Battle of the Rhine

The weather is really warming up.The ferns were lush on the banks of the river, and the yellow wildflowers were everywhere, like a starry sky dumped on the grass.Tim seemed to have gotten over the shadow of his failed marriage proposal. "Fuck, the Soviets have already hit the outskirts of Berlin," he said excitedly, "We lost!"

"Okay, let's finish playing early and go home early." Michael was smoking a cigarette, "I hate this kind of weather, it's sticky, and there's a smell in the wind."

"Kraut stinks."

"I think it's time for you to take a shower."

Michael's wing officially became the Caretaker.This is a very strange thing. He wrote to Mary, and the Berlin guns were rumbling, but countless "greyskins" came to surrender every day, for fear that they would be caught up by the Soviets one step later. "If it's possible, our farm can hire a few, they are very honest now...the crafts are also good. Some of them used to be carpenters, and some of them ran mills, and engineers and architects...Damn Know why Germany is fighting this war."

Quincy's attitude softened because of the ring. He was no longer stern, at least not so stern, and nodded when he saw Michael.Michael asked a few things: Quincy's home was in southern Germany; he was studying mechanics at university; Emma was a blonde girl. "If the war is over and I'm still alive," Quincy fiddled with a cigarette with his slender fingers, "I'll go back..."

"Is Emma pretty?" Michael took a breath and teased, "You like her very much, don't you?"

Quincy's ears gradually turned red.His skin is very fair, so the red is particularly obvious. "She's fine." He was silent for a few seconds, "She's a good woman."

"My wife's a nice woman, too," Michael said. "She's just got a bad temper--tough, you know?"

Quincy smiled.At this close range, Michael could clearly see the faint fluff around his ears. "How did you get yourself so clean?" He asked abruptly, "I can't do it."

"Wash as much as you can."

"I can't wash it clean, the weather in Europe is too weird."

Quincy smiled again.He didn't smoke, so he held the cigarette and twirled it between his fingers.Michael could vaguely smell bad soap, but he wasn't sure because it came and went.He felt hot inside, and something was churning in his stomach.There must be something wrong with the damn piece of beef at noon... It wasn't cooked through, and after it was cut, the pink meat was still mixed with blood.

It was a beef shank, Michael was sure.He has worked with cattle for as long as he can remember.Bulls, cows, calves... The cows are running, panting after the cows.Michael was most afraid of a sudden storm. If a cow was lost, old Michael Fiennes would hold a stick as thick as his wrist and give his only son a "good memory".There is still a scar on Michael's back now, which is his "memory" when he was 12 years old.He lost a cow, a very beautiful cow, all white.

"Get it back!" Old Michael was furious, "You fucking, you prodigal—"

The cow was deliberately let go by Michael, and I believe his father saw the clue.He liked the cow, white and gleaming in the sun.

"get back!"

"I can't find it."

Michael ran out and hid in the fields all day.The wind howled sharply, and the lower edge of the blue sky was covered with a layer of gray-yellow earth.He grew up under this kind of sky, and took over his father's farm, working, grazing cattle... Occasionally lying in the grass and masturbating, it can be regarded as adding a bit of fishy fun to the unchanging boring life.

"Why are you absent-minded?" Peter kicked Michael. "What's the matter, you went out to fool around at night?"

"Fart, I'm not you." Peter also found a German girl, but he never thought of getting married. "One thing for one thing," he said openly.

"I reckon you'd better go out and have some fun," Peter laughed. "You look so suffocated—"

"Nonsense—I just didn't sleep well, and this shitty place is full of mosquitos. It's not even May yet!" Michael lied, "Just now I was thinking about moving to the city after returning to the United States. I don't want to It’s boring to raise cattle, I’d better learn a craft, even if I work in a factory.”

"Trust me, man, you'll give up the idea after two days in a factory." Peter worked in a mold factory for seven years before joining the army. "The fucking noise, the dust, the disgusting smell of gasoline... the boss It's a vampire... I'd rather go to the country and herd cattle and see the face of God ten thousand times better than the face of a vampire, really, I'm tired of going to work."

At night, Michael had a dream.He dreamed that he was herding cows in a field, and every cow in the herd was shining white.He had never seen a cow so clean, as beautiful as icing sugar.Michael masturbated to the white bull in the center of the herd, which looked at him with blue eyes and curiosity.Cows are intelligent animals whose eyes can speak.Every time a cow is slaughtered, Michael is full of guilt. The cow will shed tears, which makes Michael feel that he is committing a crime and wants to go to church to repent.But in the dream he couldn't think of those sins, confession, he hugged the white bull by the neck, and rode on it naked, and then, don't know when, he fucked the bull hard, God , he's fucking that cow!

Michael woke up, heart beating wildly.It was an evil dream in which he transformed himself into a lecherous fool.It's a fool to provoke a cow. He slowly sat up and calmed down in the dark.Tim grunted, "What time is it?"

"03:30."

"Before dawn……"

Michael lay down again, silently repenting to God.How could he fuck that white bull in his dream?Maybe Peter was right, he held it in for too long.After reciting three prayers, the remaining sexual desire finally died down in him.He touched the wedding ring on his finger and thought happily, "Michael Fiennes, it's good that dreams don't count, you haven't done something stupid... This is God's warning... Think of Mary Jean, think Wife does not break the law."

He turned over and tried to think of how cute Mary looked in her overalls.But he couldn't remember it anyway, and what flashed in front of his eyes was Carl Quincy working barefoot in the mud.