Squeak, squeak, squeak.

Old Andreana sat in the rocking chair, swaying slowly and weakly, the dark brown wood shimmering with the grease of men and pigs, and of sheep and fish, and from the last tenon it was hammered - it was often anointed, and it was placed in the kitchen, in the hallway, in the bedroom, in the courtyard, and old Andreana carried it wherever she went, and she faithfully fulfilled her obligations, but it could only be like this, it could only be like this, too old, too old, It can't shake as light and quiet as it did half a century ago, it's too old, and old Andreana is older than it, it's her engagement gift, her fiancé, a lean and swarthy Poseidon Island young man who has only seen her three times before marriage, which is a bit too much, but who made Andreana the youngest and most favored daughter, the first time she got a silk turban, red like her lips, the second time this chair, made of olive wood, made by the young man himself, The third time was a gold ring, and the young man had come to say goodbye, he was going to work on the western continent, and together with her brother, he promised to bring his future wife a whole set of gold jewelry, earrings, bracelets, necklaces, and perhaps gems and diamonds.

He went and never came back, because someone attacked the car they used to smuggle olive oil, the car overturned, it caught fire, Andreana's brother was killed instantly, the young man was crushed, no one could help him climb out, one of his friends gave him a shot so that he wouldn't be burned alive, so they couldn't even bring back his body.

They built him a hollow tomb on Poseidon Island, in which he kept a full suit of his clothes and trousers, and the red silk turban, Andreana tasted the bitter fruit of Poseidon Island before many Poseidon Island women, and she wore the gold ring on her hand. Sitting in that chair, she learned to crochet, and all day long, she no longer accepted the courtship of the young man, but devoted all her energy and life to the "Don" at that time.

At that time, Chegalle was a bare-bottomed wild boy, no different from Beelzebub now.

She hooks and hooks, weaves and weaves. She didn't know how much she had knitted. She weaves everything, peony cushions, hexagonal headscarves and shawls. Tea coasters, small and large bags, slippers, sofa towels. Chair cushions, carpets. Toy...... There are also all sorts of things you can't imagine, dressed in beads, mixed with silk threads and ribbons, colorful. The small one can be hidden in the palm of her hand, and the large one can cover an entire car, and she weaves it for herself. Also weave for others, "Don". His sons, Chegalles, Meyare's, Beelzebub's, Peppi's, Bep's, Amp's, Father's, Hopkins'...... She was so fast, she didn't hold crochet for less than half as long as other women, and she knitted twice as much.

She was going to weave a seaweed-green hat for Beelzebub, the pagoda pattern, she didn't know how much he would have left, but at least, she had kept his clothes, which could be placed on top of that suit.

The corridor was silent, both the Poseidon Island people and those Chegalle had found elsewhere, they had been controlled or deceived, and the young men and Pepi who might have leaned towards Beelzebub had been sent to the Western Continent, and the Hopkins father and son were also in the Western Continent, and she only needed one night to wait until the dark and gloomy sky was lit up again, and the matter was a foregone conclusion.

Chegalle will also have children.

There will be children too.

A healthy mother, with an orthodox mother who swore to God, a boy born to a girl from the island of Poseidon was better than Beelzebub.

She wound the green velvet thread around the crochet needle and began to make a fuss for Beelzebub. Chegalle prayed.

***

Sasha stopped, and in the split second he was almost discovered.

In the movie, the dreammaker goes about his work in his dreams, but in reality, Dr. Hopkins prefers to enter someone's mind when he is awake - "Thought is not limited by time and space, how fast and strong it can be, I don't know, it can only be measured is a nerve reflex, so it is more dangerous when the intrusive person falls asleep than when he is awake, because he is." At home, it's easy to see that something is wrong, but not necessarily when he's awake, because his attention is drawn to something else, and his consciousness is floating at the top of the world, operating things that are more important than boring itinerant patrols (recalling the past or thinking about the future), such as games,* or eating heavily, when the very busy mind doesn't notice what's going on inside or what's going on inside - unless something reminds it (a wedding anniversary, or an exam). The consciousness will run back here in a panic and rummage through the memory.

The timing of the sand selection was hurried but appropriate, and weaving was not a job for distraction. Old Andreana had to be preoccupied to keep her fingers from hooking, but when she thought of Beelzebub, she unconsciously touched the memory of the past, Beelzebub's mother, the main consciousness flickered by not far from Sasha, and when she pulled up the image, countless dregs of memory fragments were scattered around it, and their fluctuations almost passed through the young intruder.

A piece of scum floated slowly in front of Sasha, it was a report card, rolled up, and the scores on it were beautiful, and they belonged to the ...... Hopkins.

The boy was a little surprised, because the image of the report card was very detailed, the teacher's crooked signature, the handwritten red score, the texture of the paper, the tiny creases, the crackling sound, the silky touch made it look like a real thing—a fourth-grade thing. Then he noticed that among the countless memories there were also things that belonged to him, and there were many, including small biscuits with chili peppers—Sasha thought that in old Andreana's mind, he was just one of Beelzebub's accessories, and many people on Poseidon Island thought so.

But he exists alone in the world of old Andreana.

Sasha left that report card in its place, and now was not the time for hesitation and emotion—he walked along the memories, which were like wildflowers on the side of the road that showed him the way, guided him to the deepest depths, and where the most sincere emotions and ideals were stored.

The further you go in, the thicker the white "dough" becomes, and the outlines of the components become clearer, they are not thick fog or gelatinous things, they are one after another so slender that they cannot be seen by the naked eye, they can only be touched by feeling, they are entangled, coiled together, wrapped around each other, old Andreana's memories are like beads dotted on the thread, large and small, colorful.

What's the most important thing? Himself, Beelzebub, of course this is impossible, but what about Chegall? Old Andreana looked at him as if he were his own brother, but the deeper he went, the less Chegalle remembered, no, to be exact, Sasha. The fewer memories Hopkins recognized, strange utensils, strange letters, strange photographs—a handsome young man, dark-skinned, playfully looking at the camera, and then, another photo, a family, father, mother, grandmother, grandfather, brother, and a girl, it was Andreana.

Can you go any further?

Silk threads wrapped around Sasha's feet, calves, knees, thighs, waist, arms, chest, neck, he felt suffocated, pressure came from everywhere in the outside world, he was wrapped, but he knew he was not far from his destination.

"Let me see," he whispered to an unknown being, "just a glance." ”

The force let out a contemptuous mock, but it complied, the silvery, tiny particles diffusely spreading, the threads couldn't grasp the sand, and he closed his eyes—he didn't really need to see with his eyes in the first place, as I said before, this was four-dimensional.

He found it.

***

Squeak, squeak, squeak.

The rocking chair rang, it had been used for so many years, but it seemed that it could continue to be used, just like old Andreana, who fed two "Dons", one "Don" heir, and another "Don" heir.

Chegal survived, became young and healthy, married a Poseidon girl whose father and brother were members of the family, and had three sons, the eldest son inherited his business, and the second son completed Beelzebub's unfinished education and became a good man of innocence, he became a councillor, a governor, and later a president, and the third son entered the army, and he would become a general.

Chegaral's eldest son fulfilled the expectations of the people of Poseidon Island for nearly a hundred years, and the children of Poseidon Island could finally stop being accompanied by guns and knives, and they became naïve and dull, just like those children of the Western Continent, pure and close to cruel - including his children, who had been married for a long time, the eldest boy went to school in the Western Continent, and the youngest child was still learning to walk.

She checked her basket of velvet, which was covered with seaweed-green yarn mixed with silver threads, what did she want to weave? A hat? To whom? To that little bastard who always sneaks into his kitchen to steal pies and grapes? Who's that? How many children are they? The third or the fourth? Or the firstborn before that firstborn? He was always dark and smooth, with a demonic name, and the eyes that looked at him were full of love and trust.

The sun shone in through the window at the end of the hallway, faint, but warm, and she wanted to doze off.

Why don't you sleep, everything is so good, so perfect, her tasks on earth have been completed.

It's just that hat, she hasn't finished knitting that hat yet.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, "Beelzebub." ”

(To be continued)

Upcoming Chapters:

- "Now it's your job," Anthony said. Hopkins said, "Beelzebub, it's just you." ”

- "Those people got their wish," said Pepi, with a raging fire reflected in his little eyes, "They want a brutal and ferocious 'Don,' and they have." ”

- "It was just an accident! ”

It's back, and if nothing else, this chapter is tomorrow. (To be continued)