Mr. Stryff's mind didn't dwell too much on Kemira and her paintings, perhaps there was something about this miserable creature stuck between body and soul, and there was something about it that deserved to be studied and savored, but he couldn't find the desire to her, kill her, or eat her—ten years ago, perhaps, but not now—to be precise, he had never had the kind of unusual or even terrifying appetite that he had ever had when he was around him.

The ghouls stuck out from between their teeth with the tip of their thin, red tongues, sniffing the air like snakes, the late-blooming hibiscus flowers, the travertine courtyard seats, the corrosive smell of rain-soaked sycamores, the rubber and asphalt running tracks and playgrounds, and the rust of metal objects in the humid air, how they resembled the smell of human blood - and the smell of frankincense and sweat from Sasha's body, which Streiff did not follow the laws of the roadPutting the child in the back seat and putting on a seat belt, he let Sasha sit in the front seat, covered with a small blanket, the child quickly took a nap in the clean and warm car, his little golden-brown head was wet, and Stryff could occasionally see a small puff of his cheek, which was unconsciously licking his teeth with his tongue.

The short nap ended in front of the garage door of the Henry family, as we said earlier, the house that Stryff had purchased had no garage and he had to park his car elsewhere, and the Henry family was one of the closest neighbors to Stryff, and they were willing to provide a free parking space for their child's teacher, where Stryff would store his car every day, and then walk three miles back to his house with Sasha.

"Good evening." Mrs. Henry stood in front of her Rose, greeting Stryff and Sasha kindly, her plastic gloves on, and the black hose hanging from her hips, and the water gurgling out of it, accumulating into a makeshift puddle on the lawn.

"Good evening." Streiff said, keenly aware of what seemed to be different from the usual today, were the two dogs of the Henry family, both mongrels, said to be a cross of Labrador and Bull Terrier, who had finely inherited all the inferiorities of their parents, except for their large bodies and a passion that was unbearable for man—they had a penchant to burrow into the crotch of everyone they saw, sniffing and licking feverishly, arching upwards, trying again and again to carry them on their backs, And the poor guests would probably have fallen headlong on the porch or on the grass, if they hadn't fled from the front yard of Henry's house with a frantic scream...... If it weren't for the fact that ghouls always have something in their bodies that makes them fearful, it would have been difficult for Streiff to escape this awkward welcome ritual - even then, they would have listened to the slight roar and brakes of the Chevrolet waiting for Stryff in the driveway every afternoon, and rushed out to greet him.

Mrs. Henry soon noticed this, her lips lengthened on her cheeks: "Are you looking for those two mischievous devils?" She said with a smile, obviously glad that someone was as much concerned as she was about the two big dogs that were a combination of lust/erotic and lunatics: "They're squeezing the anal glands, and God willing, they've finally found a veterinarian with a bit of skill, and the old ones were always clumsy and made them bark...... Would you like to take a look? It's okay, I don't think they're too shy, you're kind of an old friend," she chuckled, "right next to the pool." ”

Streiff blinked, he wrapped the sand a little tighter, "Wow," he said, "we'll go and have a look." ”

They almost only made a small detour to smell the stinking smell, Streiff didn't come closer, the vet and the dog were on the other side of the pool, the vet was very young, flaxen hair and the animal tooth pendant on his chest glittered in the setting sun, he was engrossed in observing the fart/strand of a large dog, pulling its slender tail with one hand, and rhythmically squeezing the fur on both sides of the anus with the other, Streiff could hear him shouting, "One-two, one-two, one-two!" Hey, okay, good job. I don't know if I'm complimenting myself or the ugly dog, but maybe it's really good, because Stryff can see that a lot of grayish-yellow secretions have piled up on the napkins underneath the shit/thighs, like human snot.

"Look, it's a big one." Mrs. Henry lamented, "The veterinarians were not as competent as this lad. ”

"Indeed." Streiff said that he paid attention to the eyes, belly and tail of the big dog and found that it was in a state of fear, contrary to the previous veterinarians, who were always terrified in the presence of these two stubborn and violent animals, who had never bitten anyone, but who dared to move their heads and tails would have to be prepared to be baptized by the impact of giant skulls, and they also knew how to gently bite people's feet, drag them down, and then excrete on their faces.

"Oh, are you leaving?" Mrs. Henry said, "Perhaps you would like to stay a little longer so that I may introduce you to our new veterinarian?" I've heard that you also have a herd of bull terriers, and you need a veterinarian, especially if you know how to deal with these little cuties. ”

"Ah, you're right," replied Stlev politely, "but we've known him, and his name is Selenos. Somitre. Indeed, he is very good at dealing with animals, and I think I will contact him as soon as possible. ”

"That's wonderful," said Mrs. Henry, "in that case, I won't keep you—perhaps I should have gone home sooner," she lowered her voice suddenly, "Mr. Steve, I was negligent just now, and you see, I heard it on the radio, and a body was fished out of the river two days ago...... It's disgusting, it's headless. She said worriedly, "It's been a lot of trouble here lately, poor Mr. Humbert, and this nameless man—well, I didn't hear that the gentleman was missing, and I hope he wasn't anyone I knew." God bless you. ”

She drew a cross on her chest in a dignified manner.

***

There are two ways to get home, and the Striffs can walk back along the sidewalks on either side of the asphalt driveway, or they can choose to walk through nearly one-fifth of the Marina Wetland Park.

There was originally this old road that could run through almost the entire park in the wetland, and the roadbed below was very solid and paved with stone slabs, but after hundreds of years, without consistent maintenance, many places sank in the filthy ponds of the swamp, and later the city government renovated the road, and they carefully added side roads, set up road signs, and erected bridges in the sunken places, so as not to destroy the original landscape of the wetland and not let people easily get lost in it or fall into the swamp. Many people are willing to walk in it often, breathing in the moist and fresh air while admiring the thousands of trees, flowers, insects and animals in the wetlands.

The Stryffs often choose to walk through the wetlands, which at times are very imaginary to the Amazon jungle they have spent years in, and sometimes quite the opposite, which is comforting and amusing, and Streiff often picks berries as he walks through the lush reeds, willows, and bushes – on top of the dense sphagnum moss communities there are bound to be dense high-bush blueberries, sometimes no more than a cubit in circumference, sometimes hundreds of feet long, The first fruit appears at the end of May and peaks in the first days of August, but at the end of September you can still find a handful or two of vigorous blue fruit with frosting, which are not very sweet and have a strong sour taste, but the flesh is so thick that Streiff will add it to the beef, which will become extraordinarily tender and juicy; There is another blueberry that grows with the lingonberry, which is much sweeter and much smaller than the previous relative, and hangs in large bunches on the branches, and the thatchberry, which is dark and inconspicuous, and has no aroma, but the fruit is full of grains and tastes very good, and the problem is that you have to pick them before the birds and mice, and it is only a matter of one night that a clump of three kilograms of thatch berries disappears.

There aren't many people in the wetlands at dusk, but today the Streves always seem to encounter some unexpected characters.

"Mr. Steve," called them cheerfully to Mr. Henry, who stood on the edge of a swamp with the rumbling of the pumping machine and his son watching with interest from the edge of the bridge. ”

"Good evening." Streiff replied politely, and he stopped, looked left and right, and saw that Anne. . . Kent's grave was only fifty feet away: "What are you doing?" Mr. Henry. He asked in a calm tone.

"A gentleman has lost his watch here." Mr. Henry replied, "He was willing to pay five hundred dollars for this memorable bauble, so I got two pumps." ”

"Aren't all the swamps connected here?"

"No, not exactly," said Mr. Henry, pointing to the rapidly descending water, "this is not the case. The pump made a clangling sound, and he jerked his head down as if to jump, his eyes fixed on the water for a moment, the mud was boiling, and he suddenly whistled, "We're lucky, Mr. Striff, we can add a big dish to our dinner to-day." He pointed a bright searchlight with its own generator at a certain part of the swamp: "Look at those little tails!" He happily shouted, "Eel! At least twenty! ”

"I'm just afraid." Striff said.

Mr. Henry nimbly took out the net and the long processed harpoon from behind the pump: "Fortunately I was prepared," and he jumped dangerously from branch to root, and finally found a good position.

The long harpoon stabbed down, and the little tails tossed even harder, but the harpoon was stuck in something, and Mr. Henry tried several times without success, and his face became golden in the light, and his face was covered with oil and sweat, "It's stuck!" He shouted, and he awkwardly rose from the branch and pulled out a pair of rubber gloves from his trouser pocket, which were long and fluorescent yellow up to his armpits. He lay down again, this time giving up the harpoon and instead plunging his arm straight into the mire, the pump still working, the eel's writhing body flickering on the water.

"Got it!" Mr. Henry shouted, grabbing the branch above his head and pulling himself up with all his might: "Good fellow, it's too heavy! ”

It was a sparkling, black thing that trembled at the end of his arm.

Henry's son threw himself on the railing, and Sasha walked over and pulled his classmate away, and the boy was dissatisfied, but he was surprised to find that the little boy who was a head shorter than him was so strong that he couldn't move at all.

The thing was gradually exposed to the light, and several small blue-gray eels fell into the water from above.

The muddy water soon cleared up, and everyone could see what it was—a misshapen dog's head, very large, gray-black fur clinging to the massive skull, its jaw torn open to reveal the strange red of salmon flesh, and the mandible, the gums, and the yellow teeth at least the length of an adult's palm, and its only small neck, which was black and hollow, and the eel's tail was wrapped around the drooping trachea, blood vessels, and half of the vertebrae, and Mr. Henry's fingers were stuck in its eye sockets, an eyeball driven out by a human finger and hanging slippery in front of the tan nose.

Mr. Henry's son vomited violently.

(To be continued)