East Berlin's June Boat Song

Chapter 61 [III: Birch Forest] 61

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Snow, snow all over the sky.

In the early morning, the snow is covered with a dreamy lavender, the fir stands alone in the snow, and the distant fields are shrouded in hazy mist.The smoke from the roof was curling up, and soon after, a golden glow appeared in the east, and the golden light spread in the sky, illuminating the snow surface in orange red, generously giving a trace of inconspicuous temperature.

The sky gradually turned blue, we heard the larks singing loudly, the livestock came out of the farmhouse and walked awkwardly to the fields, there were a few low hills in the far distance, and a few snowy owls fluttered their wings and landed in the soft swamp, sending out a distant sound. Kong Ming.The snow on the fir forest shone finely in the sunlight, clear but not dazzling.

The farmhouse where we stayed is several very old row wooden buildings. This kind of houses are unique and are all made of wood. The logs are stacked to form a load-bearing wall. The shingles are sloped on both sides, very steep, and when there is too much snow, the snow will slide down in one piece.

It was a spectacular scene, like a small snow disaster, with a bang, I was startled when I saw it for the first time, and then laughed happily, Julian brought me I put on my beanie and put on the New Year's scarf that Sasha sent us a long time ago.

The fire in the Russian fireplace was burning brightly, the wood crackled and crackled, and the smell of turpentine filled the room.The house is very warm, and I can sit by the window and watch the snow all day long with a blanket on.

At that time, he asked me where I was going, but I couldn't think of it. A few words came to my mind, probably from those famous Russian books I had read before.

I said I wanted to see the snow in Siberia, and then I was going to St. Petersburg.

He pursed his lips and chuckled, saying that St. Petersburg was no longer called St. Petersburg, but Leningrad.If you want to see snow, he suggested to go to the countryside near Sertonov in the northwest of Leningrad first. He said that he had been there a long time ago. Even though it was devastated by the war, it still had a shocking beauty. snow scene.

According to him, I need to rest in the countryside for a while before I can get used to the noisy Leningrad.Because it's noisy, he said, it's a chattering city of all sorts of weirdos, it's been like that since ancient times, and the Neva is covered in a gray halo of all the weirdness and weirdness that comes from people getting drunk impulsive thoughts.Countless people threw themselves into the river, went mad by the river, and sang the sorrow and sorrow of the Russian nation in the gray-yellow river.

In his heart, this city is not the St. Petersburg described by Tolstoy and Pushkin, but the St. Petersburg described by Dostoevsky, depressed and dark, absurd and grotesque, crazy all day long, and endlessly noisy.

He kissed my earlobe and said softly, you won't be able to stand it.

Today is our third day in town, and he said he would stay here for a week.

I sat on the bed in front of the window, curled up my knees, propped my elbows on my knees, and stared blankly for hours.He hugged me from behind and asked me what I was thinking. I laughed and asked, "Do you remember the horse in Raskolnikov's dream in "Crime and Punishment" that was whipped to death by Mikolka?" the filly?"

His hands around my shoulders trembled, and he said softly, "I remember."

"He's just tired, the heavy wagon is too heavy for him. He's giving it his all and the wagon won't move an inch, and he's going to be pumped to death... Everyone's laughing, Only Raskolnikov can't laugh, he cries, others laugh at him and cry."

He didn't answer, his breath was as light as a feather in my ears, but with a heavy meaning.

There was always very little talk between us. I sat in front of the window watching the snow, and he occasionally handed me a cup of black tea or coffee, but he didn’t allow me to drink or smoke, because he said it was not conducive to the recovery of the injury.Every night we sleep together and he hugs me from behind but does nothing.Probably the most intimate action is to kiss my neck.He always loves to kiss my scars, which used to make me excited, but now makes me horrified.

My artery, I almost cut myself not too long ago.It's really strange to think about it now, if the Spree River is also shrouded in a halo, it probably has a large part of my contribution.

Over time, silence became a mode of getting along between us. I watched the snow, and he sat aside to watch the snow with me.When Alyosha, who was in charge of security work along the way, sent official business, he would handle official business on the desk in the living room.The bedroom is connected to the living room, and you can see him working at his desk when you turn your head. If you count from 44 years ago, we have known each other for 12 years.

12 years, six years of parting, six years of deception.

I looked at him and burst out laughing suddenly, he looked up with some doubts and met my gaze.

"You used to like looking at me so much." His voice was soft, and there was a little coquettishness in his eyes.I didn't answer, just looked at him.

He put down his pen, closed the file, and walked over to me, taking the blanket and draping it over me.

"Look, here is a lone gray goose." He pointed to the wooden house with piles of firewood in front of the fir forest outside the window and said, "It forgot to follow its friends to the south, and it almost died of freezing here. It is kept in a wood house. Sometimes it is disobedient and always wants to run out, eager to return to the blue sky, but the temperature in Siberia will freeze it."

"So it has to wait patiently, waiting for the arrival of spring. At that time, everything will recover, the weather will warm up, and the sun will shine on the earth, and it will return to the sky it longs for."

He helped me lean on his warm chest, and I listened to him raptly, with a lonely smile in the corner of my mouth, and began to respond to his story.

"But why did he part with his friends? Did his friends forget to take him away?"

"No, no, I heard from the hotel owner that they often give it some bread crumbs or a few pieces of smoked fish. It is fascinated by the delicious food in front of it, so when it's time to go to the south, it goes to the south. Reluctant to go. It has forgotten its instincts, bought off by bits of dusty bread crumbs scattered on the ground."

"It probably has never eaten such a delicious thing. It is so obsessed with it that it has lost itself."

"Yes, you are right. But the innkeepers also sincerely gave it breadcrumbs, because bread is also a very precious thing to them."

He suddenly pinched my chin, turned to look at him, green eyes rippling the blue waves of Lake Baikal, reflected by the snow a layer of faint silvery white.Emotions, as always, are hidden, sinking to the bottom of the unfathomable lake.

He looked at me, his bright red and soft lips fell down in the next second, and the wet tip of his tongue nimbly pried open my teeth, carefully exploring my lip cavity, as if he was looking for something, and then he raised the corners of his lips, as if to show off He has achieved his goal.

"The more you don't respond to me, the more you care about me." He buried his head on the side of my neck and said softly, "I'm very happy."

I lowered my eyes and said lightly: "Perhaps I would have cared about the reason why you did this before, but now I don't care. Because I have already recognized a reality."

"What reality?"

"I can never see your reality clearly."

"You?" He chuckled, "Are you referring to me and Sasha? Or Richard, Milk, and Evgeny?"

"But you really think it's a good thing to see clearly?"

"No, I don't think it's a good thing, but I just feel sad."

"Sorrow is the most meaningless emotion. You see, we are together now, in the quiet countryside, in a warm room, just you and me. If we forget about those sorrows, will we be happier?"

"It's just self-deception."

"But weren't you very good at it before?" His tone suddenly became impatient, and he turned my shoulder and forced me to look at him: "This kind of useless emotion will only pull us further and further apart, why don't you try to forget , start over with me?"

He stuck to me, put one arm around my waist, and stretched his other hand into my cotton-padded coat, his delicate fingertips went up along the spine, and then slowly down.

"Didn't you always like this the most? If you have that time to be angry with me, why not..." His kisses fell like raindrops, I pushed him away tremblingly, and then leaned against the window, letting the cold The snow scene calms my painful heart.

His expression became sad, and he pushed me against the window from behind, ignoring my resistance, his movements were full of resentment, but he was so helpless.Like a child who has lost his candy, rubbing the beautiful wrapper, longing for some comfort from the crumbs left on it.

I pressed my face against the cold glass, making creaking noises.He raised my chin from behind and ordered me to say that he loved him against my ear. I frowned in pain and looked at the black-brown roof hanging from the wooden house. Withered pine branches were wrapped into bunches and stuck to the top For cold resistance.

I can't feel anything, my body is convulsing involuntarily, but my eyes are in the illusory place, and I am thinking in my heart, why use pine branches to resist the cold?

Say you love me, say you love me, the voice and movement are getting more and more urgent, more and more impatient, more and more painful...

say you Love Me.......

I laughed, a tear ran down my cheek, and I didn't give him the answer he wanted, but under his collision, I said intermittently: "You said, when he saw this for the first time, would he , will you have the same...question as me?"

"No... Maybe he won't see these pine branches at all, but he should see... the endless snow... He should be very shocked."

He loosened his grip on my chin, stopped his movements for a moment, and asked suspiciously, "What are you talking about?"

I turned my head to look at him: "He should have been taken directly into the car and sent to some unknown place, and he will never be able to get out again for the rest of his life."

"It's a pity that he will never see such a beautiful place, and can only stay in the uninhabited desert, constantly, continuously, pouring out his life and mind to do a terrible thing."

His expression froze and he completely let go of me.He took a step back and pulled away suddenly. Regardless of my body's instinctive trembling, I just looked at him with a calm smile, and even examined him.

"How did you feel when you saw him? Have you ever thought about how there is such a coincidence in this world?"

I walked towards him naked, and he fell down on the bed, his expression flustered for a moment, but he calmed down quickly.

"His son saved you, but you are going to take him away."

"Take poor him to a foreign land, let them become your prisoners, under your control, never see the light of day..."

"Which test site is it? Generally, the test sites for nuclear tests are...they are all kind of bitter cold places where there is no grass...What is the difference between this and exile... ..”

His restored calm face slowly leaked a smile, and there was helplessness in the smile, as if he was blaming me for being an innocent and ignorant child.He stretched out his hand to gently hold my face, and turned his head tenderly and meaningfully.

"Do you really want to know what I think?"

"Do you think I'll think what I'm doing is wrong?"

He lowered his eyes slowly, his voice calm and firm.

"Yes, Rhine, I'm sorry for you, but I don't think I did anything wrong. Before your lover, I was a Soviet Red Army soldier and a staunch communist. A fact that cannot be changed."

"And we have nuclear weapons, which are a necessary means to fight against imperialism. Wouldn't East Germany be safer? There are always people who have to sacrifice, and there are always people who will be villains."

"I don't regret it, I took your father away with my own hands, at least..." He looked up at me with blazing eyes: "At least he enjoyed the highest level of treatment as a scientist when he was under my command. :

"However, you are more concerned about my concealment from you, but do you know why I didn't tell you the fact that he is still alive?"

I shook my head tremblingly: "I don't know..."

With a touch of sarcasm in his pampering, he held me in his arms, held me gently, and played with me passionately, but whispered softly in my ear: "My dear Rhine, my Rhine, you I don't understand scientists too much, just like soldiers can die fearlessly, scientists will go crazy for research..."

"Do you want me to tell you that your father was not forced to be captured by the Nazis in the first place, but was willing to join Heisenberg's atomic bomb project? You want me to tell you that your father is not a peace lover in your mind , but willing to be taken away by the enemy country for a big killer, knowing that there is a chance to leave and return to his son, but willing to throw everything away for the experiment?"

"Do you want me to tell you that he doesn't love you at all?"

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