Зима тревоги нашей

           SouthDevonrunsalongtheshore,andtherearelightsaimedatthebeachputtherebygoodpeopletokeeploversfromgettingintrouble.Theyhavetogosomewhereelse.AtownordinancesaysthatWeeWilliehastopatrolonceanhour.Therewasn’tasoulonthebeach—notasoul,andthatwasoddbecausesomeoneisgoingfishing,orfishing,orcominginnearlyallthetime.Iloweredmyselfovertheedgeandfoundtheoutcropstoneanddoubledintothelittlecave.AndIhadhardlysettledmyselfbeforeIheardWeeWillie’scargoby.That’stwiceIhadavoidedpassingthetimeofnightwithhim.

           Itsoundsuncomfortableandsilly,sittingcross-leggedinanichelikeablinkingBuddha,butsomewaythestonefitsme,orIfit.MaybeI’vebeengoingtheresolongthatmybehindhasconformedtothestones.Asforitsbeingsilly,Idon’tmindthat.Sometimesit’sgreatfuntobesilly,likechildrenplayingstatuesanddyingoflaughter.Andsometimesbeingsillybreakstheevenpaceandletsyougetanewstart.WhenIamtroubled,Iplayagameofsillysothatmydearwillnotcatchtroublefromme.Shehasn’tfoundmeoutyet,orifshehas,I’llneverknowit.SomanythingsIdon’tknowaboutmyMary,andamongthem,howmuchsheknowsaboutme.Idon’tthinksheknowsaboutthePlace.Howwouldshe?I’venevertoldanyone.IthasnonameinmymindexceptthePlace—noritualorformulaoranything.It’saspotinwhichtowonderaboutthings.Nomanreallyknowsaboutotherhumanbeings.