Chapter 12 7-1

It's a fairly rare name but sounds eerily familiar.Inherited from my father and nurtured over the years, it only takes me a second to figure out where and where the name comes from. "This is the name of one of the cats in (Old Possum's Book of Pratical Cats), a collection of poems by TSEliot." "Most of these cats liked the names in Eliot's book." "These cats?" "A new breed of cat like Montgomery." "New breed of cat?" I struggled to understand what he meant. Roosevelt evaded the definition of the term, saying only flatly: "They prefer those names. But I can't tell you why—or how they got them. I also know a cat named Ron Tantag .The other one is called Ron Pei Tezer. And Koli Koba and Grotiger."

"Prefer it? Listen to your tone as if they named themselves." "Roughly so," Roosevelt replied. I couldn't help shaking my head. "so funny." "Although I've been working with animals for many years," Roosevelt said, "sometimes I can't believe it myself." "Bobby. Holloway says your head probably got smashed when you were young." Roosevelt smiled and replied: "He is not the only one who thinks so. But, you have to understand, I am a football player, not a boxer. So what do you think? Chris? You also think half of my head is full of paste ?"

"I don't think so, sir," I confessed. "You're as smart as anyone I know." "Furthermore, cleverness and absurdity are not two different things, don't you think?" "I know that many of my parents' colleagues in academia will argue with you about that." Montgodgelly continued to watch us from the living room, and Ourson showed great interest in it instead of the strong hostility of a dew mountain dog towards a cat. "Did I mention to you how I got my start as an animal communicator?" Roosevelt asked me. "No, sir. I never asked you that question." I feel that pointing out someone's weirdness is as rude as pointing out someone's physical disability, so I always pretend to accept his penchant, even though I'm deeply disapproving. .

"This incident," he recounted, "happened about nine years ago. I had a really wonderful dog at the time named Srubby. Deep black fur and about the size of your Orson." Mudo. Although it is only a mongrel dog, it is very special." Ourson turned his attention from the cat on the couch to Roosevelt's face. "Srabby has a very docile temperament. He was a playful, good-natured dog, and every day was a happy day for him. Then, suddenly, his temperament changed, and he became timid and easy Nervous, even seriously depressed. He was ten years old by then and was no longer a frisky puppy, so I took him to the vet, terrified of hearing the last diagnosis I wanted to hear. Turns out the vet Couldn't find anything wrong with it. Slaby had a mild form of arthritis, which is best known to older football defenders, but it apparently hardly affected his movement, and that was the only problem that came out. As the days passed, it became more and more depressing."

At this moment Montgodelli began to move.It crawled from the arm of the couch to the back of the couch, then stalked us. "So one day," Roosevelt continued, "I read a supplement in the paper about a woman in Los Angeles who called herself an animal communicator. Her name was Gloria Chen. She had been to The TV talk show, provided pet porters to many people, and started writing a book. The reporter of that article made Glori like a Hollywood movie star. I think he must have taken advantage of it. Do you remember? ?After I left football, I did a few films. In that time, I met countless socialites, actors, rock singers, and comedians, as well as quite a few directors and producers. Some of them were pretty good, some of them Very intelligent people, but honestly, many of them, and most of the people they hang out with, are frighteningly insane, and if you don't have a powerful weapon with you, you'd better not hang out with them."

After slowly crawling across the back of the long sofa, Maopu jumped to the arm of the sofa near our side.He crouched suddenly, his muscles tensed, his head bowed and his neck forward, his ears flat on his head, as if he was about to leap across a six-foot gap, from the couch to the dining table. Olson became alert, and his attention was fully focused on Montgodelli, as if Roosevelt and dog biscuits had been forgotten. "I had some business in Los Angeles," Roosevelt said, "so I took Srabbi with me, and we went down in a boat and cruised along the coast before I bought the Nostromo. I drove A handsome sixty ft chris fine yacht, docked at Marina del Rey, rented a car, spent two days on business. I got Glo from some showbiz friends Lee called, and she readily agreed to meet with me. So I found a day and drove to her place in Palisades with Srabbi."

The cat on the armrest of the sofa is still squatting, ready to jump, and its muscles are more tense than before.Yan Ran looks like a little gray leopard. Orson was stiff and motionless like a cat.It made a high-pitched, irritated noise at first, and then fell silent. Roosevelt went on to say: "Glory is a fourth-generation Chinese American. She is petite and looks like a doll. She is beautiful, really beautiful. Beautiful features, big watery eyes. Like China’s Michelangelo carved Gongwu Rong from crystal clear topaz. People who saw her would think that her voice must be like a little girl’s, but she has Luo Rong. Lauren Bacall ) voice, I didn’t expect this petite woman to have such a deep and magnetic voice. Srabbi immediately became familiar with her, and before I recovered, it was already sitting safely on her lap. She Face to face with it, talk to it, pat it, and she'll tell me exactly why it's down."

Montgodelli jumped up from his chair, but instead of onto the table, he jumped onto the deck. Then, with lightning speed, he jumped from the deck to the seat I had just left to stare at it.Ourson and I involuntarily twitched as the sprightly cat jumped onto the seat.Montgodjelly stood on his back on the chair and his front feet on the dining table, staring intently at my dog. Ourson let out another short, sharp, angry cry—and fixed his eyes on the cat. Ignoring Montgomery's actions, Roosevelt continued: "Glory said that Srabbi was very frustrated, mainly because I had no time to accompany him at all. 'You always go out with Helen.' She said. 'And Srabbi knew Helen didn't like it at all. It felt you had to choose between it and Helen sooner or later, and it knew you had to choose Helen.' When I heard this, boy, my whole Everyone was stunned, because I was indeed dating a girl named Helen in Moonlight Bay at that time, and it was absolutely impossible for Glory to know about it anyway. To be honest, I was really fascinated by Helen at that time, Whenever I have free time, I spend time with Helen, and she really doesn’t like dogs, so Srabbi is always ignored by us. I thought she would gradually like Srabbi, because I believe that even the hard-hearted Hitler would I was moved by this little mongrel dog. As a result, Helen was always resentful of him, and me too, but I was kept in the dark."

Montgomery stared at Olsen desperately, baring his teeth in protest.Orson sat up straight in his chair, lest the cat should jump on him unexpectedly. "Then Gloria told me a few more things about Slabby. One of them had to do with my new Ford pickup truck. Even though he had mild arthritis, the poor dog couldn't get in and out of a regular sedan. Getting in and out of the truck, he was terrified of accidentally falling and breaking a bone." The cat hissed, still showing its fangs not to be outdone.Ourson shuddered and let out a timid high-pitched sound that sounded like steam from a boiling teapot.

Roosevelt, apparently completely oblivious to the cat-dog battle that was unfolding, focused on telling his story: "Glory and I had lunch that day, and we talked all afternoon about animal communication. Skills. She told me that she doesn’t have any special talent, and animal communication is not a trick of psychics, but everyone’s innate keen perception of animals, but people usually suppress this potential. She said anyone could do it, and I could do it, if I just put in the time to learn the ropes. I thought her statement was ridiculous at the time." Montgomery's growls got more and more ferocious, and Olson gave another shake of fright, and then I swear I saw the cat smile with satisfaction, at least as close as a cat could give a smile.Oddly enough, Orson was also smiling with a large row of teeth - no need to use imagination, because every dog ​​smiles with teeth.He panted happily, showing his teeth and smiling at the smiling cat, as if their confrontation was a game from beginning to end.

"Let me ask you, who doesn't want to learn this stuff?" Roosevelt said. "Yeah, who doesn't want to learn?" I replied absently. "So Gloria decided to teach me, and it took a long time, months and months; finally, I learned as well as she did. The first big challenge was to believe that I could do it ...put aside your doubts, contempt, and your old definitions of what's possible and what's not possible. Most importantly, and most difficult, is to let go of the fear of looking like an idiot, because the more you fear being humiliated, the more you The more you can’t give full play to your potential. Many people can’t pass this level, but I can do it, even I am surprised.” Olson sat in a chair, leaned forward towards the table, and bared his canines in protest at Montgodelli.The cat's eyes widened in fright, showing a very frightened expression.Orson gritted his teeth at the cat with a silent but menacing air. Roosevelt expressed his sadness: "Srabbi passed away three years later. God knows how sad I am to lose him. But it was indeed a wonderful and magical three years. We are so compatible with each other." Olsen still bared his teeth not to be outdone, and growled at Montgodelli in a low voice.The cat moaned imploringly.Olsen growled again, and the cat was too scared to let out a pathetic forward-meow sound—then the two of them grinned at each other again. "What the hell is going on?" I said inexplicably. Ourson and Montgodelli also seemed puzzled by my trembling and nervous tone. "They were just playing," Roosevelt said. I winked at him.In the candlelight, his face glowed like polished dark teak. "Playing with the stereotypes people have about their relationship," he explained. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, I must have misheard him completely, it looked like I should have rinsed my ears with a high pressure water jet and then scraped them clean with the electrician's hose coil. "A joke about the stereotype of their relationship?" "Yes, it's not bad at all." He nodded up and down in an affirmative tone. "Of course, they don't say that themselves, but that's how they behave. Dogs and cats are supposed to be incompatible, and these two guys just play around with that stereotype." Now even Roosevelt joins cats and dogs in grinning at me.His dark red lips were so red they looked almost black, and his teeth were as white as sugar cubes. "Sir," I told him disapprovingly, "I take back what I said earlier. After careful consideration, I think that you are hopelessly insane, and quite queer. " He nods his head up and down and continues to grin at me.Then, for a moment, a hideous expression appeared on his face like a black moon emitting black light.He said bitterly: "If I were white, you wouldn't have any goddamn reason not to believe what I said." On the dining table, almost knocked the coffee cup off the saucer. If I could have sat backwards in my chair, I would have done so without hesitation.Because his accusations were as shocking as a bolt from the blue.Growing up, I never heard my parents utter a slang term that demeaned another race, or make any racist remarks. I was raised to be non-discriminatory.Honestly, if there is ever an extreme outlier in the world, it's me.I am a minority myself, a minority with a single population: Midnight Stranger, as I was often called by the little Taibao when I was a child, long before I met Bobby and Sasha.Although I am not fair and my skin color is normal, in the eyes of many people, I will always be a freak, stranger than the dog-faced boy Bobo.To some people I am an unclean figure, as if my inheritance of UV inability is transmitted to them through a sneeze.Others hated and feared me, as if I were more terrifying than the three-eyed monsters you see in carnival parades just because I live next door to them. Roosevelt stood up slightly from his seat, leaned over the table, swung his fist as big as a cantaloupe, and yelled bitterly in a tone that shocked and disgusted me: "Racist! You race Discriminatory bastard boy!" I can barely speak: "When did I... when did I care about racial differences? How could I care about racial differences? " He looked at me fiercely, as if he was going to go over the table at any moment, grab me from the chair, and pinch me until his tongue touched the ground.He showed his teeth and barked at me like a dog A growling sound, which sounds very much like a dog barking, literally a dog barking. "What the hell is going on?" I was already confused because I actually asked the cat and dog sitting nearby. Roosevelt yelled at me again, and I just stared at him dumbfounded, not knowing what to do.He said defiantly, "Come on, boy. If you can't swear, at least give me some yelling. Come on, yell. Come on, boy. I know you can." Olsen and Montgomery looked at me expectantly. Roosevelt yelled at me again, with an extra threatening sound effect at the end, and I finally couldn't help but yell back at him.Then he yelled louder than before, and I yelled louder not to be outdone. With a sudden smile on his face, he said: "There is no incompatibility, dogs and cats, black and white, just kidding with secular stereotypes." When Roosevelt sat back in his chair, my original confusion suddenly resolved and turned into a throbbing of surprise.I felt a great inspiration, an inspiration that will touch my heart forever, and it allowed me to experience worlds I had never imagined before.However, no matter how hard I try to grasp this feeling, it still stands tall and vague in the distance that I can't figure out. I looked into Orson's black, watery eyes.Then I looked at Montgodelli. It bared its fangs at me.Orson bared his canines at me too.To paraphrase the bard of Avon ("the Bard Of Avon", that is, Shakespeare), a vague fear ran through my veins coldly, not because of fear of being bitten by cats and dogs, but because of this game with burning teeth. Hidden hints behind.It wasn't just fear that trembled inside me, but a burst of amazed surprise. Although he was not the type to do such a thing, I couldn't help but wonder if Roosevelt had tampered with the coffee, not the brandy, but the hallucinogen.I felt more dazed and lucid at the same time than ever before, as if in a highly conscious state of lucidity. The cat yelled at me, and I yelled at the cat.Orson yelled at me, and I yelled at Orson. In one of the most amazing moments of my life, humans and beasts sitting around a dinner table, grinning at each other, I was reminded of a once-favorite cute but corny picture of dogs playing bridge .Of course, there was only one dog among us, and none of us had cards, so my associations don't really fit the situation at the moment, but the longer I've been with them, the closer I've been to epiphany, and the last few minutes What happened and what it meant became more and more apparent. My train of thought was immediately interrupted by the beeping siren of the electronic security device next to the dining table. When Roosevelt and I looked back at the monitor screen, the four display areas on the screen had been combined into one.The lens of the autofocus magnifying device is aimed at the intruder, showing the image of the other party in the strange light of the night vision goggles. In the thick fog, our visitor stands on the top of the pier where the Nostromo is moored.It looked like a monster flown straight from the time of the Phrases to our own, about four feet tall, with a pterodactyl likeness, and a long, sinister, pointed beak. My mind was so full of wild speculations about the dog and cat, and all the horrors of the night, that I had an automatic tendency to see ordinary things as monstrosities, even when there was no such thing.My heart beat faster and my mouth felt bitter and dry.If I hadn't been startled suddenly, I might have fallen from my chair to the floor.If I had delayed for another five seconds, I would probably have made a move that I would embarrass myself afterwards, but Roosevelt's composure saved me.If it's not that he's naturally calmer than me, it's that he's seen too many earth-shattering scenes and won't be surprised, so he can distinguish whether it's a real monster or a false alarm in a very short period of time. "It's the blue heron," he said. "Come here and catch some fish for your supper." The giant blue heron, like other birds in Moonlight Bay, is no stranger to me.It was only because of Roosevelt that I recognized its appearance. (Please cancel the phone call with director Spielberg, there is nothing to make a movie about here.) My self-righteous explanation is that although this blue heron has elegant posture and movements, it has a kind of evil murderous look and the cold eyes of reptiles in the dinosaur era.This heron stands on the apex of the pier, peering down towards the water.Suddenly, it leaned forward, its head dropped, its long beak plunged into the water, picked up a small fish, then swung its head back and swallowed the fish. To die is to live. Thinking that I blindly attached supernatural qualities to this ordinary blue heron in a haste, I couldn't help but began to wonder whether I was also suspected of over-exaggerating the importance of the cat-dog battle just now.What was once certain became doubtful again.The great wave of epiphany had just risen, and before it broke through, it subsided without any problem, leaving waves of doubts to hit me. Roosevelt spoke, and my attention shifted to what he had to say. "Since Gloria taught me animal communication skills, my life has become indescribably colorful. The trick is actually very simple, that is, to listen to the voice of the universe." "Listen to the voice of the universe..." I muttered to myself, wondering if Bobby would continue to spout out gimmicky satirical remarks if he heard this sentence.Maybe the monkey thing has done permanent damage to his irony and skepticism, but I hope not.Although change is the constant law of the universe, some things are destined not to change over time. Bobby's attitude towards life that insists that life should only include the basic elements of sand, waves and sunshine is an example. "Over the years, I've been very happy to have these animal friends come to me." Roosevelt said calmly, speaking like a veterinarian reminiscing before retiring. He reached out and gently stroked Montgogeli's head, scratching Its ears. The cat is leaning coquettishly in his big hand and purring." However, these new breeds of cats I have encountered in the past two years... have given me an exciting new experience in animal communication. . "He turned to Orson and said: 'And I'm sure you're as much fun as these cats are. " Olson panted with his mouth wide open, sticking out his tongue, pretending to be a standard dumb dog. "Listen, dog, you can't fool me." Roosevelt said to it in an affirmative tone. "After watching the game you played with the cat just now, I don't think you need to pretend anymore." Olson ignored Montgodjeli and concentrated on the three dog biscuits on the table in front of him. "You can act like a gluttonous dog and act like you don't want anything in the world but these delicious dog biscuits, but I know that's not who you are." Orson stared intently at the biscuit and moaned eagerly. Roosevelt said, "You brought Chris here the first time. Why did you come if you didn't want to talk?" On Christmas Eve more than two years ago, and less than a month before my mother passed away, Orson and I were wandering around at night as usual when he was just a one-year-old puppy, showing lively love Playful by nature, but never overactive like a typical puppy. However, at only one year old, it often cannot control its curiosity and is not as disciplined as it is now.We were on the basketball court behind the high school, and I was with my dog, and I went there to shoot hoops.I told Orson to say Michael.Jordan should be thankful that I was born with XP syndrome and couldn't play under the lights. Before it was too late, Little Olson suddenly ran up from me.I kept calling it's name, but it just stopped and looked back at me, and then continued to run forward with big strides.By the time I found out it wouldn't turn back, I didn't even have time to tuck the ball into the bag strapped to the handlebars of the bike.I pedaled behind the furry little bastard, and it took me on a wild chase, from street to lane to street, across Quest Park, all the way to Marina Harbour, and finally along Take me to the Nostromo by the pier.He never liked to bark, but that night when he jumped straight from the pier onto the poop deck, he barked wildly.When I slammed on the brakes on the wet floor of the pier, Roosevelt had already stepped out of the boat to appease Ourson. "You want to talk to me," Roosevelt said now to Ourson. "You came here to talk, but I suspect you simply don't trust me." Olsen kept his head down, staring at the biscuit helplessly. "Even after two years, you still suspect that I have a connection with those people in Fort Werwin, so you deliberately pretend to be a dog until one day you feel that you can trust me." Olsen sniffed the biscuit and licked the table around the biscuit, as if he didn't know that someone was talking to it. Roosevelt turned his attention to me. He said to me: "These new breeds of cats, they all come from Fort Werven. Some are the first generation, the first to escape, and some are the second generation, born in Liberty. environment." "Are they lab animals?" I asked. "The first generation is, yes. They and their descendants are different from normal cats in many ways." "Smarter?" I said, remembering the behavior of those monkeys. "You know more than I do." "There's so much going on tonight, how smart are they?" "I don't know how to measure," he said, and I could tell he was avoiding the question. "But they're different in many ways besides being smarter." "Why? What kind of manipulation did they do there?" "I don't know," he replied. "How did they escape?" "My guess may not be more accurate than yours." "Why weren't they caught?" "I don't even know if I'm killed." "I mean no harm, but, sir, you're really not very good at lying." "I've always had that shortcoming," Roosevelt said with a smile. "Look, kid, I don't know everything. I only know what my animal friends tell me. But even that is too much for you. The more you know, Just want to know more - don't forget you have to think about your dog and your friends." "Sounds like you're trying to intimidate me," I said without hostility. When he shrugged his broad shoulders, the surrounding air should have rumbled like thunder. "If you think I've been bought by the people of Werwenburg, then that's intimidation. But if you believe that I'm your friend, it's admonition." As much as I wanted to believe Roosevelt, I shared Ourson's skepticism.It's hard for me to believe he's going to do something outrageous, but standing in front of the eerie magic mirror, I have to assume every face is a fake face. Caffeine-infused, I couldn't help but want to drink more, so I took my coffee cup to the coffee pot and filled the woods. "All I can tell you," said Roosevelt, "is that there are dogs at Fort Whitman as well as cats." "Olson doesn't come from Wervenburg." "Then where did it come from?" I stood with my back to the fridge, sipping the coffee in my hand. "One of my mom's colleagues gave it to us. Their dog had so many puppies, and she had to find someone to adopt for them." "Is it your mother's colleague who teaches at the university?" "Yes, a professor in Graydon." Roosevelt stared, said nothing, and a cloud of sympathy swept across his face. "What's wrong?" I asked, hearing my own voice tremble with reluctance. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped, thought for a while, and then swallowed the words back.Suddenly, he seemed to want to avoid my eyes.At this moment, both he and Olsen were staring at the dog biscuit. The cat wasn't interested in the biscuit at all, it just stared at me.Even if there is a cat made of pure gold with jeweled eyes, suddenly jumping back and forth in front of my eyes while guarding the most sacred hall of the pyramid, it is not as mysterious as this calm-eyed, simple-looking cat. I said to Roosevelt, "Don't you think that's how Ourson got here? Wouldn't it be Fort Whitman? Why would my mother's colleagues lie to her?" He shook his head as if he knew nothing, but he knew everything.He oscillates between leaks and secrecy, which leaves me in a quandary.I don't understand what tricks he's playing, why he talks so loudly and keeps silent the next time. Under the gaze of the gray cat patron saint, in the slightly trembling candlelight, and in the air full of doubts, I said: "To finish this scene, you need a crystal ball, a pair of large silver hoop earrings, A gypsy turban and a bit of a Romanian accent." I couldn't get him to answer my question.I went back to the dinner table and tried to trick him into thinking I knew a lot with what little I knew.Maybe he'll reveal more of the secret because of it, if he thinks it's no longer a secret to me. "There are not only cats and dogs in the laboratory of Wei Wenbao, but also monkeys." Roosevelt did not answer, he was still avoiding my eyes. "You know about monkeys?" I asked. "I don't know," he said, looking involuntarily from the biscuit to the security monitor. He suddenly realized that there was a flaw in his way of staring at the monitor as soon as he heard the monkey, and quickly turned his attention to the dog biscuit. There are only a hundred berths in the outer sea area of ​​Marina. Although it is inconvenient to take another ship to return to the port after parking the ship there, the berths there are just as hard to find as those in the port.Roosevelt started from a man named Dieter.Jesso’s fishermen leased a boat space, and Dieter’s own trawler docked off Beiqingjiao, where other fishing boats gather, and only put a small boat in the boat bay off Marina, ready to use it for leisure when he retires.Rumor has it that Roosevelt paid Dieter five times as much to rent his berth. I never asked him that question because it wasn't really my business, but since he brought it up himself, I have nothing to shy away from. I said: "Every evening, you take the Nostromo from this berth to a berth out at sea, and spend the night there. Every night, every night—except tonight, in order to wait for me here. Everyone thought you were going to buy a second boat, a smaller, more exciting speedboat, just for the fun of it. You didn't, you just went there every night and people said 'okay , Anyway, Lao Luo is a weird person, he can even talk to other people's pets, what else can't be done."'He still didn't say a word.He and Olsen were also staring at the three dog biscuits, as if one of them might disregard the rules and gobble up the biscuits at any moment. "After tonight," I said, "I finally know why you spend the night there every day. Because you think it's safer. Because monkeys can't swim—at least they don't." He didn't seem to listen to me, he said, "Well, dog, if you don't want to talk to me, you can have your snack." Ourson timidly made eye contact with its interrogator, seeking his confirmation. "Eat." Roosevelt urged. Ourson looked at me dubiously, as if asking me if Roosevelt's permission was a lie. "He's the master here," I said. It immediately picked up the first dog biscuit and "crunched" happily chewed it. Roosevelt finally turned his attention back to me, with frightening sympathy in his face and eyes. "The behind-the-scenes planners of Fort Werwin's plan...they may have originally had good intentions. At least some of them did. And I also think that what they have done may bring some positive results." He reached out to stroke again The cat, it was completely limp in his hands at this moment, although its sharp eyes never moved away from me. "But there's a dark side to this business. A very dark side. From what I've heard, these monkeys are just part of the whole plan." "Just part of it?" Roosevelt stared at me silently for a long time, until Orson finished his second dog biscuit. When he broke the silence again, his tone was much softer than before: "There are not only cats, dogs, and monkeys in those laboratories." I didn't understand what he meant, so I just said bitterly, "I guess you don't mean guinea pigs and rats." He looked away, as if staring into the distance outside the cabin. "A lot of changes are coming." "They say change is a good thing." "some are." After Ourson finished his third biscuit, Roosevelt got up from his chair.Cuddling the cat to my chest and petting it gently, as if considering what exactly I need to know and whether I should know more. When he spoke again, his attitude changed from calm to mysterious. "I'm tired, son. I should have gone to bed hours ago. I was just asked to warn you that if you don't get out of the way immediately and continue to investigate this matter, your friends' lives will be in danger." "It was the cat who asked you to warn me." "That's right." When I got up, I felt the shaking of the boat more obviously.In an instant, I felt like I had been hit by a spell of dizziness, and I had to hold on to a chair to stand still.Outer dizziness and inner chaos combined, and my hand trying to grasp reality became weaker and weaker.I felt as if I were caught in the upper edge of the vortex, being pulled down rapidly, faster and faster, until I was sucked into the very bottom of the vortex - similar to Dorothy's tornado encounter - ——It's just that I didn't go to the Kingdom of Oz, but Waimea Bay and Piya in Hawaii.Kirk talks about the virtues of reincarnation. Although aware of the absurdity of this question, I still asked the question: "So, this cat, Montgodelli... it is not with the gang in Fort Werwin." "It escaped from them." Orson licked his tongue to make sure no precious cookie crumbs remained near his muzzle, then jumped out of his chair and walked over to me. I said to Roosevelt: "I just heard someone describe the secret plan of Fort Whitman as earth-shattering ... as the end of the world earlier this evening." "The end of our world." "Do you really think so?" "It could be that way, yes. But if things go wrong, the negative changes will far outweigh the positive changes. What we think is the end of the world is not necessarily the end of the world." "Tell these truths to the dinosaurs after the comet hit the earth." “我也有迷糊的时候。”他坦白地说。 “假如你怕到必须每天晚上到外海的泊船口去睡，假如你真的觉得卫文堡进行的计划十分危险，为什么不干脆搬离月光湾？” “我有考虑过。但是我的事业，我的生活全在这里。再说，我不可能逃得掉的，这么做，只是拖延一点时间罢了。到最后，没有一个地方是安全的。” “你的评估很悲观。” “我猜吧。” “但是你看起来一点也不沮丧。” 罗斯福抱着猫咪带领我们走出主般来到尾舱。“孩子啊，人生的起起伏伏，只要是有趣的，我一向都能兵来将挡、水来土掩。我这辈子过得多采多姿，已经够了，我只怕日子过得太无聊。”我们走到甲板上，被重重的浓雾拥抱。“这个中部沿海之珠或许有沦落的危险，但是不管事情最后的发展如何，可以很确定的是，我绝对不会感到无聊。” 罗斯福和巴比之间的共通点比我原先想像得还多。 “嗯，先生……我猜，还是应该谢谢你给我的忠告。”我坐在栏杆上，从船上跳到下面几尺的码头上，欧森纵身一跃在我旁边落地。 大苍鹭早已不见踪影。浓雾在我身边回旋，黑色海水在船身下起伏，除此之外，所有的一切就和死亡的梦境一样死寂。我才在码头的通道上走了两步，就听见罗斯福叫住我：“孩子？” 我停下脚步回头看。 “你那些朋友们的性命真的危在旦夕，你这一生的幸福也在你一念之间。相信我，知道更多内幕对你没有好处，你的问题已经够多了……必须这样过一辈子。” “我的生活没有任何问题。”我肯定地答复。“只是和一般人生活的优点、缺点不同而已。” 他的皮肤黑得让他看起来像是浓雾中阴影导致的幻象。他手里抱住的猫除了那对眼睛之外整个身体都看不到，两颗亮晶晶的绿色光球在半空中漂浮，既神秘又恐怖。“只是优点不同而已……你真的这么认为吗？” “是的，先生。”我说，虽然我不确定我之所以这么认为是因为事实如此，还是因为我从小到大总是试着这么说服我自己。很多时候， 现实其实是你自己营造出来的。 “让我多告诉你一件事。”他说：“因为这样才可能让你打消念头，心甘情愿继续过你的日子。” 我等他开口。最后，他用难过的语气说：“他们当中大多数的人之所以不愿意伤害你，宁可用伤害你的朋友来控制你，以及他们之所以尊敬你，全是因为你的母亲。” 突如其来的恐惧感，就如同耶路撒冷惨白冰冷的蟋蟀般，在我背上缓缓爬行，在那一刻，我的肺部紧缩到几乎无法呼吸，虽然我不知道为什么罗斯福谜样的一番话会对我造成如此深刻的打击。或许我不应该知道得太多。或许谜底早已经在潜意识的峡谷或心灵的深渊里随时准备揭晓。