White City Murder Expo

Each of us has the potential to be a detective. As a parent, you can easily see everything without any specific training. You can always be the first to realize the abnormality of your child—provided that he or she has not It's never been right.

So, when I strayed into his room and ran away in despair, I called him into the room afterwards and said, "Butcher, we need to talk." And he looked me in the eye and told me frankly: "Yes, Dad, I was masturbating thinking about you." I didn't get angry either.

I just feel, feel, feel, uh, this is ridiculous, more embarrassing than irritating.So instead of losing my temper, I'd rather run out the door.I'd rather wonder if I'm old enough to be hard of hearing than question Butcher.After all, this is my son, what can I do with him?He was already taller than me, and for the first 17 years of his life, I never hit him.

I said, "If you do this, you will not be admitted to university."

"There's no logic to that," he said.

I said, "Okay, I'm sorry."

That was all that failed conversation.

I remember it was May 1893, 5, because all the front pages of the newspapers were given over to the opening of the World's Fair.The locals are insanely happy, the news pours straight up your nostrils, and even though I live in the suburbs of Chicago near the Union Livestock Center, I can't avoid being choked with joy.

I have a pharmacy on the edge of the loop that I never took seriously because it wasn't doing well.When I voted for the site selection of the World Expo four years ago, I never imagined that the land would be so highly valued today.

My son Butcher, who is 17 this year, was 13 that year.I remember that at that time he often sat in front of me and read the newspaper, glanced at the newspaper and glanced at me. At first I didn't know what it meant.Then one day he said to me out of the blue, "Chicago is one vote away from a majority, Dad."

"so what?"

"Will you take me to the Expo?"

"It's not like choosing a location today and launching it tomorrow, Boots."

"How long will it take then?"

"100 years," I said.

"Sue!" he called.

Butcher liked to call me by my first name when he was upset and when he was particularly happy.I don't know what he was thinking at that time, I just remember lying down on the sofa after I finished speaking.I was embarrassed to tell him that our family has no money, not to mention that there is nothing interesting about an exhibition.

I didn't believe Chicago could produce anything decent at the time, and I didn't think an expo could change people's perception of Chicago's slaughterhouses.This is a second-tier city, with nothing but people and land, the air is turbid, and there are few flat gravel roads, and you will step on minced pig meat and cow bones when you walk, and no one knows if there is any dirt in it. blood of neighbors.

Homicides are local.In the first half of last year, there were nearly a thousand violent cases, robbery, rape, shooting, who knows what the hell is the reason?I named my son Butcher, and I sincerely hope he is at least the one who kills and not gets killed.

Of course, there are other facts like this:

I drank the day Butcher was born, not to celebrate.I couldn't stay awake listening to my ex-wife's screams in the delivery room.When the noise subsided and the nurse wheeled me into the ward, my ex-wife said, "You're not, lame. You've been in war, haven't you?"

I don't like people lifting my legs, not even my wife.I immediately opened the door and went out without even having time to look at the children.

"Fuck you, Sue!" she yelled behind her back.

Because of this, I didn't like my son at all when he was born.Later my ex-wife asked me what the child should be called?I looked at the butcher-like man in the next bed, thought for a moment, and said, "Butcher."

She slapped me and ended up letting her son use that name, and I don't know what that means.

Even though I named my son Butcher, he doesn't look like a pig butcher at all.Butcher was handsome, six feet tall, but not stupidly big. 17 year olds are mostly obnoxious, Butcher never pissed me off, and while I do get annoyed at times when he hides my booze, I know he's doing it for my own good, the world cares so much about daddy Children are hard to come by. Everyone says I have a good son.

Butcher also isn't in a relationship.It's unbelievable that I gave birth to a civilized man, I almost gave him a brother when he was his age.Young people don't fall in love too early, or I'm afraid that one day some girl's father will come in with a shotgun and make Butcher and me responsible for his pot-bellied baby.

I once asked Butcher, "Why don't you have a girlfriend?"

"Math is better," he said.

I was so moved that tears were about to flow from my nostrils.

Overall, Butcher is pretty much the perfect kid, right?The only thing I can't understand is that there are always small animal bones and fragmented insect corpses in his room, and he said he was just curious.I'm also curious, what did the school teach him?

In [-], the British serial murder case was published in newspapers every day. Everyone liked to read such foreign stories, and didn't think it would spread to themselves.I was a little disturbed that Butcher had read them over and over, and even cut them out and pasted them above my bed.

"You won't be able to sleep at night after watching this." I said.

"will not."

"I said, you should watch less murder cases."

"Then can you buy me a new storybook?"

We have no money.I remember saying:

Come on, tell Dad what this Jack the Ripper is all about.