Chapter 27 Repeat I Green Hills

After the interstellar spaceship Dora slid two meters on the pasture, the hatch opened, revealing the colorful light inside.Lazarus hugged Lazu and Laurie tightly again, then jumped to the ground, rolled forward twice with momentum, stood up, and hurriedly left the landing area of ​​the spacecraft.He waved his hand, and the spaceship rose straight up, like a round black cloud imprinted in the starry night sky.Then, it flew away. He took a quick look around the situation.The Big Dipper...the Polaris...well, there's a fence over there, and the road behind it, and—Jesus! —a bull! He made a small hole in the fence just for him to get through, and just in time he got through the fence just as the bull was about to charge him.

His movements were so violent that another unnecessarily rolling landing occurred.At last he came to the middle of a dirty, rutted road, and he thought that if he did it a few more times, he would be out of shape.He patted on the pockets, specifically the one additional pocket hidden under the front chest of the overalls, to make sure he hadn't lost anything.He missed the old gun dangling from his hip, but he also knew that carrying a gun of any kind was a mistake at a time and place like this.A replica jackknife was all he carried. His hat - fell into the ditch?No.Ten feet on the other side of the fence... was like ten miles; the cow was still staring at him.The hat is not necessary, but if someone found it, it would be a bit unusual - well, there is nothing to associate the hat with him anyway.forget it.

He looked again at the North Star.The town should be five miles down the road, a straight road.He set off. Lazarus stood in front of the Dedi Township Democratic Printing Factory, looking at the newspapers posted in the glass column, but he was not in the mood to read.He is thinking.He had just been taken aback, and now he was pretending to read the newspaper that had been posted so that he could calm down and think about it.The reason for his surprise was that he saw the date in the newspaper.Lazarus knew that he needed to revisit historical events. August 1, 1916 - 1916! A figure was reflected on the glass, and a person walked over from the side of the road.A burly middle-aged man with a gun belt wrapped around his waist, the flesh on his stomach almost covered the gun belt under his belly. One was inserted into the gun holster, hanging on his right thigh, and wearing a gun belt on his left chest. With a star insignia, other things are similar to Lazarus.Lazarus continued to stare at the front page of the Kansas City Journal.

"Good morning." Lazarus turned around. "Good morning... sir." "I'm just a sheriff, boy. New to this area?" "yes." "Passing by? Or staying with someone?" "Passing by, unless you can find a job." "That's a good answer. What's your line of business?" "I grew up on a farm and worked as a mechanic in various places. You can do other jobs as well, if you pay for it." "Well, let me tell you. Not many farmers are hiring people these days. Other jobs, even in the summer, don't have many opportunities. Well, you're not one of the IWW, are you?"

"'IW' what?" "It's the members of the Industrial Union of the World, boy, don't you read the newspaper? The people here are very friendly and always welcome visitors. It's just that they don't welcome that kind of person." The law enforcement officer in this place raised a hand to wipe his sweat, Made a fraternity gesture.Lazarus knew how to respond to the gesture, but decided not to.What branch are you from? ——Sir, this, this...so, it's better not to mention it. The sheriff continued, "Well, since you're not from the IWW, you can ask around to see if anyone needs help." He looked at the front page of the newspaper Lazarus pretended to be reading, "Those submarines did It's terrible, isn't it?"

Lazarus agreed. "Actually," the sheriff went on, "as long as everyone stays at home and minds their own business, tragedies never happen. Live and let others live, that's what I always say. Which way do you go?" church?" "Well, my family is all members of the Presbyterian Church." "Huh? That means you haven't been to church much lately. Well, I miss it myself sometimes, when I'm doing something else. But—see that church down the street? That clock tower behind the elms. If you get a job, well, go up there at ten o'clock on a Sunday, and I'll introduce you to the people here. They're all Methodists, but not very different from you. People here are very tolerant. "

"Thank you, sir; I shall go." "Okay. Very lenient. Mostly Methodists and Baptists. Some farms had some Mormons on them, good neighbors, never defaulted. And some They're Catholics, and nobody's against them. By the way, we even have a Jew here." "Sounds like a friendly town." "Indeed it is. It's our local choice, healthy way of life. Just one thing, if you don't get a job, about half a mile behind the church, you'll find a town boundary sign. If you don't get a job If you don't have a local address, it's best to go to the other side of the town line after sunset."

"I see." "Otherwise I'll detain you. Don't blame me; that's the rule. No bums and niggers in the streets after sundown. I didn't make the rules, boy, I just enforced them. A bum is a horse. Judge Stella made it, and some of our noble ladies here urged him to make it, because of clothes being stolen from the clothesline, etc. Anyway, a ten-dollar fine, or a ten-day jail. Terrible. The jail is at my house and the food is mediocre because I can only give the prisoners food for forty cents a day. Add another fifty cents and you can eat like us. Not trying to make it difficult, you have to I understand, it's just that the judge and the mayor want this to be a peaceful place where everyone obeys the law.

"I understand. Of course I won't blame you, because you won't have the opportunity to detain me." "Glad to hear that. If there's anything I can do to help, son, do let me know." "Thanks. Maybe you can help me now. Do you know where there is a toilet that passers-by can use? Or should I hold back and go out of town and find a woods?" The sheriff smiled. "Oh, I guess we're still hospitable. There's a real city flush toilet in the court house—but it's broken. Let me see. The smithy down the road sometimes entertains people passing by in cars. I'll go with you."

"You are so kind." "Glad to help you. Better tell me your name." "Ted Branson." A blacksmith shoeing a young gelding.He looked up. "Hello, Dickon." "Hello, Tom. This is a young friend of mine, Ted Branson. He's a little nervous. Could you use your toilet?" The blacksmith looked Lazarus up and down. "Go ahead, Ted. Be careful not to go too deep in." "thank you, sir." Lazarus followed the passage to the back of the blacksmith's shop, where he was pleased to find that the toilet door was seamless and could be locked from the inside.He took a roll of money from an additional pocket hidden under the front chest of the overalls.

Convincingly detailed in every detail, these banknotes have been reproduced from genuine banknotes in the Museum of New Roman History.They were "counterfeit notes" by definition, but the level of counterfeiting was so high that Lazarus would not hesitate to take them into circulation at any bank.There's just one hiccup: the date on the banknote. He quickly divided the pile of banknotes into two stacks: the ones before 1916 and the ones after 1916. Without hesitation or pausing to count, he pocketed the stack of banknotes that could be used, and proceeded to start from a book of banknotes. Tear off a piece of paper from the toilet paper catalog and wrap the unused bills so no one can find out that there is money in them.He threw the paper bag into the cesspit.Then he began to check the date of the coins in the secret pocket. He found that most of the coins had the damn date of minting on them - the same as the paper money.He wasted a full second admiring a perfect replica of a buffalo nickel—what a fine coin!He took at least two more seconds to calmly consider what to do with a large gold twenty-dollar piece.Gold is gold; and if the coin could be melted down, or smashed into a piece of gold, it would have no less value.But until he changed the shape of the gold coin, it was a danger.The rednecks in the next town might not be as friendly as the people in this town.Throw it away too. He felt a little lighter.Here, "counterfeiting" currency was a felony enough to land him many unpleasant years in prison, and it was difficult to escape.And having no money to spend is a remedial nuisance.Lazarus didn't want to bring money at first, but later made a concession and brought enough expenses to live on for several days.This allows him to wander around and reacclimate to his surroundings, customs and dialects before he has to earn a living to support himself.It never occurred to him to bring enough living expenses for ten years. That's ok, it's more fun that way.Struggling to survive in times he doesn't understand is a tougher task, and it's good exercise for him.If this were Elizabethan England, that would be the real challenge. He counted what was left: three dollars and eighty-seven cents.Not too bad. The blacksmith said, "Thought you fell into the cesspit. Feeling better?" "Much better. Thank you very much." "You're welcome. Deacon Armes said you called yourself a mechanic." "I am proficient in using various tools." "Ever worked in a blacksmith's shop?" "Done." "Let me see your hands." Lazarus let him see his hands."The hands of the townspeople," said the blacksmith. Lazarus did not speak. "Perhaps you have been in prison, so you have such soft hands?" "Prison time sure softens hands. Thanks again for letting me use the toilet." "Wait. Thirty cents an hour, do what I tell you to do, and I'll probably fire you in an hour." "OK." "Do you understand cars?" "Understand a little." "See if you can get that broken car moving." The blacksmith shook his head towards the outside of the shop. Lazarus went outside the shop and looked at the Ford he had noticed just now.Its top has been removed and a wooden box has been fitted over it, which turns it into a soft-top pickup.There was mud on the spokes, but overall they looked fine.He removed the front seat and checked the gas with the dipstick he found there—still half a tank full.He checked the tank again, topped it off with the shop pump, then lifted the hood; started checking the engine. The wire from the starter to the coil box wasn't connected; he reconnected it. He tried the handbrake again, and it didn't feel too tight, so he jammed the wheel with something.He turned the key to the ignition and opened the throttle to delay the ignition. Carefully tucking his thumbs in his palms instead of on the handle, he lifted the handle up and began to spin. The engine roared; the car shook.He rushed to the side of the driver's door, reached in, and flipped the throttle switch to idle. The blacksmith looked on. "Okay, turn off the engine and come over and fan my stove." Neither man mentioned the disconnected wire. The blacksmith--Tom Hemenz--during lunch, Lazarus walked the two blocks to a grocery store he had just passed and bought a quart of Grade A milk--five cents, bottle The deposit is three cents.He looked at a loaf of bread worth a nickel, and then decided he'd better pay a dime for a loaf; he hadn't had breakfast yet.He walked back to the smithy, and while he ate his lunch, he listened to Mr. Hemenz's tirade. He's a Republican, but this time he's changing sides; Mr. Wilson saved us from war. "It's not that he's done the country any favors in other ways; the cost of living has increased to an unprecedented degree. Besides, he's an Anglophile. But that stupid Hughes will get us into a European war overnight. It was a tough choice. I would have voted for LaFollette, but they were so stupid they didn't even vote him for president. Germany would win, he knew that. We'd be fools to risk it for England." Lazarus - echoed his point of view solemnly. Hemenz told "Ted" to come at seven the next morning.Before the sun went down, Lazarus made nearly three dollars.Filling himself with sausage, cheese, and biscuits, he crossed the town line and headed west.He had nothing against the town or the smithy, but he hadn't ventured on this trip to spend ten years in a country town, earning thirty cents an hour.He was going to walk around and relive that era. Moreover, Hemenz was particularly curious about him.Lazarus didn't mind him looking at his hands, or when he said he might have just been released from prison.Even the missing wire wasn't a big deal.However, after Lazarus vaguely answered the question about his own accent, the blacksmith asked him to explain exactly which Indian reservation he lived in when he was a child, and when his relatives came from Canada. A bigger community means fewer personal problems and more chances of finding work for over thirty cents an hour, as long as you don't slack off. He had been walking for an hour when he saw a car wrecked on the side of the road.The driver, an old country doctor, was moaning at a flat tire on Maxwell's car.Lazarus unloaded a kerosene lamp and gave it to the doctor, who patched the tire, reinstalled it, and pumped it up.He didn't get paid by the doctor. Dr. Chadock said, "Ryder, do you know how to drive a gas-drinking car?" Lazarus said he would. "Well then boy, since you're going west, can you help me drive to Rama, where I can rest on the couch in my waiting room and have breakfast. I'll pay for the trouble I've caused you one dollar." "I promise, doctor, but you don't have to pay me. I have money." "Nonsense, nonsense. Let's discuss it tomorrow morning. I'm exhausted; I've been going since dawn. In the old days, I'd put the reins around the whip and sleep and the horses would pull us home Yes. But this oil-drinking fellow is stupid." The breakfast was rich, with fried eggs, fried ham, fried potatoes, pancakes with sorghum syrup and homemade butter, watermelon jam, strawberry jam, almost clotted cream, and endless coffee.The doctor's housekeeper, that is, the doctor's sister, has been persuading Lazarus to eat more, saying that his appetite is not as good as that of a bird.After this, he set off again, with another dollar in his pocket, and a lot cleaner, not looking like a bumpkin, because spit and polish and hard work made his shoes look different, Nettie The lady also insisted on giving him some old clothes. "It's going to be donated to the Salvation Army anyway, and it's the same for you. Wear this tie too; the doctor doesn't wear it anymore. That's how you go to work clean and tidy. I will not open the screen window to help him." He accepted it.He knew she was right, and he knew that if it hadn't been for his help, Dr. Chadock would have slept in the car that night, worrying his sister all night.Thinking of this, he felt balanced.Miss Netty packed his clothes neatly; he thanked her and promised to send them a postcard when he got to Kansas City.He dropped the package into the first woods he passed.He felt a little guilty that the clothes were never worn apart from the man-made wear and tear on them.It's just that the style of the clothes is a bit out of fashion, and he doesn't plan to wear them for a long time except when it's absolutely necessary.Besides, a man on the road can't look like a bum with a parcel on his back.Perhaps Miss Netty hadn't thought of that. He found the railway, but bypassed the railway station.He was waiting near Beicheng.A southbound passenger train and a freight train passed him; at about ten o'clock a northbound freight train emerged, slowly picking up speed.Lazarus climbed onto the train.He didn't try to hide from the brakeman on the train, but let him blackmail him with a dollar—a counterfeit bill; he had the real bill bandaged around his left leg. The brakeman warned him that there might be railroad police at the next stop, so don't give him more than a dollar; if he's going further afield, beware of the plainclothes cops at the Kansas City train station... Better not: Those people would rob him of his money and beat him up.Lazarus thanked him, and would have liked to ask the name of the line—Missouri Pacific Line? —in the end he decided that the question didn't matter; anyway, the train was going north, and the brakeman's advice let him know that the train would go where he wanted to go. He spent the whole day on the train, half in the uncovered compartment and the other half in the improved condition of the empty cargo compartment.As the train passed Swope Park, Lazarus jumped off the train.He was so tired and dirty as a mud monkey that he almost regretted not buying a ticket.But he pushed the thought out of his mind.He knew that coming to a big city penniless would probably end up with a "thirty-dollar fine or thirty days in jail" rather than a small-town punishment.He now has close to six dollars, most of which is "real" money. He was pleased to find that Swope Park was familiar to him despite all the time.He walked quickly across the park and found the terminus of the park streetcar line.While waiting for the weekday bus, which doesn't have too many flights, he bought a three-color ice cream cone for five cents, and ate it with gusto, enjoying the peace of mind.For another five cents, a long streetcar ride, and another change, he could be in downtown Kansas City.Lazarus enjoyed every minute and wished time had passed more slowly.How peaceful, how clean, and how much shade the city is!What an idyllic flavor! He recalled another visit to his hometown—which century?It should be in the early days of the Great Diaspora.At that time, if citizens were to venture into the dirty narrow streets, they wore a steel helmet like a wig, a bulletproof vest and trousers, protective glasses and brass knuckle gloves like armor, and hidden Prohibited weapons raised by the police - but very few people take to the streets; it is wiser to use transport and only go to policed ​​suburbs. But now, here, even though guns are legal to use — no one carries them. He got out of the car at McGee, and after talking to the police, he found the local YMCA.There, for half a dollar, he got a small bedroom, a towel, and a small bar of soap. After a hearty hot shower, Lazarus returned to the lobby to find a phone at the front desk that read "Five cents for local calls - please pay at the front desk clerk."He asked for the phone book and found "Chapman, Powers & Finegan LLP"—the R. A. Long building, yes, that was it.He searched again and found "Attorney Chapman Arthur J," and the home address. Wait until tomorrow to call?It wouldn't hurt to try, if Justin didn't get the code wrong.He tossed a nickel to the desk clerk and said he wanted to use the phone. "Please tell me the phone number." "Switchboard, get me to 1224 Atwater Street." "Hello, is this the home of Attorney Arthur Chapman?" "I am." "Mr. Ella Howard asked me to call you, lawyer." "Yes. Who are you?" "'Life is short.'" "'Time is long,'" the lawyer replied. "'The days of evil are coming to an end.'" "Very well. What can I do for you, sir? In trouble?" "No, sir. Could you deliver an envelope to the Secretary of the Foundation for me?" "Yes. Can you deliver to my office tomorrow?" "Is it tomorrow morning, sir?" "Nine-thirty. I'm in court at ten." "Thank you, sir; I'll be there on time. Good night." "You're welcome. Good night, sir." There is a writing desk in the lobby with a sign saying to ask the front desk clerk for help, and a reminder: Have you written to your mother this week?Lazarus asked for a piece of paper and an envelope, saying he was going to write home (which was true).The clerk handed him the envelope and paper. "That's exactly what we want to hear, Mr. Jenkins. Is a piece of paper enough?" "If it's not enough, I'll ask you again. Thank you." After breakfast (coffee and a donut, five cents for breakfast), Lazarus found a stationery store on Sheng Avenue and bought a set of five envelopes for fifteen cents.Lazarus went back to the YMCA, wrote all five envelopes, then insisted on delivering the envelopes to Mr. Chapman himself despite the pouting of Chapman's secretary. The outermost envelope reads: Secretary of the Ira Howard Foundation Inside an envelope read: Secretary of the Howard Family Association 2100 A.D. Inside an envelope read: Please keep this letter in the family archives for a thousand years.Storage under inert gas is recommended. The fourth envelope reads: Opened by the current chief archivist in AD 4291. The fifth envelope read: Please give it to Lazarus Long or any one of his family in Tertius. This envelope contained a YMCA envelope with a letter from Lazarus last night; the envelope contained the names of all the members of his home at Boondock, beginning with Rebeth Lazuli and Laurie Lee: August 4, 1916 AD Dear: I made a mistake.I arrived two days ago, three years earlier than planned!But I still want you to pick me up in that crater on the day I left exactly ten Earth years, August 2nd, 1926 AD. Please tell Dora it's not her fault.It could be my fault, it could be Andy's - maybe the instruments we're using aren't precise enough.If Dora wants to recalibrate the time (which is not necessary as the rendezvous time is still the tenth Earth year after I leave), tell her to ask Athena for the eclipse data for this decade - I haven't had time yet This data, because I just arrived in Kansas City. Everything is going smooth.My health is good, I have enough money, and I'm perfectly safe.I'll use all of Justin's suggested correspondence points for letters, and I'll write you guys another long letter - those letters will keep better, I don't have time to etch this one. Kiss everyone for me.There will be a long letter later. With my everlasting love, your man PP: I hope it will be a boy and a girl.If only that was the case!

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