Chapter 17 Chapter Seventeen

An attempt to attack the US embassy in Tehran was repulsed by the US 82nd Airborne Division which has surrounded the US diplomatic outpost since last year.At least 132 Iranian revolutionaries are believed to have died in the attack, while U.S. casualties now stand at 17 dead and 26 wounded.President Reagan has ordered a new wave of airstrikes against rebel bases in the mountains east of Tabriz, where Khomeini is believed to be hiding. Turn the damn thing off.Jeff told Luso.hedges. Revolutionary High Command.In the United States, the death toll since last week's terrorist bomb attack at Madison Square Garden has now reached 682.The communiqué issued by the so-called November Squad threatened to continue attacking the continental United States until all US armed forces were withdrawn from the Middle East.Soviet Foreign Minister Gromyko declared the Soviet Union's sympathy for the freedom fighters of the Islamic Jihad.Gromyko also said that the presence of the U.S. Sixth Fleet in the Arabian Sea is tantamount to

Jeff leaned forward and snapped the TV off.Hedges shrugged, popped a peppermint lifebuoy into his mouth, and picked up the pencil in a gesture that seemed to shake his inseparable cigarette. What about Soviet troops in Afghanistan?asked Hedges.Are they ready for a tough fight with our forces in Iran? I have no idea.Jeff said grimly. How powerful were Khomeini's followers?Is there a way we can keep the Shah of Iran in power, at least until next year's elections? Fuck I don't know!Jeff exploded.How would I know?Reagan wasn't even president before, not in 1979, and that was the mess Carter had to clean up.And we never sent troops to Iran.Everything has changed, and now I don't know what the hell is going to happen.

But you must have some idea about I don't know, I have no idea.He looked to Pamela, who was sitting, glaring at Hedges.Her face was elongated and pale, but within a few years her face lost its feminine roundness and became as thin and pointed as Jeff's.He took her hand and pulled her up.We're going for a walk.He told Hedges. I still have some questions. That's your problem.I have run out of ways to provide an answer. Hedges sucked on the lifebuoy and looked at Jeff with those hard blue eyes.Well, he said, we'll talk over dinner. Jeff told him again that it was no good, that the world was on a strange and uncertain track, and that neither he nor Pamela could offer advice, but he also knew that there was little point in making such a statement nor.Hedges has always believed that they possess psychic abilities and can predict the future in the present situation.He was silent, but he blamed them for their reservations when their foreknowledge was extinguished by drastic changes in world events.These days they are injected with sodium pentoxate (Annotation: a general anesthetic, which can weaken the inhibition of part of the brain, often used as a truth agent in intelligence interrogation.) and use lie detector devices, which provide useful information. Not much, but they no longer resist drug interrogation.Perhaps, they thought, as the value of the answers dwindled, no one would bother, and perhaps one day be released from this lengthy period of protective custody.They both knew it was hopeless, and though they held on to it, it was better than accepting the obvious that they were going to be here until they died again.

The sea was calm and blue today, and they could see Poplar Island off the west coast as they walked along the dunes.In the area enclosed by the floats, a small group of fishing boats are twirling their lines and busying themselves with the rich oyster beds of Chesapeake Bay.Jeff and Pamela greedily enjoyed the apparent tranquility of the familiar scene, ignoring as much as possible the groups of black-clothed men who remained twenty yards away. Why don't we lie to them?asked Pamela.Tell them there will be war if our troops stay in Iran.God, we all know that this might actually lead to war.

Jeff stopped and picked up a slender piece of driftwood.They'll see through, especially when they're using pentoxate on us. We can still try it out. But who knows what lies like that can do?Reagan might launch a pre-emptive strike.In the end we may have detonated a war that may still be avoidable. Pamela shuddered.Stewart.McGowan must be very happy, her tone is very bitter, no matter where others are. We did what we thought was right, and no one expected it to turn out like this.It turned out not to be completely useless, and we saved a lot of lives. You can't put human life on the scales like this!

is not possible, but They don't even act on storms or crashes anymore.She said in disgust, and kicked into the sand.They want everyone, especially the Soviets, to think we're gone, so they sit back and let those people die for nothing! Die like they always do. She turned to face him, an anger he had never seen on her face.That doesn't cancel out what we do, Jeff!We are supposed to make the world a better and safer place in our lives, but all we really care about is ourselves, how long our little precious life can last.But we can't even do that. Those scientists could still come up with a

I could not care less!When I watch the news, I think about how many deaths have been caused by what we told Hedges: Terrorist attacks, military operations, maybe a major war is about to start when I look at this, I wish I had never filmed That damn movie, I hope you never come to Los Angeles to find me! Jeff tossed the piece of driftwood aside and looked at her with unbelievable pain. You are not serious.He said. Yes, I mean it!I regret meeting you! Pamela, please She waved her hand, flushing with anger.I won't talk to Hedges again, nor will you.I'm going to move to a room on the third floor.Tell them whatever the fuck you want, go ahead, get us all into war, blow up the damn planet!She turned and ran, fell awkwardly on the sand and got up again, rushing towards the house where they were imprisoned.A team of guards ran after her, while others surrounded Jeff from both sides.He watched her leave, watched the group escort her back to the house.Hedges was standing in the doorway, and Jeff heard her yelling at him, but suddenly a gust of wind from the bay swallowed the words, drowning out the meaning of her yelling.

Jeff awoke to a cold, artificially-smelling draft.Dazzling and thin beams of light poured in from between the half-closed movable shutters, illuminating the bedroom with not much furniture.A portable stereo was sitting quietly on the floor in front of the bed, and an old cassette recorder and a microphone with the WIOD logo on it were placed on a stack of clothes in the closet. A distant chime drowned out the sound of the air conditioner, and Jeff recognized it as the doorbell; if left alone, the person who rang the bell would walk away sooner or later.He glanced at the book in his hand, "The Algiers Hotel Tragedy", John.He Said.Jeff tossed the book aside, spun out of bed, and walked to the window.Lifting up a white shutter, he peeped out and saw a row of tall king coconuts, and beyond that there was nothing but a flat swamp stretching all the way to the horizon.

The doorbell rang again, and he heard the whirr of the jet approaching, then saw it slip behind coconut trees a few hundred yards away.Jeff understood, and the plane landed at Fort Lauderdale Hollywood International Airport.He was at Denia's apartment, only a mile from the sea and too close to the airport, but it was his first real residence, his first completely private living space as an adult.He was working his first full-time journalism job, in Miami, his first professional stop. He took a deep breath of the cold and stale air, and sat back on the messy bed.He died exactly at 1:60 on October 18, 1988, as scheduled.The world has not yet had a large-scale war, not yet, although the world has

The doorbell rang again, longer this time, in fact it kept ringing.Damn, why didn't they just leave?The doorbell stopped and immediately rang a fourth time.Jeff found a T-shirt and cut-off jeans from the pile of clothes on the closet and put them on, strode out of the room angrily, determined to get rid of whoever the person at the door was.As soon as he entered the living room, he was thrown into a hot and humid air. The air conditioner in the living room must have been broken, which is why he was still in the bedroom in broad daylight.Even the broad-leaved fern in the corner of the living room looked sluggish, completely defeated by the terrifying indoor heat.Jeff opened the door just as the doorbell started ringing rapidly again.

Standing in the doorway was Linda, the golden locks of her wavy tawny hair gleaming in the sunlight from behind.Linda, his wife, was at one point, but not yet.She was all smiles, holding a bouquet of daisies in her outstretched hand to him, and she had a glimpse of her nascent love for him.In my memory, it was as if all the daisies in the world had been plucked and held in her hands. The unforgettable face in the sweet memory was shining with youthful happiness and infinite beauty. Jeff felt tears welling in his eyes, but he couldn't take them away from her.This precious scene has been treasured in his memory for countless years, and now it is reappearing in front of his eyes. Time has not damaged its beloved brilliance. He can't bear to blink, fearing that any moment will be lost.too long, too long, too long Are you not going to invite me in?Her girly voice was shy and alluring. Ah, of course.I'm so sorry, please come in please come in.That's pretty cool.This bouquet is beautiful, thank you.What a big surprise. Do you have containers for flowers?God, it's hotter in here than outside. The air conditioner is broken, I'll wait a minute, I'll look for a container to put flowers in.He looked around the room restlessly, trying to remember if he had a vase at all. Maybe in the kitchen?Linda has a useful idea. Yes, good idea, I'll look for it.Would you like a bottle of beer, or a Coke? Ice water is fine.She followed him into the tiny kitchen, where he poured her a large glass of ice water from a jug he found in the refrigerator, while she dug out a vase from the box.Thank you, she said, and he took the bouquet while she fanned herself with open hands.Can the window be opened? The air conditioner in my room is normal, do you want to go to my room? Well, better put the vase there too.At this temperature, the flowers wither quickly. He put the flowers on the bedside table and watched her circling in front of the air conditioner outlet. She was wearing a halter dress, and crystal beads of sweat could be faintly seen on her bare skin. Well, it's so comfortable!As she spoke, she raised her slender arms above her head, a position that made her small, firm breasts bulge under her white gown. These things had happened before, Jeff remembered.Looking for a vase, entering the room to enjoy the air-conditioning, how long ago has she turned around and made that gesture?The reincarnation of several generations, the world changes. Her large, watery brown eyes gazed at him with passion.God, it's been years since anyone looked at him like that.Pamela kept her word, secluded herself in the top floor of her Maryland house, and avoided looking at him when she had dinner with someone occasionally.For the past nine years, the eye that Jeff remembers most clearly is that of Luso.Hedges's cold blue eyes, as the world turns into a living hell of terrorist attacks, US-Soviet border conflict, a place Jeff is unfamiliar and impossible to predict, Hedges looks at him with increasing hostility. Jeff wondered, what will the greatly changed world look like? Does it continue to run on the branched timeline following the track that Jeff and Pamela accidentally set with good intentions at the beginning?It has been three years since the United States entered martial law after squads destroyed the Golden Gate Bridge and massacred at the United Nations headquarters in November.With the 1988 presidential election postponed indefinitely due to new restrictions on large public gatherings, the heads of the three major intelligence organizations used the state of emergency as the de facto power in the country. The rise of a fascist America certainly plays into the hands of the terrorists operating underground in various countries and fulfills their original purpose.What they hope most is the emergence of a truly oppressive regime in the United States that even ordinary people want to overthrow.Of course, unless their real purpose is to make the CIA, NSA, and FBI, which currently control the transitional government and have a strong anti-communist stance, decide to start a nuclear conflict around the world.Nuclear war has been a threat since the late 1970s. Linda stood there, her smooth bare back facing the blast of cold air, her eyes closed, and one hand holding her hair raised above her head so that her slender neck could enjoy the cool wind.The sunlight filtering through the shutter blades made her dancer's slender legs loom under the transparent white dress. Pamela was right to forsake him, Jeff thought bitterly; though inadvertent and altruistic, they were to blame for the havoc they had unleashed.When they were exposed to the world and bartered with the government for the meager information, the damage was sown and the other world must be suffering from it now.It's up to her, in this case, whether the two of them can forgive the savage violence they have brought to the world in the name of kindness and compassion. He may even have to wait several years, maybe ten years, before he has the opportunity to be with him again. She, speaking, leveled their estrangement and accepted the tragic end of her inability to improve the fate of mankind.The world was lost for certain, just as he would lose Pamela for an unknown age, perhaps eternity. Oh I itch.Linda said in her sweet, clear voice, and Jeff couldn't understand her for a moment.Then he remembered that she used to love delicate touch, and he would use his fingertips to stroke her skin slowly and gently in a way that was too light to be called touching.He took one from the bouquet of daisies she had given him, and drew an imaginary straight line with its feathery petals along her ears, neck, and shoulders, slid down her right arm and climbed up her left. arm. Well, it's so comfortable, she whispered, here, here too.She loosened the spaghetti straps of her dress, allowing it to slide away from her girlish breasts.Jeff caressed her with the flower, and when he felt himself harden, he bent down and kissed the buds on either side of her.Oh, I love it when you kiss me like that, sighed Linda, I love you! On this perfect day lived twice, he took solace in the unrestrained passion and love she had denied him for so long.In her love for him, he regained his love for her, he was reborn. The Moroccan sun had turned Linda's lemon-colored tresses a paler yellow, and behind the long bar hung a tapestry of bright gold that seemed to be shining through a gap in the clouds, and her hair seemed to be reflecting the light from the tapestry. shine. The North Atlantic rocked the boat gently, and she gripped the railing in front of the bar, smiling broadly.Her gin and tony slid on the sloping oak table.She grasped it deftly, and the ice cubes in the glass jingled with her laughter. ＊Madam, would you like another drink? *(Annotation: The original text here is in French. The original text between the following two asterisks * is in French.) asked the bartender. Linda turned to Jeff.Would you like another drink? He shook his head, gulping down his Jack Daniel's soda.Why don't we walk around on deck?It's warm tonight and I want to see the sea.He signed the bill with the room number and handed it to the bartender. ＊Thank you, Heimeng, see you tomorrow. *He said. *See you tomorrow, sir.Thanks. * He bent Linda's hand and walked across the slightly rocking bar of the tanker to the deck.The huge red and black funnels of French cruise ships stand out against the night sky.The smooth parallel fins look like the tail fins of two giant whales frozen in midair as they leap.The great ship met a high wave, and then sank gently into the boundless and steady sea.There were not many clouds, and the stars overhead were clearly visible, but there was a thunderstorm cloud top in the far south, and the horizon was lit by continuous lightning strikes.The storm was headed here, but they were about thirty miles away before the storm could reach the ocean. Hilda had not been so lucky to escape the sudden wrath of the sky; in his papyrus boat, far from land, he would have seen the approaching storm with a different mood, his eyes must have been weary and worried.A storm interrupted his voyage last year, forcing him to abandon his badly damaged ship in rough seas, only 600 miles short of his destination. Do you think he can do it this time?Linda asked, looking at the jagged clouds illuminated by lightning in the distance.She was thinking the same thing, wondering what would be the fate of the kindly bearded Norwegian, who had labored together and shared the fruits of their hard work for the past three weeks in Safi's ancient fortified port. Original style, built his own old style boat, just launched a week ago. He will be successful.Jeff was sure. The strong wind from the approaching storm flapped Linda's thin blouse, her hands clinging to the railing of the boat.Why are you so obsessed with him?she asked curiously. Just like I admire Michael.Collins and Richard.Gordon for the same reason.he told her.And Lusa, Wharton, and Mattingly, and the POWs who were coming home three years later, in 1973, Jeff wanted to add.that isolated, utterly isolated situation But Hilda brought a crew of seven, she reminded, and Collins and Gordon were really alone in the capsule, at least for a while. Sometimes isolation can be shared.Jeff said, looking at the churning ocean.The warm scent of an approaching tropical cyclone reminded him of the Mediterranean Sea, of the day the same smell wafted into the open windows of a villa in Mallorca.The spicy flavor of Spanish paella, Luo Lindo.The tearing longing in Almeda's guitar, the joy and sorrow in Pamela's dying eyes. Linda saw the shadow creeping up Jeff's face and put her hand on Jeff's, holding it as tightly as she had gripped the railing of the boat.Sometimes I worry about you, she said, I don't know if the plan is right when you talk about loneliness and loneliness, it seems to make you too depressed. He pulled Linda closer to him and kissed the top of her head.No, he assured her in an emotional voice, it didn't make me depressed, just sentimental. But Jeff knew that wasn't the truth, and that it was his sentimentality that brought him full attention to the task, not the other way around.Since that day in August 1968, when he was reborn, he found Linda waiting at the door holding a large bouquet of fresh daisies. Linda's appearance, her unreserved love that was different from the past, gradually healed his wounds. hole mind.But not even reliving the good old days they had shared so long ago could make him forget Lusso completely.The suffering that Hedges indirectly imposed on the world in his previous life, as well as the alienation and strangeness between him and Pamela.Guilt and remorse go hand in hand, forming an uninterrupted undercurrent that continues to erode his renewed love for this once-married woman.His dwindling love for Linda led to new regrets; the more he believed that he could change his feelings, let the past be past, give himself completely to Linda as she now did to him, the guilt of such a belief Feeling, the more it makes everything worse. He immediately resigned from his job as a reporter at WIOD Radio in Miami. Ever since he blamed himself for what happened in the days of the walking dead in the Maryland government house, he can no longer digest the daily search, observation, and reporting of human tragedies. Mission gone.That October, Jeff waited until Detroit fell to a 3-1 record before betting all his savings on the Tigers, betting that they would win the final three World Series.Mickey.Roerich was going to hit that home run for him, and Jeff knew that. He used his winnings to buy an oceanfront apartment in Pompano Beach, near where Linda's parents lived and went to school.Linda went to see him every day after class, and they swam in the gentle sea together, and when she was studying, he sat with her by the swimming pool in his residence.She moved in with him that spring, telling her parents they had found a place of their own.They accepted the story, never visited the tenth-floor ocean-facing apartment that Jeff and Linda shared, and welcomed him to their house for dinner every Sunday night. In the summer of 1969 they conceived the project that now consumes so much of his energy.Over coffee at the dinner table one Sunday night, Linda's father planted an idea in his head.Up until then, Jeff had been in the habit of not watching the news, always politely turning away from national or world events.But that week, his former father-in-law had been holding on to the topic, which was Saul.Helda's just-failed voyage and the Norwegian's quixotic attempt to prove that early explorers sailed in small boats made of papyrus and reeds more than 3,000 years before Columbus arrived in America Has spread Egyptian culture to the Americans. Linda's father scoffs at Helda's conception, calling his near-successful voyage a complete failure, and Jeff knows that the anthropologist-turned-adventurer is about to reach his destination on a second expedition a year later. , but he was silent.Still, the conversation got him thinking, and that night he listened to the sound of the rushing tide coming from the window of his apartment, and imagined that he was drifting on the dark sea in the thin boat he built with his own hands until dawn.It was a fragile little boat, perhaps lost to this year's storms, but that setback would not prevent her from returning next year to conquer the sea that swallowed her. He and Linda drove to Cape Kennedy that month, as they had done before, to see how the massive Saturn V rocket used its explosive power to launch Apollo 13 to the moon.After the spaceship lifts off, they and tens of thousands of vehicles packed with onlookers roam the overdeveloped Gold Coast, and Jeff's mind is preoccupied with living in isolation and escaping the daily grind of human life.He wanted not the hermit days he had pursued by the banks of Montgomery Creek, but a voyage of utter isolation, a solitary epic voyage toward an unproven goal. Jeff was sure Hilda knew what it was like to see off the crew of the spaceship they had just set off on, and in this group, there was no one better than Michael.Collins understood his feelings better.Despite Armstrong's and (to a lesser extent) Odlin's glorious first steps on the moon, uttering the first words doctored and edited by the media, and planting the flag on the surface of the moon, While his crew was on the lunar surface for a dramatic moment, he was lonelier than any man in his life, a quarter of a million miles away from Earth, in orbit on a strange world, with the hostile nearest humans below him on the planet.As the command module carried him around the far side of the moon, Collins couldn't even communicate with his companions on the radio, and couldn't see the distant blue planet where he was born.He faced the boundless and desolate universe in a state of extreme loneliness and tranquility, and only five other people in the world had experienced a similar situation. As he was stuck in traffic for thirty miles on U.S. 1 near Malibu, Jeff knew one thing: He had to meet these people and get to know them.Perhaps, by doing so, he would gain a deeper understanding of himself, of the lonely time travel he and Pamela were forced to join. The following week, he made a trip to Houston that would be only the first of many.He took advantage of last year's invitation to Earl.The word-of-mouth built by Warren during the interview persuaded NBC to help him obtain a press card from NASA as a freelance reporter.He interviewed Stewart.Lusa, and gradually became friends with him, and then met Richard through Lusa.Gordon, Alfred.Wharton and others, Michael.Collins was even the accessible crew member, with the attention and sweet talk of the whole world focused on the man who actually stepped on the moon, not the Collins who stayed in lunar orbit at the time, and who will remain in lunar orbit soon. At first he hoped to go on a quest to understand himself, but he quickly went beyond that.For the first time in many years, Jeff used his talent as a reporter to skillfully explore the thoughts and memories of the interviewees. They no longer regarded the conversation as an interview, and they let go of their guards in front of his sincerity. Start talking to him on a deeply human level.Pathos, humor, anger, fear: Jeff elicits emotions from these spacemen that he hasn't revealed before.And Jeff knew that their particular view of the universe was a treasure he couldn't keep private and that had to be shared with the world. That autumn he wrote to Helda arranging a first meeting with the explorer, that in Norway and then in Morocco.As the primal impulses that led Jeff to these special people swelled, and the impressions and feelings he gleaned from them began to speak their own voices, he finally understood what he had unconsciously but determinedly formed. It is a book about himself. The metaphors formed by these lonely voyagers have become his way of facing his own unique experience, and are used to interpret the inner emotions intertwined with accumulated gains and losses and regrets. Another bolt of lightning illuminated the distant thunderclouds, and pale white reflections danced and played here and there on Linda's angelic face. Joy, too, Jeff thought; watching Linda's face smile at him, his fingertips brushing her cheek lightly.He too must share in the joy. Like most rooms in this Hillsborough waterfront house, just south of Boca Raton, Jeff's study has a view of the ocean.He became more and more dependent on the unchanging vista and the endless sound of the tide, as he had once been fascinated by the snow-capped Mount Shasta seen from his Montgomery Creek dwelling.This scene soothed him and became a source of stability for him, but every night when the moon rose from the sea, this scene always reminded him that there was still a movie to be finished in this world, and there was still a best-forgotten part in his heart. past. He stepped on the pedal of the Sony dictation machine, and even through the mini-amplifier of the small recording and playback equipment, the deep resonance of the strong Russian accent in the tape was still clearly heard.Jeff had already completed half of the interview, and whenever he heard the voice, he could seem to see the man's extremely modest home in Zurich, with the little crepes and Caviar snacks, perfectly chilled mint vodka.Also haunting are his words, the unexpected flashes of wit in his vivid and eloquent descriptions of the suffering of the world, and even the laughter of this burly bearded man with an unmistakable red fringe.Several times during this highly intellectual week in Switzerland, Jeff couldn't resist telling the man how much he understood his grief, his powerless rage in the face of irreparable tragedy.Of course Jeff didn't tell him he couldn't.He holds his tongue, competently playing the role of fledgling but insightful interviewer, faithfully recording the thoughts of the great man; letting him have his own grief, as Jeff had his own. There was a hesitant knock on the door, and Linda called out to him, Honey, do you want to catch your breath? All right, he said, turning off the dictator and VCR, come in. She opened the door, balancing a tray with two slices of lime pie and two cups of Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee. Nutritional essentials.she laughed. Well Jeff sniffed greedily the strong aroma of coffee and the cool aroma of fresh lemon pie. Not just nutrition, it's so much better than that. How is Solzhenitsyn's interview done?Linda sat cross-legged on the king-size plush bench next to his desk, with a tray on her lap.great.There's so much to put together and the material is so good I don't know where to cut or rewrite it. Is it better than the one picked from Nguyen Van Thieu? much better.Jeff took a bite of the extremely delicious pie, while taking the time to say. There are quite a few good quotes from Nguyen Van Thieu's sources that would qualify for inclusion in this book, but Solzhenitsyn's interviews are the backbone.This project excites me. He had good reason to be excited, Jeff knew; new writing projects had been taking shape in his mind since he started writing his first book about Hilda and the astronauts on the moon.Two years ago, in 1973, when it was published, it received a good response from book reviews and sales.But he was sure that his current book would beat even the best chapters of the previous book. What he wants to write this time is the story of being forced into exile, expelled from his hometown, homeland, and compatriots.In this theme, he thought he could find and convey a universal emotional resonance, and this understanding was born out of the metaphorical exile experience that everyone encountered. Jeff grasped this theme better than anyone before him: the human Inevitably, they are expelled from the years they lived and left behind, and they are forced to say goodbye to the past selves they once knew but lost forever. As he told Linda, the long meditation Jeff elicited on Solzhenitsyn, a meditation on exile rather than the Gulag years, was certainly the most profound observation he had interviewed to date.The book also includes material drawn from his correspondence with the deposed Cambodian King Sihanouk, who and JuanInterviews with Pei Long in Madrid and Buenos Aires, Nguyen Van Thieu's reflections after the fall of Saigon.Jeff even spoke with Khomeini at his apartment outside Paris.To ensure that the book was accessible to the general public, he also gathered the opinions of dozens of ordinary political exiles who had been forced to flee dictatorial regimes of either ideological left or right. His accumulated notes and tapes are overflowing with powerful and deeply moving stories and emotions.Jeff's task now is to distill the essence out of millions of heartfelt words, to keep the chaff, and to juxtapose it in the most appropriate context in order to maximize its raw appeal.The title of his planned book is The Harp on the Willows, a quote from Psalm 137 of the Old Testament: We sat down by the river in Babylon and wept thinking of Zion. We hung our harp on the willow tree over there How can we sing the song of the LORD in a foreign land? Jeff finished his lime pie, set the plate aside, and sipped the rich, intoxicating taste of freshly brewed Jamaican coffee. How long do you think it will take Linda to speak when the question is interrupted by the high-pitched ringing of the telephone on the desk. Hello?He picked up the phone. Hello, Jeff.A familiar voice he had known for three lifetimes came. He didn't know what to say.Over the past eight years, he has imagined this moment countless times, fearing and longing, until he almost believes that it will never come.And now, at this very moment, he found himself unable to utter a word, and all the opening lines he had rehearsed carefully disappeared from his mind like wisps of smoke in the wind. Is it convenient for you to speak?asked Pamela. Not very convenient.said Jeff, looking at Linda uncomfortably.He could see that she had noticed the change in his expression and was watching him with curiosity and no suspicion. I understand, Pamela told him, should I call back later, or can we meet somewhere? That's better. that good?call later? No, it's not.I think we should meet up, find a time soon. can you come to new yorkshe asked. anytime.time and place? Is this Thursday okay? no problem.He said. Thursday afternoon, then, at the Peel Hotel?Where is the bar? sounds good.two o'clock? Three o'clock is more convenient for me, Pamela said, I have an appointment with someone in Xicheng District at one o'clock. good.I'll see you on Thursday. Jeff hung up the phone, realizing how pale and startled he must have looked. An old friend from college, Martin.Bailey.He lied, and he hated himself for lying. Oh, yes, your roommate.What's wrong?The concern in Linda's voice and expression was genuine. There are serious problems between him and his wife, and it looks like a divorce may be on the way.He's in a terrible mood right now and needs someone to talk to.I'm going to Atlanta for a few days to see if I can help. Linda gave him a sympathetic and innocent smile, but Jeff didn't feel any better about her being so quick to believe his impromptu lie.The sharp sense of guilt stabbed him like a sharp knife.His guilt was intensified by the sudden and undeniable joy at seeing Pamela again in three days.