and hit Stonecropp with his feeble fist, which Stonecropp ignored, so composed that after a while Juliet suspected the matter. Did it ever happen.Stonecrop cleared his throat again, towering over his father, and said stubbornly, "This is Juliet, Dad, my friend Juliet."

The inspector looked at it quizzically, which piqued his great interest.His wet lips moved, as if making a mysterious sound.Juliet—Ye? Stonecropp did not give up.You can see him pushing a huge boulder twice his size up the hill.Up, up, breathless yet indomitable. "My friend Juliet. Lives in the Baltic Quarter." "'Julie-Yeh'?" the old man mumbled, his voice trembling like a trickle.Juliet recalled the legend about Bud Stonecropp.He was wounded by iron tires, his windpipe ruptured, "Bal--sea block?" "That's where she lives, Dad. You know where the Baltic Block is," Stonecropp patiently explained, though he wasn't sure the officer knew. "Her name's Julie-ye Bo-na-bi, Pa." Another awkward pause.The Inspector's eyes seemed to be on Juliet now, and he did his best to appear energetic. Stonecrop repeated "Julie-ye bo-na-by," and his raspy monotone struck Juliet's nerves as if he were plucking the strings of a piano very poorly.Suddenly he added, "Dirk Burnaby's daughter, Pa." This surprised Juliet. Suddenly, the officer woke up like a blind man awakened from sleep.He looked at his son's friend with his mouth open in amazement, as if he wanted to speak very much, but couldn't; something wet was blocking his throat.Stonecrop repeated "Dirk Burnaby" with firm clarity—"Dirk Burnaby's daughter"—and Juliet stood blushing, bewildered. "Should we go, Bud? Your father—not in the mood—" But the officer was trying to talk to Juliet now, staring at her with wet, wounded eyes.He raised a hand tremblingly, and Juliet suppressed the trembling and forced herself to touch his hand, and he grinned again and smiled.He struggled to produce each syllable like picking up grains of sand with tweezers: "'Bo-na-bi.'" Juliet asked with childlike frankness, "You—know my father? I think—a lot of people?" But the officer lay back on his deck chair, exhausted.He was panting like he was climbing a mountain, and thin foam appeared on his lips.His bald, baby-like head lolled on his bony shoulders.Stonecropp turned his head and called a few simple words or names. Juliet didn't understand, but after thinking about it, it should be "Eva" or the coherent "Aunt Eva" because his middle-aged aunt Appearing, smoking a cigarette, she advised the two young men to leave now.The officer had been in the backyard long enough in the afternoon.He had to be helped in.It's time for dinner.Of course, there is also that he wants to "change". "'Swap'? What do you mean?" Stonecropp walked away with Juliet, walking to his car parked in the driveway. Stonecrop muttered, "Nappies." Meeting the police officer for the first time, Juliet reckoned it took at least an hour, but actually less than ten minutes.She feels exhausted! They drove away.Juliet felt that her friend was angry.Sweat flowed down his blunt face like a stream, and his whole body exuded a stench of dampness.He seemed to have forgotten her existence.He drove his Thunderbird quickly, slamming on the brakes at an intersection, and the car wobbled.Juliet wiped her wet face cautiously, then handed some tissues to Stonecrop, who took them without a word. After a while Juliet said, as if there was no way not to say such things, "Your poor father! I didn't know he--was so ill." Stonecrop, who had been driving, did not answer. "But he's not old, is he? I mean—" In the tension and confusion, Juliet almost looks like your grandma.Here's a curious fact: The two Stonecropps, the police officer and his 80-year-old mother, look like they're the same age.