After six months, you will return to Nanjingju. No one knows that you have been away for so long, and Grace won’t tell them. She promised that she would try her best to urge them to "let them think about this problem in their spare time".
When you were suspended from your home, the image of Grace often appeared in your mind. A tall and dignified black woman wore a white experimental head, a triangle, a military hat, a sword and a straight arm. The bow of a rowing boat was crossing a strategically important river. How would she feel when she needed to take off her hat, give up the rowing boat and return control to you?
After seeing a doctor or shopping for dinner, you always have a gloomy idea. Which world do I live in? In one world, you hear the screams of Viterbi’s first exploration team in the lighthouse echoing each other. In another world, is it possible for you to put canned soup in the cupboard at the same time? Is that what you want? When Grace called and asked if you should say "as usual" or "terrible, just like dissecting the body over and over again"?
Sit in the bar of Yue Planet Pavilion-this habit hasn’t changed since you came back, has it? Even more frequently, because when you have more time, the real estate agent often talks-visiting relatives in the north, watching a movie, politics, and sometimes the veteran tries to talk with him forever, which is remembered by his children a long time ago.
The words of real estate agents and drunkards pass by you and pass through your body. You keep nodding as if you understand what they say, as if you agree with it. In fact, you see two ghosts of lighthouse keepers saying the same thing to two different people at the same time, one in your darkness and the other in your light.
"You thought of your own child, didn’t you?" The real estate agent said, "I can see that."
You must be absent-minded. Your mask has obviously slipped off.
"You’re right." You said, "Of course."
You have another glass of beer and tell the real estate agent about your children-they learn from you how much you want to see them often, but they study for a doctor. You want to see them during the holiday, and when they grow up, they look over the real estate agent at the end of the bar and stare at you. His face is very strange, as if he recognized something, as if it were your intention.
Hell, maybe you should play some songs on the jukebox, drink a little more beer, maybe you can sing a round of karaoke and make up some details of your life, but the real estate agent left you and the veterans, and then a few people came in one after another. You never knew them. The floor was sticky and covered with dark old stains. The bottles behind the bar were covered with drinking cups to prevent fruit flies from flying into the bar. There was an unnatural halo on the desktop. The fairway behind you was dim and the overhead star reappeared, just like the miracle of the ceiling. Some parts of it took a while to recognize it.
Because the other world always penetrates into the immediate world, because you and Victor, for example, keep a secret, you know that things in the lighthouse will eventually leak out in some form, which will have a certain impact.
Viterbi wandered around your ground floor in the lighthouse when he suddenly realized that he couldn’t be heard in the next room. The sound of walking was quiet and the dust came through the broken door. The light was dim and gloomy. You could find him in the corner and see his pale figure in the dark.
But soon you find that he has climbed the lighthouse stairs to the top of the tower to fight and the sound of wood cracking overlap. It is strange that they are very similar, but how can there be a second sound? Therefore, in the process of climbing the stairs, you have a sense of familiarity, but it seems different in the past. Because the steps are wider and the stairs are longer in memory, there is a light feeling in the lighthouse. The wall was once painted white, and you can see the sky outside the window and smell Saul mowing the grass. But now you are worried about Viterbi in the dark that you have become a giant or the lighthouse has shrunk. This is not the time, but it actively shrinks, as if spiral shell fossils lead you to a place that is no longer familiar, with every step to erase everything you knew.
At the top of the tower, you find Viterbi’s duty room panting like an animal, with torn clothes and blood on your hands. You still have a strange feeling, as if the edge of that pile of diaries were rolling up and down to wrap Viterbi and drown him. No one else here has Viterbi’s story. It’s unbelievable. He said that the stair landing met his own doppelganger and the fake Viterbi followed him all the way to the lamp room, and then they fell into the trap door and tumbled awkwardly to that pile of diaries. The diaries gave off a smell of truth and falsehood, and Viterbi was fighting with each other there. The light
What if there are two Viterbi instead of one? What if Viterbi didn’t kick himself, beat himself and bit himself, but fought with another Viterbi? Legal theory of his wound
However, during the six-month vacation, even cutting onions and peppers in the kitchen or mowing the lawn will make you curious to remember this scene.
Sometimes you imagine that you arrived at the top of the stairs not afterwards, but one step early. Looking down at the scene and watching the two Viterbi struggling, you may believe that Viterbi gave birth to Viterbi’s own characteristics in the process of exploring the area, which caused this vision. Viterbi tried to completely destroy the other self.
Finally, a pair of pale hands stuck in a pale throat, two faces staring at each other several inches apart, the one twisted with sudden anger, and the one still so calm. The white paper diary is surrounded by tears and wrinkles, and the red line on the page is drawn, and the blue line on the page can be written. Some of the words are hard to recognize. All the journals have no names, occupations and sometimes even occupations. It’s like sneaking in an area to record whether they move and fluctuate, as if there is something at the bottom of the bed while breathing.
Is there a flashing halo around them? Or around Viterbi? Around two Viterbi?
Finally, where did you click your neck? Spine? Viterbi, who was crushed by the pile of paper, collapsed and his head tilted to one side. Viterbi gave a depressed sob and slipped from the dead Viterbi body, writhing awkwardly and struggling to break free … and then sat in the corner and stared at his body.
Only at this moment do you think about whether your Viterbi won or not-who is the other Viterbi who died? Viterbi seems to be incredibly calm, with a smooth face and no wrinkles, and wide eyes. You can only see the signs of violence from the angle of body skew.
Later, you forced Viterbi to come out from there to breathe fresh air by the railing and look at the beautiful and strange scenery around him. You pointed out the places you used to go to and pretended that this knowledge came from studying the forgotten coastal surface. Viterbi talked to you in an urgent tone, but you didn’t pay attention to it. You were more focused on your own description and explanation to fill the gap. In order to appease Viterbi, instead of eliminating the influence of the previous experience on him, you forgot a lot of logs. You don’t want to think about it and expel it from your brain, because isn’t it normal? Ignore the unrealistic thing, it becomes reality.
When you were building, you tried to search for dead Viterbi, but you still couldn’t find it.
You may never know the truth.
However, there is a backpack that Viterbi swears belongs to the dead Viterbi. You found two interesting things in your bag, a strange plant and a broken mobile phone.
1 main pipe
When the manager woke up, he was lying on his side with a quilt bottom. Only six inches away from him, there was a boot and a boot with old military soles. It seemed that there were black spikes on the soles of the boots in the hills, which increased friction. Dry soil and sand gathered spikes. Along the longitudinal axis of the sole, there was a dragonfly wing that was ground into a smooth shape, and the fragments flashed green and shimmered. The sides of the boots were stained with grass stains and dried kelp.
He found that despite the lack of maintenance in the wild environment, the materials here were neatly stacked, and the leaves and garbage on the stairs and platforms were often cleaned. There was a muscular foot next to the boots, which seemed to belong to another person. The soles of the feet were light brown, and the big toes were tightly wrapped with a new bag to remove the gauze, and a little dry blood oozed from the bottom.
Boots and feet belong to Grace Stevenson.
Over the instep, he saw her holding three worn-out pieces of paper, which he rescued from Viterbi’s report. Grace was wearing military camouflage, including a short-sleeved shirt. In this dress, she looked thinner than before, and her temples were gray. It seemed that she had experienced many things for a short time. She had a backpack and a holster with a pistol in it.
He rolled over on his back and sat up against the wall diagonally opposite to her. The noisy birds woke him up briefly when he was separated by the window, but now he is quiet. Maybe he went out for food or something else. Could it be noon? The ghost bird curled up in a camouflage sleeping bag and kept twitching and sobbing all night, reminding the manager of his cat’s reaction when he dreamed.
"Damn it, why did you search my pocket?" He found that his father’s sculpture was still in his coat, and the tone of accusation softened.
She ignored it and continued to look at Viterbi’s words, smiling and frowning, full of tension but difficult to decide. "This is no different from what I saw last time. It’s probably … even more ridiculous, but at that time, someone was crazy and now we are all fucking crazy."
"Fuck?"
She showed a sarcastic expression. "What’s wrong with his mother? The region is not rooted in me. "
She continued to read those pages over and over again, shaking her head when she saw some paragraphs. The manager stared at her and still couldn’t give up these pages. He felt more affection for them than he thought, and he was worried that she would crumple them up and throw them out of the window.
"Can I have these papers back?"
She smiled wearily as if to say that he was too easy to see through. "No, not yet. Have some breakfast first and then hand in the formal application." She went on reading.
He looked around in dismay, just like his first impression. It was as clean as paranoia. There was a row of rifles lined up neatly against the wall next to her. Her girlfriend’s photo support was wrinkled as big as her wallet. The rolled-up edge was flattened again. Canned food and protein bars were wider. The water in the cups and bottles on the side wall must have been drawn by her from streams or wells. Did she take these from the Nanjingju building or found them in the ruins of the ambush convoy along the coast? He didn’t want to guess what he found on her island.
As soon as the manager was about to get up to get a can, she scattered the pages on their floor, which happened to be wet because of the accumulation of rain.
"Damn it," he crawled on all fours to pick it up.
Grace, the gun was held against the side of his head, right next to his ear.
He didn’t budge from look at where Grace was sleeping.
"Are you real?" She asked if her voice was hoarse as her hair turned gray, and her voice became darker. Can he see more important clues from her boots and toes wrapped in gauze?
"Grace, I-"
She hit him on the forehead with the barrel of a gun, and then the muzzle pressed harder against his skin. She whispered in his ear, "Don’t fucking forbid my name! If you can’t name it, it may still know the name. "
"What knows its name?" He held back the words grace.
"Aren’t you white?" Tone disdain
"Put the gun down"
"no"
"Can I sit up?"
"No, are you serious?"
"I don’t know what you mean," he said as calmly as possible, wondering whether he could quickly dodge and push the gun before she blew his head off.
"I think you should be tampered with or polluted for nothing."
"I’m as real as you are," he said, but he was afraid to say the fear hidden in his heart. He didn’t know what Grace had experienced since the last meeting. He was not sure whether he still knew her or not.
"Who did you escape from? Headquarters or that L?"
“L？” Fantastic idea. What l? Then he realized that she meant Lori. "I didn’t get rid of hypnosis, suggesting that I liberated myself." He didn’t believe it himself.
"Let’s test one?"