Сумерки

           Thehardestthingtoexplainwaswhyitwassobeautifultome-tojustifyabeautythatdidn’tdependonthesparse,spinyvegetationthatoftenlookedhalfdead,abeautythathadmoretodowiththeexposedshapeoftheland,withtheshallowbowlsofvalleysbetweenthecraggyhills,andthewaytheyheldontothesun.IfoundmyselfusingmyhandsasItriedtodescribeittohim.

           Hisquiet,probingquestionskeptmetalkingfreely,forgetting,inthedimlightofthestorm,tobeembarrassedformonopolizingtheconversation.Finally,whenIhadfinisheddetailingmyclutteredroomathome,hepausedinsteadofrespondingwithanotherquestion.

           "Areyoufinished?"Iaskedinrelief.

           "Notevenclose-butyourfatherwillbehomesoon."

           "Charlie!"Isuddenlyrecalledhisexistence,andsighed.Ilookedoutattherain-darkenedsky,butitgavenothingaway."Howlateisit?"IwonderedoutloudasIglancedattheclock.Iwassurprisedbythetime-Charliewouldbedrivinghomenow.

           "It’stwilight,"Edwardmurmured,lookingatthewesternhorizon,obscuredasitwaswithclouds.Hisvoicewasthoughtful,asifhismindweresomewherefaraway.Istaredathimashegazedunseeinglyoutthewindshield.

           Iwasstillstaringwhenhiseyessuddenlyshiftedbacktomine.

           "It’sthesafesttimeofdayforus,"hesaid,answeringtheunspokenquestioninmyeyes."Theeasiesttime.Butalsothesaddest,inaway...theendofanotherday,thereturnofthenight.Darknessissopredictable,don’tyouthink?"Hesmiledwistfully.

           "Ilikethenight.