When Erin woke up, it was already dawn, and June was standing by the bed, holding a tray in her hand. Inside the tray is a large cup of coffee with cream and sugar, as well as slices of homemade whole wheat bread.
"Oh my gosh, I was going to do that."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'll bring you coffee to your bedside. I woke up early. I just wanted to wait a little longer. I want to wait for the morning to get up a little bit more. ”
Erin didn't tell Junen that she hadn't actually slept all night, or had not been able to sleep for almost half of the night, but that was haunted by the stability of the mattress, the smoothness and comfort of the sheets, and of course, the uninvited, irrelevant self lying on top of the mattress and sheets.
"How does your life go on without a watch?" June said, putting the tray down, "It's a good thing you didn't get up and try to make me coffee." That coffee machine at home is hard to serve, you can't operate it. ”
Erin did forget about that. They grind the coffee themselves. They buy two or three kinds of coffee beans from a foreign trade store in the city and combine them to create their favorite coffee flavors.
"But I had to wake up early," said June, "and there was an endless amount of chores waiting for me." ”
"I can help."
"You can help now, enjoy this cup of coffee, and then don't do anything, just wait here, I'll go see the little things screaming and screaming first."
She meant the children, which she used to call all the time. This is still the case. The tone is still as bright and bright as ever, as always, blurting out without thinking. She was already fully dressed, orange trousers, and a lace-embroidered Mexican-style shirt made of unbleached primary fabric. She looked the same as before, her light brown hair tucked back, tied tightly with a rubber band, and long, slender bangs loosely hanging down her forehead. His expression is still the same as before, swaying with ardent eagerness, domineering energy, and busyness. They blend in with her face, which is both touching and infuriating. Being a wife and fulfilling her duties is her mission and task. Her cheeks and neck were rosy and rough. If anything, the death of her son had made her skin a deeper, more pronounced redness.
Erin realized how naïve she had been expecting Junen to change. She had expected that June's body would become loose and her voice might become uncertain or silent as she wowed over her grief. But when they hugged each other at the airport last night, she felt that her sister's body was still tight and strong, as if she had an independent will, and was not affected by the outside world. She almost couldn't wait and stubbornly tried to comfort June, but as soon as she spoke, June's voice broke through her comfort, and she asked, almost in a victorious tone:
"With such a strong wind, do you feel terrible on the plane?"
June sent the younger children to school. Junen and Jurter had seven children, including Douglas. The first five are all boys. Then they adopted two girls of Indian or semi-Indian descent. The youngest one is still in kindergarten. Douglas was seventeen years old.
Erin could hear June talking on the phone.
"I don't want them to suppress their feelings, but I also don't want them to be falsely aroused. You know what I mean? Right. That's the normal environment for them. I think it's better for them not to be there. But I also wish they would have an opportunity to express their grief. If they want to express their grief. Yes, it does. Yes. Thank you. Thank you so much. ”
She then calls to order a coffee machine.
"That's when I knew I should buy a machine that makes 50 cups of coffee at a time instead of 30. In the end, it was never done. Oh, no need. No, it's already arranged. No, I'd rather be like that. Thank you very, very much. ”
She then made several phone calls and asked if there was a car for the funeral, now known as a memorial service. She then called more people and asked if they would mind offering rides to others who didn't have a car. Eventually, she went back and called the first group of people and told them when and where they could take someone else's ride. By this time, Erin was up, dressed, and in and out of the bathroom several times. She heard rock music coming from the recreation room downstairs, and the voice was much lower than usual, perhaps a sign of humility. The older kids must have been nestled there. She wondered where Yurt had gone. She felt that not all of the arrangements that June had made were necessary, or at least some of them should not have been made by Jun himself. Of course, people will be able to find their own means of transportation to attend the funeral. She found that she even hated the tone of June's voice on the phone. Good morning and hello! Hello, I'm June! Such a bright and lively tone, such a serious attitude, and in such a light and active rhetoric, is it not revealed that there is some kind of provocation, some kind of obvious persistence and persistence in wanting to control the overall situation? Can it be said that June actually longs to be admired and admired in his heart? Well, why not? If that helps. Hopefully something helps.
But either way, Erin hated the tone in which she spoke, and she felt very frustrated to hear it.
She washes coffee cups and plates in the kitchen. These were the only two pieces of cutlery she saw waiting to be washed. It was 9:15 a.m., and the kitchen in front of me, like the kitchens in the advertisement, was as bright as new and shiny. All the dishes are in the dishwasher, that's where they belong. Erin had long forgotten about the dishwasher. She herself lived in an old house, in another small town, a rented house. She lives there alone, divorced from her husband, and her only daughter is traveling in Europe. She didn't know how to operate a dishwasher.
She never eats bread crusts, but at the moment she has to eat, and she has a hard time discerning which of the so many sorting bins in the kitchen can hold the crusts. If she were to straighten things out like that, it would take at least a whole day. Last night she learned that garbage sorting is a new and complex system that is driven by recycling. "I'm going to take some time out to think about it." As soon as Erin said this, Juan immediately asked her, "But aren't you doing it now?" ”
Compared to June, her life is indeed irresponsible. She had to see this clearly, and she had to admit it. Out of laziness, she threw the garbage in one place, and only the surface of her cupboard was neat, and the inside was a mess that was unsightly. She and Junen had a head-on confrontation over brown paper bags. Erin usually collects paper bags and stuffs them into a drawer for storage. June folds them neatly, bulldozes them out and then fits them tightly to each stack so that they maximize storage space when placed in drawers, and the paper bags are easy to access. The sisters burst out laughing.
"I feel like it's simpler, it's always easier to access." June's tone accentuated when he said "easier," "Actually, it saves you time in the end." ”
"You have obsessive-compulsive disorder." Erin replied that when she was in a desperate situation, she would always treat others the way she would treat them, and she would use June's words to fight back against her, showing disdain and domineering, "Order is an abnormal behavior in the anal period. I'm amazed that you're like that. ”
But she did try. In June's kitchen, she tries to keep order in mind, always full of logical and uncanny categorization. She always makes mistakes. When Yurt notices a mistake she's made, and notices that something is out of place, he taps her arm lightly, his expression full of apologies, as if he was complicit in her, and he doesn't keep silent, just secretly moves the misplaced object to where it should have been, with a greatly exaggerated action. From this pantomime, from the kindness and concern shown by Yurt for her mistake, Erin understands that this is far from a simple joke. She saw how deep and real June's anger over these mistakes would be. In the house where June and Jurter live, Erin feels the load of the material world all the time, the strict demands they place on humans, and the differences that she has always ignored. The house has its own set of rules about buying and using, moral laws about consumerism. Erin has never had money, so she always spends her money extravagantly, without thinking, and does whatever she wants. With such great wealth, June and Jurter always consciously have a high sense of responsibility when buying and using things, and they are not only responsible for themselves, that is, they must have the best, the most efficient, durable, honest and good things, but also socially responsible. In their eyes, anyone who doesn't read the Consumer Reports is likely to be in the same category as someone who doesn't want to vote.
In the world of objects, the most difficult thing for them to choose is those things that have no practical use, but which must be used in every house, that is, pictures, decorations, etc. They eventually solved the puzzle by opting for Eskimo prints and carvings, Indian wall hangings, ashtrays and bowls, and a number of gray, porous clay pots made by a former criminal who is now sponsored by a monotheistic church as a potter. All of these objects are at the touch of moral values, and at the same time decorative functions are acceptable. A pair of quacladel masks, heavy and eerie, in the style of intimidation and ferocity, hung on the walls of the fireplace, and received a great deal of admiration from the visitors. Erin couldn't help but ask, what is the point of such a thing appearing in the living room? Erin found herself being annoyably picky about certain things during this time, such as clothing and decorations. She wants to stay away from deception, not to encroach on serious things for trivial and subtle uses, and not to mock things by making them fashionable. These hopes of hers were destined to lead to a curse. She's offending and ramming others. Jurt and June did not mean to mock things, but they genuinely admired Indian art, saying, "Look how fierce it is! Amazing, isn't it? In Erin's own living room, there are several blurred watercolors of flowers that she had collected by chance while buying second-hand furniture. In itself, who can say that this sense of decay, this detachment from style, is not as bad as the pretentiousness of the masks of the Quachuters and the pockmarked statues of fertility?
Yurt came out of the garage, dressed in his overalls. His hair grew long and went all the way to near his earlobes. "Do you want to see my Japanese garden?" He asked Erin, "I'm going to give these shrubs a little care." When they grow, your eyes won't want to leave. ”
His voice was pleasant, but around him, Erin smelled some kind of unpleasant smell from his breath, not without sadness, suggesting that he hadn't slept peacefully last night, and that even his early gargle hadn't dissipated it.
"Of course."
She followed him through the garage and outside. It was a cloudy and warm February day. "Maybe it will clear up soon." Jurt said. He wrenched the damp branches aside for her to pass through, reminding her which slope on the lawn was slippery and easy to fall on. As always, he is still the kind and anxious man. Wealth makes him extraordinarily courteous, even a little out of line, and it also makes him taciturn, more willing to settle things down, quite a certain sense of mystery. June first met him in college (both June and Erin went to the local university on scholarships), when he seemed lonely and had no friends. June's thoughtfulness and warmth for him were satisfying and comforting, and that enthusiasm was consistent with the African students, drug addicts, prison inmates, and Native American children. She takes him to parties, where he plays the role of a waitress, an assistant to the hostess or hostess, some kind of comforter from the perspective of a neighbor or a policeman, helping people who vomit drunken in the bathroom, and listening to girls who are treated badly by their boyfriends. June said she was guiding him to real life. She regretted that he had been denied that right, that his life was thus mutilated, and that his fame and wealth had tarnished him. In her eyes, it was like a deep purple-red freckle on her face and a deformed foot. No one thought she intended to marry him. She hadn't thought of it that way herself. Erin believed that it had been quite a long time before June began to consider the possibility of marrying him. She did bring him back to her own home, but it was only part of her overall plan to take him into real life.
Erin, June, and their mother were living upstairs in a house on Baker Street with a barbershop in front of it. The rooms were dimly lit, but not for nothing. The fresh, soap-frothy, masculine smell of the barbershop always wafts over and makes up for the lack of light in the room. At night, the rosy glow of the corner coffee shop always fills the living room. Their mothers had cataracts in both eyes. She always lies on the couch, and even when she lies down, she still pays attention to her demeanor and lists her needs one by one. She asked for many cups of water, medicines, and tea; She asked someone to remove the blanket and hide the edge of the blanket and tucked it away. She asked her hair to be combed and braided; She asks people to call the radio and denounce them for using too much slang, vulgar language, and no logic; She asked people to convey her grievances and protests to barbershops and grocery stores; She asked people to keep in constant contact with her old friends and keep them informed of her deteriorating health, and to ask them why they hadn't come to see her for a long time. Juan brought Jurte into the house and made him sit next to his mother and listen to her chatter. Erin had studied English literature to solve many of the problems her mother had caused her, and June, who had a background in psychology, finally found time to face this problem head-on. Junen achieved even more success. Irene was satisfied and relieved to find a large number of images of mad mothers in literature, but she was not able to put her findings into concrete action and solve any practical problems. June, on the other hand, was able to justifiably introduce her mother in front of her friends, without any apologies, and treat her as some kind of subject of study, giving enough information and then engaging in a lot of discussion with everyone. In doing so, she made people feel specially gracious. Jurte had to listen to June's mother babble a gloomy, disorganized, and unbridled story. She told him that her family was inextricably linked to former Canadian Prime Minister Arthur McGan. Juin told him that he could intuitively understand how the socio-economic environment of a certain way out gives a certain type of temperament a delusion and triggers its delusions. (She was learning this way of expressing language, and it was growing by leaps and bounds, and it would continue to play a role later in her life.) Erin couldn't help but be struck by June's unexpected advantage and her sudden objectivity.
"It was certainly easier for me because I was the second oldest in the family," June told her and everyone who was there, "and I had no guilt in my heart," she said, "and all the guilt was piling up on Erin." Under the unmistakable but harsh eyes of those majoring in psychology and sociology, the future of graduate student Erin is indeed bleak and bleak. She was burdened with a heavy sense of guilt and almost mentally twisted, but she didn't realize it. The literature classes she chose were meaningless and full of mistakes, and the lovers she chose were disgusting (the one who married her and later divorced), and she stumbled between them and her lovers; Like a bat that strays into daylight, she always stumbles. Amazingly, in just one year, Juan was reborn, throwing off the fat that was characteristic of her teenage years, no longer clumsily searching for sentences when expressing herself, and she was left behind along with her naivety, her dependence on others, her confusion about things, and her gratitude. Who would have predicted that she would have such a loud and clear voice, such a ruddy, thin face, and such a tight and swift body? Along with it, she is also very good at controlling her life. She fumbled to write poetry, followed Erin to read the books she read, and was influenced by Erin to hold a certain vague view of fashion, which was only a few years ago. Such a drastic change is simply impossible.
But in fact, she had foreseen all this. She is married to Hoy. The grumpy and eccentric journalist left their daughter behind to raise her when they divorced. Juan marries Jurt and sets sail to build their lives. If Irene's life was in any case gradually taking shape and taking on a slight face, but at the same time it was constantly battered by storms and tormented by all kinds of pastimes and pleasures, June's life was gradually built brick by brick, and under the guidance of careful planning, life passed in a clear, organized and full way. There are no exceptions to the path of deviation and boredom in her life. She will make the most of every opportunity.
Could this be another chance for her?
"Douglas helped me plant this one last week." Jurt said, pointing to a low, bristly shrub. When he mentioned his son's name, like June, it seemed casual, but in fact it was emphasized. But his tone was natural, with a kind of unnoticed elegance and hesitation, which made his emphasis less deliberate than Junen's, and not unpleasant. He went on to talk about his Japanese garden. At one point, he said, Japan issued a law that set fairly strict rules on the height of stepping stones in the garden. The stepping stones of the emperor's residence could be six inches high, and then reduced all the way down according to the rank, so that the common people's homes could only be one and a half inches high. He was releasing water.
"The Japanese garden attaches as much importance to the sound of the water as the whole garden. You see, here the water is going to fall from a great height. It looks like a miniature version of a waterfall, split in two by this rock. Everything is placed precisely and measured. This way you can have the best view. If you stare at it intently and don't care about anything else around you, wait a little while and you'll feel like it's really a waterfall, a real sight. ”
He talks about the pre-design arrangements needed to bring water into the garden, and the entire plumbing system laid underground. His knowledge of water diversion engineering is always meticulous, precise and always with a passion for determination. He knows even more about it than those who make a living laying these pipe systems. Perhaps the reason is that he doesn't need some kind of job for his life, and he doesn't need to support his family.
An opportunity, why not? An opportunity to showcase, boast and validate the values on which we live. Jurth and June's lives are guided by a variety of values, and they themselves are unabashedly informed about this. Why not? Erin thought so, while Yurt was still talking about plumbing in her ear, and after exhausting the subject, he turned to the discussion of garden shrubs. Perhaps she would have preferred to see a predestined death event that could happen in its entirety in front of everyone from beginning to end. Isn't that so? But this cannot happen without faith. Well, it simply can't happen. So, what if it happened to her daughter, to Margot? When she heard the sad news of Douglas's death, the emotions that instantly surged into her heart were mixed with relief and fear. It was as if Douglas was using himself to attract lightning, which seemed to give all the other children a safe place and warned them that deadly lightning was indeed there. Margot is likely to board a leaky ship, or a plane about to be hijacked, or a bus with faulty brakes at any moment, and most likely step into a building where terrorists have planted bombs, and the wandering Margot faces more danger to her life than Douglas, who lives at home. But that's exactly what happened.
Douglas died at the scene as a result of that car accident. The other three boys in the same car with him suffered only minor injuries.
Douglas was a small and stocky boy. While on the plane, Erin struggled to mentally trace what he looked like. He had pale yellow hair, long and loose, tied in a bundle with a hairband at the back of his neck, just like his mother. But he didn't have the ability that the long-haired people of the family had to have: a soul that sensed the existence of gods. The altered state of consciousness, the transcendent concept, none of this has anything to do with him. His whole body and mind were occupied by temporary, material, science-related interests, such as moon travel, sports (as spectators), and even the stock market. He was more like his father in his tireless attention to detail, perhaps passionate accumulation, collection, and elaboration. He is keen to explain. He had very few friends. He walked around his house, drank Diet Coke, was cold, silent, and arrogant. Jurter and Junen always have a full schedule of weekends and holidays, and all kinds of family activities are coming. They have a sailboat. They often go mountaineering, go cave exploration. They skydive, ski, and recently got their hands on a 10-speed bike. Erin speculated that Douglas must have been involved in all of these activities, and that he was unlikely to get out of the way; But with such a bulky physique, and a tendency to sit still, Erin was skeptical about how much enthusiasm and depth she could devote to these activities. With the financial support of his parents, he attended an experimental school. The concept of liberal development and self-directed learning that highlights creativity may not be in keeping with his nature. Erin was just skeptical. Douglas himself would not have revealed this to anyone. He would never be unrealistic enough to see himself as a rebel and skeptic of orthodoxy, and he never has ever been.
His father crouched down, put his hands on the bushes, and showed her the different forms of needles, told her about their complex growth needs, and analyzed the soil, water, and nutrient status. He did put a lot of energy into it. He's not a sexy man. Why is that? His huge buttocks with sadness? He looks sensitive and fragile from behind, and his serious demeanor? June once told Erin that she had gone to see movies with Jurter, along with other partners in the church's Couples Growth Group. They all want to discover something new. Erin had told others about her sister's story as an example and a joke, and now she realized that her joke was really to the point. Not because it was ill-intentioned, though she did feel guilty in retrospect, but because she didn't understand its true meaning at the time. Their seriousness is no joke. It is a discreet system of dissolution that finds a purpose for all beings. This system is not fixed to anything. Japanese gardens, pornographic films, accidental deaths. All of this is taken in, chewed, then transformed, gathered, and finally destroyed.
After the memorial service, the room was bustling with friends of June and Jurter, neighbors and the children's peers. The young men were huddled in the recreation room, opposite the stone fireplace that stretched from floor to ceiling. Many of them claimed to be friends with Douglas. Maybe they really are. They carried guitars, tapes, and candles with them. There was a girl who wrapped herself in a quilt. "Is this where they hold a memorial feast?" She asked, standing in the doorway, a soft light emanating from her body. Others wore fringed shawls and thin trailing skirts. They don't look as different from adults as they might think they are. Downstairs they lit candles; They only had candlelight and a fire in the fireplace. They burned incense. They played their instruments and sang. The smell of burning incense wafted everywhere, and there was a sharp feeling of marijuana.
"That's how they said goodbye to Douglas." A long-haired woman said. Her countenance, eroded by the years, was also wrapped in a shawl, leaning on the railing. "It's cute, it's really, it's very moving."
But would Douglas care about that, would he care about this form of memorial banquet? He won't reveal what he thinks. He would only stay at this banquet for a short time, and he still had this upbringing anyway; Then he might take the newspaper cat into his room and read the news in the market section of the newspaper.
"It smelled like they had lit a roll or two of marijuana cigarettes." As soon as the woman's voice fell, a man followed suit. The woman immediately closed her mouth, the expression on her face disappeared in an instant, and the whole person seemed completely closed, and Erin realized that this man was obviously her husband. Unlike his wife, he dressed conservatively and looked like the kind of man usual at funerals in the old days. Nowadays such couples are common: the husband is very responsible, respectful, vulnerable, with only a little long hair, carefully with sideburns, ties, clean cuffs, always with a little apology or absurdity in his expression, which makes people feel pitiful to look at, they often do not worry about money, and they have great power; The wife has no intentions, faces the sky, has no housewife charm, and her clothes drag down for a long time, but the exotic chase seems to be getting farther and farther away from the exotic. Occasionally, there are couples who do the opposite—the wife wears a pressed hair cap, a soft-coloured outfit, neatly buttoned buttons, and elaborate earrings; The husband wore a violet waistcoat embroidered with lace, and swayed amulets and crosses among the dense hairs on his chest.
The husband moved with Erin to the living room, which was filled with such couples. Long-sleeved clothes with shawls and long belts, chintz from India, jeans, expensive tailoring. Juan and Jurte had two types of friends: their neighbors, the wealthy people, and the friends they made in the church growth group. If two or three years ago it was not particularly difficult to distinguish them from each other, now it is impossible to distinguish them. It is likely that some of these people have both identities.
Yurt shuttled between them, bringing drinks to everyone. Junen was in the dining room, standing at a table full of coffee and sandwiches. Sausage rolls, asparagus rolls. She found time to make the food. She was dressed very well—a hand-woven long dress of orange and gold, with a matching shawl, thick and rough, Mexican or Spanish-style. The silver-blue eyelids were an accident, a flaw, a flaw in the perfect, revealing her busyness, confusion and uncertainty.
"Are you alright?" She asked her sister, "I can't show you around and introduce you to everyone, I can only let you do it yourself." ”
"I'm fine." Erin replied, "I'm drinking." ”
She wanted to ask if there was anything she needed help with, but she couldn't. She looked around for something she could help with, and eventually gave up. Whether it's the kitchen or the dining room, it's full of women, and they know exactly where everything is stored, but they can't find anything to help. Jun had already taken care of everything before he could. Everything was forethought and everything was already arranged.
The walls and high sloping ceiling of the living room were made of that warm timber stack; Cream-colored carpets and curtains are made of thick materials that feel soft to the touch. Erin sipping vodka. The curtains were not tightened, and through the gaps, Erin could see all the people. They walked up and down in their dazzling, bewildering costumes (she herself was not the one whose dark blue robes embroidered with silver thread betrayed the sharp judgments in her head), drinking wine and chatting with the sky in the background of the twilight sky, and night had fallen. In this damp and rainy darkness, she found that all of them were so bright and dazzling, so well sheltered. She sees the city as a blanket of light, and the river as a stripe in the dark.
"Do you know where you are now?" The husband asked her, "You're on the side of Mount Holyburn right now." That's the Gray Corner over there. He asked her to approach the window and point to her, and in the opposite direction of the Lions Gate Bridge, there was an area where the swimming light converged into a crown shape.
"What a spectacle." He said.
Erin agreed.
He was June's neighbor. He told Erin that they had built a house a little higher up and a little further away from the mountain. Like many rich people, he seemed to be filled with sincere and confused, almost heavy hopes, that what he would get was what he had always wanted.
"We used to have a house in North Vancouver," he said, "and for a long time, I wasn't sure if it was right to move from there." I'm not sure I'm going to fall in love with the scenery as much as I love the scenery over there. We used to look out of our windows and see the slope of the mountain, which is where we are now, with the Lions Gate Bridge and the whole city, and on a clear day we could see Vancouver Island. If you look to the west, the sunset is breathtaking. But now, I've loved it almost as much, and I'm never going to go back there. ”
"Have you always been fascinated by landscapes?" Erin asked.
"Always obsessed with landscapes?" He repeated, his head slightly lowered and his eyebrows patiently raised, waiting to be pleased by Erin's next high argument.
"Well, let's say you're in a bad mood, right, maybe you're in a very bad mood, and you get up and face this huge stretch of scenery in front of you. No matter what time it is, you can't get rid of this scenery. Don't you ever feel that you can't subdue it? ”
"Can't subdue it?"
"Guilt," said Irene, though not without remorse, said to herself, "if you're in such a bad state of mind, or if you're no longer so rich, but with such a wonderful view in front of you?" She took a big sip of vodka, wishing she hadn't started the conversation at all.
"But as soon as my eyes fall on such a beautiful view," the man replied triumphantly, "my bad mood will be swept away." A good view means more to me than a few glasses of wine, and more important than the kids downstairs. Also, I don't believe I'm going to be in a bad state of mind all the time. Life is too short to be happy. ”
At this point, he suddenly realized that they were not at a feast at the moment.
"Life is short. Many things happen without logic or for a reason. Isn't it? Your sister is amazing. So is Yurt. ”
Erin walked from the foyer to the guest room, a new, fierce glass in her hand. She passed by the door of the room where the children were playing. The guest's children were playing with June's two young daughters. They're playing a game called "Fish." She stopped and watched them. The two children of Indian descent gave her a sense of fear, and she felt as if she was being judged before them. Of course, this feeling only arises in June's presence; She could feel June listening, staring—trembling, and she had a keen insight into the frustrations June was encountering in educating them. Who would have believed that June and Erin would walk around the house and repeat the monotonous pidgin English that came from a Chinese couple in a Baker Street department store? Erin stared at the smooth tan faces of two children of Indian descent. What are they? - June's badge, June's memento? She couldn't look at them directly, only Zhu Enn.
She closed the door to her room and lay down in the dark. She tucked the pillow under her head, crossed her ankles, and placed the glass in her hand on her abdomen. The feeling that comes from stopping at June's house is back again. Douglas didn't bring anything to her, and death didn't change her. Her whole body was slowly paralyzed, and she couldn't hold herself. The days spent in this house, her life, her choices (if she could have any), and she herself, did not leave any good or at least consistent impression. She had to admit that she had lived her life haphazardly and disorganized, that she had wasted so much time, and that she had rarely done anything well. Not to mention the state of those days when she left here, which only deserved to be used as jokes and funny stories by her friends. What's even more tragic is that she is at a loss for anything about it, and there is nothing she can do about it.
On the plane, she thought about helping to make a snack with tea, as if in June's kitchen, her plan was possible.
The news of my father's death in the war, somehow, was told by phone at about ten or eleven o'clock in the middle of the night. Their mother had made a snack, made tea, and called Erin to enjoy it. She didn't wake June, who was too young at the time. They also ate jam. Erin greedily enjoyed these, but felt a little uneasy. Mother was a very dangerous person most of the time, she was always full of incredible pain, and she vented indescribable complaints, but that night she seemed to abandon her usual attitude, and became objective, calm, desireless, and most obviously, she became shy. She did not tell her daughter the news of her father's death. (She would wake her daughters up the next morning, bloodless and sorrowful, and kiss them coldly, telling them about it in a deliberately adjusted voice.) Daddy is dead. Years later, when Erin tried to talk to June about that sleepless night with tea and snacks, their mother showed a certain weakness and serenity; Almost, almost—what they most wanted their mother to do at the time—was an ordinary woman. Junen replied that she had already solved the problem.
"I used gestalt therapy for a few years. I did achieve my goal with Gestalt therapy. I analyzed the cause and eventually cured her. ”
I've never solved anything, Erin thought. Worse still, I never believed that anything needed to be solved.
People died. They were tortured, they died. After all those insane acts, their mother died of the most common form of pneumonia. Illness and accidents. They deserve to be respected, not interpreted. Language is shameful. They should crumble and shatter in shame.
The words from the Prophet that she read at the afternoon memorial service annoyed Erin. This liar is so brazen. Although it was not deliberately deceitful, and in fact it was distributed by modern people with the same devotion as its predecessors, this does not justify its continued deception. In a drunken reflection, Erin saw that all languages were the same. Now in complete conviction...... The language itself does not deceive, the deception lies in what you say through it. Silence is the only possibility.
Once upon a time, she and June had a lot more to think about than they do now. In the past, the two of them were more accommodating and less aggressive than they are now. Isn't that so? Yurt, neighbors, church colleagues. We used to be confident that the other could understand what we were trying to convey, but now we can't, even though we both have good intentions. Zhu En has joined many growth groups, studied yoga, and investigated beyond the meditation school; She also swam naked with others on an expensive island. And Erin has read a lot of books, and learned how to be angered by all kinds of superficiality. People would think that they should have fared better than their mothers. But there are still things that go wrong in life. The only thing we can count on, Irene, is to sink ourselves into reality every once in a while, to fall asleep for a few seconds, and to wake up with fear, fingers wrapped so tightly around the glass.
Nearly threw it off. In that case, the carpet and tablecloth will suffer. She drank the remaining wine from the glass, placed it on the bedside table, and fell asleep almost in the blink of an eye.
She woke up still drunk and didn't know how much time had passed. Very quiet in the house. She got up, thinking she had to change into her pajamas. She went to the bathroom first, dragged her dark blue robe, and went to the kitchen to look at the electronic clock. The kitchen lights are still on. It's only a quarter past eleven.
She drank a full glass of cold water, and experience had taught her that this would alleviate the headache of a hangover, and if she was lucky enough, might be able to dispel it completely. She walked through the side door to the garage and wanted to stand there and get some fresh air through the rain curtains. The garage door flipped up. She stumbled her way along the wall, weaving her way between coiled garden hoses and various tools pinned to the wall by nails. She heard someone coming, but wasn't worried. She drank too much. She didn't mind who it was or what the man would think when he saw her there.
It's Jurter. He was holding a watering can.
"June?" He said, "June? Oh, Irene. Of course it can't be June. She took two sleeping pills and fell asleep. ”
"What are you doing?" Erin asked, her voice drunk and defiant, but not really trying to provoke an argument.
"Flood water."
"It's raining! You're an idiot. ”
"It's stopped."
"It was raining earlier. I saw it while I was in the living room. ”
"I have to water these newly planted bushes. In the beginning, they need a lot of water. You can't just count on this little bit of rain. Even on the first day. ”
He put aside the watering can in his hand and walked around the side of the car to Erin.
"Erin, you'd better go inside. You're drunk. June found you before. She said you were as drunk as death. ”
He was also drunk. She knew, not by his voice or the gait he walked, that he stood in front of her, carrying a certain weight, density, and stubbornness.
"Erin, you're crying. You're a good guy. ”
Not for Douglas. She never shed a tear for Douglas.
"Erin, you know, your presence is a great comfort to June."
"I didn't do anything. I wish I could help a little. ”
"It's enough that you're here. Junen thinks so highly of you. ”
"Really?" Erin said, not that she didn't believe his words. Yurt was so polite, even when they were both drunk.
"Sometimes she can't express herself. She looks, you know, sometimes she's a little bit of a boss. She is well aware of this. But it's hard to change. ”
"Irene." Jurt took two steps forward, clinging to Erin.
Erin is a warm and friendly person, especially when drunk. Yurt's hug didn't frighten her. She seemed to have foreseen this, though it was difficult for her to tell where the premonition came from. Perhaps for a woman like Irene, alone, self-willed, and susceptible to people and things, sometimes shockingly vulnerable, such a hug is always expected. What's more, she acquiesced, she almost welcomed, how could she have withdrawn without adopting a rough mean attitude? Even if the hug wasn't in her plans, she could quickly adjust her expectations to make room for new possibilities, and all she needed was a change of thought: Why not? Just like she usually thinks in this situation.
Such a woman, a woman who thinks about things like this, is usually considered lazy and lazy, mentally blank, and has a chaotic mind that can only passively accept the influence of the outside world, which is very sad. Other women have expressed similar views, including men, who have implanted in their hearts all the symbols of gratitude and appreciation, encouraging them to continue in this way. Erin is well aware of this. She found this to be far from the truth. She thought she was easily teased and aroused. But that's not the case at the moment; She wasn't expecting great pleasure from her brother-in-law, Yurt, who was maneuvering her body to move to the back seat of the larger car, much more resolute and agile than Erin had imagined—but she wasn't just passively enduring it. She almost never endured it passively, and in this case, she always liked to look at their faces. She loved to see their serious expressions—delightful piety, undisguised solemnity, and all her heart was devoted to the present moment, which was their own.
During the process, Yurt's mouth kept calling Erin's name. He used to call her by her name. What does the name mean to Jurter? What exactly does Erin mean to him? Women always want to know these answers. Even when they are crushed in the car seat, their movements are restrained, they don't feel comfortable, and they have to curl up one leg to cling to the back of the seat to prevent cramps, but they are still looking for signs and clues, and they are hurriedly storing them in their minds for the sake of afterthought. They have to convince themselves that there is more meaning behind what is happening; And that's part of the trouble and trouble.
What Erin meant to Yurt, she would later tell herself that there was no answer to the question, and that it was a cloud of doubt. She exists as June's antithesis, doesn't she? For a man who both loves and fears his wife, a man who is looking for in pain, this kind of thing seems to come naturally. A brief restorative immersion. Erin is aimless, irresponsible, and the place where she comes from is also a habitat for many accidents and serendipitous events. He fell on top of her, a worship, a surrender, though only briefly and harmlessly. Before the infinite void that had taken his son's life, though he didn't know what it was, he hung his head, and this could not be mentioned in his house. So, because of her extensive reading background and her habit of doing all kinds of astute analysis (the object and angle of analysis are different from June's, but the habit of doing analysis is not so different between the two of them), Erin will give a very solid explanation of the whole thing afterwards, and can solve the matter properly. She didn't know, and never will know, if it was a completely fictional, imaginary story. A woman's body. Before and during lovemaking, they seem to be using their respective powers to discover this body, and they will in a sense identify its name, the name that shows its particularity and uniqueness, the name that has been sought out. Eventually, it was as if they had changed their minds, and they wanted it to understand that the flesh could be replaced. The same is true of women's bodies.
Erin is packing. She folded the stained, crumpled robe and placed it in the deepest part of her suitcase, hurrying to avoid that Juan would suddenly push the door in: she had already passed the door two or three times. She and Juan were the only ones left in the room. The children are all back in school. Jurte drove to town to buy some kind of plumbing fitting for the garden's irrigation system. Juan will drive Erin to the airport.
Junen came in after all. "It's a shame you're leaving so soon," she began, "and I don't think we have time to do anything for you!" We didn't have time to show you around. I wish you could stay a little longer. ”
"I didn't expect that." Erin replied. She wasn't as shocked as she was on the first day she was here, and she didn't feel strange anymore. She knew that if she stayed a few more days, Juan would definitely find time to show her around the town, even though she had seen it a long time ago. She will be taken on the cable car, taken to the park, and taken to see the totem pole.
"You must come again for a veritable visit." Juan said.
"I was going to help you, but in the end I didn't help anything." Erin said. As soon as she said this, she jerked it back and laughed at her in turn. No matter what she says today, it won't help.
"I always pack a lot more than I actually need."
Juan sat down on the bed. "You know what, he didn't die instantly in the car accident."
"Really?"
"He was alive at the time of the crash. I can't imagine anything worse could happen. The other children were only minor scratches. He may have been knocked unconscious. I had a feeling he probably had his head knocked out. Like the other children, he climbed out of the car. The car was parked on the embankment at a very peculiar angle. It was kind of like it had climbed up the embankment, and on the side of the embankment, it must have climbed to the side of the embankment, like this—" June held up one arm, fingers spread and trembling slightly, and the other hand on top—"but stuck in a corner, as if it was—cocked. I don't quite understand how this could be happening myself. I tried to imagine the scene, but I really couldn't imagine it. I mean, I can't understand the angle the car was in, I can't understand the altitude it was at. It fell down and pressed down on him. The car was like that - overwhelmed him, crushed him to death. I don't know how he stood there. Maybe he wasn't standing there. You know, he probably crawled out of the car and tried to get up. But I really can't understand it. Can you imagine it? ”
"I can't." Erin replied.
"Neither can I."
"Who told you this?"
"One of the boys, one of the boys who survived, told his mom about it, and then she told me about it."
"Maybe it's even more cruel to know this."
"Oh no!" Juan pondered, "No, I don't think so. You always want to know what happened. ”
In the mirror on the dresser, Erin could see her sister's face, the lines on the side were already showing signs of sagging, what was it waiting for, perhaps embarrassed that such an invitation had been made. To her surprise, the expression on her own face was so fitting for the scene in front of her, tactful, decent, and full of concern. She was cold and tired inside, and she just wanted to get out of this place as soon as possible. It took a lot of effort for her to pull her hand out. Actions that are not guided by faith have the potential to reshape beliefs. She believed so, and at this moment her heart was once again filled with strength, and she had to believe and hope that it was true.
Translated by Liu Liqiong