Chapter 21 Chapter 21

Jeff.Winston died alone, but he didn't die.He wakes up in the WFYI office where his first life came to an abrupt end.The radio reporter's calendar hangs on the wall, Linda's framed photo sits on the table, and he sees the cellophane weight he'd smashed years ago when he clutched at his chest and let the microphone slip.He glanced at the electronic clock on the bookshelf: 12:57 PM OCT 1888 Nine minutes to live.He didn't have time to think about anything but the pain and nothingness that was coming. His hands began to shake, and tears welled up in his eyes. Hi Jeff, Director of Communications for the new wave of campaigns.Sweeney stood in front of his open office door, staring at him.God, you're as white as a sheet of paper!What's wrong?

Jeff looks back at the clock: 1:02 PM OCT 1888 Go away, Ron. Need me to get you a gastric tablet or something?Or do you want me to call the doctor? Get out of here! Alas, sorry, I just shrugged Sweeney and closed the door behind me. The tremors in Jeff's hands spread to his shoulders, then his back.He closed his eyes, bit his upper lip, and tasted blood. the phone is ringing.He picked up the microphone with trembling hands.Starting from many lifetimes ago, after such a big circle, he finally came to the end. jeff, linda said, we need Then the invisible mallet struck his chest, killing him again.

He woke up again, looking in panic at the flashing red numbers on the opposite bookshelf: 1:05 PM OCT 1888 He smashed the cellophane weight at the clock, smashing the rectangular plastic face.The phone kept ringing.Jeff suppresses the ringer with a horrific scream, a wordless beastly roar, and he dies, wakes up with the phone in his hand, hears Linda's voice and dies again, repeat, repeat, Repeat; waking up, dying; regaining consciousness, then unconsciousness, the two happening in turn, too fast for him to notice; always stuck in the moment of the first blow to his chest. Jeff's ravaged heart screams for release from the pain, but in vain; his heart just wants to escape, whether through madness or forever forgetting, doesn't matter. But he keeps seeing, hearing, Feeling, still continuing to suffer all the pain, wandering endlessly in this terrifying darkness of immortality, staying in this eternal, numbing moment of death.

We need him to hear Linda say, talk. He felt a pain coming from somewhere.It took him a moment to discover the source: his hand, gripping the phone like a claw.Jeff let go slightly, the pain in his sweat-soaked hand eased. Jeff?Did you hear what I just said? He tried to speak but couldn't utter complete words, only a guttural sound that was half moan, half grunt. I just said we need to talk, Linda repeated, we need to sit down together and have a frank talk about our marriage.I don't know if there is any chance of saving it at this point, but I think it's worth a try. Jeff opened his eyes and looked at the clock on the bookshelf:

1:07 PM OCT 1888 Are you not going to speak?Do you understand how important this matter is to us? The numbers on the clock changed silently.Move forward to one point eight.You're right, he spat out sentences, I understand, let's talk sometime. She breathed a sigh of relief slowly.It's too late to talk, but maybe it's not too late. Don't jump to conclusions. Can you get off work early? I try my best.Jeff said his throat was dry and tight. See you at home then, said Linda, we have a lot to talk about. Jeff was still staring at the clock when he hung up the phone.The time is nine past one.

He touched his chest, feeling the steady beating of his heart underneath.He is alive, he is still alive, time has found its natural flow.Maybe it's not over yet?Maybe he had a mild heart attack, not serious but enough to make him hallucinate?It's not unheard of, either; he himself has likened it to a drowned man watching his life replay before his eyes, something he'd looked forward to when he had his first heart attack.The human mind can create amazing illusions, compressing or dilating time, especially in moments of life and death. Of course it is, he thought, and wiped his sweaty brow with relief.This makes perfect sense, much more than it would make sense to believe that he really lived many lives and experienced everything

Jeff looked at the phone again.There is only one way to be sure.Jeff felt a little stupid, but he picked up the phone and dialed Westchester County. What city do you want to call?the operator asked. New Ruoxue.Registered names are Robison, Steve or Steven.Robison. The person on the other end of the phone paused, he heard a click, and then a computer-synthesized voice read out the set of phone numbers in a monotonous tone. Maybe he's heard the man's name somewhere, Jeff thought, maybe in some unimportant news story, and his brain picks up the name, and weeks or months later Woven into his fantasies.

He dialed the number the computer had told him.A little girl answered the phone, her voice muffled by a stuffy nose. Excuse me, uh, is mom home?Jeff asked the kid. Wait a minute, Mommy!Telephone! A woman's voice came from the microphone, muffled and distorted, sounding panting.Hello?she says. It was hard to tell who she was, she was breathing so fast and out of breath. Excuse me, are you Pamela?Robison?Or Pamela.Phillips? There was no sound, not even the sound of breathing. Kimberly, the woman said, you can hang up now.And you should swallow another Kangde 600 and cough medicine now.

Pamela?After the girl hung up the extension, Jeff spoke. I am I know.Hi Jeff. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. So those things actually happened?all? "Star Sea", Montgomery Creek, Lu Suo.Hedges?do you know what i'm talking about I know.I wasn't even sure it was true until now hearing your voice.God, Jeff, I died so many times, it happened so fast, it I know, and so do I.But I want to make sure first, you remember everything we experienced together, remember our every life? I remember every lifetime.I was a doctor, an artist, you wrote a book, we were together

We fly in the sky together. I also remember.He heard her sigh, a long, empty sigh full of regret, exhaustion, and more complex emotions.about the last day, that thing in central park I thought it was my last life, I thought you were dead.Will never come back.I want to spend the last time with you, even if it's just part of you, even if she doesn't know the real me. She said nothing, and the silence that hung between them soon became as insurmountable as those lost years. what should we do?Pamela finally spoke. I don't know, Jeff said, I haven't been able to think about it yet, what about you?

Me too, she admits, I don't know what to do, what's best for us right now.She paused, hesitating.You know Kimberly is sick and out of school today, that's why she's answering the phone, but she's not just out of school with a cold, it's also the first day of her period.I died when she was just beginning to be a woman.but now I see.he told her. I never watched her grow up, neither did her father.And Christopher, he's just started high school and the last few years have been a big time for them. It's too soon for both of us to make a definite plan right now, Jeff said, too much to think about, too much to coordinate. I'm really glad to know it's not something I imagined. Pamela, he searched hard for the words to express all his feelings, I just want you to understand how much I am I understand, you don't need to say anything more. He gently put the microphone down, then stared at it for a long time.They've probably been through too much together, seen, known, and shared more in this world than they're entitled to experience.They have gained and lost; they have been persistent and let go. Pamela once said they just made things different, not better.This is not entirely true.Their actions sometimes have good results for themselves and the world.Sometimes the results are negative, but most often the results are neither good nor bad.Every life is different, just as every choice is different and has unpredictable consequences.But one has to make choices after all, Jeff thought.He may lose some, but he has learned to accept and hope that the outcome outweighs the loss.Because he knows that the only sure failure and greatest sorrow in life is never taking risks. Jeff looked up and saw his reflection on the dusty glass doors of the bookshelf, the graying hair, the bags under the eyes, the fine lines starting to creep up his forehead.These imprints of the years have never been smoothed out, but only deepened and increased. Time has carved new marks on his face and body with indelible hieroglyphs every year. But these years would be new years, and he continued to contemplate events unheard of, feelings he had never experienced, the uncertain future from which he had until now been shut out.New movies, new plays, new technological developments, new music God, how he longed to hear a new song, any one, as long as he hadn't heard it before! It turns out that the endless cycle he and Pamela are forced to go through is life-limiting, not liberating.They let themselves fall into the trap of thinking that it is fun to focus on future choices, but this is just an illusion, just like Lydia who has blind hope for youth.Like Landau, he thought that there was always a choice in life.We still have a lot of time.When Jeff heard her say that, his mind went back to what he had repeated to Pamela: next time, next time. Everything is different now.This isn't a next time, and there won't be a next time.They only had this one time, and Jeff had no idea where the one and only life was going to go or how it would turn out.He will never waste his life, or any moment of his life. Jeff stood up and walked out of the office into the busy news room.There is a large horseshoe-shaped desk in the middle of the room, and the editor of the noon news, Jane.Collins was sitting at the desk. Around him, computer terminals were beating real-time news from the Associated Press, United Press International, and Reuters at any time. The TV screen was locked on CNN and the three major television networks. A communication console was interacting with The radio reporters at the news site and the special correspondents of their radio network in Los Angeles, Beirut, Tokyo and other places connected. Jeff felt the novelty of a world that had become unpredictable again like electricity running through him.A news writer hurried by, rushing a green newsflash slip into the broadcast room.Something big happens, it may be a catastrophe, or it may be a miraculous discovery that will benefit mankind.Whatever it was, Jeff knew, it would be news to him and everyone else. He will talk to Linda tonight.Although he wasn't sure what to say, they should have a good talk, which he owed Linda and himself.He wasn't sure of anything anymore, and it was exciting, as expected.He might try again with Linda, he might reunite with Pamela one day, he might change jobs.But the only important thing is that in the remaining twenty-five years of his life, he is the only master, and he has to live the life he chooses and plan for himself.Nothing is more important than this; work, friendships, relationships with women.These were all part of his life, valuable parts at that, but his life was no longer defined or controlled by them.He is the one who decides the value of life, and only he can do it. Jeff understood that he had endless possibilities.