Chapter 11 little john nine

John sat a long time and waited.The air was cold, and large clouds approached the ground, floating endlessly and endlessly.They unfurl their dark gray, rippling mantles, and still curl their haughty peaks in the clear light, in which they shine.The light and shadows on the trees changed with strange rapidity, like a fire that was always blazing.John was then terrified; he pondered the book, and could not believe it, but hoped that he would find it today.In the middle of Vietnam, it was very high, strangely high, and he saw the clear and solid blue, above which spread peacefully in the unmoving tranquility, and the soft, white clouds were exquisitely velvety.

"It has to be like this," he thought, "so high, so bright, and so quiet." So Rong'er came.However, the red slug came differently. "Just right, John," she cried, "you can come and read the book." "Where is the red squirrel?" John asked hesitantly. "No, we didn't take a walk." He walked together, constantly thinking to himself: That can't be——that can't be like this—everything should be different. Yet he followed the brilliant blond hair that shone before him. Alas, since then, little John has been sad.I hope his story ends here.Have you ever dreamed disgustingly of a magic garden with flowers and animals who love and talk to you?So you have that awareness in the dream that you're going to wake up and lose all the beauty?So you try in vain to hold on to it, and you don't want to look at the cold dawn.

It was the feeling John had lurked when he went in together. He came to a house, a path that echoed his steps.He smelled clothes and food, and he thought of the long days he would have been at home—of schoolwork, of everything that was dark and cold in his life. He came to a room with people.He didn't see how many people there were.They were chatting, but when he entered there was silence.He stared at the carpet, which had a large and impossible pattern with some harsh colors.The colors are all special and different, just like the ones at home in his little house. "Is this the gardener's boy?" said a voice addressing him. "Just come in, kid, you don't need to be afraid."

Another voice suddenly sounded near him: "Well, Xiao Rong, you have a good baby." What does all this mean?Deep wrinkles formed again on John's dark childish eyes, and he looked around in confusion and horror. Over there sat a man in black, looking at him with cold, stern eyes. "Do you want to learn the book of books? I am surprised that your father, the gardener, who I thought was a pious man, has not given this to you." "He's not my father—he's far off." "Well, that's the same.—Look, my boy! Read this often, and it's going to be in your life..."

John already recognized the book.He can't get that one like that either, it should be totally different.He shook his head. "No, no! It's not the one I thought it was. I know it's not the one!" He heard voices of astonishment, and he also felt stares stabbing at him from all sides. "What? What are you thinking, little man?" "I know that book. It's a human book. But this one is not enough, otherwise human beings would be peaceful and peaceful. It's not. I'm thinking of something different. When people read it, no one can read it." Doubt. It is there to remember why everything is the way it is, as it is, clearly and distinctly.”

"Is this possible? Where did the child's words come from?" "Who taught you, kid?" "I believe, you have read the evil book, child, let's talk nonsense according to it." Several voices were heard in this way, and John felt his face heat up,—he was going to be dizzy—the house was spinning, and the large flowers on the carpet were floating up and down.Where was the mouse that had so faithfully admonished him at school the other day?He could use it now. "I didn't talk nonsense from books, and that taught me is worth more than your whole class. I know the words of flowers and animals, and I am their confidant. I understand what human beings are and how they live I know all the secrets of goblins and goblins, because they love me more than humans."

Around and behind him, John could hear sniggering and uproarious laughter.In his ears, chanting and moaning arose. "He seems to have read Anderson 1." "He's not very old anymore." Said to the man who was facing him: "If you knew Anderson, boy, you'd have a little more of his fear of God and his words." "God!" He knew the word, and he thought of what Xuan'er said. "I have no fear of God. God is a great kerosene lamp through which thousands go astray and perish." There was no laughter, but a terrible silence, mingled with revulsion and terror.John felt a piercing look on his back.That was, just like in his dream last night.

The man in black stood up and grabbed his arm.He ached, and almost succumbed to courage. "Listen, my boy, I don't know, whether you're lost, or all ruined—such blasphemy God can't bear with me.—Get out, and come out of my sight again , I said. Do you understand?" All eyes are cold and hostile, just like that night. John looked around in horror. "Rong'er! Where is Rong'er?" "Yes, my baby is going to be ruined!--be careful, you must never speak to her!" "No, let me go to her! I don't want to leave her. Rong'er, Rong'er!" John cried.

But she sat in the corner of the room in terror, not raising her eyes. "Go away, you bastard! You won't listen! You don't deserve to come again!" And that painful grip, carrying him through the reverberating path, the glass door slammed shut—John standing outside under the dark, low-hanging clouds. He stopped crying, and gazed quietly ahead as he walked slowly forward.The dark lines over his eyes were also deeper and never lost. The red cockatiel sat in a linden grove and peeped at him.He stood still, silently returning his gaze.But trust was no longer seen in its timid, reconnaissance little eyes, and the nimble little creature flapped away as he took a step closer.

"Let's go! Let's go! Alone!" The sparrows sitting on the garden road chirped and flew away. The blooming flowers no longer smile, but they stare solemnly and indifferently, just like facing all strangers. But John paid no attention to these things, he thought only of the insult the people had given him; it seemed to him that some cold, hard hand had soiled his innermost being. "They must trust me," thought he, "I will take my spoon and show them." "John! John!" cried a crisp little voice.There was a little nest in a holly tree in that place, and Jiang Zhi's big eyes were looking out from the edge of the nest. "Where are you going?"

"It's all your fault, you will know!" John said. "Leave me alone." "Why do you talk to humans? Humans don't understand you. Why do you tell such things to humans? You are really stupid!" "They laughed at me and gave me pain. It's all cheap stuff; I hate them." "No, John, you love them." "No! No!" "They're not like you, so it's less painful to you—their words are nothing to you. You need to be less concerned about human beings." "I want my spoon. I'm going to show them this." "You don't have to do it, they don't believe you anyway. What's the use?" "I want my spoon under the rose bush. Do you know how to find it?" "Yeah!—by the pool, isn't it? Yes, I know it." "Then lead me there, you will know!" Putting his hands on John's shoulders, he told him the way.All day they ran,--the wind blew and the rain sometimes raged, but in the evening the clouds were calm and stretched out in long streaks of gold and gray. When they came to Shagang, which John knew, his heart softened, and he whispered each time: "Xuan'er, Xuan'er." This was the rabbit hole--and the sand-hill, on which he had slept once.The gray deer moss was soft and wet and did not buckle under his feet.After the roses have finished blooming, hundreds of yellow moonflowers stick out their calyx with their intoxicating fragrance.The long and proud king candle flowers stretched higher, and their thick hairy leaves. John studied the fine hazel branches of the rosebush. "Where is it, Lord? I can't see it." "Then I don't know," Jiang Zhi said, "you hid the spoon, not me." The place where roses once bloomed is already full of fields of yellow fragrance under the moon looking up indifferently.John asked about them, and Wang Zhu; but they were too arrogant, because their long flowers were taller than him,—John also asked about the tricolor lilies in the sand. But no one knew anything about Rose.All of them are from this summer.Not only Wang Zhu with such a high conceit. "Well, where is it? Where is it?" "So, you lied to me too?" Jiang Zhi said, "I've thought of this a long time ago, human beings are always like this." He slipped off John's shoulders and ran away among the grass. John looked around in despair--there stood a small bush of hill roses. "Where's the big rose?" John asked. "The big one, the one that stood here before?" "We don't talk to humans," said Cong.This was the last time he heard it—everything around was silent, only the reed leaves rustled in the slight evening wind. "Am I alone," thought John. "No, it can't be, it can't be. I don't want to be human. I hate human beings." He was tired, and his spirits were dulled.He sat on the edge of the small grass, on the soft moss that exudes a wet and strong breath. "I can't go back, and I can't see Rong'er again. Where is my Shao'er? Where is Xuan'er? Why do I have to leave Rong'er? I can't live without her. Will I die? I must live, and be alone—like the others, the one who laughs at me?" Then he suddenly saw the two white butterflies again; they were flying towards him from the direction of the sun.He nervously followed their flutters to see if they would show him the way.They flew over his head, approached each other, and then separated again, circling in pleasant play.They slowly moved away from the sun, and finally drifted over the edge of the hill into the woods.The woods were only at their tallest peaks, glowing in the evening light that flashed red and bright from beneath the long column of clouds. John followed them.But when they flew over the first row of trees, he noticed how a dark shadow was chasing the sound of the flapping wings, and grabbed them, and in an instant, they disappeared.The black shadow shot at him quickly, and he covered his face with his hands in horror. "Oh, child! Why are you sitting here crying?" A sharp mocking voice sounded close to him.John had seen it first, like a big black bat running towards him, and when he looked up, there stood a little black man, finitely bigger than himself.He has a big head with big ears, darkly upturned in the bright evening sky, a thin body and thin legs.From his face John saw only tiny twinkling eyes. "Have you lost something, kid? Then I'd like to help you find it," he said. But John shook his head silently. "Look, do you want this from me?" She began, spreading her hands.John saw something white on it, moving from time to time.It was the white butterfly, dying, with little torn and broken wings quivering.John felt a shudder, as if someone had blown him from behind, and looked up at the strange creature in horror. "Who are you?" he asked. "Do you want to know my name, kid? Then, you just call me Chuan Chuan, which is really Chuu Chuan. Although I have a more beautiful name, you don't understand it." "Are you alone?" "Listen! I have arms and legs and a head--look what a head!--and the boy asks me if I'm alone! But, John, John!" the little man continued babbling. The babbling voice laughed. "How do you know who I am?" John asked. "Well, that's easy for me. I know a lot more. I know where you come from and what you're doing here, too. I know a wacky amount of everything." "Oh, Mr. Piercing..." "Pierce, penetrate, don't be shy." "You also know...?" But John suddenly fell silent. "He's a human being," he thought. "You miss your spoon? It must be!" "But I thought to myself, humans can't know that." "Confused child! General knowledge has leaked a lot." "Then you also met Jiang Zhi?" "Oh, yes! He's one of my best friends--and that's a lot of me. But I know it without knowing it. I know more than I know. A good boy, But stupid, extremely stupid. I'm not! Not at all." Chu Chuan and used his thin and small hands to masturbate his big head. "You know, John," he went on, "what's the great fault of knowing? But you must never tell him, or he'll be very angry." "So, what is it?" John asked. "He doesn't exist at all. It's a big flaw, and he doesn't approve of it, and he says I don't exist. But that's his lie. Am I here! A thousand more times!" Chuanzhuo stuffed Hu Die into his pocket, and suddenly stood upside down in front of John.So he put on a disgusting grin, and stuck out a long tongue.John, who was already sad, that evening, on the sand-hill with such a strange thing, was trembling with terror. "It's a very suitable way to observe the world," Chuan Qiao said, still standing on his head. "I'll teach you, too, if you want. Seeing everything is clearer and more natural." He opened and closed his slender legs in the air, and rotated his hands in all directions.When the red sunset light fell on the upside-down face, John thought it was disgusting--small eyes squinted in the light, and the whites of the eyes were usually invisible. "You see, the clouds are like the ground, and the ground is like the roof of the world. On the contrary, it is also very tenable. There is neither up nor down. There may be a more beautiful playground in the clouds." John looked up at the rolling cloud.It was, he thought, rather like a winged field with a red border gushing with blood.On the sea, the high gate of the Dongfu is shining with clouds. "Can a man go there and go in?" he asked. "Unconscious!" Chuanqiu said, and what reassured John was that he suddenly stood on two feet again. "Unconscious! If you were there, it would be exactly the same as here—perhaps it would seem that the splendor is a little further away. In that beautiful cloud, it's dark and gray and cold." "I don't believe you," said John, "that's when I see that you're alone." "Go! You don't believe me, sweet boy, because I'm alone? And you—you or something else?" "Oh Chuanzhuo, am I alone?" "What do you think, a goblin? Goblins are not loved." Chuan Zhuo sat in front of John with his legs crossed, and stared at him intently with a strange smile.Under this gaze, John felt unspeakably bewildered and disturbed, and wanted to hide or disappear.But he could no longer turn an eye. "Only humans are loved, John! Listen! And it's perfectly justified, otherwise they might not exist. You're too young to be loved beyond the ears. Who are you thinking about?" "Miss Rong Er," John whispered, almost inaudibly. "Who do you admire most?" "To Rong'er." "You think you can't live without someone?" "To Rong'er." John's lips said softly, "Rong'er." "Oh, boy," Zhuan Zhuo suppressed a smile, "Why do you imagine that you are a goblin? Goblins don't love human children." "But she is Xuan'er..." John murmured in panic. Chu Chuan then stared at him with distaste and affectation, and pinched John's ears with his Guli hands. "What kind of unconsciousness is this? Are you going to scare me with that stupid thing? He's far more foolish than Jiangzhi - far more foolish. He doesn't understand at all, and the worst thing is that he doesn't really exist, And I didn't exist either. Only I exist, you understand?—and if you don't believe me, I'm going to make you feel that I am here." He also shook poor John's ear vigorously."But I've known him long and have traveled far with him!" exclaimed John. "You dreamed, I say. Where's your rosebush and your spoon, say?—but you don't dream now, do you understand?" "Oh!" shouted John, for Chuuchu was pinching him. It was already dark, and bats were flying around their heads, screaming harshly.The sky is dark and heavy,—not a leaf rustles in the woods. "Can I go home?" John begged. "To my father?" "Your father? What are you going to do there?" Zhuan Qiao asked. "After you have been away so long, you will be greeted dearly." "I miss home," said John, thinking of the brightly lit room where he used to sit near his father and listen to the sound of his pen.There is peace and comfort. "Yeah, you don't have to go away and go out because of the love of stupidity that doesn't exist. It's too late now. And it's nothing, I'll take care of you long ago. I'll do it, or It's always one thing for your father to do it. Such a father is but an imagination. You probably chose him for yourself? You don't think there's another one that's as good and as clear. I'm just as good, and much, much better." John didn't have the courage to answer; he closed his eyes and nodded wearily. "And you don't have to look for this Rong'er," Chuan Qiao continued.He put his hand on John's shoulder, and whispered into his ear, "That child, like the others, leads you to the fool's rope. You don't see how she sits in the corner when people laugh and scold you." , and don't say a word? She is no better than others. She thinks well of you, and plays with you, just like she plays with a gold bug. She doesn't care if you go away, and she doesn't care. Know the book. But I—I know where the book is, and I'm going to help you find it. I know almost everything." John believed he was up. "Are you going with me, are you willing to seek with me?" "I'm sleepy," said John, "give me someplace to sleep." "I've never liked this sleep," Chuan Chiu said. "I'm too active in this layer. A person should always be awake and thinking. But I'm going to give you some quiet.—See you tomorrow morning!" Then he made the gesture of friendship which he had just learned to do.John stared into the small twinkling eyes until he saw nothing else.His head was heavy, and he leaned on the mossy hillside.It seemed that the little eyes were blinking farther and farther away, and then they were like stars in a dark sky.He seemed to hear distant voices, and the ground receded far below him... and his thoughts stopped. -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ 1. H.Ch.Andersen (1805-1875), a famous fairy tale writer, Danish. (Today’s general translation of Andersen.——Bone Note.) 2. Pleuzer, German translation of Klauber, can also be translated as picker, blower, nitpicker, etc.