Chapter 3 Chapter 3

He is not pretty.He should have had his Adam's apple fixed.I'm afraid all the problems are on that piece of cartilage. This thing also has its counterpart.People can't use wishful thinking to explain everything.He never exposed his inner world in front of me.I never heard him talk about his thoughts either.He is even more secretive about his own neck and its many symmetry.He brought sandwiches to school and to the baths, where they were eaten with margarine during lessons and before swimming.It's just another hint at the presence of the rat, which is also chewing along and never getting enough to eat.

He is still praying towards the altar of Our Lady.He had no particular interest in the crucified man. Remarkably, when he crossed his hands, the up and down movement of his Adam's apple didn't disappear, or even stop for a moment.He prayed and swallowed slowly, trying to draw people's attention away from an elevator that was always running with this stylized gesture.This lift is located above shirt collars and pendants tied with strings, shoelaces, and necklaces. He has never had much friendship with girls.Did he ever have a sister?My cousins ​​couldn't help him.His relationship with Tula Pokriefke certainly didn't count, but it was unique, and as a vaudeville--he really wanted to be a clown--it was pretty good.

Tulla was slender, with slender legs, and she could have been a boy.The next summer, when we were urinating on the sunken ship, or lying naked and doing nothing on the rusty deck to save our swimming trunks, this frail little girl who swam with us freely was there We don't feel shy at all in front of us. ①The girl Tulla Pokriefke is also a character in the third part of the Danzig trilogy (1963). Tula's face can be reproduced in a picture made up of periods, commas, and dashes.She must have had webbed membranes between her toes so she could float lightly on the water.Even on the wreck, surrounded by seaweed, seagulls, and slightly sour rust, she still smelled of wood glue, because her father worked with it all day in her uncle's carpenter's shop.She is made of skin, bones and curiosities.Whenever Winter or Esch couldn't bear it any longer and tried their little tricks, Tulla always watched them silently with her chin on her hand.She squatted opposite to Wenter, with a high spine on her back, and she kept complaining: "You guy, you are always so slow."

It took Winter a long time to pull off that little trick each time. When the lump finally flowed out and landed on the rust, Tulla started to get flustered.She crawled on the deck, squinting her eyes, looking, looking, trying to find something in it that no one knew.She squatted for a moment, then stood up lightly on her knees, her legs in an X, her flexible big toes stirring the mass until it frothed rust-red. "Hey! That's great! Ah Ce, you should come here now!" Tulla never tires of this really innocuous game.She begged softly, "Do it again! Who hasn't done it today? Now it's your turn!"

She could always find fools and well-meaning people who would do it even if they had no interest in it at all, so that she would have something to watch.The only person not involved in the matter was Joachim Mark, known for his swimming and diving skills, until Tula found the right words to use the aggressive method.Therefore, it is necessary to describe this game here.When we were alone or in groups—as in the Proverbs of Confession—we were engaged in that biblical activity, and Mark was always in his swimming trunks, looking intently at the peninsula of Hera.We're sure he's doing the same exercise at home, in his own room, between Snow Owl and the Sistine Madonna.He had just come up from the water, shaking as usual, and he hadn't touched anything worth showing off.Schilling has already done it once for Tulla.A coastal motor vessel sails into port under its own power. "Let's do it again!"

Tulla begs Schilling because he does the best job.There was not a single boat in the mooring. "I can't do it after swimming. let's talk tomorrow. Schilling said a few perfunctory words. Tulla turned on his heels, stood on tiptoe, and spread his toes apart, and walked up to Mark. As usual, Mark squatted behind the compass room. Trembling in the shadows, an ocean-going tugboat with a bow cannon sailed out of the port. "Can you do it too? Just do it once. Can't you do it? Don't want to do it? Don't dare to do it?" Mark leaned out half of his body from the shadows, first with the palm of his hand, then the back of his hand, and touched Tula's compact face from the left and right sides.The thing around his neck was bouncing freely.That screwdriver seemed to have gone mad.Of course Tulla would not try to influence him with tears.She pursed her lips, chuckled, rolled over in front of him, stretched her soft limbs, and made a bridge effortlessly, then looked at Mark from between her two thin legs until he —retracting into the shadows again now—said: "All right then! To shut you up." At this point the tug changed course and turned to the northwest.

①Gymnastics term, that is, to bend back and put your hands on the ground. When Mark took off his swimming trunks to his knees, Tulla immediately straightened up, crossed his legs, and squatted there.The children watched the puppet show with wide eyes: Mark made a few movements with his right hand, his little tail stood up, and the glans protruded from the shadow of the compass room to bask in the sun.It wasn't until we all stood in a semicircle around him that Mark's little tumbler retracted into the shadows again. "Let me touch it a little bit, please? Just a touch." Tu La opened his mouth.Mark nodded, lowered his right hand and clenched it into a fist.Tula's two hands that were always scratched touched the thing, and seemed a little at a loss. Under the touch of trembling fingertips, the thing gradually grew larger, blood vessels swelled, and the glans swelled. Take a look.

"Measure him!" cried Jurgen Kupka.Tula stretched out his left hand and measured it: one stroke and then half a stroke. One or two people whispered: "It's thirty centimeters at least." This is of course a bit exaggerated.Among Us, Schilling's little thing is the longest.He was forced to take out the dick, get it erect, and try it out next to Mark.Mark's was not only a size bigger, but about the size of a matchstick, but also looked more mature, more aggressive, and more admirable. He did it again for us, and then again, so that he led the mouse out of its hole twice in a row—that's what we said at the time.Mark stood in front of the crooked railing at the back of the compass room, with his knees slightly bent, staring intently at the navigation buoy in the new channel, and watching the faint smoke from the ocean-going tugboat gradually going away.A "Gull" class torpedo boat sailing out of the port failed to distract his attention.He shows us a profile view of the head from tiptoe gently on the deck to the parted head.It is worth mentioning that the length of his genitals offsets the usually noticeable protruding Adam's apple, giving his posture a moderate, if slightly abnormal, harmony.

As soon as Mark sprayed the first batch of savings over the rail, he immediately began to prepare the second batch.Winter kept time with his water-resistant watch: Mark needed exactly the time it took the outbound torpedo boat to get from the breakwater to the navigation buoy.When the torpedo boat passed the navigation buoy, he fired exactly as much as the first time.They float on calm, occasionally choppy seas.Seagulls swooped on it, screaming for more and more.We laughed so hard. This performance Joachim Marke did not have to repeat, nor did he have to increase the difficulty, because none of us has yet been able to break his record, at least after swimming and strenuous diving.No matter what we do, we follow the rules just like playing sports.

He probably made the most immediate impression on Tula Pokriefke.For a while, she always followed behind him.On the wreck, she was always squatting near the compass room, her eyes fixed on Mark's swimming trunks.She had begged him several times, but he had refused without being angry at all. "Are you going to repent for this?" Mark nodded.To catch her eye, he began to fiddle with the screwdriver tied with shoelaces. "Will you take me down once? I'm scared alone. I bet there must be dead people down there." Mark may have taken Tula into the foredeck of the sunken ship for educational reasons.They had been submerged for so long that when he lifted her up she was all over him, all gray and yellow.We had to quickly turn her lithe, flat body in every way upside down.

After that day Tula Pokriefke seldom went aboard the wreck.She is much more capable than other girls of her age. The immortal legend of the dead sailor in the wreck disturbed us more and more, and became her chief topic of conversation. "Whoever catches him for me will have a chance." This is the reward Tula promised. We all seemed to have dived into the fore-chamber of the wreck.Mark also entered the engine room, although he would not admit it to us.We looked around for a Polish sailor who was almost sea-bubbled, definitely not to try something immature, but just for the sake of looking, that's all. But even Mark failed to find anything except a few rags covered in seaweed.Several sticklebacks popped out of the tattered clothes.The seagulls found something and wished each other a good appetite. No, Mark didn't take a fancy to Tulla, although I heard that she did play with him later.He was not to the girls' liking, and certainly not to Schilling's sister.He used to look at my two cousins ​​from Berlin like a fish.If he had anything to do, it was nothing more than playing tricks with boys.I don't mean to say that Mark is gay. In those years, we often swam between baths and shipwrecks, and no one knew whether we were boys or girls.In fact, in Mark's eyes, if there is a woman, then only the Catholic Virgin Mary can be counted, although there seem to be some rumors and facts that contradict this later.It was only for her that he brought into Notre-Dame everything he could hang around his neck.Everything he did—from the dives to later more military achievements—was for her or—I couldn't justify myself—just to draw attention away from his Adam's apple.In addition to the Virgin Mary and the mouse, a third theme can be cited here: our perfect high school.The musty, poorly ventilated school, and especially the auditorium, were so important to Joachim Mark that they forced you to make a last-ditch effort. Now is the time to tell about Mark's face.There are a few of us who are survivors of the war, living in small cities and big cities, with fat bodies, hair loss, and some money in our pockets.Schilling lives in Duisburg; Jurgen Kupka lives in Braunschweig and recently moved to Canada.As soon as I met them, they immediately talked about the Adam's apple: "Oh, he has a big thing on his neck. We put a cat in front of him, or do you put the cat on his neck " I hurriedly interrupted them: "I don't want to mention these, just talk about that face." We tentatively agreed that his eyes were gray, or gray-blue, not brown anyway, bright but not glowing.The face is long and thin, with strong muscles around the cheekbones.The nose was not too big, but fleshy, and it would quickly turn red in cold weather.The protruding back of the head was mentioned earlier.It's hard to come to a consensus on Mark's upper lip.Jürgen Kupka agrees with me: it turns outwards and cannot cover the upper two front teeth, which are also not straight, they are slanted to the sides like the tusks of a wild boar - when diving Except of course. However, we were also a bit skeptical, since we remembered that Tula's upper lip was also turned outwards, and the front teeth were always exposed.In the end, we still can't be sure if Mark was confused with Tulla in the case of the upper lip.Perhaps only Tula's upper lip was turned outward, because she did have an upper lip turned outward. Schilling lives in Duisburg.Since his wife was not satisfied with the walk-in visit, we had to meet at the snack bar in front of the train station.He reminded me of the cartoon that once caused a row in our class that lasted several days.Around 1941, there came a tall guy in our class who stuttered but was eloquent.Their whole family immigrated from the three countries on the east coast of the Baltic Sea.He was of noble birth, his father a baron.He dresses smartly, speaks Greek, talks volubly, and wears a fur hat in winter.What's his last name?Anyway, the name is Carlisle. He was good at drawing, very fast, and could follow a pattern or not.Horse-drawn sleighs surrounded by wolves; drunken Cossack cavalrymen; Jews like out of Vanguard magazine; Not obscene; Bolsheviks tearing up children with their teeth; Hitler in Charlemagne costume; ladies' cars at the wheel, long shawls fluttering in the wind.He can quickly and proficiently draw caricatures of teachers and classmates, or draw on any piece of paper with a paintbrush, pen and red pencil, or draw on a blackboard with chalk.Mark's portrait must have been drawn not on paper with a red pencil, but on the blackboard in the classroom with squeaky teaching chalk. ① The three countries on the east coast of the Baltic Sea refer to Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania. ②An anti-Semitic publication run by the Nazi Party between 1923 and 1945 often published satirical cartoons that vilified Jews. ③ Charlemagne (742-814), King of the Franks (766-814), German Holy Roman Emperor (800-814). He painted a frontal portrait.Mark had already traded in the artificial center part, held in place with sugar water, by this time. He drew Mark's face as a triangle with a pointed chin and a tight mouth.He didn't draw the two exposed front teeth that looked like wild boar tusks.The eyes were two striking dots, and the eyebrows were raised painfully.The neck is drawn slightly distorted, almost in profile, so as to accentuate the monstrosity created by the Adam's apple.Behind the head and pained expression is a circle of light: the savior Mark is flawless and eternally attractive. We sat on the bench and laughed so loudly that we didn't wake up until someone grabbed the skirt of the beautiful Carlyle.The man first rushed onto the podium with his bare hands, and then tore off the stainless steel screwdriver from his neck to fight.We managed to separate the two. I was the one who erased that messianic picture of you on the chalkboard with a sponge.