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Biographie Etty moved forward, took a few more steps, turned left and was in the passage when suddenly he clapped his hand over his mouth. "I don't feel well," he mumbled. I'm sorry He went to the cockpit door, which was somewhat blocking the first-class bathroom, and opened the bathroom door from the right. "I'm afraid you'll have to leave the cabin," shouted the pilot as Etty opened the door. This is "I'm afraid I'm going to throw up, and I don't want to throw up on your feet," said Etty, "or all over myself." Then he went into the bathroom and locked the door. What is the captain still shouting about. But Etty didn't understand what he was saying, and he didn't want to understand. The important thing is to say what you want to say, not to shout. He's right not to shout at about 250 passengers waiting at the front door of the cabin to get off the plane. He went into the bathroom and was safe for a while. But what to do now? If you're here, he thought, you'd better get your work done, whoever you are. In such a terrible moment, nothing happened. It was only for a brief moment, but in Etty's mind it seemed to stretch indefinitely,Stainless Steel Toilet Bowl, torturing him, like when Henry bought him Bonomo's Turkish toffee in the summer when they were children. If he doesn't behave well, Henry will beat the shit out of him, and if he behaves well, Henry will buy him Turkish toffee to eat. This is how Henry trained him to improve his sense of responsibility during the summer vacation. God, oh,Flushometer valve, Jesus Christ, I've imagined everything, oh, Jesus, I'm crazy to believe that — Get ready, said the stern voice. I can't do it by myself. I can come through, but I can't let you come through. You have to do it with me. Turn around. Etty felt suddenly that he could see through two pairs of eyes, that he had two sets of nerves (only the other set of nerves were not all here, some of them were gone, had just gone, and were still screaming in pain), that he had ten senses, Self-closing Shower Valve ,Stainless Steel Toilet China, that his blood was beating against his two hearts. He turned around. There is a hole in the side of the bathroom, like a passageway. Through the hole, he could see the gray, gravel-strewn beach and the waves, and what looked like old-fashioned sports socks dancing in the sand. He heard the sound of the waves. He could smell the salt, which smelled like bitter tears from his nose. Go through. Someone was knocking on the bathroom door and telling him he had to get out of the plane right away. Get through, you damn it! Etty, groaning, steps into the doorway … Tripped over.. Fell into another world. 13 He stood up slowly and felt his right palm cut open by the sharp edge of the shell. He watched stupidly as the blood ran down the lifeline of his palm, and then saw the other person on his right slowly straighten up. Etty winced, and the initial giddiness and dreamy dislocation were suddenly replaced by a wedged sense of fear: the man was dead, but he didn't know it yet. His gaunt face was so gaunt that it was all skin and bone, like strips of cloth wrapped around sharp metal-about to be cut. The man's complexion was dark and bluish, and on the cheekbones of his face, on his neck, and on each side of his chin, there were feverish red spots that looked like lung disease. Between his eyes was a circular mark, much as a child might have laboriously copied the hierarchy of Indian castes. But his eyes, which were blue and firm, and perfectly sane, were once alive, and full of tenacious and terrible vitality. He was wearing some kind of home-made black dress; the black shirt with the sleeves rolled up was almost faded to gray, and the trousers were like blue jeans. The gun belt was crossed at the hip, but the cartridge bag was almost empty. The guy in the holster looks like a.45 -- a.45 is almost an antique. The wood of the gun handle was so polished that it almost matched the luster of the barrel. Etty, he didn't know what to say — he couldn't say anything — but he heard himself saying it. Are you a ghost? "Not really." The man's voice was as hoarse and terrible as the sound of a gun. The ghost grass. Cocaine. Whatever you call it.
Take it out of your shirt. "Your arm —" Etty looked at the man's arm. The daredevil gunslinger was in trouble. A thin, solid, spaghetti red line was visible on his arm. The faint, transparent mark was clearly a bad omen. Etty knows all about this red line — it means blood poisoning. It means that the damn venom is running around faster than you can fart, and it's already in the veins, and it's running up in a heartbeat. Never mind my ***ing arm! Said the bloodless spirit to him. Take off your shirt and untie that thing! He heard the sound of the sea; he heard the sound of an undisturbed wind; he saw the mad, dying man, with nothing but loneliness and desolation; and yet, behind him, there was the faint noise of passengers disembarking and a dull knock at the door. Mr. Dean! The voice shouted, he thought, from another world. He didn't doubt it, but trying to put it into his head was like knocking a nail into a thick piece of mahogany. You have to "" "You can leave it here. It will be given to you later," ordered the Gunman hoarsely. God, don't you understand that I can only talk to you here? My body is badly hurt! There's no time,Manual Flush Valve, you idiot! Etty should have killed him for speaking out of turn.. But I think maybe it's not so easy to kill him, even though it looks like killing this guy is a good thing for him. But he felt in those blue eyes the declaration of truth; and though they gazed wildly at each other, there was no suspicion between them. 
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