Chapter 6 run with scissors (5)

"I've been depressed my whole life. I've worked so hard my whole life to fight to the death against that depression. When I was a little girl living in Cairo, Georgia , I have a black nanny, her name is Elsa. She lives in a small house on the other side of the city, and the small house is very shabby." She reached into her pocket, took out a cigarette, and put it in her mouth , lighting it gracefully.She blows a puff of smoke into the air. "Back then, black people were called niggers. I know 'nigger' is a dirty word. It has contempt, it has hate. I know, everybody likes to use it to describe black people, but I also know, Ai Elsa is not a nigger." She paused, then looked me straight in the eye: "You know what, it's wrong to describe a black person like that." She walked across the room, facing the wall: "I've spent my life, Only then did I realize that I am actually an artist," her face turned to me, "I also discovered that I am a woman, a woman with special needs. At that time, my mother suppressed my needs and forced me to never look back and unswervingly agree with Her oppression struggles against me. I also struggle against your father, who also oppressed me to death. For the first time in my life, I now feel that I can completely regain my lost self."

Instead of letting me listen to this nonsense here, let me listen to a teacher say: Nancy's change can buy six apples, each apple is forty-five cents, so how much is there in Nancy's pocket? A quarter? "So, Augustine, I want you to support my relationship with Fern because at this point in my life I don't need and I won't accept any gum. I've spent years and my whole life fighting against This kind of depression, I hope I don't have to wrestle with you again." She let out a long breath, closed her eyes, her head drooped deeply, and her chin dropped to her chest.

It looked like I should have applauded her, but I didn't. I said, "Okay, I don't mind, I won't interfere with you. Can you give me five dollars?" She smiled: "I hope I have five dollars for you. No problem, baby, if I have it, I will give it to you. Go, get my wallet, let me take a good look." It's a sunny Saturday afternoon.On this day, there are a few slender white clouds floating in the sky, which is indeed a good day for going out for a parade.Hope and I inflated some balloons and tied them with ribbons.Dr. Finch walked around the house in shorts and slippers, humming casually: "Dream the impossible..."

"Daddy—" Hope called. "Fighting in unbearable—" "Father! I want to know if you want us to tie the balloon to your hat or to your umbrella." Dr. Finch entered the room. "I want balloons on everything. It's a happy day and there should be balloons everywhere." Hope was all smiles. "OK." I blew up a yellow balloon and gave it to Hope.Hope tied a red ribbon to the balloon and tied the ribbon to the hoop of the doctor's brown fur cap. "We should tie more pink balloons to his hat," Hope said. "Daddy likes pink."

In the end we blew up about sixty balloons and tied them to the doctor's hat, to the umbrella, to the buttons of the doctor's long black wool coat.He wanted to wear it to the parade, despite the heat.We also tied balloons to our waists, and even two balloons to Agnes's chest, one on the left and one on the right. "I don't want to go out into the crowd like this," Agnes grumbled. "Give me some more balloons, and I'll have to tie them somewhere else. I don't want to just wear these two, what a look!" The doctor heard Agnes complaining from a distance, and he entered the room.He has his coat on now. "No, Agnes," he said aloud, "that's how you should go out with a balloon. You're the mother of the family, the great breast-feeder, and that's what the balloon is about."

"Come on, it's all bullshit," Agnes said. "I don't buy it." "As I said, you can only tie two balloons. They are your breastbirds." "Breast bird? That's fun, Daddy, I like the name." "Really like it?" The doctor raised his eyebrows, "Then, you should also tie two balloons on your chest." Half an hour later, Dr. Finch came out of the house, his clothes tied full of balloons.He raised his balloon-encrusted parasol high above his head.A pink balloon with a pink ribbon floated down from his hat. Hope and I followed, about a few paces away.We held a sign that read: Fathers of the world unite!Today is Father's Day all over the world!I was also covered with balloons, some tied to my belt.Hope had only two balloons, one on each chest.

Hope's sister Anne followed us, and her son Pubil.Anne was very annoyed. She felt that she was being tricked by Dr. Finch by participating in such a parade.She refuses to tie the "breast bird" and holds only a balloon in her hand.Pubil, on the other hand, was unambiguous, with six or seven balloons tied around his ankles, his tiny body seemed to rise from the ground. And then there's Natalie.She also agreed to wear the "breast bird", but she insisted on wearing sunglasses and a large hat, so that her acquaintances would not easily recognize her on the street. My mother was at the end of the line.She looked tense and uneasy.She holds a small white balloon in her right hand and a Moore cigarette in her left.She kept a certain distance from us, so that she looked like an ordinary woman who happened to go out for a walk, and picked up a small white balloon by chance, and just held it in her hand casually.I don't know if she's ashamed to be part of such a parade, or if she's on the verge of a psychotic episode that needs to be treated by Dr. Finch.

“I’m not feeling well today,” she had previously told me. “I’m writing a new poem, and it’s been hard work, and it’s exhausting me.” Our team marched down Perry Avenue, through Houllier Square, onto Main Street, and into downtown. To attract attention, Dr. Finch used a red kazoo (a toy flute) and played the Italian song "The Man from the End of the World" all the way. Seeing his appearance, the children on the side of the road screamed happily, and the doctor would stop, say "hi, hi, hi" and hand out mimeographed leaflets to their parents , which read: "You, emotionally immature fathers, are a disaster for children and society." Signed: B.Sc. Finch, M.D.

The child's parents smiled politely and looked a little annoyed and annoyed.As we walked past, they were scrambling to throw flyers in the trash.I've seen more than one mother carefully examine her child's hands to make sure they aren't wearing little badges or anything like that. To me, this kind of parade organized by Dr. Finch is so humiliating and infuriating that I don't care.I have been able to deal with such extreme concepts and behaviors with equanimity. "Please help my dad educate all the fathers in America," Hope cried with emotion and impassioned enthusiasm as we passed the crowd of onlookers, "Please join the Worldwide Association of Fathers. Together we can govern good society."

We happened to pass half a dozen Smith freshmen.They leaned against a building, whispering and giggling as our group passed. "You young girls, innocent ladies, how many of you have a strong, mature and hyperactive father? Does any of you want to see my balls?" the doctor asked aloud, with a mischievous expression on his face , a little funny. The smiles of the female college students disappeared immediately, and I saw a little fear in their eyes.No doubt, in spite of all the reminders and warnings they had received, the situation was too much for them to guard against. Next, Dr. Finch whistled and led us on.

Once or twice we were stopped by the police on the road.We were allowed to move on, though, when Dr. Finch showed them his driver's license, proving he was an M.D.It can't help but amaze me, it seems like as long as you're a member of the medical system, you can get out of trouble, red lights all the way. My mother was left behind.She once stood and browsed in the window of a bookstore.She also stopped, went into a shoe store, and tried on a pair of sandals. "What happened to you?" I asked her. "My relationship with Fern is rocky right now. I like her, but she's so phony, too contrived, so predictable, so posturing. She really gives me a headache sometimes. Fern is a traditional kind of woman." "Oh, I don't think she's a whore," I said. "Come on, don't say that about her," my mother said heavily. "That's why her husband, Ed, didn't support Fern and my relationship at all, and that put extra pressure on her. She Refusing to give up his family. However, her family members are all old enough to take care of themselves. I mean, the youngest daughter is about your age." "I see, Deirdre. I want you to get this sorted out." My mother told me to try not to call her Mama, but to call her by her first name.She preferred to think of us as friends rather than a mother and son relationship.Such relationships are healthier and more mature—she told me. "Thank you," she said, "and I hope so." Then, her face brightened, "Did I tell you that one of my poems was selected by American magazine?" The life of Dr. Finch's family is not just a parade. I was lying on the bed alone, listening to the latest hit song "Woman's Summer" while combing my hair slowly.I just washed my hair with KMS brand shampoo.I suddenly heard someone arguing, the voice was very weak and indistinct.It came from another room, and I couldn't help pricking up my ears.I try to ignore the "faster and faster pace, where will I go" in the song, and quickly identify individual quarreling words. "Stupid!" It was Natalie's voice. Immediately afterwards, "Fuck her stupid x!" This is Hope's response. I immediately removed the needle from the turntable and walked out of the room.I crept down the halls, hiding outside their rooms.Appreciating other people's quarrels and even fights is much more enjoyable than listening to "Women's Summer", which cannot be missed anyway, and a smirk appeared on my face. Quarrels are the essence and core of "Sixty-seventh Street."If we say that we are the vineyards that make wine, then quarrel is a rare and precious wine. "No, Hope. It's none of your business. You always think you're the goddamn thing, why? Because you're so poor, you're so miserable!" "Shut up, Natalie. Why are you being so aggressive? What did I do to you? Why do you hate me so much?" Natalie laughed viciously: "You are talking dirty, splashing dirty water, pure self-transfer. You hate me, not I hate you, but you don't admit it, you repressed bitch .” "Why should I not hate you, Natalie?" cried Hope angrily. "Don't come with me to restrain yourself!" Natalie immediately countered. Over the past year or so, my vocabulary in psychology has skyrocketed. In addition to self-transfer and self-restraint, I also know self-repression, active offense, passive defense, neuroticism, depression drugs, tranquilizers, etc. . In addition to calling each other's big names-such as whore and prostitute, the people in Dr. Finch's family also quickly absorbed Freud's division theory of individual psychological development with their strong thirst for knowledge, and collected them to insult each other. in the thesaurus. "You're too tender, you're still in the oral phase, you'll never reach the anal phase. Your best hope is to reach the anal phase, but you're dead! You're an immature, frigid spinster!" Nata Lily screamed. "Don't make it hard for me," Hope said. "Don't take all your anger on me." "Your evasive tactics won't work at all," Natalie reminded her, "I won't let you slip away from me. Don't you have a hatred for me? Then you have to face my questioning! Want to hide? dream!" I look at the grand piano nearby, and I think back to happier times.Just last week, one of Dr. Finch's patients—her name was Hugh, a chronic schizophrenic—accompanied us with soft music while Natalie, Hope, and I stood at the piano and sang: "We Where is your home? It is the most beautiful land..." Hugh will play for us for a long time as long as we want, provided we don't call her by her name.She insisted we call her "Dr. Finch." "You need to talk to Daddy, Natalie. There must be something wrong with you. I'm telling you this because you're my sister and I love you. You need to see Daddy, make an appointment with me first Let's go." I heard Natalie stomping hard.For a while, I worried that she would turn around the stairs and into the living room, because I was sitting on the sofa in the living room, which was to the side of their room.If she sees me and knows I'm bugging, I'm out of luck.Thankfully, her footsteps were loud, but instead of entering the living room, she wrestled her sister down on the sofa. "Okay, bitch, tell me!" "You let me go," Hope said.I could hear her breathing hard, Natalie was a tall, strong girl. "Admit it!" "Natalie, get up, I can't breathe." "Then you go to die." Then there was a silence, and then Hope squeezed his throat and said with difficulty: "Well, well, I hate you. Are you happy now?" "Bah——" Natalie let out a bad breath, "Damn!" She stomped out of the room and went to the stairs, "Shit!" She stood on the stairs and shouted: " You'll never grow up emotionally, ever!" Hope said loudly: "Natalie, I will find a way to get you a restraining order and guard you. You are out of control now, and I will definitely do that." Natalie slammed the door shut. The quarrel is over. If the total score is ten, this fierce battle can only score four points at best.Maybe a quarter and a half.Very much means the police are involved, or someone needs to be committed to a mental institution.The trouble was that in Dr. Finch's house, when a quarrel broke out, no one else took part in it, and I stumbled upon an interesting pattern: the greater the number of people, the more intense the quarrel. Generally speaking, at first there are only two people arguing about small things, such as which TV channel they choose, and then a third person enters the room and sees two people arguing and screaming in front of the TV. They decide to let the third person publish opinion, and to take a clear stand.In this way, if one is not careful, other people will be involved in it unfortunately. In Dr. Finch's house, the best quarrels involved five or more people.But in the end, the arguments would end, the noise would die down, and that would be Dr. Finch.For example, the quarrelsome people will call the doctor, or crowd into his office.This is a hostile and murderous group of fellows who first expel the patient Dr. Finch is seeing in what, some would explain, is a "family crisis."Those patients, whether they were potentially suicidal or had multiple personalities, were moved to an anteroom for a glass of milk or fruit tea.At the same time, Dr. Finch plays the role of judge to resolve the family dispute as soon as possible. Dr. Finch firmly believes that anger is at the root of brain disease.He also believed that unless anger was released, it would destroy a person.This can explain why there are frequent quarrels in his home.Since the scale and intensity of the quarrels were insignificant, he not only encouraged everyone to sing, dance, and skip rope, but also to learn to vent. Anger is like the hamburgers we eat every day. It has a complex structure and rich content, such as introspective anger, repressed anger, misleading anger, angry behavior, and angry words.If people do not deal with their anger properly and in a timely manner, their health will be damaged, and they may even easily die. So, we're constantly yelling at each other, and it's like a competition, and the prize is brain health.Dr. Finch used to say, "Hope has been doing well lately, and she's expressing a healthy dose of anger. I can assure you that she's saying goodbye to the anal phase and entering the next stage of her emotional development—the reproductive phase." I hate her a lot, not only because she is proud of her reserved walk, but also unknowingly, she is far ahead in terms of emotional maturity. Although Dr. Finch is adept at venting his anger with swagger, and his baritone voice alternates between deep and high-pitched voices, which can effectively prevent people from shouting at him, sometimes the doctor himself can be a "healthy outlet" for others. target.Usually, this person is his wife Agnes. Hundreds of years seemed to have passed since Dr. Finch and Agnes were married.When Agnes met Finch, Finch was a young medical student with a dashing look and a bright future.Agnes is a charming, traditional girl who believes in Catholicism.Presumably she married Dr. Finch because she was confused and short-sighted.I'm afraid she never imagined that Dr. Finch would mess up the family into such a situation. Agnes made me think of an old Cadillac that has been recklessly dropped into a deep ditch in the middle of nowhere, with its driver dead, moaning and struggling, but never getting to the ground.Even if the status is prominent, it will not help.Usually, Agnes just stayed in the background, either saying nothing, echoing her voice, or endlessly sweeping the floor or watching TV.She is not the kind of showy type, who seems to be silently hiding in the corner of the stage forever. So it must have been a thrilling blessing to have her pissed off.Also, her anger was usually directed at Dr. Finch. The reason is that Dr. Finch has his own mistress.In fact, the doctor had three mistresses.The doctor likes to declare publicly: "Agnes is only my wife in the legal sense, and emotionally and spiritually, we are not united." Agnes didn't seem to mind much about that, unless the doctor dared to say it to her face.Or, when the doctor said these words, he caught up with his favorite mistress, Miss Geraldine Payne, in the presence. Miss Geraldine Payne was a tall woman, and, among women, she was, for example, the equivalent of a Mercedes.She seemed to me about six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a large face.The word miss doesn't enter my head when she enters the room. The Doctor loves her, adores her, considers her a muse, and has done so for over a decade.He travels with Geraldine, changing motels constantly.Their love is no secret.We used to joke a lot: "Can you imagine Geraldine on top of him? She'd crush the doctor!" Geraldine rarely came to Sixty-seventh Street, except under the cover of holidays or special events.Agnes's expression was very cold, but she was polite.She will never forget that she is the doctor's wife in the true sense, both the first and the chief, irreplaceable. But when Geraldine was gone, Agnes' roar would come through the walls. "I don't care at all? Joke!" Her voice came from the closed bedroom door.Then something thumped against the wall, "I'm your wife, you can't do this to me!" Dr. Finch, who was always laughing and laughing, said Agnes's anger was complete hysteria.His face began to turn red, his eyes watered, and sometimes he simply let others into the room to observe his wife in a hysterical state of rage. "Hope!" he yelled, "Come and see, your mother is having a hysterical fit, it's worth a look!" " Agnes continued to shout, no matter whether someone appeared at the door or not, and looked around.She seemed to revel in crying and laughing, and then, for some reason, she grew quieter.It was pointed out how delirious she looked as she held the bedside table high above her head.Finally, she completely regained her composure and laughed with everyone. One phenomenon that has fascinated me for a long time is: she is always silent, neither humble nor overbearing, maintaining the dignity that a doctor's wife should have.She always said "Dr. Finch" when referring to her husband.Her lips were always painted, even after a fight with Finch, to clean up the turkey carcasses that had been thrown to the ceiling, she could not forget to put on a touch of makeup, bloody red lips, and always. Dr. Finch may also lose his temper with his wife.He would yell all he wanted, and Agnes would totally ignore him.The doctor stood in front of her, wearing baggy shorts, black socks, and black leather shoes, shaking his fists and shouting.Agnes avoided him as much as she could, and went to the fireplace where the candles for Mass before the Virgin Mary stood.Holding the nail clippers, she trimmed the wicks of the candles while humming an aria. Sometimes a fight can have a festive feel. Jeff, the doctor's only biological son, lives in Boston.He kept enough distance from those eccentric family members in Massachusetts.But even so, once he got back to his parents' place, the whole doctor's family would be there, as well as many of the patients—Pubbil's mother, Anne, Dr. Finch's oldest daughter, Kate, and Vicky would come sometimes.And Hope, and Natalie, and my mother, and sometimes the doctor's "worship brother," Father Kimmel, and the priest's "goddaughter," Victoria. If a leg of pork is roasting on the stove, or a turkey is cooking, it usually doesn't take long for the animal's limbs to fly into the air. "That's right, it's because you think you're fucking nice to us and mean enough to us." This was Natalie's loud voice. "Calm down, Natalie. I'm busy up there in Boston. I have work to do." Hope also tries to make Jeff feel guilty. "At least I'll come back to see my dad if I have nothing to do, so I won't torture you to death, right? You don't look like you live in California." "That's right," Annie agreed, "I'm a single mother with a son. Are you trying to say that you're busier than me? Even if you're really busy, you can..."