Battle of the Rhine

"Big girl" took her daughter and waved goodbye to Michael cheerfully. Before that, she promised [-] times that she would never cut off friendship with Michael just because he was a "dead gay". "Damn it," "Big Girl" patted her chest, "how did we know each other? Huh? Our friendship was established...in the war! How could this crotch thing affect our relationship, Fuck do you think I'm one of those short-sighted idiots? Told you I rented the house to...fuck! I don't care who he takes back just pay the rent on time and don't ruin the wallpaper and furniture It becomes..."

Michael was sure that Quincy heard and understood the word "crotch".Back at the hotel Quincy went to another room—it was his eccentricity to have two rooms wherever he stayed, even if the other one was never occupied.Now Michael understood that Quincy was meant to deal with a bad situation like this one day.He knocked on the door several times, but there was no movement in the room.It makes people anxious.Quincy was prone to fevers when he was angry, and he suffered from aphasia long ago.Afraid that this incident would anger his college students again, Michael finally went to the manager to get the key, and broke in bravely.

Quincy was wrapped in the blanket, breathing heavily.Michael dug him out of the covers so that Quincy would not die of suffocation. "I'm sorry," he apologized sincerely, "I didn't mean to cheat you...I didn't know that 'big girl' would be there! He didn't say he was going to celebrate his daughter with a scholarship today..."

"I-I just knew, no-shouldn't have come." Quincy panted, "Mike, you, this—"

"I'm a bastard!" Michael gently reassured him. "'Big Girl' is a good guy, and he promises not to tell it. It's okay to say it," he muttered quickly. "I'm young. At that time, he was the number one fighter in the All-Union team, whoever dares to talk nonsense, I will beat him..."

Quincy shook his head.Michael touched his face, it was fine, no fever. "Once upon a time, long time ago," he rocked Quincy like a baby, "everybody said 'Big Chick' liked guys, so they called him 'Big Chick.' He was pissed off! Actually he didn't like boys, he liked black-haired girls. Then he married a black-haired girl, who was Winora's mother. Winora is very smart and beautiful, isn't she? Well, who would have thought..."

"You're the 'big girl,'" said Quincy, puffing up. "You're the one, old Mike."

"Well, I admit, I am, because I like you." Michael continued to shake his college student, "This is God's arrangement, I can't resist, so—"

"God damn it." Quincy pushed Michael away. "Go away and leave me alone."

After repeated invitations from "Big Girl"—he even called three times a day to the hotel—Michael persuaded Quincy to "drink tea" at "Big Girl"'s house.Said to drink tea, they played until midnight.Quincy and "Big Girl" became friends, and they chatted quite well, constantly talking about the impact of the international situation on asset investment... and they both like to listen to dramas.Michael and Quincy left New York for Arizona, and Big Girl saw him off at the airport.After hugging Michael, he squeezed Quincy's hand and said sincerely, "Honestly... I've been meaning to say it for a long time! It's such a pity to meet you in that situation. Blame the fucking war !Keep in touch! You are always welcome in New York, next time we come, let's keep drinking!"

Quincy pursed her lips and smiled. "Thanks, I will."

"I didn't expect you two to have something in common." On the plane, Michael pretended to be jealous, "'Big Girl' was my good friend..."

"He swears to me that although he tried to persuade you to return to the United States, he never offered to introduce you to girls in 1951." Quincy glanced at Michael flatly, "Remember your New York girl, Fiennes ?”

"I'm—"

"The plane is about to take off, shut your mouth."

Michael has not been back to his hometown town for many years.Before going back, he contacted Mary and asked her to help find someone to check the cottage on the farm.Mary told him that the house on the farm could still be lived in, and she hired workers to repair the roof again, and the labor costs were of course credited to Michael's account.Michael rented a pickup truck from the city, and the dealer looked at the stern Quincy curiously. Michael practiced the excuse he had prepared for a long time: "This is my boss, he is German, the first coming to America."

"Germany? It's far enough! Farther than Canada, isn't it?" The guy said with a strong southern accent, "It's not easy to come here, but you have to go around. We are so big!"

"I guess he's only been in middle school for one year." Michael started the pickup and said preemptively, "You can't care about the geography level of middle school students."

"America's education." Quincy's European haughty expression returned, but he quickly dropped the mask—Michael drove around town, forcing Quincy to change into a jacket, Shirt and jeans, of course, a cowboy hat and ankle boots. "You look like this... like a junior cowboy," Michael said happily at his "masterpiece", "I have to take a picture of you—"

"Fuck you!" Quincy's ears were bright red, and he lowered his head and tugged at his jeans, "I hate these pants."

"Your legs are as straight as a poplar tree." Michael put his hand on Quincy's thigh with malicious intentions, and fumbled, "It's much more suitable than your suspenders, you should wear these tight pants..."

Dude is right, the fields are empty and America is bigger than Germany.Michael was driving along the road, the clouds were low and the wind was blowing across the prairie. "I grew up in this kind of place," he opened the car window, and his voice was broken by the wind, "here... there is no good scenery, only grass, sky, cows... Can you smell it? That earthy smell Son……"

Quincy put his hands on his shoulders and slid down to rest on Michael's back.There's a scar there, the imprint of Michael's childhood, "There's nothing too bad here," he said, "not many people—I hate crowds."

"I thought about bringing you back." Michael looked ahead, "That's right, that's when I thought about it. The news said that several groups of German prisoners of war were sent to the United States to work on farms. I also have a farm. Short of manpower, I have enough reasons..."

"Shall I graze cattle for you?"

"No, actually there's not much work for you on the farm. You can at most help me calculate the income, and I can't calculate it myself. I just don't want to let you go... I feel so sad when I receive the order to let you go. At that time I don't know what's wrong with me, I have a stomachache, bloating, pain..."

"So you figure it out now?" Quincy said, his blue eyes fixed on Michael.

"Got it," Michael stopped the car, grabbed Quincy by the collar of his jacket, pulled him into his arms and kissed him hard, "what else could it be for?—I love you." He restarted Pickup licked the corner of his mouth as if nothing had happened.