Chapter 30 twenty

I was out for a walk at lunchtime this day and met young Potter again in Wintergarden.This time he was sitting on a patio bench, reading a book.It had been weeks, maybe even more than a month, since the last time I spoke with him at the citrus grove.I've worn out several pairs of shoes during this time.Every time I go out for a walk, I change the small paper ball in the right pocket of my trousers to the right pocket of another trousers, so as to keep track of the location of the small paper ball.As soon as I saw Potter sitting among the palm trees, partly hidden by the small fountain, I put my hands in my pockets, swayed up to the patio, and stopped to say hi.

He looked up absently from his book. Uh, hi, he recognized me and said: How are you? Very good, I said: How about you? very good.He pushed his glasses with his index finger, his eyes flicked up and down slightly, obviously wanting to continue to return to the book, but he remained polite and tried to squeeze out a friendly smile at me.I didn't want him to think that I was the kind of person who didn't have any nerves, and insisted on disturbing other people's peaceful home, so I pretended to keep walking, but stopped, as if I remembered something, and said: Did you find a new house?

It worked.His face lit up, he closed the book, and with a finger in the book as a mark, he decided to take a break. It went well, he said: We just went to see a very nice apartment yesterday. It has four rooms and a small yard. Although it is very close to the neighbors, the plants in the yard grow densely, which can block the view.It is on the second floor, the top floor overlooks the park, there is a large playground outside, there are nurseries and schools nearby, and there are many families with young children in the community. I can't help but shudder at the thought of living in a place like that.Living in that kind of place, surrounded by scattered household noises, is like a dough that rises and rises around you.People who are single and don't want to be heard or can't let themselves be heard, and who don't want to expand their territory in this way, will just be ignored by others, destroyed into nothingness, and then annihilated.Potter was chattering and chattering, so I tried not to let the words distract me, and listened to Potter detailing this wonderful, child-friendly neighborhood.I took my right hand out of my pocket and held the ball of paper between the palm and pinky, ring and middle fingers.Porter went on to talk about the apartment, its functional design, how the kids' room was furnished, the ultrasound of his partner's unborn twins, and more.

Do you want to see it?He said: I have it.Before I could answer, I pulled my wallet out of my back pocket. Usually I would hesitate, or even refuse, making up an excuse that I was in a hurry and that I had seen enough fuzzy ultrasound images of fetuses in need, but of course I couldn't pass up such a great opportunity for such a trivial matter. So I sat down on the bench next to Potter, and he handed me the little blurry photo.I pretended to be interested, and took it with my right thumb and index finger, while the other three fingers still held the paper ball.He pointed to the lines and shadows in the photo, and the two kidney-shaped areas.I nodded and said that was awesome or something and asked how old were the twins?Does he look forward to being a father?He answered and explained, talking on and on.We sat on the bench, leaning over the little photo, pointing at it, asking for an explanation, and I managed to slip the little ball of paper out of my hand and into his.Then I glanced at his face, he didn't show surprise, he just nodded slightly, it was almost hard to distinguish without looking carefully, and he blinked slightly.I realized that he actually knew that my interest in asking so many questions was just a disguise.After looking at the photo, he put the photo and the small paper ball into his wallet and stuffed it back into his pocket.

A few weeks later, I met Potter again, this time at night, in the E4 area.Alice lives in that area, and she borrowed a DVD from the library and invited me, Elsa, Reina, and Fifi to watch it together, and at the same time taste her fruitcake with tea.It was a romantic comedy, a lackluster one, full of confusion and misunderstandings, and ended with a wedding.As soon as the cast list appeared on the screen, Aisha and Feifei said goodbye.They've been together a lot lately, they've been in and out together, and I've come to understand that they're in love.Not long after Aisha and Feifei left, I also wanted to go back to Johannes, so I thanked Alice and left her place.Just as I was leaving E4, I saw Potter in the laundry room, drying the floor.

Are the pipes clogged?As I spoke, I stopped, hesitated for a moment at the door, and then leaned against the door frame. He looked up. Yes, he sighed.For the third time this week. We stood there for a while, or rather, I stood, and he knelt.We talk about clogged water pipes and how to fix them.The water pipes in my house were old and small and often clogged, so I can give him some advice on how to solve the problem, as well as tips on how to avoid clogging in the future. When he was done he said at least it was done this time and replaced the cap on the drain, stood up, walked past me, and was about to leave.As we said goodbye, a small, neatly folded piece of paper was passed from his hand to mine, and I slipped it into my pocket.

When I got back to my apartment, it wasn't very late, but Johannes was already asleep.He left a light on the kitchen sink.I heard him sighing in his sleep from the bedroom; it wasn't snoring, but it wasn't normal breathing either, it sounded like a dreaming child, like my brother Ole's.Ole was four years old and I was nine, and we went on vacation at the cottage, where he and Ida shared a room with me.It sounded like a late summer breeze blowing through a cornfield, and it made me feel calm and safe. I sat down at the dining table in the dark.In his sleep Johannes would smack his lips from time to time, babble in a thick voice (which was nothing like Ole), and then resume his regular sighing.Apart from Johannes' voice, there was only the slight hum of the air-conditioning system in the room, and otherwise there was complete silence.On the table lay a rock that Johannes had picked up from the beach, and next to it was a magazine, I can't remember what it was.I stroke the stone, tracing the outline of the cone with my index finger.It had been an animal, or at least part of an animal.I take the stone, hold it in my hand, wrap my fingers around it, turn it around in my hand.The stones are cool and round, and feel good.I put down the stone, pulled the magazine in front of me, flipped through a few pages at random, pretended to scan the articles, and reached into my pockets, pretending to stretch my legs, while fumbling for the scrap of paper Potter handed me.I clamped the piece of paper, pulled out my hand as quietly as possible, sandwiched the piece of paper between the index finger and middle finger, and spread it carefully under the table.I put the magazine on the edge of the table, quickly sandwich the paper between two magazine pages, and then just turn to the page with the paper sandwiched.When I turned the page, I leaned forward, resting one elbow on the table and resting my chin on the palm of my hand, blocking the paper as much as possible.

My night vision isn't particularly good, so it took me a while to figure out what that piece of paper was.It wasn't a note, it wasn't a letter, not a single word was written or printed on it.It was two color photographs, printed side by side in the middle of the paper.I move slightly so the kitchen light is cast on the photo. The photo, taken in Stan and Lisa's yard, shows York on the left with the couple's youngest daughter, who has puffy cheeks, black curly hair, and large, round brown eyes with a Funny little upturned nose.With a blue ball in his mouth (at least it looked like one), York ran towards the little girl, head held high, proud and unafraid.Little girl in jeans, rubber shoes, a blue knitted sweater with a red cart wrapped around it, and a gray scarf.She was grinning and clapping her hands above her head.She seemed to have grown a bit, taller and thinner, much stronger.Her older brother, who was two years older, wore the sweater last fall.The grass where she and York played was strewn with red, brown, and yellow autumn leaves.Several yellow and white mushrooms protrude from the ground.There are also windblown fruits on the ground, including red and light green apples, which have been half-pecked by birds and are already rotten.A chicken coop and two spotted hens can be seen in the background.Stan's red bicycle, with child seats front and rear, was parked at the far end of the chicken coop, clearly visible.

In the photo on the right, York and Lisa are seated on a bench in front of the house and flower beds, where a few roses and marigolds are still in bloom, juxtaposing the crimson ivy that sprawls across the wall.York and Lisa faced each other, Lisa put one hand on York's shoulder, York's ears were pricked up, Lisa's eyebrows were slightly raised, and both mouths were slightly opened, as if they were singing a song together.It was a very funny picture, I laughed out loud and at the same time a different kind of laughter came out inside, a kind of mixed sigh of relief and sad sadness and it exploded in my chest and went all over the place between my breastbones Bumping around, trying to find an outlet to vent.But it's impossible, I dare not release it.That energy is too strong, I dare not release it.

I folded up the paper with the photo on it, put it back in my pocket quietly, got up and turned off the kitchen light, fumbled in the dark to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth, then walked softly into the bedroom, took off my clothes, got under the covers, and got close to Johannes.Johannes was still sighing in his sleep. I never knew how those two pictures came about, whether Potter went to the farm, met Lisa, the little girl and York, took the picture himself, or Stan and Lisa or someone else Photo, send to Porter.I still ran into Potter occasionally, but I never had the chance to ask him that question. I just nodded and smiled to express my gratitude for his hard work on my behalf.However, judging from the season in the photo, and the fact that the little girl is much older than before, it appears that the photo was taken recently.All I need to know is enough.