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Chapter 1 The House of Beasts
With the end of the Dogwood Festival, Atlanta's 2003 spring carnival has officially come to an end.
In a community in the outer satellite city of Marietta, Martin Davis crooked his legs into the living room, protesting with pain in his injured knee.
He has only been in North America for a week and is still getting used to it.
There are two yellowed posters stuck on the bare wooden wall of the living room.
One is the cover of a certain edition of "Gone with the Wind".
The other picture is the T1000 in "Terminator 2".
Martin sat on the cloth sofa, his nose tickled by the flying dust. The sneeze that was about to break out was shattered by a hard object poking his butt.
The rusty broken spring breaks through the discolored sponge and non-woven fabric.
Martin cursed and moved his buttocks to sit on the other side. The damaged sponge cushion collapsed into a pit and was as soft as a certain Dany's large balloon, covering the key positions.
He suddenly felt heartache.
Since it is a balloon, the future is even more difficult to survive.
Martin has been drifting across the country for many years, honing his acting skills step by step, learning related abilities, and even worked as a substitute for a few years. Finally, he relied on sharpening his brain to work in the field, and he was able to get some small supporting roles.
At the beginning of the new year, Martin found a supporting role that could be ranked among the top five in the cast.
If the TV series is successfully broadcast, if it lasts for another five or six years, maybe he can become a veteran actor.
Martin, who is a good drinker, found someone to celebrate wildly, drank a few homemade cocktails, and fell asleep in two oversized balloons. It is possible that difficulty in breathing caused the tragedy.
When I woke up again, I came to Georgia in 2003.
Predecessor Martin Davis was in a bad situation. His most recent job was as a house maintenance worker. He fell from the roof a week ago and injured his leg and head.
Martin took advantage of the situation and became the 22-year-old Martin Davis, but part of the memory of his predecessor in the United States, like a program that needed to be decoded, was running relatively slowly for the time being.
This week, Martin spent most of his time getting familiar with the language and gradually became able to communicate normally.
At this time, the door of the room opened from the outside. Elena Carter, whose brown hair was tied into a ponytail, came in with the key. Her brother Harris Carter followed behind with a paper bag in his arms.
Elena has exquisite features, a tall figure, and a smooth face without the freckles common to white people. As soon as she entered the door, she said: "Is your brain okay? Can you speak normally?"
Martin responded with the middle finger, as if he had done it countless times: "What do you know? If you hit your head, your IQ will double."
Elena held her head high and raised her white hoodie to an exaggerated height: "Very good, hurry up and find a job. I don't want to give meals to lazy people for another week. I still have two little kids to raise. I can't raise them." Get up for you."
The week when Martin was injured, the four Elena siblings from next door came to deliver meals.
“According to Dr. Bill, your probability of recovery within a week is as high as 70%.” Harris-Carter put the paper bag on the low wooden table and said, “The church distributes free bread, and this time there is fried chicken.”
He turned around and left: "Bill has been working for two months and cured twenty sheep and thirty-five cows without making any mistakes."
Before leaving the house, Harris turned around and said, "The bicycle belongs to me today, and I will go and tutor others."
“You two idiots, take me to the vet!” Martin swore and took the paper bag unceremoniously.
Elena sat down next to Martin, touched her butt, and said: "You don't have **** medical insurance, and I have no money to take you to a regular clinic. Bill used to live on this street, no. Charge us for medical treatment.”
Martin took out the bread and ate the fried chicken. He thought about the injury and the situation at his previous job, and said: "The house repairman owes me two weeks' salary, and this injury, I want to think of a way to get more money."
His pockets are cleaner than his face, he is extremely poor, and certain thoughts automatically jump out of his mind. "You'd better get more money!" Elena snatched a piece of bread and took a hard bite: "What you have eaten this week, as well as the food you have eaten and drank in the past few months, I don't want to be a poor guy like you. No matter what. But your **** dad hasn't paid the rent for this house for half a year.”
She stared with eyes that were more fierce than the towering mountains: "The most **** thing is that your father kidnapped my mother this Monday and eloped in the name of true love and freedom!"
These words reminded Martin. He searched his memory and sadly discovered that he was not as simple as a poor man.
One month before Jack Davis took Emma Carter away, he asked his predecessor, Martin Davis, to borrow a loan shark of US$6,000 from the owner of Beast House.
The two of them slapped their butts together and happily traveled around the world, leaving two messes behind.
Martin whispered: "The loan shark that is repaid in installments will have to pay back the first installment soon."
“Go and ask for God's blessing.” Elena shrugged. There was no cheap sympathy among poor people.
Martin shook his head and said: "God will not bless poor people."
"It will soon be this year's disability subsidy review day. My uncle James's subsidy has been received by Jack on his behalf all these years. Jack has left behind a memory. Now that he has eloped with Emma, the subsidy will be over." Change to Elena. Crazy and distressed: “How can I maintain this **** life without money?”
Martin was about to ask a question, then he remembered that this house belonged to James Carter, and said, "Your uncle died eight years ago and ate the wrong flour."
"I'm sure now that your brain is not broken." Elena didn't care at all and pointed to the woods behind the house: "James is buried there."
She was worried a few days ago that Martin had fallen from a pauper to an idiot and a pauper, and would have to raise another one in the future. At this time, she felt relieved and said lightly: "James is lucky to be freed from the pain of a pauper. You are still the one who buried him." And I dug it.”
“Damn it!” Martin had a headache. The poor people in **** had an incurable disease.
Elena took out her cell phone with the paint peeling off, looked at the time, stood up and said, "I should go to the mall for a quickie."
Martin said casually: "Don't worry, you can always find a way out."
Elena looked at the T1000 poster and said, "Stop working for free at that **** theater company. He never returned to the Marietta Theater Company after he became famous."
What Martin wants to do now is to solve basic life problems first, and responded: "Don't worry, I won't work for free."
Because Martin Davis has a criminal record, Elena warned again before going out: "Poor man, if you can't do it, I will settle a score with you. Count how many times you and I applauded, and how much you have to pay me." Money! Also, I will call the Beast House Club and tell them that you are willing to work as a gigolo to pay off the debt! Think about why they are willing to lend you a loan shark!"
“Aren't you supposed to pay for applause? I'll give you hundreds of millions every time!” Martin said matter-of-factly.
Elena raised her hands above her head and extended two middle fingers.
Martin finished eating the bread and fried chicken. There was food in his stomach, and his legs didn't seem to hurt anymore.
After simply tidying up, he went out and stood in the sun, looking at it briefly.
Marietta is a sparsely populated southern suburban town. Even in Clayton, a dilapidated community where Martin is located, every single-family wooden house has a small yard in front of it.
In the yard next door surrounded by broken barbed wire, a boy was digging a pit with cardboard at his feet.
This is Elena's ten-year-old brother.
An old Dodge pickup truck drove up along the cracked road, with a spray-painted image of dancing men and the words "House of the Beast" written underneath.
The car stopped on the side of the road. The muscular man in a jacket who got out of the car looked at Martin and asked, "Martin Davis?"
A new book has been released, please support me by collecting, monthly tickets and investing. The new book is an entertainment and business article with an American background, and I plan to use new writing methods from different angles.
(End of this chapter)
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