Battle of the Rhine

Michael didn't lie this time.He read that book, though only one chapter.To be honest, "Sexual Psychology" is really worthy of its name. Michael thinks that this book is both boring and sensational, full of mysterious and mysterious theories and explicit descriptions, and it is not a healthy reading after all.Well, science.Who can explain what science is?The principle of car assembly is science, the assembly line is science, and cooks have their own scientific reasons for cooking, but can human psychology become a science?One of the most elusive and ambiguous things in the world... It changes from time to time, true and false. Sometimes, people can even deceive themselves.Such inaccuracies seem to be beyond the scope of science at all.

Quincy didn't mention Ludwig II anymore. He was carrying a bag, a little sad and confused.He looked at the castle for a while, then at Michael, thoughtfully.Michael tried to find something to talk about, but his throat was uncomfortable, like an unpalatable fish fillet stuck there.So he also shut up, and lost interest in visiting.

Before coming, Quincy had booked a hotel room, two rooms, of course.For several months, Michael found that he could not adapt to sleeping alone, tossing and turning in bed.The food for dinner was good, but both of them had no appetite.Michael ate a few pieces of baked potatoes purely to fill his stomach, and Quincy tore open the bread hastily and dipped them in the soup.Without talking, the original good mood was swept away.

Just because of that word, "gay."Michael shuddered at the thought of the dreaded word. "Sexual Psychology" cited several examples of homosexuality, such as a college student and an army officer... All kinds of coincidences really make people doubt the author's intentions.But the book was published before Michael and Quincy were born, and there must have been millions of college students and military officers on the planet.Michael sat up and patted his head, trying to get those nasty descriptions out of his mind, but it was of no use.He stroked the military badge, and remembered the description of homosexuals in the book, "Male reversers often have a tendency to resemble women..."

Does Quincy look like a girl?No, not at all.He is beautiful, yes, but his beauty is the beauty of ancient Greek statues, not because he is "like a woman".The first time Michael saw him, he was wearing a field gray army uniform, his riding boots were covered with dust and mud, and the collar was unbuttoned to reveal the folds of a white cotton shirt.Post-war Quincy has never been feminine either—you can’t call being “female” in manners, Michael muttered despondently.

Does Michael himself have "feminine tendencies"?No, 100% no.Michael could swear to God.He doesn't like skirts, and he doesn't like high heels.Since he was a child, he liked to play with the shotgun at home, and herding cattle is also a man's job.So what went wrong?He also became more and more aware of the problem: Why did he feel sexually interested in Quincy?He doesn't go to brothels, and he doesn't provoke German girls, obviously he can keep his innocence and loyalty to Mary... What made him have uncontrollable lust, so that he completely abandoned the teachings of morality and God, and committed rape felony?

The next day, the weather was fine and cloudless.After breakfast, Michael drove back to Munich.He didn't sleep well all night, and stretched out his hand in a daze, only to realize that Quincy was not by his side.The empty bed was so cold, Michael cleared his throat, "Carl—I...do you want to talk?"

"What are you talking about?" Quincy's tone was still friendly, and Michael breathed a sigh of relief, "The castle is very beautiful, thank you for bringing me here."

Quincy hummed.He has been staring out the car window, and seems to have developed a great interest in fallen leaves and dead branches.

"Are there any castles this big in Germany?"

"should have."

"Let's go and see together! You can also travel to other countries. I really want to go to England, Piccadilly Avenue..."

"If you have time, you can."

"when are you free?"

"I don't know yet."

He was angry, and it made Michael terribly nervous.He was silent for a while, almost driving at the wrong intersection.Quincy pointed out his driving error, then said lightly, but fairly clearly, "Mike, whatever you think - I'm gay."

Michael stepped on the accelerator, and Jeep rushed forward, almost falling off the cliff.He stepped on the brakes, sweat dripping down his neck, "...don't talk nonsense!"

"I really am," said Quincy quietly.

"You're not." Michael restarted the car and drove into the correct lane.The German guy is really good at building roads. He concentrates his attention on the front. The road is flat and can withstand the weight of tank tracks... Whoever said it, if the Soviet Union built such a beautiful road, maybe the victor of the war That's Hitler...

"I am, I know that," Quincy said, folding his hands in his lap, "I'm gay, the natural way."

"Fuck! You're not!" Michael slammed on the brakes, and the wheels rubbed against the ground making a harsh sound.Thank God there was no car behind, otherwise it must have been a terrible accident.He took a quick breath, took a deep breath, Mike, took a deep breath, calmed down, "You're normal," he said, "I know you are."

"Why don't you want to admit it?" Quincy looked at him with those blue, sea-like eyes. "Does it disgust you that I'm gay?"

"I told you, you're not!" Michael yelled, "Why do you insist that you're a——"

"So what do you say?" Quincy asked, his voice trembling slightly. "You're not either, are you?"

"I'm not," Michael said stiffly. "Certainly not. None of us are... gay. I was married, and you were married. I got divorced because of the war, and the war messed me up. You... you too Because of the war. The war killed Emma, ​​and it made you less... less healthy mentally. You'll be fine." He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, "We're all going to be fine."

The trip to Neuschwanstein ended in oppressive silence.On Monday, Michael went to work and lost his mind several times.Mr. Franz came into the office at lunchtime. "No clients today."

"I hate cafeterias," Michael said. "Fish steak..."

"Fish steaks are only served on Fridays."

"I prefer burgers."

Mr. Franz carried a glass jar containing a little broken tea.Michael gave him some sugar cubes. "There is something I want to ask... What is your life like with your wife?"

"Our life?" Mr. Franz sat down. "It's an ordinary life."

"Can you be more specific?" The feeling of blockage in the throat became more and more intense, and Michael even felt that his stomach was full of sawdust, which made him fidget. "I'm curious about married life... My previous marriage failed too much."

"It's normal, actually. Wake up, she makes breakfast, we eat breakfast together, and then we go to work. She also has a job - she can't be alone or she'll always think of Mark." Mark is Franz's son. Missing on the Eastern Front in 1943, "Work can make her temporarily forget the pain..."

"In the evening, she comes home a little earlier than me, about half an hour. She goes to the grocery store to buy something, and sometimes I do. We cook, eat, talk over dinner, and listen to the radio. There's a nice channel that plays some songs Take a shower and clean the bathroom, then go to bed. That's it." Mr. Franz finished, taking a sip of hot tea, "Nothing special."

"What about the weekend?"

"That's it. Go for a walk and do some shopping. She sits in front of the fire knitting while I read books and newspapers. Go to church on Sunday and rest in the afternoon..."

"Thanks," Michael said, looking down at his burger.He recalls living exactly like that after moving into the Quincy house.The realization that he and Quincy resembled a married couple of 30 years was too much for Michael to swallow.He should have realized the anomaly earlier, five years ago!But he chose to escape.He was addicted to the happiness and contentment that Quinnessy brought him, and he never thought about the future—how long would Quinnessy live with him like this?One year has passed, two years, three years, five years?Or Michael should ask himself: Can he maintain such a "close" relationship with Quincy?If so, how long can it last?