Chapter 12 Chapter nine

It was a house without a basement, built by Italian immigrants who were ill-adapted to the Bronx winters because they didn't have enough money for the luxury of a basement. The bedrooms and kitchen of the Bliss sisters make up the front half of the house.The other half was divided into a large vestibule with always drawn shutters, and a small converted bathroom, originally a gloomy bedroom, that the Bliss sisters converted. The staircase leading up from the kitchen to the attic takes up part of the small vestibule, a sort of drawing room that has never been used.The plinth of the stairs leading to the kitchen is detachable.

After Sister Ji Le returned to the kitchen, she said to the seemingly empty space, "You can come out now, he has already left." The bottom of the stairs is slowly pushed into the kitchen, and then the entrance to the cellar below the house looms in front of you. Pink Boy's head popped out first, and the white messy hair was covered with spider webs.The scarred face was covered with patches of color ranging from black and blue to biliary yellow, an indescribably stupid image.His shoulders were too broad to get through the opening, so he had to stretch out one arm first, then wriggled his way out.It looks like some unknown monster is emerging from hibernation.

Then came St. Peter's shotgun, which looked as if it had dragged St. Peter out.Pinky pushed the stairs back and stood next to Saint Peter as if he were his spiritual comfort. Neither of them dared to look at Sister Ji Le's contemptuous eyes. She couldn't help but sneered: "For people with a clear conscience, the behavior of you two innocent people is really weird." "We don't need to ask for trouble," said Saint Peter embarrassedly. Sister Bliss looks at her vintage pocket watch. "Nine forty-five. How about the three of us go to the pier to see Gus and Jeanne off?"

Even if she detonated a bomb full of mechanism ghosts, I'm afraid she wouldn't get any weirder reactions.St. Peter had a sudden heart attack.He rolled his eyes, his three-inch tongue popped out of his ugly mouth, and then staggered towards his berth, clutching his chest with his left hand, and carefully grasping the shotgun with his right. At the same time, Pink Boy also had a seizure.He fell to the ground, his whole body twitching, twisting, and wriggling. He was on the ground with muscle spasms, violent tremors, and foaming at the mouth. The Bliss sisters quickly retreated from the dangerous range of Pink Boy's flailing hands and feet, and retreated behind the stove.

Pink Boy's eyes were dull, his back was stiff, his legs twitched intermittently, and his arms flailed wildly like a windmill out of control. Sister Bliss looked at him in admiration. "If I had known that you would perform jiggles, I would have used you to run a side business outside of faith therapy," she said. Seeing Pink Boy stealing the spotlight, Saint Uncle sat up.His eyes were wide open, and his jaw trembled timidly. "It's really unexpected." He muttered to himself. Sister Bliss watched him. "How is your heart disease?" He avoids her gaze.

"It's just heart palpitations," he said shyly, "it's gone." He thought to himself, now is a good time to get out, so let Pink Boy continue to play the leading role. "I'm going to start the car," he said. "We might have to take him to the doctor." "Go," said Sister Bliss, "I'll take care of him." St. Peter hurried away from the table, still carrying his loaded shotgun.He lifted the hood and removed the front end of the distributor before starting the car. In addition to the sound of Pink Boy grinding her teeth, the Bliss sisters could still hear the car starting, and immediately knew that Saint Uncle had tampered with the car.

She waited patiently. Pink Boy's convulsions eased, and his body gradually became stiff.Sister Bliss walked up to him and looked straight into his dull eyes.His dilated pupils looked like fiery red metal balls. St. Peter entered the house and said the car would not start. "You stay here and take care of Pink Boy, I'm going to take a taxi to the pier." Sister Ji Le made a decision. "I'll put some ice cubes on his head," St. Peter said, shaking toward the refrigerator. Sister Bliss did not respond.She picked up her black bead bag and black and white patterned parasol and walked out the back door.

She didn't have a phone.She pays the police protection fee to protect herself from other dangers, and since she is in the pay-and-deliver business, she has to walk to the nearest taxi stand. She opened the parasol outside and walked around the house on the path among the weeds before stepping out onto the hot, dusty pavement. Saint Peter crouched like an ancient Iroquois (Indians living in the Great Lakes region of North America), with the loaded shotgun still in his right hand, he moved furtively from one corner of the house to another, monitoring her whereabouts .She went straight along the street and walked in the direction of Baiyuan Road without looking back.

Seeing that she hadn't turned back, he finally went back to the kitchen with relief and said to the stiff epileptic on the floor, "She's gone." Pink Boy jumped up immediately. "I have to get out of here," he whimpered. "Please, what's bothering you?" "The way I am now. The police will pull me over as soon as they see me, because I am already wanted." "Take off your clothes," said St. Peter. "I'll take care of it." He seemed desperate to be alone. Sister Bliss walked until she thought she was out of sight of the house, then turned onto the next street that turned on the same side of this street, and the closest home to her house was the next block.There lived alone an old Italian couple, good friends of the Blissful Sisters.The male owner runs a food shop and is not at home during the day.

When the Bliss Sisters came to visit, the hostess was in the kitchen filtering and bottling the wine. Sister Bliss asked the hostess to allow her to sit in the attic.She often does.There was a side window in the attic with a clear view of her own home.Therefore, whenever she felt the need to observe Saint Peter, she would sit there for an hour or two.The old couple even set up a rocking chair for her. The Bliss sisters climbed the ladder to reach the attic.After opening the blinds, she sat down in her rocking chair. It was hot enough to roast a goose in the attic, but the Bliss sisters didn't bother.She loves the heat and never breaks a sweat.She swayed slightly in her chair, and swayed back and forth to monitor her family's house at the end of the block.

An hour later, St. Bo said to Pinky, "You're almost dry, go get some clothes and get out." Pinky didn't put a change of clothes here, and he was more than twice the size of St. Peter.The black pants and T-shirt he took off were bloodstained and dirty. "Where am I going to find clothes to wear?" he asked. "Look in the memorial box," said St. Peter. The memorial box is placed under the small skylight on the roof of the attic. "Get the chisel, it's locked," said St. Peter again, just as Pinkie was going up the stairs. There weren't any chisels in the kitchen, and St. Peter didn't want to go to the garage to get them.But Pink Boy couldn't go there naked, so he had to take a handful of stove pokers as a supplement. It was an old-fashioned flat trunk with a domed lid, framed by wooden hoops.The sun was slanting down on the dusty roof of the box, and when Pinkie started to yank the old rusty lock, the dust flew like confetti.After that night's performance, the windows were all closed to keep out the heat, and now the sweltering air still smells of the sweat of the two jugglers.Pinkie started to sweat.Sweat splashed on the dust like drops of ink. "Hey, this thing is about to fall off," he called to St. Peter in a panic. "That's just an excess," St. Peter reassured him. "The main part of the paint will not come off." Pinkie yanked the lock with the poker so hard that it shattered into pieces.He lifted the lid and looked inside the box. This commemorative box stores all kinds of clothing left behind by the Bliss sisters after their lovers left.Pinkie rummaged around trying to find it, picking up pants, a shirt, and cotton panties with back pocket flaps.Every piece is too small.Apparently none of the lovers of the Blissful Sisters had such a big guy.Still, Pinkie managed to find a pair of Palm Beach suspenders, and it looks like the original owner must have been tall.He first squeezed into a pair of knee-length sanitary pants, and then put on suspenders, which fit him like women's breeches.He continued his search until he found a red silk bodysuit worn by fashionable girls in the early 1930s.It's stretchy enough for him to wear it.As for shoes, none seemed fit, so he closed the case, went downstairs to the kitchen, and put on his old blue espadrilles. "Why don't you wear a hat?" said St. Peter. Pink Boy went back upstairs again, rummaging through boxes and cabinets to find a hat.The only thing that fit was a white straw hat with a broad, drooping brim and a peaked brim resembling those worn by Mexican slave laborers.There is also a black chinstrap to fasten. "Look for sunglasses again," St. Peter called. There is a shoebox full of sunnies, but the only thing that suits Pinky is a pair of glasses with pure blue lenses and white celluloid frames.He puts on his glasses. Pink Boy stood in front of St. Uncle, and St. Uncle examined his achievements. "Even your mother wouldn't recognize it," he said proudly, but when Pinkie was about to move, he sounded a warning. "Keep out of the sun, or that thing will turn purple." Sister Bliss widened her eyes.She stopped shaking and leaned forward. From the front yard of her house came a man whom the Bliss sisters knew well about blacks, but whose skin was darker than she had ever seen before.The man was so dark that even the light-colored parts of the bruise shone in the sun like wet coals of pitch.Not only was he dark as hell, but he was also the most colorfully dressed man she had ever seen.She hadn't seen anyone so gaudy dressed since the bums had gone out of fashion. He walked briskly, but there was just something wrong with him, especially around his legs, which reminded her of a short-lived lover, Blackberry Slim, but that one had thicker legs than Slim.And the red silk tights on the suspenders, exactly the same one that Boring Kane used to wear... but the big white hat with a wide brim, and the blue sunglasses with white frames... She'd never seen anyone wear a hat like that, except the Argo dancers. "My God!" She yelled in shock, and recognized the man instantly. "That's Pink Boy, he's wearing the clothes in my souvenir box!" Her thoughts flashed like lightning...a pink boy in disguise.She had expected him to act, but she hadn't expected such luck in the first place.Of course he was going to the hideout. She jumped up at once, kicking over the rocking chair hastily.The old Italian woman in the kitchen tried to stop her for a bottle of wine, but she rushed past the old woman and around the house.She stood behind the green checkered gate, watching Pinky stride past.He didn't look in her direction. She folded the parasol, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, and followed smoothly. He walked directly to the subway station on White Plains Road and climbed the stairs to the waiting platform.The Blissful Sisters arrived at the turnstiles, panting.She pretended not to recognize Pink Boy, and went straight to the other end of the platform. He looked around, startled when he saw her.He has nowhere to hide, only to be cheeky and refuse to recognize each other.Everyone stared at him.She glanced at him, and he looked back at her from behind his blue sunglasses.She looked at him curiously, then looked away as if she didn't recognize him, and watched the train pull into the station. There are two carriages between them.They both stood so that when the train stopped, they could look around the door to see if the other had disembarked.But neither of them saw the other peeping. They sat like this until Times Square Station.Pinkie jumped off the train just as the doors were about to close.Before Sister Bliss could see him, the door was closed.As the car she was in passed him, she saw him stop and turn and look straight at her. When she got off at Thirty-fourth Street and took a taxi to Times Square, he was long gone.Only then did she suddenly realize: he was outwitting her.Lest she might recognize him, he got out of his car in Times Square, throwing off her tail.He thought she would be dumped by doing so.But the only place he could hide his stuff was the apartment on Riverside Drive. She flagged down a taxi and told the driver to drive faster. The driver leaned forward slightly and peered at her in the rearview mirror.My God, the boss is not young, and she is still so annoying, he thought to himself, but she is already at this age, if she can't change now, she probably has no hope in the future. Sister Bliss told him to stop in front of Riverside Church.Then get off and pay.He stayed for a while, pretending to be writing a note, but actually looking at her.He was curious, and she hurried him here as if it were a matter of life and death, only to get to church. It's just old ladies who think God doesn't have to do anything but wait for them, he thought bitterly, and shifted away. After waiting until he was out of sight, Sister Bliss crossed the street and entered the park. She chose a bench in a hidden place where she could observe the movement of the entrance and exit of the apartment. Unless Pinky looked for it deliberately, she would not find her. As she took her seat, the whistle began to sound.She took out her pocket watch to see if it was telling the time correctly.The surface pointed to the mark exactly at twelve o'clock noon.