Chapter 6 Chapter Three Six Telephones (1985) 4

7 Years ago, he met Beverly Marsh at a singles bar in downtown Chicago. The conversation was speculative because they both worked in the same building and knew people in the building.Tom works in the public relations department of Jinlandi Company.On the 42nd floor; Beverly, a design assistant for Deliya Fashion Company, is on the 12th floor.Tom knew immediately when he first met Beverly that she was attractive but vulnerable.Less than a month after meeting, he knew another characteristic of her: outstanding talent.In the patterns of her casual clothes, he saw that Beverly was a potential money maker.

Tom knew a lot about her before Beverly knew he was interested in her. That's just the way Tom likes it.All his life he had been trying to find someone like Beverly.He started to move, like a fierce and hungry lion starting to chase a poor unsuspecting antelope with all his strength.Beverly's fragility doesn't show on the surface—all you see is a slender, sexy woman; but she's vulnerable...unexplainably vulnerable.Only he knows this. Lions never think, at least not like humans...but they can see.When the antelopes leave the puddles vaguely aware of the threat of death, the lion will pay attention to see which antelope has fallen behind, is lame, or is running slowly...or is not in danger.It's even possible that some antelopes—and some women—wanted to be prey in the first place.

A sudden "snap" yanked him out of his memory—it was the sound of a lighter. A burst of anger rushed up.There was a kind of anger that was even tinged with joy in his chest. Smoking, she's smoking!Right here, she's smoking again!It seems she is a slow learner.But a good gentleman is always ready to teach such a pupil. "Yes," she said again, "um. Well. Yes..." She listened, and then broke out into a strange laugh he had never heard before. "Since you said it, two things - get me a room first, and pray for me. Okay...well... me too. Goodnight."

Beverly had just hung up the phone when Tom came in.He wanted to yell at her when he came in, "Puff out the cigarette! Now!" But when he saw Beverly, the words caught in his throat.He'd seen Beverly look that way twice before, once when she was attending a major international fair for the first time, and the other time when they went to New York to receive an international design award. She was striding around the bedroom with a cigarette in her mouth, a puff of white smoke rising from her left shoulder.God!What he hated most was her appearance! But the look on her face made him really hesitate, and the yell caught in his throat.

"Crack" - his heart was shaken.He began to recoil, telling himself that he was not afraid but surprised by her. He remembered that every time her career hit a high, she was a completely different woman.A woman who frightened him.A strong, fearless and unpredictable woman. Now Beverly's cheeks were starting to turn red, a natural red.Her eyes were shining brightly, and there was no sign of drowsiness at all.Her red hair was flowing, as lively as a throbbing brook.And... oh look!Friends and Neighbors!Look what she's doing!She took a suitcase out of the closet!God! "Book me a room...and pray for me."

All right.Beverly wasn't going anywhere, she didn't need to book a room, she just stayed home. Thank you. But she really needs a prayer or two before he can teach her a lesson. Beverly put the suitcase at the foot of the bed and went to her workshop.She opened a drawer and began to organize the clothes.The smoke still hung around her shoulders. Tom wasn't concerned with who was calling or where she was going, because she wasn't going anywhere.It wasn't his head that he cared about either—he had a dull ache from too much drink and too little sleep. cigarette!All he cares about is cigarettes!

The cigarette was still in her mouth at the moment.She hadn't noticed Tom standing in the doorway.Tom could not help thinking of those two evenings.Just those two nights later, Tom had complete control over Beverly. "I don't want you to smoke anymore," Tom told Beverly when they came home from a party. October, by the way, is a day in October. "I've had enough of the smell of cigarettes at work or at parties. I don't want to smell that when I'm with you. You know what that's like? I'll tell you the truth—it's hard to say but it's true. That It's like eating someone else's snot."

He expected Beverly to protest, but she just looked at him shyly and ingratiatingly.Her voice was always low and docile. "All right, Tom." "Then you put out the cigarette." Beverly put out her cigarette.For the rest of the evening, Tom was in good humor. A few weeks later, as they were coming out of the movie theater, she inadvertently lit another cigarette.She was snorting as they walked to the parking lot. It was a very cold night in November, and the wind cut my face like a knife.Tom let her smoke the cigarette and even opened the car door for her.After he got into the car and closed the door, he said, "Beverly?"

Beverly took the cigarette from her mouth and turned to look at him.Tom opened his big hand and slapped her hard across the face.He used so much force that her head hit the car seat hard.She quickly covered her face with her hands, her eyes were wide open, full of surprise and pain.She cried out, "Wow! Tom!" Tom just looked at her, squinting, and smiling as usual.He wanted to see what would happen next, how she would react.But what Tom was waiting for--not "You son of a bitch"! Not "See you later"! It's not "our relationship is over, Tom" either!

Instead—she just looked at him with those hurt eyes and said, "Why did you hit me?" Then she tried to say something more, but finally burst into tears. "Throw it away." "What? What, Tom?" Her tears washed the make-up out of ~trails.Tom didn't care about any of that.On the contrary, he still wanted to see her like this.It's exciting. "Cigarette. Throw it away." Beverly reacted immediately.She seems to have committed a crime. "I just forgot!" she cried. "That's it!" "Throw away the cigarette. Or you'll get another hit."

Beverly rolled down the window and snuffed out the cigarette.Then she turned, pale, and looked at him timidly. "You can't...you can't hit me. That's not good for...a...stable...relationship." She tried to say it in an adult tone, but failed.He succeeded. In front of him, Beverly can only be a child.No matter how sexy she is, she's just a kid. "Son," he tried to look calm, but a little panicked and excited, "I can decide whether our relationship can be stable or not. If you can bear it, fine. If not, then open the way. I won't stop Yours. Maybe I'll kick you as a parting gift, but I won't stop you. This is a free country. What more can I say?" "Maybe you've said enough," she murmured.Tom slapped her again, harder than the first.No one dared to talk back to him.Not even the Queen of England. Her face hit the dashboard.Her hand just touched the door handle, and then put it down again.She just crouched in the corner like a rabbit, with one hand on her mouth, her wide eyes full of fear.Tom stared at her for a moment, then went around to her car door.He opens the garage].His hot breath was like white smoke on a cold November night. "Want to come out, Beverly? I see you want to pull the door handle. I guess you want to come out. Okay. I told you not to smoke, you said yes, but you're not okay. Come on! Come on out. I Fuck! What's wrong? Do you want to come out?" "No," she whispered. "What? I didn't catch it." "No. I don't want to go out." She said a little louder. "What—those cigarettes gave you emphysema? If you can't tell, I'll get you a fucking mic. This is your last chance, Beverly. You say it out loud and let me hear it Be clear: do you want to come out or do you want to go back with me?" "I want to go back with you." After she finished speaking, she hooked her skirt with her hands like a little girl.She didn't look at Tom, tears rolled down her face. "Okay. You gotta tell me first, 'I won't smoke in front of you, Tom'." Beverly looked up at Tom pleadingly.Her eyes seemed to say, "You can make me do this, but don't. I love you. Isn't that enough?" "no." "Say. " "I won't smoke in your presence, Tom." "Okay. Now say: 'I'm sorry.'" "I'm sorry." She repeated blankly. Cigarettes were burning on the sidewalk.People leaving the cinema looked at them curiously. Tom went over and crushed it with his foot. "Now say: 'I will never smoke again without your permission.'" "No..." Her voice stopped suddenly. " No--" "Say it! Beverly." "...with your permission, I will never smoke again." Tom closed the car door.He dragged Beverly to his apartment.They didn't speak all the way.In the parking lot, their relationship was half-determined.The other half was 40 minutes later, in Tom's bed. 8 A month later, they were married.At the time of the wedding, two of Tom's friends came; Beverly had only one friend, Kay.McCaw.Tom called her a "Women's Lib bitch." All the memories flashed through Tom's mind like a movie in seconds.Beverly was still rummaging through a drawer.Now she found a piece of underwear—not the smooth soft satin that Tom liked, but cotton, with elastic at the waist, and it looked like a girl. Tom Logan walked silently to his wardrobe.He was barefoot, and walking on the carpet was like a breeze. It's that cigarette.It was the cigarette that drove Tom crazy.It's been so long since Beverly's first lesson that she probably forgot.Although she has many, many other lessons to learn, such as no long-sleeved shirts, no turtlenecks, no sunglasses, etc. But the first lesson is the most basic and never to be forgotten - Tom has forgotten the call that woke him from his deep sleep.All he had in his head was the cigarette.Beverly smokes now, which means she has forgotten about Tom Logan.Of course it's only temporary.But it's also fucking too long for the time being.It didn't matter what caused her to forget, what was important was that such a thing could not happen in his family no matter what. A wide belt hung behind the wardrobe door.The buckle on the belt had been removed by him long ago, and now that place was double-folded, forming a pocket just enough to put the glove in. "Tom, your skin is itching again," his mother said sometimes—"sometimes" wasn't quite right; "often" was probably. "Come here, Tom! Let me whip you!" His childhood was punctuated by such whippings.In the end, although he escaped into Wechida Academy, he still couldn't escape completely.In his sleep he kept hearing his mother's voice: "Come here, Tom! Let me give you a spank! Explain the itch..." Tom is the eldest of four children in his family.His father died when he was 11 years old - I should say "suicide" - he died while drinking while sitting on the toilet.Tom became the head of the family, and became the mother's punching bag.If younger siblings mess up the house...if forget to pick up sister from kindergarten...if...if this or that happens...then his mother will pick up a root and say, "Tom , come here! Let me beat you..." Beating others is better than being beaten yourself. If Tom has learned anything along the way, it's this. Tom took the belt off.He reached into the belt holster and clenched his fist.Very comfortable.The belt drooped like a black dead snake.His headache disappeared without a trace. Beverly now dug out an old white bra from the back of a drawer.Tom had thought the call was from her lover, and now his heart was relieved.It would be ridiculous for a woman to bring her old clothes to meet her lover.Besides, Beverly didn't dare. "Beverly," he called softly.Beverly turned her head all of a sudden, stunned.Her eyes were wide open. The belt hesitated... let down a little.Tom looked at her, and a feeling of uneasiness welled up in him again. Beverly's nervousness showed on her face.But at the moment, there seemed to be a halo covering her body, making her both attractive and dangerous.Beverly is breaking away from the "her" that Tom designed and controlled.It was something Tom Logan had never felt before, and it frightened him. Beverly looked terrified, but at the same time utterly excited.Excitement shone on her cheeks and in her eyes. The cigarette was still biting into her mouth, still slightly tilted up.Damn, she thought she was Franklin.Roosevelt.Cigarettes!Anger engulfed him like a green wave.But suddenly Tom remembered vaguely what Beverly had said feebly one night: "One day you're going to kill me, Tom. You know that? One day you're going to go too far. That's the end .” At that time Tom replied: "You just do what I say, and that day will never come." Now Tom wondered if that day had come. cigarettes.You can ignore everything else.Just cigarettes.Once this issue is resolved, it's time to discuss other things. "Tom," said Beverly, "I have to—" "You smoke." Tom's voice seemed to come from afar. "Looks like you forgot again, honey. Where did you hide your cigarettes?" "Okay, I'll kill it." Beverly walked into the bathroom and threw the cigarette into the toilet—the filter of the cigarette still had bite marks on it. "Hiss." She walked back again. "Tom, it's an old friend's call. A very old friend. I have to—" "Shut up!" Tom yelled. "You have to shut up!" But the fear Tom wanted to see—the fear of him—was not on Beverly's face.There was indeed a look of fear on that face, but not because of him, but because of the phone call.Beverly didn't seem to see the belt, didn't see him.A wave of uneasiness came over Tom.Where is he? It's a stupid question, but where is he? The question was so dire that Tom felt for a moment that he was blowing on the wind like a rootless weed.He sensed that danger was approaching.But he finally got himself under control.He is here.Tom Logan is here!If the fucking bitch doesn't surrender soon enough, he'll give her a good fuck. "I'm going to whip you," Tom said, "I'm sorry, honey." "Put that thing down," Beverly seemed provocative, "I have to get to O'Hare as soon as possible." Tom's belt sagged slowly.His gaze went straight to Beverly's face. "Listen to me, Tom. Back home it was trouble again. Very troublesome. I had a friend at the time. If he hadn't been so young, he would have been my boyfriend. He was eleven years old, Suffers from a severe stutter. He's a writer now. I think you've even read his novel . . . it's called Black Torrent, haven't you?" Beverly's eyes searched Tom's face, but Tom's face was expressionless.Only the belt swayed, this way, this way.Beverly smoothed her hair nervously.Tom stood with his head down and his thick, strong legs slightly apart.That terrible question still haunts his head: where are you?Tom?do you know? "That book's been there for weeks, but I've never touched it. Maybe I should, but we're all grown-ups, and I haven't even thought about Derry for a long, long time. Anyway, Bill had a brother named George. He was murdered before Bill and I knew each other. Then, the next summer..." But Tom got annoyed the more he listened.He rushed to Beverly.His right hand held the belt aloft like a javelin.The belt hit Beverly with the sound of the wind.Beverly tried to duck, but her right shoulder hit the bathroom door frame.There was only a "snap", and the belt hit her left arm heavily, leaving a red mark. "I'm sorry, baby." His voice was normal, even a little regretful, showing a ruthless smile. "Tom, no—" Tom swung the belt again and watched it fall to her ass.Another satisfying "pop".Then…… God!She actually grabbed the belt!He even grabbed the belt! Tom was stunned for a moment by Beverly's sudden action.He almost lost his "family law".But his hand was still clinging to the holster. He jerked the belt back with a jerk. "Don't do that again," said Tom hoarsely. "You hear that? If you ever do that again, I'll beat you until you pee on blackberry juice for a month." "Tom, no more!" Beverly said.Her tone irritated Tom even more—it was the tone of a monitor reprimanding a six-year-old. "I've got to go. No kidding. Somebody's dead. I swore a long time ago.—" Tom couldn't listen.He roared after Beverly, head down, one hand flailing the leash wildly.He held up the belt, and hit it; held it up, and hit it; held it up, and hit it.He didn't know if his arm would be raised tomorrow, but right now he could only think about one thing - how dare Beverly challenge him.Not only did she dare to smoke, but she even dared to grab his belt!Well, she asked for it all! Tom's belt rained down on Beverly.Her hands kept protecting her face, but the straps still slapped her all over.But she didn't shout, as she sometimes did; she didn't beg him to stop, as she often did.Worse still, she didn't cry, as she always did.The only sounds in the silent room were the whip of the belt and their breathing—his low and husky; hers light and short. Tom beat Beverly from the bathroom to the bed and finally to the dresser.There were blood-red marks all over her shoulders.Her hair was flowing like fire.Tom thought Beverly would crouch there, or crawl under.But she groped... turned around... and then... suddenly something flew over.Beverly grabbed those cosmetics and hit him!A bottle of cosmetics hit Tom squarely in the chest and fell to the floor, shattering.Tom was immediately surrounded by the pungent floral fragrance. "Put it down!" growled Tom. "Put it down! Bitch!" Instead, Beverly intensified.Cosmetics kept coming like cannonballs.Tom felt his chest with his hands—there was a gash in it.He was stunned—the sun really came out from the west!How dare she—a bottle roared and hit his brow bone.There was a "buzz" in Tom's head.He took a step back, dumbfounded.Another bottle hit him in the stomach.Is it possible - yes!And she yelled at him! "I'm going to the airport, you son of a bitch! Did you hear that! I have something to do and I'm leaving! Get out of my way because I'm leaving!" Blood dripped from his right eye, and the sting was painful.He stared blankly at Beverly as if he had never seen her before. Beverly's chest was rising and falling.She was biting her lip, her face flushed. But there wasn't even a single bottle on the dresser. Tom saw fear in Beverly's eyes...but still not fear of him. "Put those clothes back," said Tom, trying to control his panting, "and put the suitcase back. Then go to bed. If you do, maybe I won't beat you so hard. Maybe you can walk two days. " "Tom, listen to me," Beverly said slowly.Her eyes are like a knife. "If you come near me again, I will kill you. Do you understand? Fat pig! I will kill you." Suddenly—perhaps it was the look of utter disdain on her face, perhaps it was her calling him a "fat pig," perhaps it was her stubbornness—fear nearly suffocated Tom. Tom Logan rushed to his wife.This time he didn't yell.He was silent, like a mine breaking through the water.He wanted to see who killed whom. Tom thought Beverly would run away.Maybe towards the restroom.Maybe towards the stairs.However, she didn't run away.She leaned against the wall and pushed the dresser hard toward Tom.The dressing table wobbled and fell down.The top of it hit Tom's thigh, knocking him down in one blow.The bottle in the dressing table made a pleasant sound.Tom shielded his eyes with his arm when he saw the mirror above it slamming down on the floor.The strap in his hand escaped his grip and flew out.The mirror smashed to the floor, splashing glass all around. Several pieces of glass pierced Tom's body, and blood flowed out immediately.Beverly burst into tears. There were times when she wanted to leave Tom as she had run away from her father.All the luggage was already in the car.She is not a stupid woman.She knew she had loved Tom, and she still loved him more or less now.But that doesn't preclude her fear of Tom... her hatred of him... or even her own contempt for choosing Tom.She felt that the anger in her heart was robbing herself of reason. But Mike.Hanlon's voice rang in her ears again: "It's here again, Beverly...it's back...you swore..." The dresser started to move.One click, two clicks, three clicks.As if it could breathe. Beverly hopped nimbly across the dresser, dodging the broken glass, and grabbed the belt that had been flung aside.She turned and reached into the belt holster.She tossed her hair back and watched what Tom was about to do. Tom stood up.Several pieces of glass pierced his cheek.There is also a long cut in the eyebrow.As he stood up slowly, Beverly saw that his underpants were also covered in blood. "Give me the belt," said Tom. Instead, Beverly wrapped the belt around her hand again and looked at him provocatively. "Put it down, Beverly. Now." "If you dare to come here again, I'll beat the shit out of you." Beverly herself couldn't believe that these words came out of her mouth.Who is this blood-stained man standing in front of him?her husband?her father?Dare to hit her lover when they are in love?oh god! help me!But her mouth still didn't stop: "I'll whip you too. You're fat and dull, Tom. I'm leaving. Forever. I think maybe it's over." "Who is that Dunbang man?" "Forget it. I—" She was too slow to react.The question was just trying to distract her.Tom rushed over without waiting for her to finish.In time, however, the belt arced through the air and flew away.The strap hit Tom's mouth hard, making a sound like a cork popping out of a bottle. Tom screamed.He covered his mouth with his hands, and his wide eyes were full of pain and surprise. Blood spilled from his fingers and trickled down the back of his hand. "How dare you break my mouth, sister-in-law!" His scream had become slurred. As he spoke, he rushed over again, trying to grab Beverly with both hands; while spitting out a bloody tooth from his mouth.Beverly was terrified, but her heart was filled with a liberating ecstasy. "It's time to settle the bill," she thought, waving the belt again—the belt that had beaten her so many times. The belt slapped from the side, and there was only a muffled sound, like the sound of a stick hitting a carpet, hitting Tom's crotch precisely.Tom screamed, covered his crotch with his hands, and fell down.He was rolling on the ground with a pained expression on his face. "Blood," thought Beverly. "My God! He's covered in blood." But she thought again: "He definitely won't die. I have to leave as soon as possible while I'm at it, or I'll be finished when he gets up." As she went to get her suitcase, a shard of glass caught her foot.But her eyes never left Tom for a moment.She grabbed the suitcase, turned and headed for the stairs.Bloody footprints were left on the ground.She doesn't want anything now, she just wants to escape from this place quickly. Something touched her leg lightly, and she couldn't help crying out. She looked down and saw that it was the belt.It was still tightly wrapped around her hand.In the dim light, the belt looked more like a dead snake.She threw it out in disgust.The belt curled and landed on the living room rug. At the end of the stairs, Beverly pulled the white nightgown off her body.There were bloodstains all over the pajamas, and she couldn't wear them anymore.She threw the pajamas aside and bent down naked to open the suitcase. "Beverly, get the fuck out of here!" Startled, Beverly withdrew her hand, then stretched it out again.If Tom could bark that loudly, she'd have even less time.She rummaged through the contents of the box, her eyes never leaving the stairs.Tom didn't show up.He called Beverly's name twice more loudly, and Beverly flinched each time.But she finally found a shirt and a pair of pants.She hurriedly put on her shirt.The top two buttons of the shirt were missing. It's ironic -- a fashion designer who rarely mends clothes. "I'm going to kill you! Bitch!" Beverly snapped the box shut.A shirt sleeve was protruding from the side of the box like a tongue.She looked around quickly. "Am I never going to see this house again?" But the thought didn't bring her any relief.She opened the door and walked out. She walked three blocks, not knowing where she was going.Her leg ached.She looked at her watch, it was almost two o'clock.Her wallet and credit cards were left at home. She is now penniless. Suddenly she laughed out loud. She sat down in front of a house.She laughed out loud.There was power in her, a wild urge. "Desire," she thought.Wave after wave of excitement is pushing her towards her inevitable bumpy fate. she smiles.Horror is as sharp as pain and as sweet as October apples.When a light in the house suddenly went on, she grabbed her suitcase and fled into the night.She is still smiling.