Chapter 2 Different routes lead to the same goal

In the middle of life, two roads appeared, I heard the wise man say, I set foot on the road less traveled by, So every day and night are different. Larry.Norman (Annotation: Larry Norman (1947︱2008), a well-known American Christian musician, singer, record producer, has the reputation of the father of Christian rock music.) (to Robert Frost (Annotation: Robert Frost (1874 ︱1963), an American poet who has won the Pulitzer Prize four times. Here the singer Larry Norman is familiar with Frost's original poem "The Road Not Taken".) Apologies) After an unseasonably dry winter, a downpour broke out in March.The cold front coming from Canada was held up by a whirlwind rushing down the canyon from eastern Oregon.Although the footsteps of spring are not far away, Winter God does not intend to easily release the hard-to-get ruling power.A fresh blanket of snow on the Cascades, and the rain falling on the freezing ground and freezing outside, were enough for McCann to snuggle up by the crackling fire, drinking hot apple cider with a book.

Instead, he spends the good mornings working from a computer remotely connected to the city.Sitting comfortably in his home office in pajama pants and a T-shirt, he made a few sales calls, mostly to the East Coast.He paused for a moment now and then to listen to the crisp sound of crystal raindrops on the windows, and to watch the ice that had frozen outside slowly and steadily thicken and cover everything.He gradually becomes a tortured ice prisoner trapped in his own home and he enjoys it. The storm that breaks the routine has its fun, too.Snow or icy rain momentarily releases a person from the tyranny of expectations, job demands, and commitments and schedules.And unlike illness, this is mostly a shared experience rather than an individual one.A chorus of sighs can almost be heard in the nearby cities and surrounding countryside, where nature intervenes, as far as she can, to give breathing space to weary competing humans.The masses affected by this are united by a common excuse, and their mood suddenly and unexpectedly becomes a little light.There is no need to apologize for not being able to appear on a previously agreed occasion.Everyone understands and shares the same justification, and the sudden relief from the stress of production brings joy to the heart.

Of course, it is also true that the storm disrupted business, and while a few companies made small profits, some also suffered losses, indicating that some people are not happy to see everything temporarily shut down.But they also can't blame anyone for their loss of productivity or access to the office.Even if it's only for a day or two at most, everyone seems to be the master of their own world unconsciously, just because those little raindrops hit the ground and freeze into ice. Even mundane events can become extraordinarily special.Routine choices become risks, and a heightened sense of clarity is often experienced.Towards evening, McCann went out wrapped in heavy clothes and struggled to walk nearly a hundred yards of the long driveway to get the letter from the mailbox.Snow has magically transformed this simple daily task into a foray into inclement weather: he raises his clenched fist against the brute force of nature, mocking nature in his face with such defiance.He didn't care that no one noticed or cared about such things, and the very thought made him chuckle.

Frozen rain stings his cheeks and hands as he walks cautiously up and down the slightly undulating drive.He looked, he thought, like a drunk sailor on his way to the next bar.man facing the storm When the strength is too high, it is impossible to take a step forward with confidence.A strong wind can beat a man.McCann had to crouch twice before finally hugging the mailbox like a lost friend. He paused for a moment, gazing at the crystal-engulfed beauty.Everything reflects light, helping to create a bright and glorious evening scene.The trees on the neighbor's field are all covered with translucent cloaks, each tree is unique, but they blend together under such a style.It was a brilliant world, and in an instant, albeit only for a few seconds, the blinding light almost removed the pain from McCann's shoulders.

It took him nearly a minute to pry open the ice that was tightly sealing the mailbox door.The reward for this effort was a letter with only his first name typed on it, no surname, no stamp, no postmark, and no sender's address.Out of curiosity, he opened one end of the envelope, but it was not an easy job because his fingers were already starting to freeze.He turned his back to the bitter cold wind, and finally drew the small, unfolded rectangle of letter paper out of the nest.Only a few words were typed on the above: McKinsey: I haven't heard from you for a while, and I miss you very much.

If you want to get together, I'll be at the cabin next weekend. father McCann froze as a sickening revulsion ran through him, then turned to anger.He deliberately tried not to think about the hut, but whenever he thought about it, his thoughts were not kind and pure.If this was someone's idea for a prank, he did succeed.And Signature Dad made everything worse. idiot!With a grunt, he thought of Tony the postman, overly friendly and big-hearted but not very bright.Why did he send this ridiculous letter?Not even a postage stamp!McCann was so angry that he stuffed the envelope and the note into his coat pocket, turned around and started sliding back to the house in a general direction.The fierce winds that had initially stymied him shortened the time it would take him to traverse the thickening mini-glaciers beneath his feet.

He's okay, thank you for your concern, but it's not good when the driveway slopes a little down to the left.He inadvertently began to pick up speed without any effort, the soles of the sliding shoes had almost no grip, like a duck landing on a frozen lake.He waved his hands wildly, hoping to maintain the unused balance.He found himself heading straight for the only big tree next to the driveway, which he had cut off the lower limbs of just a few months earlier.The half-bald tree in front of him couldn't wait to hug him, as if eager for a little revenge.He didn't have time to think about it, so he chose to get away in a cowardly way: he tried to make his feet slip and fell, and his feet would slip and fall anyway.It's better to have a sore butt than a painted face.

But the rush of adrenaline made him overreact, like in slow motion, and McCann watched his feet lift before his eyes, jerked aloft as if by a trap in the jungle.He fell hard, first on the back of his head, then slid quickly to the raised roots under the shimmering tree that looked down on him with a mixture of triumph and disgust, and a look of great disappointment. The world seemed to turn black in an instant.He lay blankly on the spot, staring at the sky, squinting his eyes so that the suddenly shaking ice and snow would quickly cool his reddened face.For a brief moment, everything seemed strangely warm and peaceful.His anger was crushed for a moment by the shock.Who is the idiot?He muttered to himself, hoping no one witnessed this.

The cold quickly crept into his coat and sweater, and McCann knew the icy rain melting and freezing beneath him would soon make him very sad.He moaned, feeling like an old man, and rolled over on his hands and knees.Only then did he see the bright red taxiing track extending from the starting point to the finishing point.As if because he suddenly realized that he was injured, a faint feeling of heavy impact began to climb to the back of his head.Instinct drove him to touch the source of that rumbling blow, and his hands were stained with blood. Rough ice and gravel dug into McCann's hands and knees, and he slid halfway to the drive's flat.After a lot of effort, he was finally able to stand up, and moved slowly and cautiously towards the house, walking humbly under the power of ice, snow and gravity.

As soon as he entered the house, McCann took off layers of coats one by one. His half-frozen fingers were like swollen sticks at the end of his arms, and he was not very dexterous.He decided to leave the blood-stained mess at the door, and reluctantly retreated to the bathroom to inspect the wound.The icy driveway won without a doubt.Blood oozes from the wound on the back of the head, around a few small pebbles still embedded in the scalp.What he dreaded happened, and the wound on the back of his head was swollen beyond belief, like a humpback whale breaking through the waves of his thinning hair.

McCann found bandaging himself a chore, holding a small mirror in his hand, trying to see the back of his head in the upside-down bathroom mirror.After a short period of frustration, he gave up because he couldn't get his hands in the right direction and wasn't sure which mirror was reflecting the illusion.He carefully touched the wet wound, and successfully picked out the largest pieces until the pain was too much to continue.He picked up the first-aid ointment, tried to stop the wound from bleeding, then found some gauze in the bathroom drawer, covered the back of his head, and tied it with a towel.Glancing in the mirror, he thought he looked a little like the rough sailor in Moby Dick.The thought made him laugh, then his face twitched with pain. He has to wait for Xiaona to come home safely before he can get decent medical care and marrying a nurse has this kind of benefit.In any case, he knew that the more pitiful he looked, the more sympathy he would get.Every grind usually has some compensation, as long as it looks brutal enough.He swallowed a few painkillers to ease the throbbing pain, then limped to the front entrance. McCann hadn't forgotten the note in the slightest.He rummaged through the blood-soaked piles of laundry, finally found it in his coat pocket, glanced at it, and went back to his office.He found the post office phone and dialed it.Sure enough, Anne, the postmaster who was dignified and kept everyone's secret, answered the phone.Hello, is Tony there? Ah, McCann, is that you?I recognize your voice.Of course she recognized it.Sorry, Tony isn't back yet.Actually, I spoke to him on the radio just now, and he's only halfway to the wildcat area, and he hasn't reached your place yet.Do you want me to ask him to call you, or leave a message for him? Oh hi, is that you, Anne?Although her Midwestern accent was instantly recognizable, he couldn't help but play dumb.Sorry, I was a little busy here just now, so I didn't hear what you said. she laughed.Come on, McCann.I know you hear very well.Don't try to play tricks on me, I'm not a three-year-old kid.If he comes back alive, what do you want me to tell him? Actually, you have already answered my question. There is no sound on the other end of the phone.Actually I don't remember you asking the question, what's the matter, McCann?Still smoking marijuana, or only smoking on Sunday mornings to get through Sunday services?She started laughing as soon as she finished, as if amused by her wonderful sense of humor. Come on, Anne, you know I'm a non-smoker who never does and never wants to.Of course Anne didn't know about it, but McCann didn't want to take the risk of letting her screw up the conversation for a day or two.Not for the first time, her sense of humor morphed into a story with gusto, which soon became fact.He could imagine adding his name to the church's prayer list.It's okay, I'll find Tony elsewhere, nothing important. Well, anyway, it's right to stay in a safe room.You don't even know, for an old man like you, he doesn't know where his sense of balance has gone in the past few years.I don't want to see you stumble in shame.Depending on the situation, Tony may not be able to reach you at all.We've been able to deliver mail through snow, freezing rain, and pitch-black nights, but this freezing rain is sure to be a challenge. Thanks Annie, I'll try to remember your advice.Let's talk again.goodbye.His headache got worse, as if small hammers were hitting his head with the rhythm of his heartbeat.That's weird, he thought, who would have the guts to put something like that in our mailbox?The painkillers had not yet taken their full effect, but they were enough to dampen his budding worries; he was suddenly weary.He put his head on the desk, thinking that he had just fallen asleep when the phone woke him up. uh hello? Hi hubby.You sound like you just fell asleep?It was Cortana, and although he felt he could hear the underlying sadness underlying every conversation, her voice sounded surprisingly cheerful.She liked the weather as much as he usually did.He turned on the desk lamp, glanced at the clock, and suddenly found that he had fallen asleep for two hours. uh, sorry.I may have accidentally fallen asleep. Oh, you sound a little sleepy.Are you okay? fine.Although it was almost dark outside, McCann could tell the storm hadn't abated, and even a few inches of snow and ice had fallen.The branches hung low, and he knew some would break under the weight, especially when the wind was blowing. I struggled a bit in the driveway when I went to get the letter, but other than that, all was well.where are you I'm still here with Arlene, and I think the kids and I will spend the night here tonight.Being with family must be good for Kate and she seems to have regained some balance.Yalin is Cortana's younger sister who lives across the river in Washington State.Anyway, the road is too slippery, it is too dangerous to go out.Hopefully the rain will stop tomorrow morning.Wish I got home before the weather got this bad, but never mind.She paused for a moment.How is it near home? Oh, it's so beautiful that you can't take your eyes off it, and it's much safer to look at than to walk.Believe me, I won't say anything. You have to find a way to get back in this mess.Can't move at all.I don't even think it's possible for Tony to deliver our letter. I thought you got the letter already?she questioned. No, I didn't actually get the letter.I thought Tony had come, so I went out to get it.As a result, he hesitated, staring down at the note on the desk before.No letter at all.I called Annie, and she said Tony probably won't be able to go up the mountains, and I don't want to go out to see if he's coming. Regardless, he quickly changed the subject so as not to cause further questions.Is Kate okay there? There was a pause on the other end of the phone, followed by a long sigh.When Xiaona spoke, she lowered her voice very low, and he could hear her talking with her mouth covered on the other end.McCann, if only I knew.Talking to her was like talking to a rock, no matter what I did I couldn't penetrate, and with family around she seemed to come out of her shell a little bit and then disappear again.I really don't know what to do.I kept praying and praying, hoping that Dad would help us find a way to reach her, but she paused again, feeling like He wasn't listening. That's it.Xiaona likes to call God Daddy most, which expresses the joy brought by her close friendship with God. Wife, I trust God knows what I'm doing.Everything will work out.The words were not at all consoling to him, but he hoped they would assuage the worry he heard in her voice. I know, she sighs.I just wish he would be quicker. Me too.That's all McCann can say.Then you and the children don't run around, pay attention to safety.Say hello to Arleen and Jimmy for me and thank them for me too.Hope to see you tomorrow. Well, hubby, it's time for me to help.Everyone was busy looking for candles to avoid a power outage.You should probably look for it too.There are several over the sink in the basement.There's leftover bread in the fridge, so you can warm it up.Are you sure you can? Okay, my ego has been seriously hurt again. Well, don't take it seriously!Hope we can meet tomorrow. All right, wife.Be safe and call me if you need anything.goodbye. He thought as he hung up the phone: It's kind of stupid to say that.Kind of like the stupid things men would say, like if they needed something, he could really help. McCann sat staring at the note.Confused and miserable, he tried to make sense of the whirlpool of harsh, disturbing emotions and dark images that clouded his mind, a million thoughts whizzing by at a million miles an hour at the same time.At last he gave up, folded the note, stuffed it into the little tin box on the desk, and turned off the light. McCann managed to find something to eat, warmed it up in the microwave, then grabbed two blankets and pillows and headed for the living room.He glanced at the clock quickly and learned that Bill.Moyer's program has just begun.It was his favorite show, and he tried not to miss an episode.Moyer is one of the few people McCann is happy to know about the deity.He was intelligent and outspoken, able to express a deep compassion for people and truth with extraordinary clarity.One of the topics tonight has to do with oil tycoon Pickens, who has started drilling for water. McCann stared intently at the TV, and almost without thinking, he reached to the other end of the table, picked up a framed picture of a little girl, and pressed it to his chest.With the other hand he pulled the blanket up to his chin, sinking deeper into the couch. Soon the sound of light snoring filled the room, and the television screens had turned their attention to a Zimbabwean high school senior who had been beaten for speaking out against the government.But McCann had left the living room to wrestle with his dreams.Maybe there will be no nightmares tonight, maybe just visions of ice and trees and gravity.