Battle of the Rhine

Michael spent a whole Sunday in confession, confessing his sins, his mistakes, his arrogance, his stupidity.He knelt by the hotel window, dizzy with anxiety.Saturday's hug lasted a few minutes before Michael pushed Quincy away and ran for the door as if fleeing for his life.He couldn't bear to be in the same room with Quincy anymore, "You're a beast," he tore at his hair, and slapped his face hard, "You're a bastard, Mike...you should die, go now."

He didn't have to go to church to confess.Old Michael said he didn't think much of a confessor. "First, is there any point in confessing? Will God forgive you just because you confessed? Second, when one person does something, the other should... If he did something bad, he should bear it. That's what a fucking man looks like."

Man, man! It has long been mentioned in the "Bible": "Therefore, God gave them up to use the lusts of their hearts to do unclean things, so that they defiled each other's bodies... The same is true for men, who forsake the natural use of women, and burn their hearts with lust. Greedy, men and men do shameful things, and take the retribution of what you deserve." Michael grabbed his hair and slammed his head against the wall.The wound John had punched opened, and pain and blood woke him up in frantic agony.He covered his head and sat down against the wall.The bell of the church not far away rang, and the bell was carried by the wind. "Take up your responsibility!" Old Michael's words echoed in his mind, "If you make a mistake, you must correct it. This is the man in our family."

Michael has to take responsibility, he insulted an innocent body, just because he was burning with lust.He had to face retribution, but Quincy was innocent.His college students should not be punished for this, whether in this world or after death.Michael had to make sure of that, he had to act, as he had done years ago, to prepare Quincy as best he could...

What is this, is this love?Michael couldn't tell.Love is long-suffering, and he will recite it since he was a child.If he loved Quincy, he shouldn't have raped him in the first place, causing him cognitive confusion; if he had loved Quincy, he wouldn't have come to Germany... What did he come to Germany for?Quincy has long seen it clearly: in order to vent his lust, to "do that thing"... So after coming to Germany, he relapsed into adultery again and again, casting a tragic shadow on Quincy's life ——that would have been a man with a bright future, if there had been no war...

"What an asshole," Michael gritted his teeth, "asshole, shameless—— damn pig—"

At the same time, he felt that he was the weakest poor thing in the world, because there were some things he would never have the courage to admit.

On Monday, Michael lingered in the factory until seven o'clock before leaving get off work.He sent little Hans to buy two hamburgers, ate one, and saved the other for breakfast.When he was driving, he found that there was still Saturday's cake in the back seat of the car, so he sat in the car for a long time in frustration.It was close to eight o'clock when we got home—not home, he corrected silently—the living room was lit, and Charlie was sitting at the dining table, looking down at a document.

"Mike," she smiled, "working overtime?"

Michael nodded, clutching his hat.It was a very respectable woolen hat that Quinnessy had given him.It would be impolite to flee to the second floor. Michael took off his coat and slowly put on his slippers.Xia Li muttered, "...don't you need to sign now?"

"Sign it," said Quincy, hoarse and pale, "while you're not married—"

"Can Foley be changed to our family's surname?" Charlie asked in a low voice. "He is willing to do it, and his parents agree."

"This is your business, and I have no right to interfere." Quincy said, "You are married, you can discuss it slowly...Of course, you can also not get married, Charlie, I don't think you have to get married... "

"Why?" The girl was puzzled, "Do you hate Foley?"

Quincy shook his head, his blond hair drooping in a mess, "I just suddenly remembered that feelings are unreliable, especially—" He rubbed his face with his hands, "Men's feelings are even more unreliable."

"Foley loves me," Charlie smiled shyly, "He loves me, I can feel it." She signed the document, "Carl, I understand what you mean, but we have to believe in love, Isn't it? It's one of the best feelings in the world..."

Quincy gave a short laugh, and Michael didn't even dare to lift his head when he heard it.Charlie continued to mutter, "Foley is not the kind of frivolous person who says 'I love you' lightly, he takes his feelings very seriously. 'I love you' can't be promised casually, right?" Now there are always letters, There is hope, there is love, these three things, the biggest of which is love.' Carl, you have to believe in love. Love exists, just like you love Emma, ​​doesn't it? Love is in your heart..."

"Yes, love exists." Quincy rubbed her cheeks again, as if very tired, "I love her, that's right."

"What do you think, Mike?" Charlie asked, smiling. "You believe in love too, don't you?"

"I believe," said Michael, terrified, trying to maintain a normal expression, "that it's a rather sacred word...'If I could speak the tongue of all men, and the words of angels, but not love, I would be a Gongs, like cymbals.' I don't know how to say it in German, it's in the Bible—"

"I understand," Charlie tapped on the table. "That's great, you can recite the Bible in English! You're a great believer, Mike."

Michael forced a smile, pious, ah, yes, pious.He is not godly, the lost lamb has turned to his own way. "When you find that person, you must say 'I love you'," Xia Li warmly held Michael's hand before leaving, "When you say it, God will protect you..."

The bird flew away.Quincy and Michael walk Charlie to the station, and Charlie chatters happily.On the way back, Michael walked ahead, and Quincy stepped on his shadow.Without talking, they walked along the stone path with their heads buried. The moon was hiding behind the clouds, and there were fine ice crystals in the cold wind. Maybe it will snow tomorrow.

A fire burned in the fireplace, and the flames licked listlessly at splinters. "Mike," said Quincy, "I made dinner—do you want it?"

"No, thank you." Michael refused bluntly, "I've eaten."

"You can't get sick by eating things made by homosexuals." Quincy smiled strangely, "You said you weren't, okay, I apologize to you: I'm sorry." He waited quietly for a few seconds, "We It's still the same as before, isn't it?"

Michael couldn't answer.Like before, yes, he would love to be like before... But he can't do that, the momentary pleasure will damage Quincy forever.Like a man, Michael cheered himself on, though he felt as if his soul was floating in mid-air, and all the sounds seemed to be separated by a fog...

"I'm gay, makes you sick?"

The fog dissipated, and the soul returned to the body.Michael shook his head, "Let's talk," yes, talk, Americans like "talk to heart", "talk..."

"What do you want to say?" Quincy crossed his arms, his eyes were red, "You can rest assured that there is no Stasi here."

"I think...about that thing you said," Michael sat down, the chair stiff as hell, "I've thought about it, for a long time, Carl. I think...you're not, not gay." He sucked Nose, "You have this illusion... because you were raped by me...it's my fault, not yours."

Quincy snorted, "Then?"

"And then." Michael glanced at Quincy, those blue eyes watery and more oceanic than ever, "and about me—I read your book, The Psychology of Sexuality." There's a chapter on it, I read it, I read it several times. I'm not born, I think, I'm a third type, some sort of 'pseudogay'... I joined the army in 1944, Don't know if I mentioned it to you, 1944. I've been in the army for almost a year and a half when I met you. The army is full of fucking men, not even a bitch. I don't go to brothels, it's I told you. I went there once and it opened my eyes... I ran away without spending a dime. 25 years old, sex drive, sex drive is actually quite strong. Women are trouble, and I don't want trouble. But I am very I think... Later, I met you."

"Meet me." Quincy nodded, "Okay."

"You were the first group of our prisoners..." Michael stopped, afraid that Quincy would get angry.Quincy's face in the light was only very pale, tired but calm.He lowered his eyes, "You're not a girl, but you're the prettiest one out there."

Quincy stood there, arms folded, like a statue.For a moment, he looks sideways, as if looking at Michael. "Why did you come to Europe again?" he asked, "Why did you come to me?"

"Because..." Michael touched the military card subconsciously, "Because..."

"Because I'm 'good-looking'? Because I'm weak, neither daring to die nor to resist," Quincy nodded as he said, "Because I'm incurable."

"I love you, Mike." He looked straight at Michael, "I love you."

"What?" Michael was shocked, "What did you say?"

"I," Quincy said, pointing to himself, then to Michael, "I—love—you."

This was probably the scariest scenario Michael had ever imagined.Nightmare come true.Love, love between men, is more evil than deeds.He shook his head desperately, stood up, pushed the chair away, "I...I..."

"Won't you say something?" Quincy smiled. "I thought you loved me, Mike. I thought you took care of me... stayed with me... at least partly out of love. Did you ever love me?" ? Even if it’s as much as one percent?”

"I'm sorry," Michael backed up the stairs, "I'm so sorry."