"... One punch... Only one punch blows the sandbags up!"There are whispers of surprise behind me, and I turn around. Many people have surprises on their faces that I have expected. My face is very indifferent. I stoop and pick up the glove on the ground. Then I slowly come over and give it back to that young man.
He stares at me, and suddenly a word jumps out of his mouth.
"You can punch so hard without warming up?"
His remark immediately reminds the others, and as a result, the surprise on everyone"s face deepened.
As everyone who has ever punched knows, punching hard is skillful. If we do a more detailed statistics, we will find that in all professional boxing compet.i.tions, the general boxers with heavy punches to knock down the opponent players are rarely in the first round.
Why? Because in the first round, the boxers are testing each other. More importantly, they should adjust their body to their best conditions, strengths and speeds. Only when the body is active can the strongest punch be produced in the best condition!
In professional basketball matches, players usually have to wait for several shots to find the best feel, which is the same truth.
I used the abstruse principle of fighting. When I was punching, I mobilized the strength of my whole body. Only when my waist, legs and arms worked at the same time, could I blow the sandbag with one punch.
The young man stares at me, his eyes no longer so indifferent, but with a little moxibustion heat! He slowly takes over the glove. Looking at it, suddenly there"s a strange look flashing in his eyes. He throws the glove on the ground, grits his teeth and says, "I will not wear this thing too in the future."
"Ha ha ha ha..." Standing behind, Papa 8 suddenly laughs loudly. He comes over and pats me on the shoulder, smiling and says gently, "Little 5, your fighting skill is well practiced. It"s the real good skill. Hmm, now I understand why that fat fellow introduced you. I"ll ask someone to teach you how to practice guns, and then you"ll be a good horse! "
Honestly. A trace of confusion flashed through my mind. There are more of... Well, it"s a bit more of hidden annoyances.
A good horse?
I understand. Maybe he means I"ll be a very good fighter, or a very good head horse.
But, do I still have to rely on fighting to earn the future?
This used to be the case at home, but now it"s still the same abroad?
I don"t show anything unusual on my face. After all, I"m new here, and I"m not familiar with this place, so I can"t make any demands. At least now I can settle down here, which is what I need most at present.
Live in the present, first look at the present.
Then Papa 8 finds a middle-aged man in the group, looks very steady, and says to him, "Arrange a room for him." Then he looks at me and says, "Little 5, you live with them first."
He does not say the arrangment in the future. I don"t ask either, just nod.
The middle-aged man seems to be the leader of these men here, big and powerful. Looking at his walking posture, he should be in the army before. He looks at me with some admiration in his eyes and says with a smile, "Come with me, young man. Find you a place to live. Silo, he"ll live with you."
Within his shouts, I hear a slightly surprised voice: "Hmm? All right!"
I find that it is so coincidental that Silo happens to be the young man. He is still staring at the sandbag that I blew up.
The middle-aged man thinks about it, grins and says, "By the way, do you have any further questions?"
I scratch my back of the head and give him a bitter smile: "Hmm... Yes, there are... When do we eat dinner? I"m hungry! To tell you the truth, I just jumped out of the boat and landed two hours ago. I"ve been floating on the sea for more than half a month. Now my feet are still soft!"
My remarks make everyone laugh. The atmosphere here is good, these are very straightforward men, everyone are laughing for a while and have come up to say h.e.l.lo to me, welcome me to join. Papa 8 leaves directly.
I said h.e.l.lo to more than a dozen people, and I can"t remember so many names at a time, just remember the name of the young man who will live with me. His name is Silo. It"s a strange name.
Then I finally got the food. A big bowl of rice covers with two pieces of very fat red-roasted pork, very greasy, bite off full mouth oil, teeth full of meat fragrance! In addition, there are several green vegetables, which are just fried and hot.
I just sit on the floor of the gym, grab the bowl and eat. The rice is a little hard and the food tastes a little light, but I eat it very sweet.
As I"m eating, I can"t help crying inside my heart. G.o.d sees pity! I thought myself is about dead many times when I drank rainwater and breeze on the sea. Now I can eat the rice and meat again.
A bowl of rice, I have not wasted a grain, after eating, but also want to lick the plate.
The middle-aged man looks at me and sighs, "Come on, you looks thin. How can you eat like a hungry tiger?"
I grin bitterly: "Hungry for several days, no food in my stomach..." Then I"m ashamed to ask him, "Is there more?"
"No." The middle-aged man apologizes: "There"s no food in the kitchen and dinner hasn"t been cooked yet. These are the rest of the lunch. We"ll fill you up in the evening!"
I laugh and stand up. I returned the bowl to him. Then I pat my stomach and sigh, "Stomach, stomach, we can"t imagine we can stay up till the day of eat meal again!"
Middle-aged man has some doubts, looking at general feeling does not seem to pretend. He can"t help frowning: "Is it so hard to stowaway now? Nothing to eat on board?"
I shake my head: "I don"t know. But I met pirates halfway, then got on a life raft and floated for days without food."
Speaking of this, I think of Phoenix. Such a strange woman, I can"t help feeling a little pain and sad in my heart.
Middle-aged man wants to ask more questions. Silo has already packed up his things. He put on his jacket and trousers, also the garage overalls, but it"s clean: "Let"s go. I"ll take you to where we live."
I follow Silo out, walk through the garage. I just find out that the garage is Papa 8"s private industry.
According to Silo, this is the largest garage in Vancouver, and everyone here is "our own man".
Eat, wear and live, basically Papa 8 takes all these costs and we are free of charge. He"s very nice to his staff. Silo jokes: "Your salary can be saved all! Basically you don"t have to spend any penny. But if you want to find a woman, you have to pay for it yourself."
After a pause, he hesitates for a moment and looks at me. "You"re new here. I can take you around. Well, there"s really nothing near here. It"s quite remote and there"s no commercial area nearby. But if you want to look for a woman, you can go to Hestin Street, where there are prost.i.tutes!" Look at me. He has a bad smile on his face: "Do you want it?"
"Thank you. I don"t need women." I politely vetoe, and then hesitate for a moment:" Is there a convenience store near here? I want to buy cigarettes."
Silo immediately pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and hands it to me. I look at it. It"s a famous brand cigarette in hometown! It"s rare to see such a thing abroad!
"Foreign cigarettes are mixed, we can not get used to smoking. This is much better. I brought it from the crew. They smuggled. You take it first."
I take it with a smile.
When he talks about the crew, don"t know why. I immediately remember the lovely b.a.s.t.a.r.d, Captain Wick, who took two large bags of dollars from me.
I live in a room with Silo. We live in a small building on the street next to the garage.
As soon as I enter the small building, I feel a little intimate at once. Really!
It"s like dormitories in schools or factories. There are three floors, each with a long corridor and many rooms on both sides.
"A brother in my room went to Toronto, just in time for you to live." Silo seems to be very enthusiastic to me. I guess it"s probably because of the shock effect of my punch.
There"s nothing to say in the room. It"s messy and dirty. There are cigarette b.u.t.ts in the corner. There are dirty underwears on the sofa. The room is not big, with two beds, a small living room outside, a few dumbbells, and a very old TV.
To my surprise, there"s an old record player here! It"s a very old-fashioned, LP record player!
I look at Silo in surprise. He"s smiling and shows his white teeth, which have not been stained with nicotine. "This is mine. I like this stuff."
I put my bag on my bed without collect. I have nothing to collect anyway. I"m interested to see Silo fiddling with his record player. I ask him: "Do you really like this? Who still uses this nowadays?"
Silo suddenly looks a little serious. He gives me a deep look and says in a low tone, "This is the only thing my parents left me! This is my father"s. He liked it best in his life."
"You... You escaped here, too? Or are you are the local?"
"I was born here." Silo smiles, and he"s a handsome, tall, white man, but his eyes are somewhat melancholy:"My father came to Canada at the same time with Papa 8, but he died early."
I"m silent and don"t know how to say nothing.
Silo smiles brilliantly and blinking suddenly. "Want to hear something interesting?"
"Well?"
He turns out the record player, pushes the window open, adjusts and points the loudspeaker at the street outside the window, and turns the volume to the max!
In a few moments, the loudspeaker of the record player lets out very vigorous and heroic music!
Then a very pleasant and full baritone begins to recite in a tone full of infinite affection.
...
I"m shocked!
It"s an antique music poem recitation record!
So on this sunny afternoon, music poems are recited from one of the streets of Vancouver.