Мгла
After the Storm. Norton. A Trip to Town.
Wanttotakeawalkuptotheendofthedrivewaywithme?"
Hestartedtocomeandthenstopped,eyeingthewiresnervously.Oneofthemhumpedupandturnedoverlazily,asifbeckoning.
"Daddy,canelectricityshootthroughtheground?"
Afairquestion."Yes,butdon’tworry.Electricitywantstheground,notyou,Billy.You’llbeallrightifyoustayawayfromthewires."
"Wantstheground,"hemuttered,andthencametome.Wewalkedupthedrivewayholdinghands.
ItwasworsethanIhadimagined.Treeshadfallenacrossthedriveinfourdifferentplaces,oneofthemsmall,twoofthemmiddling,andoneoldbabythatmusthavebeenfivefeetthroughthemiddle.Mosswascrustedontoitlikeamoldycorset.
Branches,somehalf-strippedoftheirleaves,layeverywhereinjackstrawprofusion.BillyandIwalkeduptothecamproad,tossingthesmallerbranchesoffintothewoodsoneitherside.Itremindedmeofasummer’sdaythathadbeenmaybetwenty-fiveyearsbefore;Icouldn’thavebeenmucholderthanBillywasnow.Allmyuncleshadbeenhere,andtheyhadspentthedayinthewoodswithaxesandhatchetsandDarcypoles,cuttingbrush.Laterthatafternoontheyhadallsatdowntothetrestlepicnictablemydadandmomusedtohaveandtherehadbeenamonstermealofhotdogsandhamburgersandpotatosalad.The’GansettbeerhadflowedlikewaterandmyuncleReubentookadiveintothelakewithallhisclotheson,evenhisdeck-shoes.Inthosedaystherewerestilldeerinthesewoods.
