Chapter 4 Chapter Three Six Telephones (1985) 2

3 Ben Hansko. If you wanted to find the man Time magazine hailed as "probably America's most promising architect" on the night of May 28, 1985, you'd have to drive to Sweederham.Along a central avenue, through the commercial district of that rather prosperous small town, and then go out, and finally arrived at a roadside tavern called "Red Wheel".A 1968 Cadillac was parked in the dirty parking lot in front of the tavern.There is a small sign on the front of the car that says "Bane's Loved Car".Walk into a tavern and you'll see the man you're looking for - gangly and weather-beaten.

He was wearing a striped shirt, a pair of whitish jeans, and a pair of old engineering boots.He's 38 years old, but he looks 10 years younger than he really is—except for some imperceptible crow's feet around the corners of his eyes. "Hello! Mr. Hansko." Li Ruiqi, the owner of the tavern, greeted him and put a napkin in front of Ben.Ricky Lee was a little surprised, he had never seen Ben Hansko patronize his little shop at this time.When Ben used to come, it was always on the weekends. He had two beers when he came on Friday; four or five on Saturday night.He always puts a $5 tip on the bottom of his beer glass when he leaves.Tavern owner Ricky Lee is particularly fond of this regular customer—not just because he gets a $10 tip every week, but because he thinks it's worth being with him.In a third-rate tavern like this, the conversation of the patrons is often vulgar; but Mr. Ben Hansker, with his bearing and his elegance, is indeed a rare character.

Every weekend, Li Ruiqi always looks forward to Ben's appearance, because with years of experience, Li Ruiqi knows that he will definitely come on time.Maybe Ben will build a skyscraper in New York thousands of miles away, an art gallery in Redo Beach, or a commercial building in Salt Lake City, but every Friday night between 8:00 and 9:30, the door of the hotel will be closed. would be pushed away, and Ben would walk in—seems like his home was as far away as the other side of town; and he was only here because there wasn't anything good to watch on TV.He has his own private jet and a small landing pad on his estate.

Bane first designed and supervised the construction of the BBC broadcasting heart in London two years ago, and its merits are still being debated in the British press. The "Guardian" said that it might be "the most beautiful building in London in the past 20 years"; while the "Mirror" said that "that building is uglier than the old face of the mother-in-law".Right after Ben took the job in London, Ricky Lee thought, "Maybe he won't come around as often."However, Ben's routine was only interrupted once on the first Friday.When it was 9:15 on Saturday night, he calmly followed up with "Red Wheel", still in the same outfit.Ricky Lee called out excitedly: "Hello! Why are you still here?" Mr. Ben Hansker was a little confused, as if he was not surprised at all.

He always came alone, and always went back the same way.Rich Lee felt that Banth was the loneliest person he had ever met in his life. Tonight, Mr. Hansko looked a little pale and a little absent-minded. "Hi! Ricky Lee," he said, sitting down and looking down at his hands. Ricky Lee felt that Hansko seemed a little scared.But he didn't think it was surprising at all. If a person is too conspicuous and famous, he will be targeted by others. Ricky Lee took a beer mug from behind the bar and went to turn the tap on the beer keg. "No need, Richie Lee." Ricky Lee turned around in surprise—a sudden wave of terror came over him when he saw Ben Hansko's face.Mr. Hansko didn't seem to be afraid now, but seemed to have just suffered a blow, and the pain was gone.

Someone dropped a coin into the jukebox.A female singer sang la la babble. "Are you all right, Mr. Hansko?" Ben Hansko is suddenly older - like 10 years older - no, 20 years old.Li Ruiqi was surprised.Mr. Hansker's hair was all gray, and Rich Lee had never seen him have a single gray hair before. Hansko smiled.A horrible, terrifying laugh.A walking corpse laugh. "I don't want to drink tonight, Ricky Lee. Not tonight. Not to. Sir. Not at all." Ricky Lee put down his wine glass and walked up to Hansko. The tavern was empty.Hardly less than 20 customers.Annie was sitting by the kitchen door, playing poker with the cook.

"Is there any bad news, Mr. Hansko?" "Bad news, yes. From home." He looked at Li Ruiqi, as if to see through him. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hansko." "Thank you, Richie Lee." Hansko fell silent again.Just when Ricky Lee was about to ask if he could be of any help, Hansko said, "How's the whiskey in your tavern, Ricky Ricky?" "The others are mediocre," Richie Lee said, "but you and I have to bring out the best 'wild turkey.'" Hansko smiled. "Thank you, Ricky Lee. I think you'll have to get a beer mug and fill me with 'Wild Turkey.'"

"Filled?" Ricky Lee made no secret of his surprise. "My God! Then I'll have to donate you from here!" Or an ambulance, he thought. "Not tonight," Hansko said. "It's all right." Ricky Lee looked Mr. Hansker in the eye—not kidding.He took a beer glass from behind the bar and a bottle of 'Wild Turkey' from the shelf, his hands shaking, the bottle clinking against the glass.He is really confused.Not just because of Mr. Hansker, but he had never poured so much whiskey—or never in his life. Call an ambulance, fuck it!If he drank this cup, I'll have to send someone to dig his grave.

But Ricky Li still brought the wine over and placed it in front of Hansko.Father used to tell him that as long as a man was in his right mind, you would give him something if he paid his bill, whether it was urine or poison.Ricky Lee didn't know if his father's advice was good or bad, but he knew that if you wanted to make a living selling alcohol, sometimes you had to go against your conscience. Hansker looked thoughtfully at the tall glass of whiskey.Waited a while, then asked, "Do I have to pay for it myself?" Li Ruiqi shook his head slowly, still staring at the beer mug, not wanting to point his finger at those piercing eyes. "No," he said, "this cup is mine."

Hansko smiled again, more naturally this time. "Thanks, Ricky Lee. I want to tell you a story. It's about my teacher, Frank Billings. I bet he was the best architect in the world. He was in Peru in 1978 with a high fever and the doctors gave him He was injected with all kinds of antibiotics, but none of them worked, and he died two weeks later. But the Indians knew how to deal with that fever. They said that the local whiskey was the most effective. Take a sip and you get a burning sensation in your throat, but Indians drink it like Coca-Cola. I've never seen anyone get drunk. Today I want to imitate. Bring me some lemons please .”

Ricky Lee took four lemons and placed them on a clean napkin next to the wine glass.Hansko picked one up, tilted his neck up as if for eye drops, and squeezed the lemon juice into one of his right nostrils. "My God!" Richie Li was terrified. Hansko's throat moved.His face turned red... Lee Ricky saw tears streaming down his face.Spinas sang from the jukebox: "Oh God, I don't know if I can take this anymore..." Hansko groped on the bar with his eyes closed, picked up another lemon, and squeezed the juice into the other nostril. "You're going to fucking kill yourself," Ricky Lee muttered. Hansko threw two lemon husks on the bar and took a hissing breath.His eyes were as red as fire.He wiped the lemon juice down his nostrils, grabbed his glass, and took a swig.Li Ruiqi was dumbfounded, watching his Adam's apple move up and down. Hansko put down his wine glass, trembled twice, and then nodded.He looked at Li Ruiqi and smiled.His eyes were no longer red. "You're crazy, Mr. Hansker," said Richie Lee. "Bet your hair," said Mr. Hansker. "You remember, Ricky Lee? We used to say 'Bet your hair' when we were kids. Did I ever tell you I used to be fat?" "No, sir. Never," Rich Lee whispered.He now felt that Mr. Hansko was really a little crazy, or at least not normal for the time being. "I was a standard fat guy. Never played baseball, never played basketball. Always got caught first at tag. I was a fat guy. That's it. Back home, there were a bunch of guys always was chasing me. One named Beltz. Huggins, one named Victor. Chris, and a few others. Henry Bowles was their leader. Dare I say Henry Bauer Stu was the wickedest kid who ever lived. I wasn't the one he pushed and chased; my problem was, I couldn't run as fast as the other kids." Hansko unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his chest.Ricky Lee leaned forward and saw a ridiculous, twisted scar on Hansko's stomach, just above the navel.He saw clearly, it was a letter "H". "That's exactly what Henry Bowles did. It's been too long. I'm lucky he didn't get all his dirty name on me." "Mr. Hansko—" As before, Hansko raised his head and squeezed the remaining two lemons. Shouting, he put the squeezed lemon husk aside, grabbed the wine glass and took two swigs, then closed his eyes and groped, grabbing the edge of the bar.He clung tightly, like a man on a rough sea clinging to the railing of a boat, then opened his eyes, smiled at Ricky Lee, and said, "I can drink the whole cup tonight." go down." "Mr. Hansko, please don't drink any more." Rich Lee begged anxiously. Annie came with a tray, and she came for some beers. "Mr. Hansko, are you all right? Ricky Lee? asked Anne. She saw Hansko leaning against the bar, earnestly picking up lemon slices from a small jar. "I don't know." He replied. "Then you're still here standing by and doing nothing?" Annie, like most women, preferred Hansko. "I don't know. My father always said that when a man is in his right mind—" "Your father's brains are no better than a pig's," said Anne. "Forget about your father. Better not let him drink. He'll kill himself." Li Ruiqi finally made up his mind, walked to Hansko and followed. "Mr Hansko, I think you do drink—" Hansko raised his head again and squeezed the lemon juice.Actually snorting this time, like it was cocaine.Then he picked up the glass and gulped down the whiskey like water.He looked at Li Ruiqi seriously. "Ping pong ping pong. I saw those guys dancing in my bedroom." He laughed.There were probably two inches of whiskey left in the beer glass. "Enough is enough." Li Ruiqi said while reaching for the wine glass. Hansko gently took it away. "The damage has been done, Ricky Lee. It has been done. Son." "Mr Hansko, please—" "I brought something for your boys. Ricky Lee. Almost forgot." Hansko pulled something out of the pocket of his faded waistcoat. "My dad died when I was four," Hansko said, without any slurs in his voice. "Leaving us with a pile of debt and this. I want your children to take these things, Ricky Lee." He put three round silver coins on the bar.In the soft light, the silver coins glow in smoke.Ricky Lee held his breath. "Thank you very much, Mr. Hansko. But I can't—" "There used to be 4. I gave one of them to Stutter Bill and the others. Bill. Dunbang is his real name. But we used to call him Barbill... like we used to say 'Use yours Mao bet'. He's one of my best friends—I still have some friends, even people as fat as me have. Stutter Bill's a writer now." Ricky Lee barely heard what he said.He just stared at the silver coins obsessively. 1921, 1923, 1924.God only knows how much they are worth. Rich Lee said again: "I can't." "You have to take it." Hansko grabbed the glass tightly and drank the remaining whiskey in one gulp.His eyes never left Li Ruiqi for a moment.Those eyes were watery and bloodshot, but Ricky Lee could swear on the Bible that they were still perfectly clear eyes. "You're scaring me, Mr. Hansker," said Richie Lee. "Scared you?" Hansko asked.His eyes were fixed on Richie Lee's. He pushed the wine glass aside and folded his hands in front of the three silver coins. "Maybe. But you're not as scared as I am, Ricky Lee. Please God, you don't." "So, what happened?" Li Ruiqi asked, "maybe—" he licked his lips, "maybe I can help you a little bit." "An accident?" Ben Hansker laughed. "Why do you say that? No. Tonight I got a call from an old friend. His name was Mike Hanlon. I'd completely forgotten about him, Ricky Lee. But that didn't scare me. He and I were, after all, The turn of childhood, and kids are always forgetful, aren't they? But something that scares me is about to happen, and it's not just about Mike—it's me forgetting about everything from my childhood." Ricky Lee just stared at Hansko blankly.He didn't know exactly what Hansko was talking about - but Hansko was scared to death.no doubt.It was absurd that this happened to Hansko, but it was true. "I mean, I've forgotten everything." He tapped the bar with his knuckles. "Have you heard, Li Ruiqi, when you don't know what amnesia is, you have completely forgotten a piece of Li Ruiqi shook his head. "Me too. As soon as I was driving up, the amnesia hit me all of a sudden. I thought of Mike only because he called me.I thought of Derry only because that's where his call came from. " "Derry?" "But, that's all. Memories hit me, I never even thought I was a kid... and then just like that, the memories came flooding back. Like we did with that silver coin." "What did you do with that silver coin, Mr. Hansko?" Hansko looked at his watch and suddenly slipped off the stool, staggering a bit. "No time to waste," he said, "I have to fly away tonight." Li Ruiqi was taken aback.Hansko laughed again. "Fly away, but not fly yourself. It's United, Ricky Lee." "Oh," his face softened a little, "where are you going?" Hansko's shirt was still open.He looked thoughtfully at the white scar on his stomach, and began to button up. "I thought I'd tell you, Ricky Lee. Home. I'm going home. My silver coins for your boy." With that, he turned and walked toward the door.His hands are on his hips.That action really frightened Li Ruiqi, he seemed to see a ghost. "Mr. Hansker!" Lee Ricky exclaimed. Hansko turned around.Li Ruiqi couldn't help taking a step back, bumping into the shelf behind him, and the wine glasses and bottles were rattling.Li Ruiqi suddenly felt Ban Si.Hansko is dead. Yes.He was lying in a gutter, or hanging by a leash in the toilet; the man standing by the record player looking back at him was nothing but a ghost.After a while—a little while was enough to calm him down, Ricky returned to reality. "What's the matter, Ricky Lee?" "No...no...nothing." banth.Hansko's cheeks were flushed with alcohol, and his nose was red and sore, and he stared at Ricky Li. "It's nothing." Li Ruiqi whispered again.But he could not take his eyes off that face, the face of the man who had one foot in the gates of hell. "I was a fat man then; we were very poor, too," said Hansko, "I remember now. It was a girl named Beverly or Stutter Bill who saved my life with that silver piece. I'll be What I'm thinking about tonight is scary. But it doesn't matter if I'm scared or not, it's going to happen. I have to go. Because everything I ever achieved and everything I have now is related to what we did then. You have to pay for what you get. Maybe that’s why God made children who have to keep falling and bleeding to learn a simple lesson. Sooner or later what you have will make you pay.” "Anyway...this weekend...you'll be back, won't you?" Richie's lips were numb.He said with all his might, "You'll be back this weekend as usual, won't you?" "I don't know." Mr. Hansker's smile was terrible. "I'm going further than London this time, Ricky Lee." "Mr. Hansko—" "Give those silver coins to your children." After speaking, Hansko walked into the vast night. "What's going on?" Annie asked.But Li Ruiqi ignored her.He rushed to a window facing the parking lot and looked out. Hansko's Cadillac kicks off.It burst out of the dirty parking lot, sending a cloud of dust behind it.The dust scattered, and the car turned into two red dots. 4 Eddie. It is said that if you want to understand the men and women of middle-class America at the turn of the century, you have only to look at their medicine cabinets.God, look at Eddie.Casbrak's medicine cabinet bar. The upper level is filled with bottles and jars.Two bottles of Philips milk of magnesia tasted like chalk water; the new mint-flavored product tasted like mint chalk water.These are Eddie's regular medicines.The bottles and jars look like piggy banks, except they're filled with pills instead of coins. The H layer is full of various nutritional medicines: vitamin E, vitamins and pure vitamin B, complex vitamin B, B-12... and lysine for skin diseases; lecithin for preventing cholesterol accumulation near the heart; iron supplementation , calcium supplements, cod liver oil, and various compound medicines. The third shelf is the world of various patent medicines.Cough and cold remedies, sore throat remedies, mouthwash, eye drops, and topical creams for rashes.On one side of the shelf were three bottles of tar shampoo, crowded together like a group of people plotting rebellion. The bottom of the cupboard is almost empty.Only a few medicines are used at critical moments. When Eddie walked into the bathroom, he was carrying a large blue tote bag.He put the bag on the sink and started shoving the bottles and cans into the bag.Usually he would carefully take out the bottles one by one, but now he has no time to be careful.In Eddie's mind, the choice was brutally simple; either get moving and keep yourself busy, or stand there thinking about what happened for a long time and die of fear. "Eddie?" Myra's voice came from downstairs. "Eddie, what are you doing?" The medicine bottles on the shelves were swept away.Eddie paused for a moment and grabbed another bottle of medicine and stuffed it into his bag.He zipped up the bag.After thinking about it, he stuffed all the remaining medicine bottles into it. "Eddie?" Myra called as she walked upstairs. Eddie unzips the bag, turns and exits the bathroom.He was short in stature and had a timid face.Eddie's hair was nearly gone, and what was left sat listlessly on the top of his head in patches.The bag was so heavy that Eddie couldn't help but tilt to one side. A very bloated woman was slowly climbing up the second floor.Eddie heard the floor creak under her feet and protested. "What are u doing?" Eddie made no secret that he married his mother.Mylaesbrak was extraordinarily fat. When Eddie married her five years ago, she was only slightly fat.But sometimes Eddie thinks Myra has a big day and is bloated.God, his mother was fat, and Mira was much fatter.She was wearing a white pajamas, her breasts and butt protruding like waves.That unmodified face, pale and bright, looked extremely terrifying. "I've got to go away for a while," Eddie said. "What, are you leaving? What did you say on the phone?" "Nothing," Eddie said, flying across the hall to the closet.He put down the tote bag, opened the closet door, and rummaged through several identical black suits.In a pile of brightly colored clothes, they look even darker.When he goes to work on weekdays, he always wears a black suit.He went into the closet and smelled camphor mixed with wool.He dragged out a suitcase with difficulty and began to pack his clothes. "What's up, Eddie? Tell me where you're going?" "I can't tell you." Myra stood watching him, not knowing what to say or what to do.She really wanted to tie Eddie up and lock him in the closet, and then press her body against the closet door until everything calmed down.But even though she was three inches taller and a hundred pounds heavier than Eddie, she couldn't bring herself to do it.She couldn't think of what to do, but felt great sadness and fear.Eddie was a different person. "You can't go," said Myra in despair. "You promised me to get Al Pacino's autograph for me." "You'll get his autograph. You'll have to drive him." Fear had clouded her mind, and this made her uneasy.She screamed under her breath, "I can't, I can never..." "You have to. There's no one else," he said, examining his shoes. He picked out two pairs of shoes.He found another empty shoe box and put another pair of shoes in it.A pair of black leather shoes, which have been worn many times, are not bad.These shoes are too old to wear to work.When you drive rich people—many of whom are well-known rich people—through the streets of New York, you have to dress appropriately.These shoes look kind of shabby...but it's all right to go where he's going, to do what he has to do in them. Maybe Richie.Dorje will... Suddenly the blackness became aggressive and he felt a tightness in his throat.Eddie was surprised to realize that he had packed the entire pharmacy into the tote bag and forgot the most important thing—the asthma spray left on the stereo cabinet downstairs. He slammed the suitcase shut and locked it.He looked up and saw Myra standing in the hallway, her hands clasped tightly against her stubby neck like an asthmatic.He stared at Eddie with wide eyes, with a look of bewilderment and horror.If he hadn't been scared to death himself, he might still feel sorry for her. "What's up, Eddie? Who's calling? You're in trouble, aren't you? What's your problem?" He approached her, tote bag in one hand, suitcase in the other.Myra walked ahead, blocking his way.At first he thought she wouldn't move out of the way.But when his face almost hit her chest.Myra stepped away in fear.Watching him walk by without looking back, Myra couldn't help but lose her voice in pain. "I can't drive Al Pacino!" she yelled. "I'm going to crash. Eddie, I'm scared!" He glanced at the clock on the small table by the stairs, it was already 9:20.The staff of the Delta travel agency told him in a low voice that he had missed the last train north to Maine.He called Editlach again and learned that a Boston-bound train left Penn Station at 11:30.He could get off at South Station and take a taxi to Cape Cod Limousine on Arlington Avenue.The company has had many friendly and reciprocal activities with Eddie's company over the years.Make a call, Butcher.Cannington will arrange the itinerary for him to go north.Butcher said get him a Cadillac so he could go with dignity. "To go decently?" Eddie thought to himself. "Going in a hearse is decent enough. But take it easy, Eddie. You might come back in a hearse, if your body can be recovered."