As the variations enter the Tocata-style, serene and gentle key, Dr. Hopkins slows down, and he walks into memory and reflection as if he were barefoot into the waters that flood the stone embankment...... His distinctly slender fingers were not even as hard as a falling feather on the keys, and at last he was caressing them like his son's shoulders and back—he seemed to have something on his mind—Sasha thought, he lowered his head slightly, and Hopkins pricked up his fingertips to comb his hair, which had been tossed by the sea breeze, as patiently and carefully as a seabird combed its young feathers. Sasha's hair is soft and thick, the surface is dry, but the inside still has a cold dampness. Hopkins lifted his little finger and rubbed the back of his bouncy ear, which was also wet and cold.

Old Andreana often complained that the boys would never remember or would rather dry their hair with a hair dryer or with a towel, and that they would rather run around with a ball of seaweed freshly fished out of the water, throwing droplets of water everywhere, wetting and crumpling pillows and sheets, and only when they were most forced to do so (such as a mother or sister standing in front of them with a rolling pin) would they grin and reluctantly pick up whatever they wanted and snort on their heads—before coming to Poseidon Island, Little Sasha would remember to come to Daddy with a towel and let Daddy dry his hair slowly and carefully, yes, it was a long time ago......

"Oh, Sasha," Dr. Hopkins said thoughtfully, "Seriously, you've made Daddy a little sad. ”

They all stopped moving, the harpsichord was silent, and Sasha turned his head and furrowed his eyebrows sternly, but before he could say anything, Hopkins gently grabbed him by the shoulders and urged him to get up and go back into the room.

Sasha sat on a linen-covered three-legged stool, and Hopkins completely dried his hair — using a hair dryer, Sasha squinted in the mirror, his hair was blown so fluffy that it looked like a tumbleweed.

"Before you go to bed," Hopkins said, "do you want anything else to eat?" ”

It has to be said that Chegalle was a thoughtful and attentive man, and in his new mansion he not only left Hopkins and his son two spacious and bright suites, but also managed to add a sophisticated and functional old-fashioned kitchen nearby – a thing that Hopkins, who was both a gourmand and a good cook, was very happy with. He hadn't eaten dinner yet, and Sasha had gone with Beelzebub to old Andreana before he came up and had fetched a large portion of the meat pie and noodles, but, as we know, for a thirteen-year-old boy there was never too much to eat.

Hopkins stood in the small and delicate kitchen, the kitchen was stuffed full, the kitchen knives were stuck in the knife holders, each one shining like ice cream, the three sizes of frying pans hung face up on the wall, like three dark caves, a desk next to the wall, made of old oak, smooth as a piece of fat, with a fist-thick cutting board, stirrers, spoons, funnels, knives and forks of all kinds were safely gathered in a chunky jar of stoneware, The white dishes were neatly arranged on the shelves on the wall, and in front of the wall opposite them was a huge old-fashioned refrigerator, rounded at the corners, with a large resistor on top of it, which stored an abundance of ingredients. In addition, unlike the average kitchen, there is an aquarium with a capacity of about 300 liters, just like any other aquarium, with outlets, pumps, lamps, calcium reactors, protein mistlets, and automatic feeding tubes, and there are no corals, sea fish, or anything else strange - creatures reflected in the somewhat eerie lights under the influence of the rippling water light are crawling slowly on the gray sea sand - two greenstone lobsters, one about a pound and a half, The other is about two pounds.

If it was just Hopkins' dinner alone, he would probably have picked the smaller one, but now he has his son...... He looked at the lobster for a moment, then looked away.

Dice and shred the bread, tomatoes, cucumbers, onions and lettuce, mix with olive oil and vinegar; Pork spine is cut into strips, thinly sliced ham is wrapped and fried with minced garlic and celery, then simmered in white sour wine and chicken broth, served with pork sausage and mashed potatoes; This is followed by a seafood soup of white fish, shrimp and crab with bay leaves, white wine and saffron soaked in salt water. The dessert is a sweet pancake made of egg yolk and thick cream, which is very firm and stirs up hot air when poured on a plate, and is made in the shape of a small square with maple syrup.

These dishes are delicious, quick to make, and most importantly, more suitable for the taste of a developing teenager than lobster.

Sasha had eaten with pleasure, he had swallowed a large piece of meat pie and a plate of noodles sprinkled with cheese crumbs an hour earlier, but now he felt like everything he had eaten was in vain, his stomach empty and in desperate need of it.

Anthony. Hopkins eats very little, and while he's the one who hasn't eaten dinner, he's more willing to use his eyes instead of his mouth to chew on what really fills him — his children.

Dr. Hopkins once gave his wife (who was then a federal agent Katherine, not Katherine). Hopkins described his idea, which originated from Stephen Hawking's theory of cosmic reversal: that the universe will stop expanding, shrink again, converge will reverse, time will turn back, the broken glass will return to its original state, and his little sister Sasha, who was killed and eaten by fugitive soldiers at the age of six, will be resurrected - he is convinced of this, and Catherine supports this idea, which leads to something new - she believes that Anthony . There is also a good thing about Hopkins, the same place as Sasha, Sasha can be resurrected, resurrected in her, but she will also have a part of Hopkins.

Her words were confirmed in the years that followed, like the apostle's apostle of a loud noise, that Sasha was born, that he had everything that Hopkins had expected, that Sasha was perfectly reborn in him, but that at some point, Hopkins could still see the parts associated with Anthony and Catherine, and even trace of Catherine's father and grandmother.

When Sasha was six years old, Hopkins was in an unimaginable panic, because the previous Sasha had died at the age of six, and he often stayed up all night watching Sasha until daylight.

Sasha didn't die, he grew up healthy, Hopkins was happy and a little apprehensive, the child changed almost day after day, from voice to height, from teeth to testicles/pills, what would he become? Will something sinister sneak into it and expel those parts that belong to Sasha? If so, what should he do to get them back? And if it can't be recovered, then the body that exists in the world is not the Sasha he expected. What about Hopkins? Luckily, these problems didn't bother Anthony for long. Hopkins, his hopes were not disappointed, Sasha continued all the good habits and emotions that the previous Sasha could have, he was smart and beautiful, healthy and happy, he had relatives, friends, knew how to enjoy the fresh air and sunshine wantonly, as well as the blue waters, the green olive groves, the happiness that Hopkins's little sister Sasha could not get was inherited and continued by him.

Now it was himself who was biting Hopkins' soul like a viper, his intellect telling him to do it, and his emotions fearing that his actions would bring about devastating and irreversible change.

He walked into the palace of memory, where Catherine was still in her old place, curled up gracefully in the round wicker chair, the deadly crossbow bolt still stuck in her hair, swinging to and fro with her movements, like a hairpin of a special shape.

"If Sasha grew up," Hopkins asked, "would you be willing to teach him how to use a gun?" ”

"Of course," replied Catherine, a trail of dark red blood running down her cheek and down her chin and down her neck, and she stretched out her fingers to wipe it away, smearing rouge like that, "the world is too dangerous, and he must know how to protect himself." ”

"And what if he kills?" Hopkins said, "Do you think Sasha kills?" ”

"Why not," repeated Catherine, straightening her legs, "I hope he will," she pondered for a moment, "you see," she made a pull of the trigger, "if he had killed the deserters first, would he not have been eaten?" ”

Hopkins felt that there was some truth to her words.

"You've killed," continued Catherine, "I've killed too, but I've never thought it was wrong - I remember how I had pierced the badge and the stinking black heart that was hidden behind it, he was a law enforcer, but he worked for criminals, and I killed him, before he shot me—who could blame me, my dad couldn't, he was just too slow to draw his gun to be killed by two thugs...... I saved myself and I saved you, so no one can condemn me with this, not even God. She made a solemn gesture: "If I were still alive, I would teach him to shoot, and I would teach him to shoot before anyone else." ”

"Sasha has to live, live well."

"Do what you want." She concluded, "That's not a wrong thing. ”

……

Anthony. By the time Hopkins came to his senses, Sasha had already finished eating, and he had even washed the dishes and brushed his teeth.

"Come here," Hopkins said, "and let me see your teeth." ”

A slightly cold finger reached into the sandy mouth, and Hopkins examined each tooth very closely, gently squeezing and shaking them, each one fine, the molars, the molars, the front teeth, and the sharp canines.

"Do something for me," Hopkins said, "son." ”

(To be continued)