White City Murder Expo

I sat at the table and ate breakfast with Butcher, and I stirred the coffee with the spoon, the little china spoon clinking against the side of the cup.

"Did you brush your teeth, Dad?" Butcher asked me.

"Uh, I don't know."

"Open your mouth."

"Ah—" I said, "I've got a bit of a sore throat."

"That's what happens when you drink too much."

Butcher said.He stared at my open mouth for a long time, making me uncomfortable.Is there a vegetable leaf or something in it?I don't know what fun he has.

As he took my bread and smeared it with raspberry jam and handed it back to me, I suddenly remembered and asked, "Why didn't you go to class?"

Butcher sighed. "Today is Sunday."

Oh, oh, so it is.

Then he said, "But you have to go to school."

"why?"

"Susan needs you."

"Did you get into trouble? . . . Oh! Was it your fight on Friday?"

"Maybe," Butcher said.

Susan is Butcher's class teacher, a young physics teacher.I have been a little afraid of teachers since my middle school days, even if I have to bow my head to see her face now.

"I'm telling you seriously," I said half-jokingly after I had finished my breakfast and lit a cigarette, "if your teacher Susan tells me otherwise, you're screwed. When I come back, I want beat you hard."

"Really?" Butcher asked nonchalantly.He got up to clear the dishes, and he took the cigarette from my mouth and threw it into the jam-stained plate, and the cigarette was extinguished immediately.

"Hi!" I said.

Considering that I wanted to see Butcher's teacher, I specially washed my hair, shaved my face, put on a clean dress, and called a carriage to drive to the middle school where Butcher was studying.

I walked into the teacher's office.

A short woman in an orange dress sat sideways to the door, wearing glasses, leaning over to write something.The weather was only in May, and she couldn't wait to show off her calves, one leg folded on top of the other, with high heels hooked on the toes, shaking gently with the beat.

She is very feminine.Because of this, I doubt that such a person is suitable to be a teacher for high school boys?I totally understand what those teenage boys were thinking when they saw the plump white calves of their dear physics teacher.You don't even need a very short skirt, the curved instep and the blue blood vessels on the skin are enough to make boys imagine.

I can hardly imagine Butcher being a part of her reverie - there are kids who get into trouble for the attention of their pretty teachers, would Butcher do that?

I think it's scarier than Butcher masturbating to my picture.

She turned her head suddenly, looked at me standing at the door, was stunned for a moment, put her legs down quickly, pushed aside the chair and stood up, and asked tentatively, "...Mr. Sedes?"

"Yes, it's me," I said.

It was only when I opened my mouth that I realized that my voice was so difficult. Maybe the expression on my face at that time was also ugly. I don’t know why it happened.Susan poured me a cup of hot water, and I was led to sit down by her. When I saw the cleavage extending under her clothes when she bent over, I forgot to say thank you for a moment.

"I'm not sure if you've noticed..." Susan said, "It's actually not a big deal. I'm sorry to ask Butcher to call you here."

She talked for a long time without telling me what the topic was, and I became a little impatient.However, this kind of woman is probably the stunner that men generally like. They don't know what they want or don't want, and it's hard to say no.

"So what's the matter?"

"I was so pissed off," she said. "Butcher was always a good student and I knew he was a shy guy. But on Friday afternoon he got into a fight with a classmate, and he actually beat that classmate up." .I asked him why, and he didn't say a word, just looked at me - like I did something wrong. I had to tell him that if I didn't explain it to me, I'm afraid I would have to punish him according to the rules... "

"Wait a minute," I interrupted impatiently, "what punishment? I, Butcher's real father, never taught him a lesson."

Susan said, "Don't worry, Mr. Siders. Sometimes we have to threaten the children with consequences. If Butcher doesn't want to communicate with me, I can't know what happened, and it's hard to make a fair decision." judge."

"Threat." I almost fainted.

I said, "Butcher came home and told me everything. That day—Friday afternoon, his classmate tore up his homework and laughed at him for being an orphan without a mother. My ex-wife passed away early and lost her I haven't remarried since then."

Susan opened her eyes slightly in surprise: "I don't know..."

"Because you're not from the town," I interrupted, and asked her, "like that, how would you like Butcher to retell it to you?"

I put on my coat and turned around to leave, followed by the sound of high-heeled shoes "tuk-tuk".

Sitting in the carriage later, I thought back to this extremely brief conversation and realized that I had barely given Susan a chance to speak, but so what?I'm gone anyway.

After returning home, Butcher took the initiative to welcome me and opened the door. I noticed that his eyes, light blue like glass beads, flashed with anxiety.Butcher was a distressed kid.His teacher doesn't understand him at all, and he has to go to school tomorrow, even if I tell him he can ask for leave, he will still carry his schoolbag.

I suddenly thought, am I making him unable to make friends?Would he want a new mother?Sometimes I think he does need a mother, but sometimes, and I hope most of the time, I'm enough for him.

I opened the window and smoked a cigarette, while Butcher was circling around me like a bewildered little animal, making a little movement to get my attention, and showing off when I looked at him. Very innocent expression.

I threw the cigarette butt out the window, turned to him and said, "Your teacher is a bitch."

Butcher froze for a moment, then burst out laughing.

Despite what I said, but because he didn't hear any specific ups and downs from me, Butcher still looked very worried, and kept asking around to find out what exactly I went through.At night, he made excuses to go to bed with me. I don't know when he upgraded from being afraid of thunder to being afraid of rain, but my bed is not completely unable to sleep two people.

"Come closer to me," I said.

I touched his soft black curly hair, the warm breath of the young man made me feel like I was next to the fireplace, I couldn't help but want to chase this warm breath, and cowardly stopped at that vitality and my aging gap between.I'm afraid there's a stench on my breath that I don't notice, like the old men I smell when I pass by.I started feeling nauseous again, like I had a goldfish in my mouth.

"Did I upset you, Sue?" Butcher asked in a low voice.

"No, no, no," I said, sighing, "you're my good boy, always will be."

"Why did you say that suddenly?" In the darkness, his soft laughter wiped away all my pain.I closed my eyes, breathing gradually, and in the mist, a soft kiss landed on the corner of my mouth.

Needless to say, this must have been just an imaginary kiss.This is all I can get, and this is all I can afford.

I really hope that time will always stay in the gap between reality and sleep, I secretly pray.