Chapter 41 Diamond J... Papa always fancied himself a real buffoon...

Back in the hotel room, I asked my father if my mother's whereabouts had been found out. "I went to visit an agent. This guy opened a liaison office to find business for models. He told me that there were no models working in Athens—named Anida. His tone was very firm. According to He said himself that he knew models all over Athens, especially foreign girls." I scowled with disappointment—my face must look like a rainy winter afternoon right now.I felt tears welling up in my eyes.Dad saw my virtue and said immediately: "I took out the photo I cut out from a fashion magazine and showed it to him. The Greek's eyes lit up. He told me that the model's name was 'Sha Yanyang' (Sunny Beach). This is of course a stage name. He also told me that in recent years, Sha Yanyang has been one of the most expensive models in Athens."

"What's next?" I looked up at Dad without blinking. Dad stretched out his hands and waved in the air: "He wants me to call tomorrow afternoon." "that's all?" "That's it! Hans Thomas, there's no rush for this kind of thing, it has to be done slowly. Let's sit on the rooftop observation deck tonight. Tomorrow. We'll drive to Piraeus. There There must be a public phone." Dad mentioned the rooftop lookout, and I immediately thought of something.I mustered up the courage to say to him, "Dad, don't forget one thing."

Dad looked at me puzzled, but I figured he already knew what I was going to say. "There is one thing you need to review carefully. You promised that you will review and reflect on this matter soon." I reminded my father. Dad put on a manly face and laughed, but his laughter sounded a bit like a wail, and it gave me the creeps. "Oh, that matter," he said. "I did promise you, Hans Thomas, that I would think about it.However, there are too many things to consider today. " I came up with a great idea.I ran over to open his travel bag, reached into the pile of shirts and socks, fumbled for a long time, found his leftover half bottle of whiskey, rushed into the bathroom without saying a word, and poured all the wine into the toilet.

Dad followed me into the bathroom, and when he saw me doing this, he froze for a while, staring at the toilet in a daze.I guess he must be struggling with whether to bend down and drink the half bottle of whiskey before I flush it down.Although Dad is addicted to alcohol, he hasn't fallen to that level after all.He turned to face me, unable to decide whether to growl like a tiger or wag his tail like a pug. "Well, Hans Thomas, you win," he said at last. Our father and son went back to the bedroom together and sat down on two chairs by the window.I looked at Baba, who was staring out the window at the high city of Athens.

"Sparkling drink to numb the clown's senses," I murmured. Dad was startled and looked back at me. "Hans Thomas, what are you muttering about? Haven't you drunk several martinis last night and still haven't woken up yet?" "I'm already sober! I just want to remind you that a real ugly don't drink, because alcohol will disturb his train of thought." "You little guy is crazy, just like your father! Oh, it's probably hereditary." I knew I hit Dad on the nail because Dad always fancied himself a real buffoon. To get him to forget about the whiskey in the toilet, I suggested to him, "Dad, let's go up to the rooftop observatory now and see what non-alcoholic drinks they have, and we'll drink the same. You can drink Coke, 7-up soda, orange juice, tomato juice, pear-flavored soda—you might want to drink them all mixed together? You can fill your glass with ice and stir it with a long spoon one"

"Enough, enough, stop talking! Thank you." Dad interrupted me. "Don't we have an agreement?" "Don't worry! I, an old sailor, will always keep my word." "Excellent! To make it up to you, I'll tell you a weird story." My father and son hurried to the rooftop observation deck to sit at the same table as last night.Not long after, the waiter from last night came over. I asked him in English what kind of non-alcoholic beverages were served here.As a result, we asked for two glasses and four different drinks.The waiter shook his head and muttered.

He really didn't understand what was going on with the father and son—drinking together last night, but drinking a big bottle of soda tonight.Dad told him that the diet must be balanced and the principles of the world must be maintained. After the waiter walked away, my father turned to me and said, "Hans Thomas, don't you think it's a bit weird? Let's come to a city with millions of people and want to be in this huge anthill. Look for a tiny ant." "This little ant is a queen." I said. I think this comment is quite witty and insightful.Dad obviously thought so too; a big smile broke across his face.

"However, Hans Thomas, although this anthill is huge, it is extremely well-organized. You can indeed find the ant numbered 3238905." Dad thought for a long time before continuing: "Actually, Athens is just an ant. A small nest in a much larger anthill, and the anthill is inhabited by five billion ants. But if you want to get in touch with an ant among the five billion ants, you have to It's not difficult. You just pick up the phone and dial a number. No matter where the person is, whether it's in the Alps, in the African jungle, or even in Alaska or Tibet, you can find him in the living room of your home. Do you know, Hans Thomas, that there are hundreds of millions of telephones on our planet?"

With a light in my heart, Huo Di jumped up from the chair. "Master Bun shouted into the magical funnel, and the voice was heard hundreds of miles away." I murmured this line that the dwarf read in the clown game, and suddenly, I understood its meaning . Dad sighed helplessly. "What are you mumbling about?" he asked. In a hurry, I really didn't know how to explain it, so I had to make up an impromptu statement: "You mentioned the Alps, and I remembered the village we passed by. A baker gave me some buns. Please let me Drink a bottle of soda. I remember, he also has a telephone in his store. Through this telephone, he can contact people all over the world. phone number."

It seems that Dad is not very satisfied with my answer.For a while, he just sat quietly on the observation deck, staring at the high city of Athens. "So you don't mind me babbling philosophical questions in front of you all day long?" he asked. I shake my head.In fact, my mind is so full of things I read from the Bun Book that I wish I could spill some and share it with others. As night fell, clusters of mercury lamps suddenly shone brightly, shining on the high city of Athens. "Dad, I promised to tell you a story." "Say it." So I started telling the story in Bun's Book One—all about Albert and Hans and Frod and the Magic Island.I made a promise to the old baker in Dulph, but I don't think I've broken my word, because I made it clear to Papa that I've improvised the whole story.In fact, I did invent a small part of the plot, and I never mentioned the Bun book in the course of the story.

Dad listened with gusto and wondered. "Hans Thomas, your imagination is so rich! It seems that you should not be a philosopher, you should try to write first." I was praised by my father again for something that had nothing to do with me. .At bedtime that night, I fell asleep before Dad.Before I fell asleep, I tossed and turned on the bed for a while, but Dad closed his eyes later than me. I remember seeing him crawl out of bed and stand in front of the window in a daze. When I woke up the next morning, I found my father lying on the bed, sleeping very soundly. I think the way he sleeps is like a bear starting to hibernate. I took out my magnifying glass and my bun book, eager to know what was going on on the Enchanted Isle after the Harlequin's Feast.