Some dreams die after a long time.Some even have a flashback at the last moment... it should be said that this is even worse. The site of the Elvis Presley Memorial is just over two kilometers from the heart of the university.Hamid Thompson went first through a stump of stumps—a formerly felled forest—and across the old town.It will take a long way to go this way, but it is obviously more pleasing to Gua Lala.It ran up and down in front of it, and from time to time it nuzzled the cockroach holes in the ground, and at the same time secretly watched the birds that were attracted by the sound it made.As usual, it didn't want to hunt for prey, and it was mostly a game.When a bird came within its attack range, it would jerk its head up, touch it with its nose, and at the same time imitate the sound of human laughter, scaring the bird out of its wits.Gualala hasn't passed by here for some days: in the place where it usually haunts, the surrounding birds have learned to behave well, and it is difficult to play this trick with them again.

When we walked near the cliff behind the old city, there were no cockroach holes on the ground, and the birds became more cautious.Gu la la stopped making noise, and obediently accompanied Hamid, humming some tunes: bits and pieces of Elvis songs, mixed with some news from a few months ago.For a minute or two, it didn't even say anything...perhaps listening?Some people once satirized gua la la that as long as it is awake, it cannot be quiet for a second.In fact, this is not the case.Sometimes it would go silent for hours at a time—though even then Hamid would get a little buzzing in his head or a flash of pain from time to time.The croak diaphragm can produce sounds with a bandwidth of 200,000 Hz, which means that most of them cannot be heard by humans.

Now they came to the top of the cliff. "Sit down, croak. I need to catch my breath." And look at the scenery here... and think about what to do with you and me. This cliff is the highest natural feature in New Michigan.All around it, the flat land is filled with ponds, creeks and rivers—the region has some of the best cultivated land on the entire planet.From a space orbit, the first-time colonists could not have looked for a more suitable place.Of course, it's easier to land in water, but one has to be as prepared as possible for long-term survival.Through the gray mist, Hamid could still vaguely see the glassy traces left behind when he landed thirty kilometers away.The history books say it took three full years to move all the people and supplies from that giant spaceship.Until now, there is still slight nuclear radiation there, which is one of the reasons why people moved across the canyon to the western plains.

Looking from this direction, the eyes are full of endless farmlands, patches of black, brown, and gray, with no end in sight.There are only two exceptions: one is the forest surrounding the drop point, and the other is the old university town directly below the cliff.It was late autumn, and the colorful-leaved plants brought from the earth had lost all their leaves.The wind blowing across the plain was cold, and Hamid's nose was red, which meant that snow would probably fall in a few days.Halloween is next week.halloween.I don't know if there is any Halloween in the 3,000-year history of mankind that can compare with ours next week.Thinking of this, Hamid subconsciously wanted to look back, but he resisted the urge.Normally, Margate was one of his favorite places: the capital of the planet, a population of four hundred thousand, a real city.When he was a boy, a visit to Margate was like an expedition to some galaxy far, far away.But now, the stars seemed to be within reach... He could pinpoint the location of each tourist barge without looking back.The barges floated above Margate like a bunch of colored balloons; each barge weighed at least a thousand tons.But to tourists, these are little more than boats.After Elvis Presley Day, the last tourist project here in Margate is Halloween.Next, the tour group will go to the western plains, and there are more tricks waiting for them.

Hamid sat down on a rock covered with a layer of dried moss. "Tell me, gua la la, what should I do? Should I sell you? Sell you, and we can go outside together." Gua la la pricked up his ears. "Talking? Talking? Vomiting?" The forty-kilogram guy sat down next to Hamid, his head nestled against his chest.Its head diaphragm purrs like a cat.The purring sound caused a buzzing in Hamid's chest that shook even the rock they were sitting on.Finding a partner to have a good chat with is one of Gualala's favorite things to do.Hamid gently stroked its black and white fur, "I mean, should I sell you?"

The grunting stopped, Gualala seemed to be thinking about this issue carefully.Its head wobbled from side to side and up and down—it was a perfect imitation of a professor at the university.Its big dark eyes rolled, "Don't rush! I'm thinking. I'm thinking." After saying that, it gracefully licked the smooth fur under its throat.In Hamid's view, it is really thinking about how to answer.Sometimes, it really seems to be trying to understand... Sometimes, what it says really seems to make sense.Finally, it closed its mouth and began to speak. "Should I sell you? Should I sell you?" The tone was Hamid's, but it didn't mimic his voice.Usually, when they talked like this, Gua La La would have a grown woman's voice (and a very attractive one, Hamid thought).It wasn't like this before.When they were both very young, it would imitate the speech of little boys.Gualaala's strategy was obvious: it knew which sound Hamid was most likely to like.Could this be the cunning of animals? "Well," it went on, "I know what I think. Buy, don't sell. And always negotiate."

It often utters such prophetic words.But Hamid, who has been with Quack all his life, knows it too well: the longer the comment, the less it understands.As for that sentence just now... Hamm remembered his finance class, before he found his current apartment.For half the term, Guagua hid under his desk throughout the day. (It was an exciting semester for all.) “Buy, don’t sell.” Wasn’t it taught in class, the words of a nineteenth-century business tycoon. It started babbling, and the more it said, the more digressed it became.After listening for a while, Hamid grabbed Quack by the neck, and they wrestled on the stony slope.Hamid laughed and yelled with less than half his strength; Croak drew back his paw carefully.After a while, Hamid was defeated. He was lying on his back, standing on his chest, holding his nose with the tip of his long mouth, and shouting: "Call me uncle! Call me uncle!"

The first two centimeters of Gua Lala's snout had no teeth, but it bit hard, so Hamid immediately surrendered.Croak jumped off him, giggling triumphantly, and helping him up by his collar.Hamid stood up, rubbed his nose carefully, and then waved his hand in the direction of the small town of Ann Arbor down the mountain, "Okay, villain, let's go." "Haha! Of course. Let's go!" Guagua ran down the mountain with a speed that Hamid could never catch up with in his life.Every few seconds, though, it would stop and look back to see if Hamid was following.Hamid shook his head and started to walk down.If he really wanted to keep up with Quack, he would have broken his leg.Looking at the quack, he suddenly thought that although he didn't know which planet it came from, the climate on that planet must be similar to the winter near Margate.You can tell by its coat color: a wide strip of pure black and pure white mixed together, just like the seals he has seen in pictures.When there is snow on the ground, you can hardly see it.

Now it has run fifty meters away.From this distance, it could easily be mistaken for a dog, say some kind of greyhound.It's just that its claws are too big and its neck is too long.Sure, it can bark like a dog: but then again, it can also simulate a thunderstorm and talk like a human — all at the same time.There is no similar kind of quack in the entire Sino-American star, and it is unique on this planet.He had also learned last week that it was almost as rare outside the country.A tourist wanted to buy it... what a tourist could give, something Hamid had always dreamed of.Hamid lived to be twenty years old and has been working hard for more than ten years.

He desperately needs some good advice.It had been five years since Hamid had turned to his father for help, and it would be better to die if he went to him again.Had to go to college and find Larry the slob...

---

Notes: