Chapter 43 seven

From newspapers, radio, and television, it was early summer.National Days have been celebrated, first Norway's National Day, then Sweden's National Day, with flags flying, royal appearances, lively parades, and bands playing.The excitement surrounding these National Days is now gradually turning around Midsummer.The news, talk shows and documentaries have just finished dissecting whether the monarchy is alive or not, and why the Norwegians are always more enthusiastic about celebrating their National Day than the Swedes, and then start throwing out report after report and feature, discussing Strawberry prices, new varieties of potatoes, midsummer columns erected ready to dance around, national costumes different for each region, wooden horses from the province of Dalarna, islands in the archipelago, barn dances and huts painted red, Herring and aguavite, drunken parties and drunk driving.Apparently the outside world still follows these old traditions, but nothing is celebrated in the flat, no flags or midsummer columns to be seen, aguavite and herring are not on the menu, and strawberries are available in the flat all year round because of the large arcade It is grown in our greenhouse, and I have never heard of new varieties of potatoes.Personally, I always think that new varieties of potatoes taste like they are underripe and not tasty at all.

[Note] Midsummer Pole (Midsummer Pole), wooden poles will be erected and decorated in many parts of Europe to celebrate Midsummer Festival. It was time for the monthly orientation party again, and this time I decided to attend, trying to look more feminine, but none of my dresses fit, so I had to wear trousers, a shirt and a jacket instead.I gained weight all over and even had a double chin.If people don't know me, don't know my situation, and they don't expect to meet a pregnant unwanted individual, at most they will think that I am fat.That's the best way, I don't want to offend the new recruits at all, and I don't want to cause any discomfort or consternation.Not tonight.Tonight I want to have fun, I want to dance and meet new people.

I combed my hair, stood in front of the mirror and looked at my front and side, put my hands in my pockets, the stone with the fossil embedded in the left pocket, and the key card in the right pocket.I straightened up and thought I looked strong, and it was easy to see why people always believed me to be strong, because I looked so strong and authoritative. This evening's menu includes apple cauliflower salad with yogurt sauce, butterfly salmon with grilled fish and fried vegetables on a skewer, and chocolate and orange cream with mozzarella and crumbled biscuits for dessert.I sat at the same table with Mattes, Fifi, and newcomer Miranda.Miranda, the carver, was as silent as most of the new recruits, poking at the food unhappily.I decided I had to talk to her at the party to put her in a better mood.We chatted, chatted during the meal, and chatted at the bar later, and tried various special drinks with small umbrellas together.

The orchestra has not yet started to play, the speakers are playing rhythmic slow songs at a low volume, and the music is circling in the space.Miranda told me about her work. She used clay to make large and small statues. The largest was as big as a person, and the smallest was only the size of a thimble worn on her hand when she was a tailor. She sculpted distorted human bodies in various poses.According to her, she has no resistance to distorting the human body, and can see a great deal of beauty in the crooked, grotesque, and scarred. In suffering, she said: Even in pure physical pain, there is a beauty.Does this sound crazy?Like I'm crazy?

Uh I said: maybe a little.But I think the artist's eyes will not judge and analyze, but only observe, and they should more or less see the existence of beauty in any form or expression. Oh, how good it is to speak to someone who can understand!Miranda said: "That's really it, it's not my personal judgment.I don't think it's cool to be deformed or suffering or in pain, it just happens to be beautiful. There’s something about Miranda that reminds me of Megan. She’s like a darker version of Megan. You could say she’s just like Megan, just a different side of Megan.I told her about Megan's painting of a deformed fetus that hung above the table in my house.

I really want to see that painting.Miranda said.I told her where I lived and she was welcome anytime. As soon as I finished speaking, the rock band stepped onto the stage.I only heard two or three beats of the prelude, and I knew it was a ballad, dedicated to my girl (For My Girl).Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a person coming from the side, walking confidently, with a straight back, soft and flexible, shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing muscular forearms, a vicissitudes of life and a healthy face, with a thick-skinned but shy expression on his face. The smile, the bright eyes, those playful eyes that are looking for my gaze, at least it seems to me.As he approached, I slowly turned my head to face him, ready to hear him say: Dolly, you look so beautiful tonight.Then bow to me and kiss my hand.

The man was of course someone else, someone I had never seen before, he didn't stop, but just passed me and nodded politely. Miranda said something to me, but I didn't hear it, and the music was very loud.I was about to ask her to say it again when all of a sudden I felt a movement in my abdomen, probably reaching out or kicking.I naturally reached out and pressed my abdomen.Another hit, pressed against my hand, very clearly, as if we were both high fives, and I wanted to tell someone.No, not someone, I want to tell Johannes, I want to tell Johannes and no one else, I want to tell him I just high fived our baby, I want to take his hand and put it on my belly , feel the temperature of his palm, let him feel the baby's activities, let him say hello to the baby.

I saw Miranda talking something else, right next to me, standing a little closer to me.She looks worried, I thought, but I still can't hear what she's saying.Suddenly I don't know how to speak.I must have looked like an idiot, staring at her with blank eyes, as if I suddenly couldn't recognize who she was.The baby seemed to be pressing on my bladder, making me suddenly want to go to the toilet.I came back to my senses, smiled apologetically at Miranda, and said: Sorry, what are you talking about? Are you uncomfortable?She almost growled. I'm fine, it's just because of this song, this past memory, you know.

She nodded. do you want to danceshe asked. Okay, but I have to go to the toilet first, I replied: I am in a hurry.I'll be back soon! I pushed past the crowded carnival crowd, including residents and staff, many faces I knew very well, many faces seemed familiar, and only a few faces were completely unfamiliar.I say hello, nod, wave left and right, and soon I'm at the restroom at the other end of the ballroom, where there's a row of doors and people come and go.Voices boomed, someone laughed, someone yelled, and the vibrations of the music came in waves from the main hall: This song is for my girl, for my woman, for my world.Baby, baby, this song is for you

That's when the baby is supposed to move his foot off my bladder or his hip or head or elbow because the pressure is gone and all of a sudden I don't have the urge to pee again and I don't have to go to the bathroom.Maybe that's why I noticed three extra doors at the end, without the toilet symbol on them.The three doors were relatively small and looked more like decorations, fake doors rather than real ones, with no signs or handles.I was walking up and down the row of toilet doors, looking like I was in a hurry to go to the bathroom, and when I got very close to the three doors, I saw a metal frame on the door frame with a slit in the middle.

I didn't even think about it, as if switching to autopilot mode, I made movements like a robot, took out the key card from my pocket, and swiped through the slit, acting casually.A small gap immediately slid open on the door frame, revealing the keyboard, no larger than a mobile phone.I went into what might be called a panic trance, typed 9844, pushed open the door, stepped over the threshold, got to the other side of the door, and before I could see where I was, I grabbed the other side doorknob, shut the door tightly. The other side of the door was very bright, and I was bathed in white, harsh fluorescent lights. The surroundings were very quiet, and my heartbeat sounded like thunder that was playing repeatedly, and it was playing at a high speed.It took a while, I don't know how long it was, maybe seconds or minutes, before my vision resumed functioning in the cold light.When I regained my sight, I saw myself standing on the landing in the stairwell exactly as the man I called the birthmark nurse had described.That's when the feeling of panic hit me, running and running through my body, rushing through my veins and arteries, whizzing through me. Upstairs or downstairs?My head was racing like crazy, and I shrugged and ran upstairs.The banquet hall is located on the K1 floor, so it should be located below the first floor.I climbed a few floors before I remembered that the operating room lounge had a window facing the outside world, but that was called the basement. So I ran down instead, two floors, three floors, and half a floor down until I came to a door, which was a solid metal door.This time, the credit card machine is not hidden in the door frame, but is generously installed on the wall next to it, and it also has a keyboard, just like the keyboard in the store for customers to key in the deduction password. My hands were not only shaking, but also sweating.I swipe my card and my hands hover over the keyboard, ready to type.Oh, not good!That set of passwords seemed to be deleted from my memory.OK, I remembered, I typed 9488.There was no movement, there was no click, I pressed the handle, but the door was locked. I tried again: 9948 wrong. Or four eight nine nine?wrong. These groups of numbers are all weird, they seem to be right, but they also seem to be wrong.I was shaking and sweating profusely, my lips were dry, I was almost crying, I was in hysterics, I felt like my whole head was spinning.That's when the innocuous chorus popped out of my head and stopped my head from spinning: This song is for my girl, for my woman, for my world.Baby, baby, this song is for you Suddenly I regained my composure, my mind became clear, and I typed 9844 firmly.The door clicked obediently. I pressed the handle, pushed open the heavy metal door, took two steps, and walked out the door.The metal door closed behind me. I'm out, I'm outside.The first thing I noticed was the breeze blowing around my body.I feel the breeze on my cheeks, in my hair, and it lifts up and flies around.I feel the breeze blowing through my baggy trouser legs and slapping my calves.It was almost pitch black outside, the sun withdrew its light from the sky, and the dark sky was full of stars, spreading towards the other end of the sky where there was still a slender light.It wasn't cold outside, but it was cool; it was a chilly night. I stood outside the door for a while, watching the wind stretch out its invisible fingers and pluck the leaves so that the lilac bushes bowed and the birches rustled and rustled.I was in a park with grass and gravel paths.A small path leads to the left, rounding the corner of the building.From me, it was just pitch black beyond the corner.Not far in front of me to the right, I could see a pond among the bushes. Behind the pond stood many tall trees, with huge crowns swaying in the wind. That pond is the one I saw through the lounge window in February.My first thought was to run to the pond and hide among the bushes and trees.But it immediately occurred to me that if there were surveillance cameras outside, and that was a high probability, then I might attract attention if I ran.The action would look suspicious: why would the worker run away from the workplace and hide in a bush?No, I thought, I'd be a fool to do that, and the only reasonable course of action was to follow the trail and turn the corner.So I walked around the corner. The crunch of gravel under my feet was deafening to my ears.I expected that at any moment there might be a sound of running behind me, that I would be escorted back by a few strong guards, or that a patrol was waiting around the corner.But no one came running, and no patrols were waiting ahead.I turned the corner, and what I saw was a romantic thin twilight mixed with evening twilight and darkness, punctuated by the light of street lamps.The path ran through a meadow to a low white wooden fence with a door that stood open.I walked about twenty yards to the fence.The fence was low, no higher than my knees, which seemed absurd since there was no need for a fence.But the path led to the gate, so I went through the gate anyway, and found myself at last on a road lit by lights fifty yards or so on either side. Across the road were rolling fields and groves with a few farms and houses in between, lit like lanterns in an evening ocean over which a pink-gold sun still glowed.So I was sure it was west, or probably northwest, because it was about midsummer, or in other words, the road probably ran north-south.I hesitated for a while and chose to go north. I moved out of the range of the street lamps, and the golden twilight in the northwest turned to a pale gray light.I was surrounded by darkness and the coolness of the night, and every step I took felt like I was walking into a complete void.I wasn't afraid, nor did I feel creepy, and I was very sure.Since I couldn't see the ground ahead, I looked up.The sky overhead was so clear that even the distant stars could be seen clearly.Some stars are so far away that they are never named and never appear on constellation maps.The whole sky was covered with stars.Among the nearer ones among the tens of billions of nameless stars was the constellation Ursa Minor, the constellation Johannes had taught me to find.Then there is the Big Dipper. Draw a straight line along the two stars at the end of the Big Dipper, and you will find the bright North Star.