The Naming of Cats

Chapter 18

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In the deep mountains of winter, everything is silent, and the coming of Christmas is equally silent.

Danny has been in the study lately. He had never been a big fan of the Internet, partly because of family education and familiarity, partly because it was unnecessary and troublesome. However, since realizing that they were in the United States, Danny suddenly had a fighting spirit.

He spends a lot of time on the Internet, the main content is to log in the mailbox to contact the lawyers he knows, and plot how to sue his former client in jail and make a lot of money - don't be surprised, Danny does not have the money to hire lawyers, but social elites are often more Weird hobby. Or, they have enough money to fulfill their hobbies. Danny is not their friend, he is their fetish. He had enough reasons to get to know them.

Even so, there are only one or two special occasions where Danny's client can become his friend like the lawyer—you can't just make friends on the street. By the same token, you can't just give yourself a personal phone call from a customer. Aside from the rustiness when he first opened, Danny has always been professional in his approach to work. He just wished he could specialize in a more decent job.

Aside from this conspiracy, Danny's life focuses on tracking down the doctor.

The doctor is a little-known person, and there are no results in English, and only enrollment and graduation records can be found in Japanese. Danny had already anticipated this. He doesn't think doctors are that kind of famous people—doctors don't have that kind of self-awareness in their behavior. On the contrary, Kuze's grandfather was a well-known Japanese-American painter in the local area.

In fact, the doctor never mentioned Grandpa's full name, and Danny was able to find it here simply because he did something bad: he peeked into Kuze's drawer. Several large and small notebooks and envelopes were piled up in two stacks in the desk drawer, unlocked. When Danny opened it to read, he felt like a bluebeard bride.

You might see something terrible. Danny thought.

He was probably half serious.

Not that Danny really forgot about Christmas, but he did immerse himself in Hitchcock-esque puzzles and missed the time for the apple pie. When the doctor came in with a half-baked apple pie and asked if it was Danny's work, he raised his head with hindsight, realizing that he had been exposed again.

The doctor, of course, found that the material Danny was reading was his old class notes. This was the second time it had happened, and Danny was 80% sure the doctor wouldn't be angry, but he was still nervous. Danny wanted to change the subject. He took the plate of apple pie, squeezed out of the door under the doctor's arm, and put it back in the oven to try to save it.

"You are reading my notes." The doctor followed behind him and spoke slowly. His voice was not as serious as his words. "I'm glad I don't keep a diary. You privacy thief."

Danny immediately froze in place.

"I just want to get to know you," he replied awkwardly.

"Me?" The doctor said unexpectedly, raising his eyebrows, "What do you want to know? Just ask."

"Want to ask what happened after you moved here," Danny said. He casually opened the oven door and put the baking tray back, pretending he didn't sneak a glance at the doctor's expression. Danny tapped his finger on the heat pipe, and withdrew his hand with a hiss, and found that the oven was cold—he had been distracted in the study long enough.

The doctor laughed: "Just ask, don't mess with that apple pie."

Danny was even more embarrassed. He pushed the baking tray aside to face the doctor. His gaze landed on Kuze's face inquiringly, but quickly moved away. Danny wasn't sure if this was a good time to ask. Christmas, they should be happier.

"Tell me?" the doctor asked.

This is what you asked for. Danny thought. He took a deep breath and asked, "You immigrated from Japan, right? More than three years ago... on the eve of the plague."

The smile on the doctor's face disappeared.

"Your grandfather, is he Japanese-American? After his wife died, he moved out of Japan and settled here alone. While you grew up in Japan, you maintained close contact with your grandfather. After graduating from your doctorate, you also Take care of him and come to America. Later, he died in that plague..." Danny said here, pausing to see the doctor's response. This conversation wasn't about poking the doctor's wound, he didn't want to upset the doctor.

"It's not the plague, it's lung cancer," the doctor said calmly.

Danny nodded, not surprised. During the most chaotic months of the plague, there were no doctors to operate, beds and staff were similarly short, and Danny remembered that his plan to have his wisdom teeth pulled was delayed by a year. But wisdom teeth and cancer are very different. He didn't know how to comfort the doctor but patted his arm. The doctor held his hand and motioned him to continue.

Danny then went on to tell his inferences. He tried to find a softer way to say it: "That period...was very difficult for anyone. Especially for immigrants. You came here in a hurry, and you got into a lot of hardship because of the death of a loved one and the situation. And you don't Speaks English, can't fit in-"

"Huh? Wait, what are you talking about?" The doctor interrupted Danny, he frowned and looked at Danny disapprovingly, "Hey, although Asahikawa Medical College isn't a first-class school, it's impossible. I don’t teach English. Because my grandfather is here, I have studied English seriously, even if I have an accent, it’s not so bad that I can’t speak it.”

Danny was stunned. The doctor's answer was very different from what Danny expected. Does the doctor speak English? Then why couldn't they communicate before Danny learned Japanese? Even if there is an accent difference, it should not be completely incomprehensible to each other.

"Are you sure? You can understand what I'm saying?" Danny said in English. He stared at the doctor, trying to see through his mental activity, but the doctor just laughed lightly and said, "Don't 'meow'. Although cat language and English are foreign languages to me, I can't hear them. Understand 'meow meow meow'."

What do you mean... Danny doubts his own judgment. The doctor's logic is very reasonable. The doctor's grandfather is American, and the doctor himself is highly educated. How could he possibly not speak English? Even if you don't speak well, you can at least understand a few words. But the truth is that the doctor doesn't understand English at all. As long as Danny speaks English, it's a meow in the doctor's ear.

Danny is caught in a conflict, and the doctor apparently doesn't take Danny's opinion seriously when he says "you don't know English". Seeing that Danny was lost in thought, he jokingly held Danny's shoulder and shook it, urging: "Wake up, apple pie?"

… so complicated. Danny let out a long sigh. The doctor is right, let's make apple pie first.

The doctor also has the concept of Christmas, and the dinner is prepared extraordinarily.

Danny spent the afternoon searching the Internet while comparing the recipes in his memory, and made the apple pie that has been congealed for a lifetime. After degenerating into an internet addict, he found a lot of internet recipes like this. Danny printed them all out and stacked them in front of the desk. When he was about to pick another one and practice his cooking skills, the stack of recipes was elevated by the doctor. Danny reached out to grab it, and the doctor, relying on his height, took the time to lift the whole stack of recipes out of his reach: "Enough is enough, we will eat microwave meals until the New Year."

Then why didn't the doctor cancel his dish? Danny thought angrily. He jumped like the fox in the fairy tale that couldn't reach the apple on the branch, and because of the accident during the day, he knew that he was wrong and didn't dare to directly refute the doctor, so he had to curse loudly in English. He himself felt that the indignation in his voice was obvious, but the doctor laughed heartlessly aside.

"What are you laughing at? Maybe I'm scolding you?" Danny asked angrily.

The doctor smiled again: "It doesn't matter that way, I can't tell. I just think you're cute when you meow."

Danny was startled.

"Why? Are you shy?" the doctor laughed, and he tapped the table. "Looking back, do you want to drink—ah, can you drink?"

Of course Danny can drink. He had vomited many times before reaching legal drinking age, which should be counted as occupational injuries. But Danny knew the doctor wasn't referring to the legal drinking age, but whether the "cat" could drink. He was too lazy to argue.

The doctor bought beer. I mentioned twelve cans, which I just took out from the corner of the refrigerator. Cold and piercing water droplets condensed on the outer skin of the metal can. Danny opened two cans and filled a pair of glasses half-full. He raised his glass and made a toast to the doctor.

The doctor picked up another cup. The rims of the glasses collided, making a crisp sound. "Merry Christmas," he said.

"Merry Christmas," Danny replied in English. He knew it was just a meow in the doctor's ear, but he just wanted to say it. He swallowed the beer in the glass, rested his cheek with one hand, and stared at the doctor's face drinking with his head raised in the heat of the food on the table. Danny used to be a little face-blind to Orientals and thought they all looked alike. The middle-aged people in the Chinese food delivery look exactly the same, the young people near the university look exactly the same, and even the ABC in the swimming pool has the same smile.

But doctors are different. Danny can't remember when the difference started. Maybe he thought this Oriental man was terrifyingly tall at first, or maybe he only discovered the edges and corners of the doctor's face, the details carved by the wind and frost. Or maybe both, his impression is gradually changing. Now, Danny looked at the doctor and knew he would never mistake this man. He doesn't need more confirmation, Danny just needs a little more effort.

Danny laughed. He snatched the doctor's glass and pushed his own. The doctor looked at him suspiciously. Danny slowly poked the tip of his tongue out of his teeth and licked the rim of the cup. He's very good at this sort of thing. The doctor wouldn't be seduced by him, but Danny didn't mind. Like a bird of paradise courtship, spreading its tail feathers is both an attraction and a way of showing that one is attracted. He watched the doctor drink beer from Danny's own glass, his face flushed slightly under the lamp.

The doctor cut two pieces of apple pie and distributed them on their plates. Danny didn't remind that it was dessert. At this moment, he was willing to drown in sugar.

No tree, wreath, turkey, mistletoe or holly this Christmas Eve. Danny has nothing, and certainly nothing to give the doctor as a Christmas present. Instead, he received a Christmas present from the doctor: a leather cat collar—though it was very delicate and soft, with no nameplate and no insect repellent, trying to look like an ordinary ornament, it was a cat collar. And cat bells.

It's been a horrible Christmas.

Danny stared at the cat collar. The doctor was back in the upstairs bedroom long before the gift-opening session, and Danny wondered if he knew he was going to get mad and avoided it. He tore off the wrapping paper, slipped his fingers over the smooth edge, opened the buckle, and put the collar around his neck. The bell rang crisply with Danny's movements.

Danny steps up the stairs, taking off/on the oversized dress from the doctor as he goes. No need to unbutton the shirt, just pull it off. The slacks are even easier. Pull off the belt and fall down like running water along the straight legs, leaving two ripples on the ground. He threw his underwear at the door of the doctor's bedroom and pushed in.

The doctor was making the bed with his back to him. Hearing the sound, he turned his head and opened his eyes. The doctor was obviously taken aback by Danny's outfit, took a step back, and knocked his calf against the edge of the bed. Danny doesn't care about that. He closed the door, ignoring the doctor's doubts and lingering fears, and sat on the doctor's bed.

"Your Christmas present," Danny said, "is a cat for 12 hours."

He adjusted his state and let out a soft cat meow. This skill is not alienated by two months of isolation, and the "meow" sounds very realistic. Professionally, Danny has a lot of experience acting as a cat, but now, he is not as comfortable as a cat in front of the doctor. Somehow, it always seemed a little ashamed.

The doctor was surprised and at a loss. He looked at Danny on the bed as if he didn't know what to say. Danny laughed. He kicked off half of the neat quilt, rolled over and lay in. Seeing that the doctor didn't respond, Danny imitated the cat's movements. Instead of spreading his fingers, he patted the mattress with his entire palm, making a urging meow.

The panic and bewilderment of the doctor is simply visible to the naked eye. He froze in place, waited for Danny to urge again, then hesitantly stepped forward and sat stiffly on the edge of the bed. After a while, Danny heard the doctor clear his throat. He waited for the doctor to speak, but he said nothing. The doctor quietly turned off the light and lay on the edge of the bed, furthest from Danny.

Danny was quite calm. He waited patiently like a cat catching fish, until the doctor finally couldn't hold on to the awkward position on the edge of the bed, rolled over, and moved a few inches closer to Danny's direction. good. Danny thought. He leaned sideways into the doctor's arms, was quiet for a moment, and began to scratch his arm lightly with his fingernails.

"Hey-"

The doctor tried to protest, but Danny spoke before he could speak - he "meowed" lazily, like a cat complaining about not getting attention. His voice was soft and lingering. After a while, Danny felt the doctor's hand slowly wrap around his waist. At first it was just a stiff touch, but gradually the doctor got closer to Danny, and they became two overlapping spoons. The doctor's breath blew on the skin on the back of Danny's neck. It was a little itchy, but Danny held back.

These 12 hours are a gift from Dr. Danny and a buffer for himself. He wouldn't bring up topics that would upset doctors at Christmas. Danny curled up in the doctor's arms, remembering what he had said before dinner: "Even if that's okay, I can't hear it."

Yes, only comprehensible insults and practices hurt the heart. If it's all meowing, it will be interesting. Treat all those who discriminate as non-human animals, and think that they do not know how to be polite and have no sociality, so they can not be harmed by malice. Humans don't care how house cats curse at them.

Before the doctor came to the United States, he had beautiful fantasies in his heart. His close connection with his grandfather left him a good impression of this strange country, he speaks English and is well educated. Doctors have hope for the future. But he came to America at a time of hate and fear. He was hit by the death of his grandfather, and found that the land and its people did not welcome him.

It's hard to imagine what kind of "unwelcome", so that the shortage of "doctor" has no use. Or maybe there was a place for it, but it is no longer in use, so I lost my job and went back to this house in the mountains. The doctor had no choice, this vision was his only means of self-defense.

Danny was willing to let the vision linger for another 12 hours.