Chapter 20 Chapter 19

Larry had been in Times Square for a long time, and somehow he felt the square should look different.Things seemed smaller there, but it was better, and he wasn't intimidated by the overgrown, smelly, sometimes dangerous stuff of the place that he had been as a child.At that time, he often rushed here alone or with Buddy Mark, paying 99 cents to watch a double-screen movie, or to look at the shiny display in the store window in the store, vaulted corridor and joint lobby. However, the square as a whole still looks the same, which is not how it should be, because some things have really changed.When you go up from the subway, the newsstand that used to be on the corner of the exit is gone.Half a block away, there used to be a cheap vaulted corridor store, festooned with glittering lights and bells, and menacing-looking young men dangling cigarettes from the corners of their mouths while they Gottlieb's Island or Cosmos was playing, and in the same place, there was now a Julius Orange store, and in front of it stood a group of young Negroes, their feet dancing softly, as if some The place was constantly playing jazz, a kind of jazz that only black ears could hear.There were also more correspondence offices and X-rated movies.

However, there were so many similarities that it made him sad.The only real difference in approach makes things seem worse: he feels like a tourist here now.Still, even true New Yorkers can feel like tourists, short on the square, looking up at the electronic news summaries that line the perimeter of the square.He couldn't tell what the square looked like in his memory as part of New York.He had no particularly strong desire to recall it. His mother didn't go to work that morning.She had been suffering from a cold for the past two days, and she got up early this morning because of a fever.He heard her get up from the bed and prepare breakfast in the kitchen, making a lot of noise.She sneezed and murmured "Damn." The TV came on, and it was the "Today" news: an attempted coup in India, a power station bombed in Vioning, the Supreme Court's imminent verdict against the Historic decisions related to homosexuality.

At this moment, Larry came out of the house, buttoned his shirt, and went into the kitchen. The news was over, and Gene Sharit was interviewing a bald man.The bald man displays a host of hand-blown critters.Glassblowing has been a hobby of his for 40 years, he said, and he has written a book that will be published by Random Press.Then, he sneezed. "I'm sorry," said Gene Sharit, secretly amused. "Would you like fried eggs or scrambled eggs?" Alice Underwood asked.Alice believes that breakfast is not without eggs. He sat and watched her beat the eggs into a black skillet and whisk them with the whisk she had been using since he was in first grade at Elementary 162 .

She pulled a hand towel from the pocket of the bathrobe she was wearing, covered her mouth with a cough, sneezed, and before putting the hand towel back she babbled "Hate!" "Have you asked for leave, Mom?" "I'm sick. This cold is killing me. I hate being sick on a Friday when there's so much to do and I have to rest. I'm running a fever and my tonsils are swollen." "Did you call the doctor?" She said: "When I was a pretty girl, the doctors were on the rounds. Now if I get sick, I have to go to the emergency department of the hospital. I'm going to stay home, take some aspirin, and by this time tomorrow, I'll have a fever. .”

He stayed all morning, trying to help out.He brought the TV in and put it next to her bed, brought her juice and a bottle of Nyquil to cool off the heat, and went to the market to buy her some paperbacks. After this, there was nothing more for them to do than worry about each other.She was amazed at the poor TV reception in the bedroom, and he had to throw out a scathing remark about the result, poor reception was better than no reception at all.At last he said he was ready to go out and wander around some parts of the city. "That's a good idea," she said with obvious relief. "I'm going to sleep a little. You're a good boy, Larry."

So he descended the narrow stairs (the lift was still broken) and out into the street, feeling a guilty relief.The day was his, and he still had some cash in his pocket. But now, in Times Square, he didn't feel happy.He wandered along the road, his wallet still bulging since it was in his front pocket.He stopped in front of a discount video store, stopped by his own voice coming from the tilt-hung speakers.That's the verse of the bridge. "I didn't come to beg you to stay all night, And don't even want to know if you've seen the light. I'm not here to cause trouble, to pick fights,

I just want you to tell me if you think you can, Baby, are you satisfied with your man? he is a man of integrity Baby, are you satisfied with your man? " That's me, he thought, looking absently at the record inside.But today this sound made him very depressed, and even felt homesick.He didn't want to be here under the gray washtub sky.Smelling the exhaust fumes of New York, he kept tucking one hand in his pocket for the wallet to make sure it was still there.New York, your name is Paranoid. He went to the currency exchange room, exchanged 10 dollars for quarters, crossed the street, there was a public phone booth next to the beef shop and the beverage shop, and he called the Jane's poker shop directly from memory, Wayne S. Tukey hangs there sometimes.

Larry stuffed the quarters into the phone slot until his hands hurt.The phone started ringing 3,000 miles away. A woman's voice said, "This is Jane's Poker, and we're open for business." "Do you guys run anything?" he asked, his voice low and provocative. "Listen, you self-righteous fellow, this isn't... hey, you're Larry?" "Yes, it's me. Hello, Aaron." "Where are you? Nobody sees you, Larry." "Well, I'm on the East Coast," he said cautiously, "and I've been told that moths are crawling on me and that I should get out of the pond and pick them all up."

"Is that the big party?" "yes." "I've heard about it, it's costing a lot," she said. "Is Wayne there? Aaron." "You mean Wayne Stucky?" "Of course not John Wayne, he's dead." "So you don't know?" "What do I know? I'm on the other side. Hey, he's fine now, isn't he?" "He's in the hospital right now with that flu bug. They call it 'Captain Trips' here. I don't mean it's a joke. They say a lot of people have died from it. People are talking about turning heads and staying home. We've got six tables empty and you know Jane's never has an empty table."

"How is he?" "Who knows? The wards are full and nobody gets a visit. That's incredible, Larry. And there's a lot of soldiers around." "Is it a vacation?" "Military members on leave don't carry guns or ride in transport trucks. A lot of people are really freaking out. You're lucky you left." "It wasn't reported in the news." "There's word in the papers here that there's already a flu booster, that's all. Some say, though, that the Army has been so careless with those little plague jars. Isn't that creepy?"

"It's just a horrible rumor." "Is there no such statement in your place?" "No," he said.Then he remembered his mother's cold.Aren't many people sneezing and coughing in the subway?He remembered it sounded like it was in a tuberculosis ward.However, in any city there are many people with sneezing and runny noses.He believes that cold germs love to get together.They like to share wealth. "Jane herself wasn't there," said Allen. "She said she had a fever, and her tonsils were swollen. I thought the old hag wasn't sick." The salesperson interjected, "It's 3 minutes, please signal when you're done." Larry said, "Hey, Aaron, I'll be back in a week or two. We'll be together soon." "You've been nice to me. I always want to go out with famous audio-visual stars." "Aron, you didn't happen to hear of a guy named Sailor Dewey, did you?" "Oh!" looked surprised. "Gee! Larry!" "what's up?" "It's a good thing you didn't hang up! I did meet Wayne, maybe two days before he was in the hospital. Whoops! I totally forgot about that!" "Hey, what's going on?" "There was an envelope. He said it was for you, but he told me to keep it in the cash drawer for a week or so, or give it to you when I saw you. He said something that he was lucky that Sailor Dewey didn't replace. You take it away or something." "What's in there?" He switched the microphone from one hand to the other. "Wait a minute, I'll take a look." The phone was silent for a while, and then there was the sound of an envelope being ripped open."It's a passbook," said Allen. "First Commercial Bank of California. The deposit has ……Wow! More than 130,000 US dollars.Watch me smash your brains out if you ask me to go out and pay separately. " He grinned and said, "You don't have to. Thank you, Alan, and please keep it safe for me then." "No, I'm going to throw it like a rainstorm. You fool." "Thank you for your kindness." She sighed. "Larry, you've got too much money. I'm going to put both of our names on it and put it in an envelope. Then when you come in, you can't get rid of me." "I won't, sweetheart." They hung up and then the clerk came and demanded another $3 for Mama Bell.Larry willingly stuffed the money into the coin slot, still grinning. He looked at the loose change that was still scattered on the shelf in the phone booth, picked out a quarter and dropped it in the slot.After a while, his mother's phone rang.The first impulse is to share the good news, the second is to surprise someone with the news.He thought, no, he believed in the former impulse entirely.He wanted to comfort them both with the news that he was able to pay again. The smile on his mouth receded little by little.The phone just kept ringing.Maybe she decided to go to work after all.He thought of the flushed, feverish face, and her constant coughing and sneezing into the handkerchief and the impatient "Damn it!"He didn't think she would leave.In fact, he didn't think she was strong enough to get up. He hung up the phone, failing to remove the quarter from the slot when he put the phone back.He came out, the change clinking in his hand.He saw a taxi and hurriedly said hello. When the car backed up and entered the traffic again, it started to rain. The door is locked.After two or three knocks he was sure the house was empty.He had to go in and find out, and he didn't have the key.He turned to go downstairs to Mr. Freeman's flat when he heard a small moan behind the door. There were three different locks on his mother's door, and though she was often bothered by those Puerto Ricans, she never cared to use them all.Larry banged his shoulder against the door, which rattled loudly.He hit it again and the lock couldn't hold up.The door swung back and slammed against the wall. "Mother?" Another groan was heard. It was very dark in the unit, the sky suddenly became dark, and there was rumbling thunder, and the rain was getting heavier and heavier.The living room window was half open, and the white curtains on the table were puffed up by the wind, then deflated and fluttered in the air through the opening.There was a pool of water glistening on the floor, where the rain had come in. "Mom, where are you?" A louder groan came.When he came to the kitchen, there was another thunder.He nearly tripped over her.She was lying on the floor, half inside and half outside the bedroom. "Mom! Where is it, Mom!" She tried her best to turn around towards his voice, but only her head could turn, and finally her left side turned around.Her breathing was rumbling and phlegm was stuck.But the worst scene, the one he never forgot, was the way she rolled her eyes up at him, like a pig's eye in a slaughterhouse.Her face was burning brightly. "Larry?" "Mom, I'll take you back to bed." He bent over, trying to control the trembling knees on which he was going to get up and support her with his arms.Her baggy veil was open to reveal faded pajamas and fish-belly white legs dotted with bulging varicose veins.She was burning hot, which made him fear.No one can burn like this and live.Her mind must have been confused. As if to prove the point, she whined, "Larry, go get your father back. He's in the bar." "Be quiet," he said, uneasy. "Calm down and sleep, Mom." "He's in the bar, with that photographer!" she screamed, sinking into the perceptible darkness of the afternoon, while the thunder outside raged viciously.Larry's body felt as though it were covered in a slow-flowing mucus.A cold draft passed through the house, blowing from the half-opened living room window.Alice began to tremble, goose bumps developed on her arms, her teeth chattered.In the semi-darkness of the bedroom, her face seemed to be a full moon.Larry pulled the quilt down over her legs, and pulled the blanket up over her chin.She was still shivering helplessly, making the top blanket tremble and shake.Her face was dry, no sweat. "Go and tell him, I said, to bring him back from there!" she cried, and then all was silent except for the heavy breathing of the bronchi. He went into the living room, walked to the phone, then went around it.He closed the window with a loud bang, and returned to the phone. Books are stacked on a shelf under a table.He searched for the phone number of Charity Hospital and dialed it. At the same time, there was loud thunder outside.A flash of lightning turned the window he had just closed into a blue-and-white X-ray.In the bedroom, his mother's breathless screams creeped him out. The phone rang once, with a buzz from inside, and then a beep.A mechanical, loud voice said, "This is the Charity General Hospital recording line. All lines are busy right now. If you don't hang up, your call will be answered as soon as possible. Thank you. This is the Charity General Hospital recording line. At When you called..." "Let's put these mop heads downstairs!" his mother yelled.Thunder rumbled. "Those Puerto Ricans don't understand anything!" "...your call will be answered as soon as possible..." He thumbed down the phone and stood there, sweating.What the hell kind of hospital is this?Mother is dying, but there is a fucking answering phone.What are you doing there? Larry decided to go downstairs to see if Mr. Freeman could help watch her while he went to the hospital.Or should he call an ambulance?God; how is it that no one knows about this when people need to know about it?Why not teach it in school? In the bedroom, his mother was gasping for breath. "I'll be right back," he murmured, walking towards the door. He was a little frightened, terrified for her, but there was another voice below that said: These things are always going to happen to me.But again: why did it happen after I got the good news?The meanest of all: how badly does this ruin my plans?How many things around will need to change? You hate that sound and wish it would die a quick, nasty death, but it just keeps echoing. He ran downstairs to Mr. Freeman's room.Thunder rumbled through the black clouds.He had barely reached the first landing when the door was blown open and the rain was pouring down on his face.