CHAPTER 36

类别:文学名著 作者:凯斯·唐纳胡 本章:CHAPTER 36

    ter imes uttered or ten, t I er our montc no envy for t of restrained pity. ion bo it run trange to settle on to time and lost to ones true nature.

    I  back for my book. Our encounter outside ted overnigo t a single candle to sory and isfied. tried to sing tes of o one bundle  my manuscript, papers from ter from Speck; and into anot of to leave at able. Our miscime o make amends. Above me, glass crastered. An obscene exclamation, a to tsteps approacrapdoor.

    Per t cions drifted from dread to excitement, a sensation not unlike ing at turn from o  o sless not befriend me after all t I did not e  olen music, give him my name, and bid him farewell.

    ting to figure out o get into to come to er an eternity,  back on its lig. A perfect square separated our t once, uck o ted over to traig six inc of ed me, for no sign of kindness or recognition marked ures, no expression but ra, ed o a snarl, and rage beat out of o our orc—and co t;Keep your distance,quot; I ;I can send you from t; But  coming.   to do and lifted tern above my  past  my back.

    tern glass broke and a blaze spilled out like er over a pile of blankets, and traig. As ter,  t of ter, and  into to retrieve. urned around, rapdoor banged closed, and a long, t upward, brighe walls.

    On ture began to emerge in terne ligion, but as tlines flared and flickered. t once I perceived t: t Coast of ted States, tours of t Lakes, ty plains, to tly above my roke of tion, and some. Speck e and drarail to folloo tern ocean. S o t tone or painting  s line of try, sced on t rouge a constellation of draions, primitive and cory told on i??p of its ancestor. Some of t, as if a preoric being  memories like paintings on a cave  a stream. Ss, and tures from es and imps and goblins. Icarus, Visoons: Ignatz t Krazy Kat, Little Nemo slumbers in onderland, Koko jumps out of to knots, a garland knitted from morning glory vines. tures unemperature rose as in an oven, but I could not save myself from  corner, sed a left  s. to back on a mountain of books. On trance to ter  open. I o leave.

    I studied Specks passage , o commit it to memory.  to look up? A cinder popped and fle filled to t, but my bundle  fit ts ignited, sending a  knocked me to my knees. I tore open ttering papers to t ter and a feray c my c; to t.

    tars  and ts , and many of t t t ep, but I kne a toto and tories  up in flames. From a green o figucking to my s, I started trip  . In te darkness, fireflies flasheir semaphores of longing.

    Speck made it, I am sure, from o t Pacific idal pools, slept on tangle of knots, rong as ropes from sory of ry, tfields and soybeans of t, sunfloeep pitced Desert beyond, and finally ocean in vieook you so long? And I ory and il in . Only tep by tortured step.

    took kind care of me upon my return to camp next morning. Onions and Béka scoured to sootered feet. Co tern and dreer to quenc and o ure and to erary remains. Only a fe survived to prove t it ed. I told t Specks map on t s beo store it in tive consciousness of tribe.

    quot;Youll simply o remember,quot; said Luchóg.

    quot;Rely upon t is a complicated mac; Smaolac;I can still recall exactly  w saw you

    quot; tion re-creates.quot; Coo mucime h my old friend.

    quot;Sometimes I dont knourns  is real or t;

    quot;A mind often makes its o; said Luc;to ime.quot;

    quot;Ill need paper. Do you remember  me some paper, Luc kindness Ill never forget.quot;

    From memory, I transferred Specks map on to tter, and in t folloailed map of try and any book  California and t be anyplace along t. tainty t I y sustained me as I began again. My feet  quietly in our camp, ing every day outdoors  gave o tumn.

    As to yelloo crispy brorange sound drifted nooo our camp. Emanating from till nigarts and fits, broken noraffic on t Friday nigball games, and tter of noise t intrudes upon modern life. Running like a river, t and spilled doo our glen. Entranced by top to listen, and mad y, Luc out to find its source. te October night.

    quot;Stay just a s  ;

    By t of trap to my travel pouc;And ;

    , and  get my attention,  louder. I looked up to see er almost as big as   he broadside.

    quot;You  upside down, Luc;

    quot;Surely you can read it any er. t at t only tide but, underneat, a small  engraving of two figures in flig.

    quot;;

    Smaolac;No matter  as likely to be rig youll stay for t;

    quot;You cant miss t,quot; Luc;Anot as long.quot;

    e footed our , a last bit of miscogetaking bold delig not being seen. On t of t es of tones. tifully, Ill admit, and o stand next to to laug  ill stered for breat still. Cor, racing arcs and  taring at t stars.

    Cinc everyration ten on ime es, . trings alone took up t measures, and  t ransformed, younger ter. I  o leave, I can never know.

    transfixed by tra, and I am quite sure t ted me looking t tar and out into to study t once  roo leave t c of trangers to me. I kept o see my sisters, but, of course, till ageless c ened, seemed to glance my o crao o feel  my co be o be kno among to  s   someood.

    smiling and playing, and like a book told a story t seemed, in part, a gift—as if, in our only common language,  beat in . Some sorroions, as if above and beloerludes, tes, I t oo, rying to say goodbye, goodbye to to silence. quot;Aniday,quot; Luco t or t like a torm. One by one, o t tones and back into t, as if we he people.

    o leave come tomorroory  taken nearly as long to re-create. I  been concerned ting dos, nor a detailed explanation of tand suc and beloer troubles exist for co tories old or believed. Reac all t souls and t beent to remain as t c me. e all go away one day.

    Sell ill. Say o my baby sisters. Kill t I  as far as ters to look for s t. A name, love, urn and his book is for you.

    I am gone and am not coming back, but I remember everything.


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