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One day in the future, when she is ready, she will open the curtains, put away the clothes in the drawers, and put away the books on the floor. She would wash the sheets, open desk drawers, and empty Lydia's pants pockets, which contained the few remaining fragments of her daughter's life: coins, unsent postcards, torn pages from magazines. She would stare at a piece of mint candy wrapped in cellophane for a while, wondering if it was something important, if it meant something to Lydia, or if it was something she had forgotten and discarded. She knew she wouldn't find the answer. Now, she could only stare at the figure on the bed, with tears in her eyes. This is enough.
The sun was just rising when Hannah came downstairs. She carefully counted two cars in the driveway, two sets of keys on the front hall table, and five pairs of shoes by the door—one of which was Lydia's. . Although she felt a pain in her collarbone when she saw this pair of shoes, these numbers made her feel at ease. She looked out the front window and saw the door to the Woolfs' house being opened and Jack and his dog coming out. Although she knew that many things were different from before, seeing Jack and his dog walking toward the lake still made her feel at ease, as if the universe was slowly returning to normal.
However, Nath, standing in front of the window upstairs, had exactly the opposite idea. He woke up from a drunken sleep, the whiskey had left his body, everything seemed brand new: the outline of the furniture, the sunlight splitting the carpet, his hand raised in front of his eyes, even the pain in his stomach - since yesterday's breakfast He didn't eat anything after that, and the food he ate at that time had long since disappeared along with the whiskey - so clear and sharp. Moreover, he looked across the lawn and saw the target he was searching for every day. Jack.
He didn't care whether he changed clothes or took the keys. He had no mind to think about other things. He put on his tennis shoes and darted down the stairs. God gave him this opportunity, and he couldn't waste it. He yanked open the front door and saw Hannah in the front hall as nothing more than a frightened blur. And she didn't even care whether she was wearing shoes or not. She rushed out with Nath in her bare feet. The asphalt ground was still cool and felt damp when she stepped on it.
"Nath," she cried, "Nath, it's not his fault." Nath didn't stop. He wasn't running, just taking long, angry steps toward the corner from which Jack had just disappeared. He looked like one of those cowboys in James's movies, walking determinedly down the deserted streets, muscles taut and unshakable. "Nas." Hannah grabbed his arm, but he was indifferent and continued to walk forward, and she could only follow quickly. They came to the corner and saw Jack sitting on the dock with his arms around his knees and the dog lying beside him. Nas stopped his feet and let a car pass first, while Hannah held his hand hard.
"Please," she said, "please." The car drove off, and Nath hesitated, but he had been waiting for an answer for so long. Ask now or shut up forever, he thought. He broke free from Hannah's hand and crossed the street.
If Jack heard them coming, he didn't show it. He sat there, looking at the water, until Nath stood in front of him.
"You think I can't see you?" Nath said. Jack didn't answer. He stood up slowly, his hands in the back pockets of his pants, and his face turned towards Nath. Nath thought, it seemed like he didn't even bother to fight. "You can't hide it forever."
"I know," Jack said. The dog at his feet gave a low whine.
"Nas," Hannah whispered, "let's go home, please."
Nath ignored her. "I hope you know how sorry you are," he said.
"I'm sorry." Jack said, "I'm sorry about Lydia." His voice seemed to be shaking. "I'm sorry for everything." His dog stepped back in fright and touched Hannah's leg. Come together. She thought Nath would unclench his fist and walk away, leaving Jack alone. But he didn't, he just wondered for a moment - and the confusion made him angrier.
"Do you think this can change anything? Impossible." He clenched his fists and his knuckles turned white. "Tell me the truth. Now. I want to know what happened between you two and why she did that night. Will run to the lake."
Jack shook his head slightly, as if he didn't understand Nath's question. "I thought Lydia told you..." His arms shook, as if ready to grab Nath's shoulder or hand, "I should have told you myself," he said, "I should have said it a long time ago. …”
Nath took a half step forward. He was very close now, close enough to understand what he meant, but he felt dizzy. "What did you say?" he asked, almost in a whisper, so low that Hannah could barely hear. "Admit it was your fault?"
Before Jack's head could move, Hannah suddenly realized what was coming—Nas needed a target, one for him to vent his anger and guilt on, or he would collapse. And Jack knew it, she could see it in his face, the way he held his chest out and raised his head. Nath moved closer, looking into Jack's eyes for the first time in a long time, brown against blue. He was commanding, pleading: tell me. I beg you. Jack nodded: OK.
Then he smashed his fist into Jack, who doubled over. Nass had never hit anyone before, and he thought it would feel good—when his arms stretched out like pistons, he would feel powerful. but it is not the truth. He felt like he was beating a piece of meat, meat that was dense and heavy and would not resist. He felt a little sick. What he expected to hear was the "bang bang" sound like in the movie, but when the fist hit Jack, there was only a dull thumping sound, like a heavy bag falling to the floor, and there was only a slight gasp, which also made He's disgusting. Nath positioned himself and waited, but Jack didn't fight back. He slowly straightened up, holding his stomach with one hand and staring at Nath. He didn't even make a fist with his hand, which made Nath completely want to vomit.
When he found Jack, he thought that if he punched Jack in the face, he would feel better, everything would be different, and the anger in his heart would dissipate like sand. However, nothing happened. He felt like his anger was still there, like a slab of concrete, scratching him from the inside out. There was no proud expression on Jack's face, not even alertness or fear. He just looked at Nath almost tenderly, as if he felt sorry for him, as if he wanted to stretch out his arms and hug him.
"Come on," Ness shouted, "are you too guilty to fight back?"
He grabbed Jack's shoulders and started shaking again, and Hannah turned her head away before his fist made contact with Jack's face. This time, a stream of red droplets dripped from Jack's nose. Instead of wiping them, he let them flow, from his nostrils to his lips to his chin.
"Stop it," Hannah screamed. When she heard her own voice, she realized that she was already crying. Her face, neck, and even the collar of her T-shirt were covered with sticky tears. Nath and Jack also heard her cry, and they turned their heads together. Nath's fist stopped in mid-air, and Jack now looked at her tenderly. "Stop it," she yelled again, her stomach churning. She rushed between the two, trying to protect Jack, slapping her brother with the palm of her hand and pushing him aside.
Nath didn't resist and allowed her to push him. He stumbled involuntarily and collapsed on the polished wooden board. His body slid down the pier and sank into the water.
Well, this is what it feels like, he thought as the water closed above him. He didn't struggle. He held his breath, stabilized his limbs, and sank vertically with his eyes open. It looks like this. He imagined the moment when Lydia sank. The sunlight grew dimmer above the water, and soon he was at the bottom, legs, arms and back pressed against the sandy lake bed. He would stay there until he could hold his breath no longer, until the water came in and doused his thoughts like a candle. Although his eyes stung, he forced himself to keep them open. This is what it feels like, he told himself. Pay attention, notice everything around you, and remember.
However, he is too familiar with water. His body already knew how to react, just like a person instinctively knows to crawl into the corner of a stairwell when the ceiling at home comes down. His muscles stretched and contracted, his body adjusted its balance automatically, his arms paddled through the water, and his legs kicked until his head broke the surface. He coughed out a mouthful of silt and breathed in the cool air. too late. He has learned how not to drown.
He lay on his back on the water, eyes closed, letting the water lift his tired limbs. He had no way of knowing what it felt like, not at any time. He could only guess, but he never knew if he was right. He longed to know what it felt like, what she was thinking, all the things she wasn't telling him. Whether she felt he had failed her and whether she wanted him to let her go. Now, he really felt that she had left.
"Nas?" Hannah called. She stood on the dock and looked down, her face pale. Then another head appeared - Jack's - and a hand reached out to him. He knew it was Jack's hand and when he swam over, he would grab it.
What happens after you catch it? He would stagger home, soaked and covered in mud, his knuckles raw from Jack's teeth. Beside Jack, his nose was bruised and his face was swollen, and there was a brown stain on the front of his shirt. Hannah had obviously cried, there was moisture under her eyes and on her cheeks. Despite this, they were incredibly refreshed, all three of them, as if they had been refreshed by the water. It takes a long time to deal with various problems. Today, they have to deal with their respective parents, including Jack's mother. They'll ask, "Why were you fighting? What happened?" It takes a long time because they can't explain it, and parents always need to explain it. They would change into dry clothes, and Jack would put on one of Nath's old T-shirts, and they would put red potion on Jack's face and Nath's fingers, which made it look even bloodier, as if the wound had been reopened, and In fact, they have begun to heal.
So, what about tomorrow, next month, next year? It takes a long time. Many years from now, they will still sort out various details, recall her face, and trace her outline in their hearts. Of course, now, they fully understand her and what kind of person she is. They will think of her often. For example, Marilyn thinks of her when she draws back the curtains in Lydia's room, opens the cupboards, and takes the clothes off the shelves; and one day, their father arrives at a party and for the first time, he doesn't take a quick glance around the room first. Those blond heads inside, and then he thought of her. When Hannah stood up straighter and her speech became clearer, she would think of Lydia; one day, when she used a familiar motion to brush her hair behind her ears, she would suddenly realize that this motion came from Lydia. I learned it from Dia. And Ness, when people at school ask him if he has any siblings, and he says "two sisters, one of whom is gone", he will think of her; one day, when he sees the girl who will always stay with Jack The little bump on the bridge of his nose, when he wanted to gently touch it with his fingers, he thought of Lydia. A long, long time later, when he looked down at the blue earth in the silent space, he would think of his sister again. He always thought of her at important moments in his life. Although he didn't realize it yet, this habit kept calling him deep inside. Everything that happens in the future, he thought, I am willing to tell you.
Now, he finally opened his eyes. He saw the dock, he saw Jack's hand, he saw Hannah. Finding him floating up, Hannah raised her head and looked at him. He slapped the water with his hands and feet, raised his head and swam toward her. He didn't want to dive under the water again, and he didn't want to take his eyes away from her face.