Chapter 3 Chick wants to end it all

The letter from my daughter arrived on Friday, which led me to a weekend of drinking, but I can't remember how.I took a long cold shower on Monday morning, but I was still two hours late when I got into work.I walked into the office and couldn't hold on after sitting for forty-five minutes.I have a splitting headache.This place is like a tomb.I slipped into the copy room, then walked to the bathroom, then to the elevator.I didn't bring a coat or a briefcase so that, in case anyone noticed my movements, I looked normal and didn't make an effort to leave. It is stupid to do so.Nobody cares.It was a large company with several salesmen, and it could survive without me; we now know that the walk from the elevator to the parking lot was the last scene of my employee's life.

Then, I called my ex-wife.I use a public phone.She is at work. Why?I asked her after she answered the phone. Is it Chick? Why?I say it again.My anger had been building up for three days, and it was overflowing like a bubble, but all I could say was: why? Chick.Her tone softened. Can't you even invite me? This is what they mean.they think so How is this?Is this safer?Do they think I'm going to do something? I have no idea I became a monster?is that so? Where are you? Am I a monster? do not talk. I gotta go. Listen to me, Chick.She's not a child anymore, if Can't you stand up and say something for me?

sorry.it's complicated.There is also his family to consider.them You have a boyfriend now? Oh Chick I'm at work, please? At this moment, I feel lonely.The loneliness I have never felt before, seems to be crouching in my lungs, crushing everything, leaving only a thin trace of breath.I have nothing to say.Nothing to say about this.There is nothing left to say about anything. It doesn't matter.I whispered: I'm sorry. She was silent for a while. where are you going?she says. I hang up. Then I got drunk; drunk for the last time.I went first to a place called Mr. Ted's Tavern, where the bartender was a thin young fellow with a round face, probably no older than the guy my daughter married.Later, I went back to my place and drank some more.I turned the furniture upside down.I scribbled on the wall.I think I'm afraid I just threw those two wedding photos in the trash.At some point in the middle of the night, I decided to go home, which meant going back to Pipeville Beach, where I grew up.It's a two hour drive to Pipeville Beach, but I haven't been back in years.I circled the apartment, hesitating, as if preparing to hit the road.A farewell tour doesn't require much preparation.I went into the bedroom, opened a drawer, and took out a pistol.

I staggered into the garage, found my car, put the gun in the under-dash storage compartment, threw another jacket in the backseat, or maybe the front seat, maybe it was in the car, I have no idea.I drove the car onto the road and the tires screeched across the road.The city is quiet, the streetlights are yellow, and I'm going to end my life where it began. Stumbling back to God.It's that simple. □□□ we are proud to announce Charles.alexander was born Weighing eight pounds and eleven ounces Born on November 21, 1949 Leno and Pauline.Sincerely, Bernato (A card left by Chick Bernato)

(Annotation: Westerners will send cards with the newborn's birthday, weight and height to relatives and friends after the newborn is born.) It was a cold night with light rain, but the highway was deserted.I used all four-lane lanes, snaking around at will.You'd think, you'd hope, that a drunk driver like me would get pulled over by the police.but none.At one point, I even slid over to a 24-hour convenience store and bought a half-pack of beer from an Asian man with a wispy mustache. Want to buy lotto tickets?he asks. Over the years, I've learned to maintain a semblance of functioning when I'm crushed. A walking alcoholic. Now, I pretend to think about it.

Don't buy it this time.I said. He put the beer in the bag.I saw his gaze, two dull black eyes.I said to myself: this is the last face I'll see on earth. He pushed the change towards me from the counter. When I saw a sign showing my hometown was near, Pipeville Beach, 1 mile from the exit, two cans of beer were down again, and another was spilled all over the right front seat.The wipers slammed and I tried to stay awake.I must have been in a trance thinking about the 1 mile to the exit, because it wasn't long until I saw signs for another town that I missed the exit ramp.I slapped the dashboard hard.I turned the car around, and there I was, going the wrong way right in the middle of the freeway.There are not many cars coming and going, even if there are more cars, I don't care about anything anyway.I headed for the home exit and stomped on the gas.Soon, a slope came into view. This is the on-ramp of the expressway, not the off-ramp of the expressway. My car made a sharp sound and rushed towards this ramp.The road was long and curvy, I locked the steering wheel at the turn angle and went forward quickly, turning along the road.

Suddenly, two big sun-like lamps shone in my eyes, making me unable to see anything.Then, the truck's horn blared, and there was a violent jolt.My car flew over the roadside embankment, landed hard, and fell down the hillside.Glass shards everywhere, beer cans banging back and forth.I grabbed the steering wheel desperately, and the car was jerked backwards with a force that knocked me out of the driver's seat.I groped for the handle of the open door and tugged at it.All I remember is that the black sky and green weeds flashed before my eyes, and I also heard a sound like thunder, and a solid object hit something from a high place and fell to the ground.

I opened my eyes and found myself lying in the wet grass.Half of my car was buried under a crooked advertising stand.This billboard, put up by a local Chevrolet dealership, must have been wrecked by my car.I must have been thrown out of the car before it hit the billboard.This is an unreasonable situation in terms of physics, and I cannot explain it.When you want to seek death, God will protect your life instead.Can anyone explain what's going on here? I tried my best to stand up slowly.My back was soaked and my whole body ached.It was still raining lightly, but the surroundings were quiet except for the chirping of crickets.Normally, at such moments, you would say: I'm glad I saved my life.But I can't say that because I'm not happy.I looked up the highway, and through the fog I could just make out the outline of the truck, a huge, hulking shipwreck, its nose twisted as if its neck had been snapped off.Smoke billowed from the hood.One headlight was still on, casting a solitary beam of light down the muddy hillside, making shards of glass sparkle like diamonds.

Where is the driver?still alive?Are you hurt?Is it bleeding?Still breathing?If you are brave enough, of course you should climb up to have a look, but at the moment bravery is not my strong point. Therefore, I did not go to check. Instead of stepping forward to check, I put my hands at my sides and turned south, heading towards my hometown.It's not an honorable thing to do, but I was not at all rational at the time.I'm walking dead, like a robot, with absolutely no thought for anyone else, or myself. In fact, the last thing I care about is myself.I forgot my car, I forgot the truck, and I forgot the gun.I leave them behind.My shoes crunched on the gravel, and I heard the cricket laugh.

I don't know how long I walked.In short, I walked for a long time until the rain stopped and the first twilight of dawn appeared in the sky.I came to the outskirts of Pipewell Beach, where there was a landmark, a large rusty water tower behind a baseball field.In a small town like the one I grew up in, climbing the water tower was a rite of passage.My fellow baseball players and I used to climb up this water tower with a can of spray paint in our waistband on weekends. Now I'm standing in front of the water tower again, drenched, old, frustrated, drunk, I should add, I might be a murderer, or I should say I suspect I am, because I don't Didn't see the truck driver.It doesn't matter, because I'm going to do something that I decided without using my brain; I'm determined to make tonight the last night of my life.

I groped my way to the bottom rung of the ladder. I started to climb. It took me a while to climb up the riveted cistern.After climbing to the top, I collapsed on the narrow passage, breathing hard, gasping for air.In the depths of my chaotic mind, there was a voice scolding me, how could I become so embarrassed. I look down into the woods.Behind the woods, I saw the field where I learned to play baseball with my father as a child.Seeing it now still brings back sad memories.You're so broken that you can't believe you were a child, but childhood never let you go.Why is childhood like this? The sky is getting brighter.The crickets chirped louder.A flashback flashes before my mind of my daughter Maria when she was very young, I had my arm around her, she slept on my chest, her skin smelled of prickly heat powder.And then I see myself, soaked and filthy, rushing into her wedding when the music breaks and everyone looks horrified, especially Maria. I hang my head. No one will miss me. I ran two steps, grabbed the railing, and threw my body down violently. What happened next, I can't explain.What I crashed into, and how I saved my life, I can't tell you.All I remember is twisting, snapping, slamming, bouncing, scraping, and finally landing with a thud.What are these scars on my face?I think that's how it came about.It seemed like a long time before I hit the ground. I opened my eyes, surrounded by broken branches.Many stones weighed on my stomach and chest.I lifted my chin and saw this: the field of my youth in the morning light, the dugouts on either side of the field, the pitcher's treads. I also saw my mother, my mother who had been dead for many years.