Chapter 35 Chapter Thirty-Five

The taxi performed exactly as Jubal expected from the machinery, and something went wrong and he had to go home to have it overhauled.As a result, Jubal was left in New York City, farther than ever from his destination.He found that no matter what kind of transportation he rented, it was not as fast as taking a commercial flight.There was a delay of several hours, during which time I was locked up with strangers and watched stereo-TV to pass the time. He saw a news break in which Archbishop Short announced that he would launch a jihad against the Antichrist—that is, Mike; he also saw many pictures of the chapel—it was completely destroyed, and he really couldn’t figure out how anyone could escape. come out.TV presenter Augustus Greaves was deeply shocked by all this ... but he did not forget to point out that disputes between neighbors cannot be clapped with a slap; It was the so-called visitor from Mars who thought it was wrong.

Finally, Jubal, huddled in his winter clothes, stood on a municipal tarmac.He found that the palm tree hadn't changed much, it still looked like a poor-quality feather duster.He drooped his face, looked at the sea in the distance, and thought to himself that it was just a big mess of dirty and unstable matter, which was full of grape skins and human excrement.He asked himself what to do next. A man in a uniform cap came up, "Taxi, sir?" "Uh, good." He can find a restaurant, get the media, and do an interview, so that people know where he is. "This way, sir." The driver led him to a tattered yellow taxi.He followed Jubal and stuffed his luggage into the car.At this time, he said softly, "I offer you water."

"What? Never die from thirst." "You are God." The driver closed the door and sat in his compartment. They landed on the roof of a wing of a large seaside hotel, where there are four private parking spaces, and the hotel's shared parking area is on the other side of the building.The driver put the car in "home" mode and let it go away on its own, then picked up Jubal's bag and escorted him inside. "You can't get up here from the lobby, the foyer on this floor is full of cobras. So if you're going down the street, make sure you get someone to show you the way. Get me or somebody—I'm Tim."

"I'm Jubal Harshaw." "I know, Brother Jubal. This way, watch your step." They came to a spacious suite of the utmost luxury and walked into a bedroom with a bathroom."This is your room," Tim said. He put down Jubal's bag and left.On one table Jubal found water, glasses, ice cubes and brandy - his favorite brand.He made himself a drink, took a sip, and with a long sigh of satisfaction, pulled off his heavy jacket.A woman walks in with a tray of sandwiches.Shorts, vests, and aprons are commonplace in this place, more for display than for shame.This one was dressed very differently, and Jubal speculated that she was a hotel maid or something.But she smiled at him, "Drink to your heart's content, never thirsty, our brother." She put down the tray, went to the bathroom to fill him with water, and then checked the bathroom and bedroom, "What else do you need? huh, Jubal?"

"Me? Oh no, all is well. Is Ben Caxton there?" "Yes. He said you definitely want to take a shower first to make yourself comfortable. If you need anything, just talk. Talk to anyone. Or have someone call me. I'm Pat." "Oh! The life of Archangel First." She showed two dimples. Jubal had guessed that she was in her thirties, but this smile made her suddenly much younger. "yes." "I'd love to see it. I'm interested in religious art." "Now? No, I get the idea that you want to take a shower. Unless you want me to help?"

Jubal recalled that her tattooed Japanese friend had suggested that too, many times.But now he just wants to wash off his stinky sweat and change into summer clothes. "No, thank you, Pat. But I really want to, at your convenience." "You're always welcome. There's no rush." ​​She left Jubal's room, quickly but—not in a hurry. It was comfortable in the tub, but Jubal pulled himself out.He opened the luggage that Larry had packed and found that there were no casual summer clothes inside, so he muttered dissatisfiedly.Looks like you'll have to get by with sandals, shorts and a bright t-shirt.It made him look like a spattered man, with his thin, hairy legs standing out.Fortunately, Jubal stopped worrying about these things decades ago.That's fine for now, until he needs to hit the streets...or court.I wonder if there is a reciprocal agreement between the bar association here and Pennsylvania?

He found the living room, which was spacious but, like most hotel facilities, lacked personal touch.Several people are watching stereo TV.Jubal had never seen such a large TV except in a theater.One of them glanced up, got up and walked over to him. "Hi, Jubal." "Hi, Ben. How's the situation? Is Mike still in jail?" "Oh no. He came out not long after I spoke to you." "The date of the first trial has been set?" Ben laughed. "That's not the case, Jubal. They didn't release Mike. He got away." Jubal was exasperated. "I'm so stupid. Now it's good, it will take eight times as hard to win this case."

"Jubbal, I told you not to worry. They thought all of us were dead, and now Mike is missing. So, our dispute with the city government there is a thing of the past, and it doesn't matter. We'll go somewhere else." "They will extradite him." "Don't be afraid. They won't." "Um... where is he? I need to talk to him." "Mike's bedroom is just two rooms away from yours, but he's in retreat. He left you a message telling you not to take any action. If you must see him, Jill can call him out. But I don't recommend you do it. There's no need to rush."

Jubal wished he could talk to Mike right away and give him a hard time for getting into all this trouble.But interrupting Mike in trance was worse than interrupting Jubal, who was dictating a story.The child will naturally end the self-hypnosis after "full enlightenment", otherwise he will have to go back to the hypnosis state.Calling him at this point would be as pointless as waking a hibernating bear. "Fine. But I'll see him when he wakes up." "Of course. Take it easy, you should rest after running this far." Ben pulled him into the crowd around the TV.

Annie looked up, "Hello, boss." She made room for him, "Sit down." Jubal sat down beside her. "May I ask, what the hell are you doing here?" "Same as you did—doing nothing. Don't be stupid, Jubal. We belong here, just like you. But you were upset and we didn't want to argue with you. Take it easy, listen to them What about us. The sheriff just announced that he's going to drive us whores out of town." She smiled a little. Do I have to walk by myself?" "I don't recall any particular protocol for this. Are you all here?"

"Yeah, but don't worry about it. Larry and I made it up a year ago—to be sure. We've got a couple of Malintock boys to watch the house when nobody's around, and they know how the stove works." , Where is the switch, etc.; you can rest assured. "Mmm! I'm beginning to think of myself as nothing more than a boarder." "You told us not to bother you about the house. Anyway, it's a pity you didn't let us go. We got here hours before you did. You must be in trouble." "That's right. Annie, after I go back this time, I'm not going to go out again for the rest of my life... And I have to unplug the phone line, and then bring a sledgehammer to find Jijiguaguazi." "Okay, boss." "I'm serious this time." He glanced at the gigantic chirping box. "Aren't these commercials over yet? Where's my goddaughter? Don't tell me you left her for Marinto The Ke family's stupid son!" "Of course not. She's here with a nanny, thank God." "I want to see her." "Pat will take you. I'm sick of her, she's been a little nuisance all the way. Pat dear! Jubal wants to see Abby." The tattooed woman was walking across the room, calm but fast.She paused. "No problem, Jubal. I happen to be free. This way." "The kids are in my room," she explained to Jubal, who was chasing after her, "so that Sugarbread can watch over them." When he saw Patricia's assistant, Jubal couldn't help being slightly surprised.On the bed was a big boa constrictor line of defense coiled in a circle. A section of the snake's body separated the circle, forming two nests the size of a cradle, with a baby blanket inside each, and each blanket contained a baby. As soon as they entered the door, the snake nanny raised her head inquiringly.Pat stroked her. "It's okay, honey. Papa Jubal wants to see them. Touch her, let her have your inspiration, and she'll know you next time." Jubal's favorite girlfriend clucked and stomped at him, and he cooed and clucked at her, then patted the boa constrictor.Jubal had never seen such a beautiful boa constrictor.I really didn't expect the boa constrictor raised in captivity to grow so long.The interlaced stripes of the sweetbread are distinct in color, and the color of the tail is brighter, so it is not conspicuous.It was a shame he hadn't had time to make friends with Pat's first-class pet, which made him a little jealous. The boa constrictor rubbed its head against his palm like a cat.Pat picked up Abby. "Sweetbread, why didn't you tell me? If the baby needs my help, she will tell me immediately. All she can do is push them back when they want to climb out. But She just can't get the idea that the baby needs to be changed when it's wet - Sugarbread doesn't see anything wrong with that. Neither does Abbie." "I know. We all call her 'On Time Fountain.' Who's that other cutie?" "That's Fatima Michel. I thought you knew." "They're here too? I thought they were in Beirut!" "Oh, they do come from somewhere abroad. Miriam told me, but it's no use telling me. I've never been abroad. I've learned that all places are the same—people and people How much difference can it make? Well, want to hug Abigail? I gotta see Fatima." Jubal picked up Abi, assured her that she was the most beautiful girl in the world, and then said exactly the same thing to Fatima.Both times he meant it, and the girls believed him.Since President Harding came to power until now, Jubal has said this countless times, each time with sincerity, and every time people believe it. When he left, he was reluctant to leave, and he patted the sweetbread and said that sentence to her once. They happened to run into Fatima's mother. "Dear boss!" She kissed him and patted his stomach again, "It seems they haven't forgotten to feed you." "Occasionally. I just held your daughter. What a little angel, Miriam." "Nice baby, isn't it? We're going to sell her to Rio de Janeiro." "I've heard the market in Yemen is better, isn't it?" "The drunkard said it wouldn't work there. She must be sold to make room for it." She put his hand on her belly. "Do you feel it? The drunkard and I are going to make a boy, and we don't have time for a daughter." "Miriam," Patricia scolded, "you can't talk like that." "Sorry, Pat. I wouldn't say that about your child. Aunt Pat was a lady, but she realized I wasn't." "I also realize that you are not, you little villain. But if Fatima wants to sell, no matter what other people ask, I will double it." "Go to Aunt Pat; I'm only allowed to visit Fatima once in a while." "You can't see a tummy at all, so you might want to keep her to yourself. Let me look in your eyes. Mmm... Maybe you're really pregnant." "Certainly. Mike had a very careful epiphany, and told the drunk he made a son." "How could Mike epitomize something like that? I'm not even sure if you're really pregnant." "Oh, she's pregnant, Jubal." Miriam looked at him with a calm face, "Still so suspicious, boss? Mike had an epiphany when we were in Beirut. At that time, we weren't sure if it would work. Mike called. So The alcoholic informed the university that the sabbatical year was coming and we were going on vacation. And here we are." "What are you here for?" "Work. My husband is a slave overseer, boss, busier than when you ordered me." "do what?" "They're writing a Martian dictionary," Pat told him. "Fire-English Dictionary? It must not be easy." "Oh, no!" Miriam's expression was almost inexplicable, "How is that possible! The Martian dictionary can only use Martian language. No one has ever written it before, and the Martians themselves don't need this kind of thing. I just take notes; type what they do. Mike and the drunks--mostly the drunks--made a Martian phonetic chart, eighty-one letters. We converted an IBM typewriter to use the shift key too Dear Boss, I am ruined and can no longer be a secretary; now I am used to Martian typing. From now on you shout 'shorthand', but I can't do anything, will you still love me the same? I haven't forgotten about cooking...and people say I have some other talents." "Don't worry, I'll dictate in Martian." "I get a hunch you will, when Mike and the drunk get you. Don't you, Pat?" "You are right, my brother. They went back to the living room, and Ben Caxton came up and suggested a quieter place to talk.He led Jubal down the corridor and into another living room. "It seems that most of this floor is occupied by you." "All." Ben said, "The four luxury suites - the ministerial suite, the presidential suite, the royal suite and the owner's cabin, are all accessible, and can only be entered from our own helipad...Of course there is also a hall where people can also exit, It's not safe there, though. Someone warned you?" "yes." "We don't have much space right now... but later on it's hard to tell; people come here and there." "Ben, how can you hide it so blatantly? The people at the hotel will leak the news." "The people from the hotel won't come up. You see, the owner of this hotel is Mike." "It's worse if I had to say it." "Unless our valiant Chief of Police buys off Mr. Douglas too. It took four layers of disguise for Mike to buy it. Besides, Douglas never bothered to find out if Mike ordered it. I don't think it's been since Osbert Kilgallen took over my column and Douglas stopped hating me. Another reason is that he didn't want to give up control of that property. The owner of record at this hotel is a secret ninth degree brother of ours .Now the boss is taking this floor for the summer, and the manager won't come to ask why—he loves his job very much. It's a good place to hide, and we'll stay here until Mike has a vision of where we should be." "Listening to you, Mike seems to have expected today." "I dare say so. Mike emptied the nests of the broods two weeks ago--except for Miriam and her baby; Miriam couldn't do without Miriam. Mike sent the parents who had children The other cities, I guess, are places where he's going to build a house of worship. And when it happens, we'll be the only ones left to move. It's no big deal." "But you almost lost your life. Did you lose everything?" "Well, the important stuff was brought out. The drunkard's speech tape, Miriam's modified typewriter—not even your portrait. Mike also grabbed some clothes and cash." Jubal was a little skeptical: "Are you saying that Mike did that? Wasn't Mike still in prison at the time?" "His body is in the cell, huddled up. But he's with us. Do you understand?" "I don't understand." "Possessed. Most of the time, he's in Jill's head, right next to us. Jubal, I can't explain it to you; you'll have to try it yourself. He moved us here as soon as the explosion happened. Then he went back to salvage other things." Jubal frowned.Caxton said impatiently, "Telemetry, what's the point, Jubal? You told me to open my eyes and admit it when I saw miracles. I listened to you, and they happened too. . except that they are not miracles, just as radio is not a miracle. Do you have any insight into radios? Or stereo television? Or computers?" "I do not." "Me too. But if I take the time and effort to learn the language of electronics, I can do it; it's not a miracle, it's just complicated. Once you learn the language, teleportation is just as easy. It's language." "Ben, can you do it?" "Me? This is not a kindergarten subject. In name, I am a deacon. This is just a 'first call'. I have actually progressed only to the fourth grade, and I have just begun to learn to control my body. Pat Is the only one who teleports regularly...but I don't know if Mike is assisting her when she does it. Mike says she has the ability. But Pat is weirdly naive, she's a genius, but very Humble, always feel like I have to depend on Mike. I don't really have to. Jubal, I got an epiphany: We don't really need Mike. The visitor from Mars could have been you. Or me. Mike is like the first to find out The fire man. The fire is always there. Anyone can use it if he tells everyone what to do...Anyone with enough sense to know not to let themselves get burned. See what I mean?" "A part of enlightenment." "Mike is our Prometheus—that's all. Mike keeps emphasizing this. You're God, I'm God, he's God, and all that's enlightened is God. Mike's the same as the rest of us. Of course, he was a remarkable man. If someone less noble to teach the Martian knowledge, he might make himself a boring fairy. Mike disdains the temptation. Prometheus... That's all." Jubal said slowly, "Prometheus paid a dear price for bringing fire to mankind." "Don't think Mike didn't! His price was twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, just to teach us how to use a match without burning our hands. Jill and Pat wouldn't let him do it, and make him rest every week One night, and that was long before I came here." Caxton laughed, "but you can't stop Mike. This place is full of casinos, and since gambling is illegal here, most places rip off .So Mike gambled his time off—to win money. They attacked him, tried to kill him, narcotics, muscular man, everything. Finally everyone knew, he was the luckiest guy in here . . . which drew more people to our house of worship. In the end, they refused to let him through the doors of the casino—what a miscalculation. Ken rolls, and the dice come up twelve every time. At the end of the day, they just give in... let him win a few thousand dollars, and then ask him to play another game. As long as they're polite, Mike is easy to talk to." Caxton added: "So there's one more force against us. Not just the Fosterists and others, but the gambling syndicates and the city's political machine. The ones who set the fire, I suppose, are experts, V. Sturt's thugs probably didn't intervene." As they talked, the constant in-and-outs, gatherings and dispersals gave Jubal a particularly unusual feeling: these people were neither rushed, calm, and bursting with dynamic tension.No one was excited, no one was in a hurry...yet they seemed to have a purpose in everything they did, even the apparently unplanned gestures—such as kisses or greetings when they met.It seemed to Jubal that every movement had been predesigned by the choreographer. A serene but ever-increasing tension—or "anticipation" would be a better word; these people don't have that nerve-wracking tension at all.It reminded Jubal of something.Is it surgery?Just like a good surgeon, there is no noise, no unnecessary movements. He remembered.Many years ago, when human beings first started manned space exploration, they used chemically driven rockets. He once watched the live broadcast of the countdown from a log cabin.In retrospect, there were similar murmurs, loose, disjointed yet coordinated action, and an equally exuberant, rising anticipation during that time.They are "waiting for fulfillment," no doubt about it.But what are they waiting for?Why are you so happy?Their house of worship, everything they built was destroyed... and these people looked like children on Christmas Eve. When Ben first went to the nest, he had been disturbed by the custom of nudity; but Jubal had just arrived at the hotel to find that, although no one else was around, everyone seemed to be clothed.When he finally saw someone naked, he didn't even find it odd at all; it was like a close family here, and he was so absorbed in the atmosphere that it didn't matter whether he was clothed or not. It wasn't the bare flesh that first drew his attention to the clothing problem, but a cascade of black hair, so thick and beautiful that he had never seen it before.They belonged to a young woman who walked in, spoke to a man, blew Ben a kiss, gave Jubal a serious look, and went out.Jubal followed her with his eyes, watching Midnight's wings flutter in the air.It wasn't until she disappeared that Jubal realized that she was completely naked except for her queenly hair... and then realized that she wasn't the only brother dressed like that. Ben caught his gaze. "That's Ruth," he said, "the new high priest. She and her husband were on the other side of the country, I think, for a branch of the church. It's good to have them back. So it seems, Chances are the whole family will be going home." "What beautiful hair. Wish she had it longer." "Why didn't you call her?" "what?" "I dare say Ruth came in to catch a look at you—they must have just arrived. Don't you see? Everybody hardly comes our way?" "Um...that's right." Jubal was always on the lookout for avoiding inappropriate intimacy—but found himself missing the mark.He was warmly treated, but it was more like a kitten's politeness than an overly affectionate puppy. "Everybody's very interested in you coming up here, and they're all eager to see you sooner...but they're all intimidated by you." "I?" "Oh, didn't I tell you last summer? You're a myth, unreal, exaggerated. Mike told them that of all the humans he'd ever known, you're the only one who can 'full epiphany without learning Martian language. ’. Most people think you can read people’s minds as easily as Mike.” "Nonsense! I suppose you've corrected the nonsense?" "What right do I have to destroy a legend? Maybe you are what they think you are, anyway, you won't admit it yourself. They are a little afraid of you-you eat a baby for breakfast and shake the mountain with a roar. As long as Anyone would love to come over if you asked... but they wouldn't press you. Even Mike stands at attention when you talk, everybody knows that." Jubal dismisses Ben's nonsense with a fiery word. "Of course," Ben agreed, "Mike has his blind spots. I told you he's human too. But you're already a Patronus—and you can't get away with it." "Ah . . . there's somebody I know over there, just coming in. Jill! Jill! Here, dear!" The woman turned around hesitantly, "I'm Dawn. But thank you." She came over, and Jubal thought she was going to kiss him.But she knelt down on one knee and pressed a kiss on one of his hands, "Father Jubal, welcome, we deeply understand you." Jubal jerked his hand back. "Well, for heaven's sake, boy! Get up and sit down. Share the water." "Yes, Father Jubal." "Eh? Call me Jubal—and, get word out, I don't like being thought of as a leper. I'm in my own home—at least I hope so." "You're right... Jubal." "So I expect people to call me Jubal and treat me like a water brother—no more, no less. The first one who treats me respectfully stays after school! Enlightenment?" "Yes, Jubal," she said, "I've told them." "Uh?" "What Dawn means," Ben explained, "is that she's told Pat—I'm guessing Pat—and Pat has told anyone who can hear—everyone who can hear people, and they'll pass the word on to deaf brothers like me." "That's right," Dawn said, "except I told Jill. Pat's out and Michael needs something. Jubal, have you seen TV? It's exciting." "What? No." "You mean about the escape, Dawn?" "Yes, Ben." "We haven't gotten there yet. Jubal, Mike didn't just break out of the jail and go home, he left a lot of miracles for them to figure out. The bars and iron gates of the county jail disappeared when he left . . . the same in the nearby state prison. He also disarmed all the cops. Partly to keep them busy for a while, partly because Mike had a deep-rooted disdain for incarcerating others. Whoever it was, for whatever reason. He realized a big mistake from it." "Like him," Jubal agreed. "Mike is gentle. He'd be sad if anyone was locked up. I agree." Ben shook his head. "Mike is not gentle, Jubal, and killing people is fine with him. But he's the ultimate anarchist. It's wrong to imprison others. Freedom of self—and absolute personal responsibility of self. You are God." "There's no contradiction between the two. Sometimes killing is necessary - and imprisoning him is destroying his integrity - and destroying your own integrity as well." Ben looked at him. "Mike was right. You did have a full epiphany - the way Mike did. I'm not quite... I'm still learning." He turned his head. "What's their reaction , Dawn?" She giggled. "It's like someone stabbed a hornet's nest. The mayor was foaming at the mouth and kept pleading for state and federal troops to send in reinforcements - and they did. Plenty of troop carriers were landing. But the guys just got off the bus Mike stripped them all—not just the weapons, not even the shoes. As soon as the car was empty, the car was gone." Says Ben: "I realized he was going to stay locked up until they stopped. With so many details to deal with, I'm afraid he would have to stretch his sense of time infinitely." Dawn said thoughtfully, "I don't think so, Ben. If it were me, it would be like this, even if it's only one out of ten. But as far as I know, even if Mike was doing something else at the same time, For example, riding a bicycle on his head and feet, he is also fine." "Hmm... I don't know, I'm still in the puddle stage myself." Ben stood up. "Sometimes you miracle makers give me a headache, sweetheart. I want Go watch some TV," he kissed her, "you treat Papa Jubal; he likes little girls." Caxton strode away, followed by a pack of cigarettes, and put himself in his in the pocket. "Did you do it, or Ben?" Jubal asked Eun. "Ben. He keeps forgetting his cigarettes; they chased him all over the place in the nest." "Mm... the mud he squeezed is really not small." "Ben's progress is actually fast, but he won't admit it. He's a very holy man." "Well, Dawn, you're the Dawn I met at Foster Chapel, aren't you?" "Oh, you remember!" Look at her face, as if Jubal just handed her a lollipop. " "Of course. But you've changed, and you look much more beautiful." "That's because I am more beautiful," she replied simply. "You took me for Jill just now. She is also more beautiful." "Where's the child? I thought I'd see her right away." "She's working." Dawn paused, "But I've already told her, and she will come." She paused again, "I have to go for her. Let me go first." "Go, boy." Dawn stood up, and Dr. Mahmed sat down almost at the same time. Jubal looked at him sourly, "If you had any manners, you would have told me you were coming. As a result, I had to meet my goddaughter through a snake." "Oh, Jubal, you're always in such a hurry." "Sir, when a person—" A pair of hands covered his eyes, interrupting his high-spirited speech.A voice asked, "Guess who I am?" "Fallen Angel?" "Guess again." "Lady Macbeth?" "There is progress. Guess again, one last chance." "Jill, stop it. Come and sit next to me." "Okay, father." She sat down obediently. "Also, don't call me 'Father' except at home. I was just saying, sir, that when a man reaches my age, he has to be in a hurry. Every sunrise is a treasure... because The next sunset may never come." Mahmed smiled and said, "Jubbal, do you think that if you die, the earth will stop spinning?" "There's no doubt about it, sir—from my point of view." Miriam crept up, and sat down beside Jubal like Jill; he put his arm around her, "You see, I don't I miss your ugly face... Although my former secretary was a little better than you, I also don't have much nostalgia—" Miriam whispered: "Boss, do you miss the feeling of being kicked in the stomach? I am absolutely beautiful, this is an authoritative opinion—" "Quiet - though, the new goddaughter is a whole other story. I almost missed Fatima Michele in person just because you guys failed to send a postcard. I'm coming back to haunt you." "If that's the case," Miriam pointed out, "you came to pester us just in time to see Fatima...and watch her eat a carrot and put it on her hair. It must be disgusting." "I was just a metaphor." "Not mine. She's a dirty glutton." "Boss," Jill asked softly, "why are you using metaphors?" "What? Because I don't think 'ghost' is a concept I need, it can only appear in metaphors." "The concept of ghosts is more than that," Jill insisted. "Well, maybe. But I'd rather meet a live baby, and it would be even better if I was alive and kicking myself." Dr. Ahmad said, "That's what I was going to say, Jubal. You're far from dead. Mike had a vision of you. He said you had many years to live." Jubal shook his head. "I've set a deadline for myself. It's a three-digit number." "Which three numbers, boss?" Miriam asked innocently, "The three you used?" He shook her, "Don't be so shameless!" "Drunkards say women should be shameless, but they shouldn't be heard." "Your husband is right. The day my clock hit triple digits for the first time I disintegrated, either Martian style or my own stupid way. You don't want to take it away. The shower after the game is the game the best part of it.” "I see you're right, Jubal," Jill said slowly, "I mean the shower part. But don't expect it anytime soon. Your fulfillment isn't here yet. Alex only figured it out last week Your horoscope." "Heavenly diagram? Oh my God! Who is this 'Alex'? How dare she! Bring her to me! For God's sake, I'm taking her to the career advancement office and finding her another job .” "I'm afraid not, Jubal," interposed Mahmed. "She's compiling our dictionary. Who is she? She's Mrs. Alexandra Vesant." Jubal's eyes lit up: "Becky? Is she also in this madhouse?" "Yes, Becky. We have another Becky here, so everyone calls her 'Alex.' Don't laugh at her horoscope, Jubal; she has eyes." “哦，胡说八道，酒鬼。占星术是骗人的把戏，你心里清楚。” “哦，当然。亚历自己也知道，而且大多数占星术士都是蠢头蠢脑的骗子。但亚历现在比过去还要热衷占星，她用上了火星人的算法和天文学——比我们的完满得多。那是她灵悟的手段。其实，无论是一池水、一个水晶球还是一只鸡的内脏，用什么东西都行。媒介无关紧要。是迈克建议她继续使用自己熟悉的符号。关键在于：她有天眼。” “你那'天眼'到底是他妈的什么意思，酒鬼？” “能在更大范围内灵悟宇宙，而不仅仅限于自己身边的一小片，这就是天眼。迈克也有，但那是通过在火星的多年修行；亚历是半个行家，只是没受过训练。她使用的是占星术这类毫无意义的符号，但这没有关系。念珠也一样没有意义——我说的是穆斯林念珠，我不会批评我们的竞争对手。”马哈迈德从口袋里掏出一串，拿在手里数起来，“假如打牌时转转帽子能让你的手风顺起来，那转帽子就有用。帽子本身的确没有魔力，但这无所谓。” 朱巴尔看着对方手里的伊斯兰装备，冒险提了个问题，“你还是信徒？我还以为你已经完全皈依了迈克的教会呢。” 马哈迈德把念珠放好，“两者我都做了。” “什么？酒鬼，这二者是矛盾的。” “只在表面上。你可以说米丽安皈依了我的宗教，我也皈依了她的。可是，朱巴尔我亲爱的兄弟，我仍然是神的奴仆，顺从他的意志……可同时我也可以说：'你是上帝，我是上帝，所有灵悟的都是上帝。'先知从没说过自己是世上最后一位先知，也从没宣称自己已经讲完了所有该讲的话。顺从神的意志不是当个机器人，无法选择，也就无法犯罪。我，以及每一个人，我们都在塑造宇宙，并且对自己塑造宇宙的方式负有绝对的责任——顺从可以包括，而且的确包括这一点。是进入天国的乐园，还是开始破坏和毁灭，完全取决于我们自己的行为。”他微微一笑，“容我借用一句《圣经》里的话，'在神凡事都能'。但有一点却不可能：神无法逃避自己，他必须永远顺从他自己的意志。伊斯兰教将永世长存，它无法逃避自己的责任。上帝无法逃避，同样的责任属于他——属于我……属于你……也属于迈克。” 朱巴尔长叹一声：“酒鬼，提起神学我就浑身不舒服。贝基在哪儿？二十来年里，我只见过她一次，太久了。” “你会见到她的。但现在她没法停下来，她在录音。是这样的，我每天都坚持跟迈克进行精神联系——只是一小会儿，不过感觉上就像整整工作八个钟头一样。过后我会立刻把他倒给我的东西口述出来，录到磁带上，由其他受过火星语语音训练的人把磁带上的内容誊写下来。米丽安用一台特殊的打字机把这些手稿打出来，之后我或者迈克——最好是迈克，但他的时间太紧——再校正这份原本拷贝。 “不过，现在迈克灵悟到他要送我和米丽安去别处完成这项工作。或者更确切地说，他灵悟到我们会灵悟这样一个需要。所以迈克忙着让人录下成年累月的磁带，好让我把它们带走，改写成语音符号。除此之外，我们还有成堆的演讲录音，全是迈克用火星语讲的。词典写好之后，这些录音资料也必须整理。” “迈克这么忙，却还是改变了工作方法，所以我不得不假定米丽安和我很快就要离开。这里有八间配录音机的卧室，能胜任的人有帕特、吉尔、我自己、米丽安、你的朋友亚历，还有其他一些人。这些人轮流进去。迈克让我们入定，然后把语言——定义、习语、概念——一股脑儿地倒进我们脑子里，那一小会儿就像好几个钟头一样漫长……之后我们趁着新鲜立刻把它们口述出来。但这活儿不是谁都能干的。你必须发音清晰，还要能把一段段入定的时间连接起来，再把结果吐出来。就拿萨姆来说吧，他什么都好，就是口音不行——他竟然能用一口布鲁克斯腔讲火星语，天晓得怎么会有那种本事。所以我们没法用他，不然到时候纠错太费功夫。亚历现在干的就是这个，口述录音。完全记忆需要保持半入定状态，要是被打断，还没录下来的东西就全没了。” “我灵悟了。”朱巴尔道，“但贝基·韦桑特竟然当上了火星语专家，这画面一时还有点儿难适应。话说回来，她的确是娱乐圈里最棒的读心师，能把呆子吓得灵魂出窍。酒鬼，你们要真想找个清静地方录磁带，干吗不回家来呢？新盖的侧楼里地方多着呢。” “或许我们会的。耐心等待。” “甜心，”米丽安热切地说，“这主意我肯定会喜欢的——假如迈克把我们撵出巢去的话。” “你是说，假如我们灵悟到应该离巢。” “一个意思。” “你说得对，我最亲爱的。不过这里究竟什么时候开饭呢？我有种特别非火星的紧迫感。巢里的招待可比这儿好多了。” “心肝儿，帕特不但要帮你弄那本可恶的老词典，还要保证大家都舒舒服服的，再加上为迈克跑腿。你还指望自己肚子一饿她就把吃的端上桌？朱巴尔，酒鬼永远也当不了祭司——他是肚皮的奴隶。” “唔，我也一样。” “你们这些姑娘也该去帮帮帕特。”她丈夫又说。 “多么赤裸裸的暗示。其实你心里淸楚得很：只要是她肯让别人干的活儿，我们早就干了，再说托尼几乎不让任何人进他的厨房。”她站起来，“来吧，朱巴尔，咱们去瞧瞧煮了些什么。要是你去参观厨房，托尼保准高兴。” 朱巴尔跟她去见了托尼，对方耷拉着脸，可一认出米丽安身边的人便马上喜形于色，自豪地炫耀起自己的工作间来——整个过程始终伴随着谩骂：那些放火烧巢的大混蛋，竟然毁掉了“他的”厨房！在此期间，一把勺子自力更生，继续搅动一盆意大利面的调味普。 不久之后，大家围着一张长桌用餐。朱巴尔拒绝坐首席，只随便找了个位置。帕特坐在桌子末尾，首席的椅子一直空着……可朱巴尔总有种感觉，好像火星来客就坐在那把椅子上，每个人都能瞧见，只除了他自己。他使劲把这种感觉压了下去。 朱巴尔对面是纳尔逊大夫。 他发现自己一点也不吃惊。说真的，要是纳尔逊大夫不在他才会觉得奇怪呢。他朝对方点点头，“嗨，斯温。” “嗨，医生。分享水。” “永离干渴。你是什么职务？队医？” 纳尔逊摇摇头，“学医的学生。” “啊。学到些什么没有？” “我认识到医学是不必要的。” “这我也能告诉你，可惜你没问。见过范吗？” “快到了，要么今晚，要么明早。他的船今天刚降落。” “他总来这儿？” “范上的是函授班。能花在这儿的时间不多。” “能见到他可太好了。我整整一年都没瞧见那家伙。”之后，纳尔逊同自己右手边的朵卡丝说话，朱巴尔也跟坐在自己右边的男人聊起来。在饭桌上，他又一次注意到了那种兴奋的期待，比先前更强烈了。他全然摸不着头脑。明明只是一次亲密、放松的家庭晚宴，不是吗？有一次，一杯水在桌上传递，传到朱巴尔手里时，他抿了一口，又把它递给了自己左边的姑娘。那姑娘一双圆圆的眼睛，对他又敬又畏，整晚都没敢跟他聊上一句。朱巴尔道：“我献给你水。” 她奋力挤出一句：“我谢谢你的水，朱巴尔父——朱巴尔。”之后他再也没能从她那儿听到半个字。玻璃杯绕桌一圈，来到首席那张空着的椅子前，里头还剩半寸高的水。杯子升起来，杯口向下倾斜，水消失了；空杯子又把自己放回到桌布上。朱巴尔确信自己刚参加了一次核心神庙的“水分享”仪式……很可能还是专门为他准备的。他原本以为他的欢迎会还有场酒神狂欢呢。是因为他们身处陌生的环境吗？或者是他的作祟，让他对情况作出了误判？ 又或者是为了照顾他，才把那个部分省掉了？ 这个理论似乎最为合理——而且让他恼怒。他告诉自己，这正合他的心意，免得还要想方设法去拒绝那些他根本不想接受的邀请。再说了，无论多大岁数，他都不会喜欢那种调调儿，不合他的口味。 但他还是恼怒不已。damn it! “谁也别提溜冰的事儿，那样不礼貌。爷爷年纪大了，身子骨又弱。希尔达，你来提议玩多米诺，然后我们大家一起响应——爷爷喜欢多米诺。要溜冰咱们另找时间。行吗，孩子们？” 朱巴尔恨这个想法——他几乎宁愿溜冰，即使摔破屁股也在所不惜。 他开始跟右手边的男人聊天，好把这个念头从脑子里赶出去。对方的名字是萨姆。 “这次的挫折只是表面上的。”萨姆安慰他说，“蛋已经准备好孵化了，现在我们就要开始扩张。当然啰，遇上麻烦是免不了的。所有的社会都一样，不会听凭别人挑战自己的基本准则。而我们却要挑战一切，从财产的神圣性到婚姻的神圣性。一切。” “财产？” “如今的这种财产观念。迄今为止，迈克只是刮了几个使诈的赌徒。可想想看，要是出现成千上万，甚至百万千万有迈克这种本领的人呢？银行的保险柜再也没法阻止他们。如果没有自律的约束，他们完全可以想拿什么就拿什么，那时候又怎么办？没错，自律的约束比任何法律更加强大，问题是任何银行家都无法灵悟这一点，除非他自己走过荆棘丛生的道路，达到自律……但那以后他就不再是一个银行家了。假如先觉者知道股票的走势，股市会怎么样？” "you know?" 萨姆摇摇头，“没兴趣。不过那边的索尔——另外那个犹太人，我的表兄弟——他和亚历一起灵悟过。迈克尔要他们谨慎行事，不能下大注，而且他们还用了一打的假户头。但关键在于，任何修行过的兄弟，只要是跟没有觉醒的人竞争，任何财产都是手到擒来：房地产、股市、赛马、赌博，随你挑。不，金钱和财产不会消失——迈克尔说这两个观念都很有用——但它们会被翻个底朝天，大家都得学习新的法则（就像我们一样，这可不是件容易的事）否则就毫无指望，只能被别人远远抛在后头。要是从地球到月球最常见的交通工具变成了遥感传送，环月公司会怎么样？” “我该买吗，还是卖？” “问索尔吧。他或许会利用现存的公司，或许会让它破产。也可能一两个世纪之内都不去动它。但到头来，任何行业都跑不掉。孩子会比老师知道的更多，老师该怎么管教孩子？大家都健健康康的，医生又该怎么办？服装产业呢？衣服不再是必不可少的，女人对穿着打扮也没那么热衷了（但永远都不会完全失去兴趣）——而且就算你光着屁股也没人在乎。等到人们可以命令野草不要生长、收割的时候不再需要万国农机公司，所谓的'农业问题'又会变成什么样？修行将改变一切，任何东西。咱们随便举个能同时撼动婚姻——如今这种形式的婚姻——和财产的例子吧。朱巴尔，你知道这个国家每年要在避孕药物和器械上花多少钱吗？” “知道个大概，萨姆。光在口服避孕药上就得花个十亿左右……不止一半都用在了无用的专利配方上。” “哦，我差点忘了，你是搞医学的。” “只是顺便搞搞。” “假如女人仅仅在自愿的情况下才会怀孕，在她对疾病免疫、只需要关心亲人是不是赞成的情况下怀孕……假如她的心理取向改变，全心全意地渴望交合，其程度连克利奥帕特拉也相形见绌——而同时只要她灵悟到有这个必要，任何企图强暴她的男人眨眼间就会送了命，快到他根本来不及弄明白是怎么回事……到那时，会出现什么情况？假如女人摆脱了负罪感和恐惧，同时再没有人能伤害她们呢？见鬼，制药业不过是个极小的例子，还有多少行业、法律、制度、态度、偏见和诸如此类的蠢事会一去不复返？” “我没能完满地灵悟，”朱巴尔承认，“我个人对这个问题并不十分感兴趣。” “但有一个制度不会受到伤害。婚姻。” "really?" “千真万确。婚姻会被净化、加固，让人可以忍受。忍受？让人如痴如醉！看见那个一头黑色长发的女人了吗？” “嗯。它的美让我心旷神怡。” “她知道它很美，自从我们加入教会以来，又长了一英尺半。那是我妻子。仅仅一年多以前，我们在一起时还像两只坏脾气的狗。她妒忌……我则对她不闻不问。厌倦。见鬼，我们都厌倦了，只不过为了孩子才没分开——还有她的占有欲；我心里明白，不闹出丑闻来她是不会放我走的……至于我，我都这把年纪了，也没有精力再组成一个新家庭。所以我就时不时地瞅准了机会偷点儿腥——教授遇到的诱惑很多，可想掩人耳目却不容易。露丝只好默默地把苦水往肚里咽。当然有时候也不是那么沉默。后来我们加入了教会。”萨姆高高兴兴地咧嘴一笑，“我又爱上了我妻子。头号女朋友！” 萨姆这话是对朱巴尔一个人说的，他的声音应该被周围的嗡嗡声盖住了，再说他妻子的座位也离他们很远。可她却抬起头，清清楚楚地说：“他太夸张了，朱巴尔。我大概排第六号。” 她丈夫喊道：“别钻进我脑子里，美人！这是男人之间的谈话。把你的注意力都放在拉里身上吧。”说着，他随手扔了个硬面包卷过去。 露丝让它停在途中，接着又把它推了回来，“拉里想要的注意力我都给了……或许待会儿还会增加些。朱巴尔，那畜生没让我说完。第六位棒极了！我们加人之前，他的名单上根本没有我。整整二十年，我在他心里从来没排到这么前头。” “关键在于，”萨姆说，“现在我们是伙伴了，比在外边的任何时候都更加亲密。这靠的是训练，与接受同样训练的人一起达到分享和增长亲近的顶点。这个圈子里的所有人最后都会建立两两配对的伙伴关系，通常都是跟法律上的原配。也可能不是……在这种情况下，调整的时候不会有悲伤，'离婚'的那一对之间还会产生更温暖、更和谐的关系，无论是在床上还是床下。没有损失，全是收获。嘿，配对的甚至不一定是一男一女。比如道恩和吉尔——她们一起工作的默契劲儿就跟一对杂技演员似的。” “呣……我本来当她们都是迈克的妻子呢。” “如果说她们是迈克的妻子，那她们也同样是我们所有人的妻子。迈克自己也和我们一样。但他一直那么忙，至多只能保证让大家都分享到他，除此之外就没工夫了。”萨姆又补充道，“假如真有谁称得上迈克的妻子，那就是帕特，尽管她也忙得很。他们的关系精神多过肉体。说到床笫之事嘛，迈克和帕特都吃了不少亏。” 帕特离他们比露丝还远，可她抬起头来说道：“萨姆亲爱的，我并不觉得自己吃了亏。” “什么？”萨姆苦着脸说，“这个教会只有一个毛病——男人简直一点隐私也没有！” 这话给他招来了女性兄弟的围攻。他连手也没动就把飞来的炮弹——扔了回去……直到一盘意大利面结结实实扣到他的脸上。朱巴尔注意到，这场战斗的始作俑者是朵卡丝。 有那么几秒钟，萨姆活像车祸的受害者。但他的脸马上变得干干净净，连溅到朱巴尔汗衫上的酱汁也消失得无影无踪。“别再给她吃的，托尼。她浪费食物；让她饿着。” “厨房里还多的是。”托尼回答道，“萨姆，你配意大利面还真好看。味道不错吧？”朵卡丝的盘子飘了出去，又装了一满盘回来。 “棒极了，”萨姆赞道，“有些砸到嘴上，被我抢救出来了。是什么做的？或许我不该问？” “警察臊子。” 没人发笑。朱巴尔琢磨着这笑话究竟是不是笑话。突然，他意识到自己的兄弟们时常微笑，却很少笑出声来。当然，拿警察做菜应该是不错的。只不过这酱用的不可能是那些猪猡的人肉臊子，否则味道该像猪肉，这面却有股牛肉味儿。 他换了个话题。“我最喜欢这个宗教的地方就在于——” “'宗教'？” “好吧，就说教会吧。” “没错，”萨姆表示同意，“它实现了教会的一切功能，它的准神学与许多真正的宗教旗鼓相当。所以我才会一头扎了进来，因为我曾经是个坚定的无神论者。现在，我成了高阶祭司，真不知道自己究竟是什么了。” “你似乎说过你是犹太人？” “祖祖辈辈都是拉比，所以我才成了无神论者。瞧瞧我现在成了什么样子。不过索尔和我妻子露丝才是宗教意义上的犹太人。跟索尔谈谈，你会发现那并不是障碍。至于露丝，一旦突破了瓶颈，她进步的速度大大超过了我；我成为祭司的时间比她晚多了。不过她是那种很灵性的人，能用性腺考虑问题。我嘛就比较麻烦，我得用两只耳朵之间那块地方。” “修行，”朱巴尔从刚才被打断的地方接着说道，“我喜欢的就是这个。我小时候人家教我信一个宗教，它根本不要求任何人知道任何东西。只要忏悔、得救，于是你就踏踏实实地躺进了耶稣怀里。一个人可能蠢得连羊都不会数……可仅仅因为他'皈依'了，就放心大胆地当定了上帝的选民，保证能享受永福。他甚至可能没学过《圣经》，更没必要知道别的东西。据我灵悟，这个教会不接受这种'皈依'——” “你灵悟得没错。” “—个人必须一开始就乐于学习，加上持久、艰苦的努力。我灵悟这样做是有益的。” “不止是有益，”萨姆表示赞同，“而是不可或缺。缺少语言就无法思考那些概念，修行带给我们许许多多益处——从怎样和平共处到怎样取悦你的妻子，而修行来源于概念性的逻辑……理解你是谁，你为什么在这里，你是如何运转的——并且采取相应的行动。快乐只是顺应人性行事而已……但英文中的词语不过是些空洞的同义反复。在火星语里，词语却构成一整套操作细则。我跟你说过吗，我来这里之前得了癌症？” “什么？没有。” “当时自己都不知道。迈克尔灵悟了，送我出去做X光之类的，好让我能确信。后来我们一起解决了它。'信仰'疗法。一个'奇迹'。医院管它叫'自发康复'，我灵悟这意味着'我好了'。” 朱巴尔点点头，“这是专业上的含糊其辞。有些癌症的确会自己消失，我们从不知道原因。” “我知道为什么我的癌症消失了。那时候我已经开始能够控制自己的身体。再加上迈克帮忙，我修复了身体的损伤。现在我不需要帮助也能办到了。想感觉一颗停跳的心脏吗？” “谢谢。我在迈克身上已经观察过了。要是你说的那个真是什么'信仰疗法'，我尊敬的同事纳尔逊医生就不会来这里了。我灵悟那是自主控制。” “抱歉。我们都知道你能灵悟。” “呣……我不能管迈克叫骗子，他不是。可在对我的问题上，他确实带了些偏见。” 萨姆摇摇头，“整个晚餐期间我都在跟你交谈。尽管迈克说了那些话，我还是想亲自确认。你灵悟了。要是你肯费神去学火星语，真不知道你还能揭示些什么。” “什么也没有。我是个老头子，已经没什么可贡献的了。” “我持保留意见。所有初召者都必须解决语言的问题，否则就无法取得任何实质性的进展。就连你留在身边的那三个也有特别强化的辅导，他们过来的次数虽然不多，可来这里的大部分时间都处在人定的状态。所有人，除了你……而你并不需要它。除非你想不用毛巾就从脸上抹掉意大利面，但我灵悟你对这个并没什么兴趣。” “只喜欢看别人这么干。” 大多数人已经离开了餐桌。愿走就走，不必顾虑什么礼节。露丝过来站在他们身边，“你们俩准备在这儿坐一整晚吗？也许该把你们和盘子一起挪出去？” “我是个妻管严。来吧，朱巴尔。”萨姆起身吻了吻自己的妻子。 他们在有立体电视的房间停下来。“有新消息吗？”萨姆问。 一个人回答道：“县检察官一直在唠叨，说今天的天灾人祸都是我们搞的鬼……咱们究竟怎么弄的他当然是一头雾水，不过这个他倒一点没提起。” “可怜的家伙。一口咬上了条木头腿，牙正疼呢。”他们找了个安静些的房间，萨姆道，“我说过，这些麻烦是意料之中的——而且情况会越来越糟，直到我们控制了足够的公众舆论、被社会容忍为止。但迈克并不着急。我们关闭了寰宇教，确实已经关闭了。我们换个地方，建立'唯一信仰宗'——然后又被踢出局。于是我们就到别的地方建立'大金字塔神殿'——又胖又蠢的女人会蜂拥而至，最后有些人会变得既不胖也不蠢——直到那地方的医学会、律师协会、报纸和政客都冲咱们汪汪叫。哈，到那时，我们就再换个地方，成立'浸礼兄弟会'。每一次都会赢得一些中坚分子，他们会达到自律，再不受外界伤害。这一切两年前才起步，当时迈克自己都缺乏信心，只有三个没受过训练的女祭司协助。现在我们已经有了一个坚固的巢……还有一批程度很高的信徒，今后可以随时跟他们联系。有一天我们会足够强大，再没人能迫害我们。” “嗯，”朱巴尔赞同道，“耶稣只靠十二个门徒就搞出了好大的动静。” 萨姆高兴地咧开嘴，“而且是个犹太小伙子。谢谢你提到他。他是我们一族里最成功的故事——虽说许多人从不谈起他，其实我们一个个心里清楚着呢。他是个行了好事的犹太小伙子，我为他骄傲。请注意，耶稣从没企图在星期三之前把事情全部干完。他创立了一个健全的组织，然后让它慢慢成长。迈克也很耐心。耐心在修行中的分量太大了，它已经不再是耐心了，每个人都会不假思索、自然而然地这么做。永远不要匆忙。” “在任何时候，这都是个合理的态度。” “它不是态度，是修行之功。朱巴尔，我灵悟到你累了。你想变得不累吗？或者你宁愿上床睡觉？要是你不去睡觉，我们的兄弟们会整晚跟你交谈。你知道，我们是不怎么睡的。” 朱巴尔打个哈欠，“我想不慌不忙地泡个热水澡，然后睡上八个钟头。明天再跟我们的兄弟聊天吧……明天，还有其他日子。” “还有其他许多日子。” 朱巴尔找到自己的房间，帕特立刻出现了，帮他放热水，没动手就铺好了床，接着把瓶子杯子放在他床边，又为他调好一杯酒，放到浴缸旁的架子上。朱巴尔没有催她；她是来展示文身的。朱巴尔十分了解文身综合症，如果他不要求细细查看一番，帕特会觉得很委屈。 他脱下衣服，并没有感到本在类似场合所经历的那种慌乱。上一次让人看见自己的裸体已经是好多年之前了，但朱巴尔发现他仍然能够无动于衷，心底不禁涌起一种带着一丝自嘲的骄傲。 帕特对这些更是毫不介意；她先摸了摸水温是否合适，接着让到一边，让朱巴尔踏进浴缸里。 之后她留下来，告诉他每一幅图表达的是什么，还有应该以怎样的顺序观看。 朱巴尔的景仰和恭维恰到好处，完全是以一个艺术批评家的身份在说话，不带一点个人感情。他暗地里承认，在所有用一根针所展现的艺术中，这他妈的确实是最上乘的。他的日本朋友比起帕特来，其差别有如一块廉价垫子之于最精美的博卡拉公主地毯。 “它们一直在改变，细微的改变。”帕特告诉他，“就拿这边圣人诞生的场景来说吧，背后那堵墙开始有了些弧线……床也变得像是医院的桌子。我敢说乔治是不会介意的。自从他上了天堂，从没有一根针碰过我的身子……如果这些改变都是奇迹，我敢保证他肯定也插了一手。” 朱巴尔的结论是，帕特有些疯疯癫癫，但却是个好人……反正他也更喜欢有点儿疯的人；那些实在让他觉得无趣。不过，他悄悄更正道，疯得并不厉害。帕特把他脱下来的衣服都赶进了衣柜，连一根手指都没碰过它们。或许谁都能从这个修行中获益，并不一定要神志清楚，反正谁也不知道所谓的神志究竟是什么玩意儿。帕特大概就是个明证；迈克那孩子似乎什么人都能教。 他感觉到她准备离开了，于是请她代自己给教女们一个晚安吻——这事儿他忘了。“我刚才太累了，帕特。” She nodded. “我也得去弄词典了。”她俯身吻了他，热情但又很迅速，“我会把