Мгла
After the Storm. Norton. A Trip to Town.
Nowthattheseweragerunofffromtheboomingcottage-buildingindustryhaskilledmostofthefishandmadetherestofthemunsafetoeat,theEPAhasforbiddeninstallingsandbeaches.Theymightupsettheecologyofthelake,yousee,anditispresentlyagainstthelawforanyoneexceptlanddeveloperstodothat.
Billywentfortheflag-thenstopped.AtthesamemomentIfeltSteffgorigidagainstme,andIsawitmyself.TheHarrisonsideofthelakewasgone.Ithadbeenburiedunderalineofbright-whitemist,likeafair-weathercloudfallentoearth.
Mydreamofthenightbeforerecurred,andwhenSteffaskedmewhatitwas,thewordthatnearlyjumpedfirstfrommymouthwasGod.
"David?"
Youcouldn’tseeevenahintoftheshorelineoverthere,butyearsoflookingatLongLakemademebelievethattheshorelinewasn’thiddenbymuch;onlyyards,maybe.Theedgeofthemistwasnearlyruler-straight.
"Whatisit,Dad?"Billyyelled.Hewasinthewateruptohisknees,gropingforthesoggyflag.
"Fogbank,"Isaid.
"Onthelake?"Steffaskeddoubtfully,andIcouldseeMrs.Carmody’sinfluenceinhereyes.Damnthewoman.
Myownmomentofuneasewaspassing.Dreams,afterall,areinsubstantialthings,likemistitself.
"Sure.You’veseenfogonthelakebefore."
"Neverlikethat.Thatlooksmorelikeacloud."
"It’sthebrightnessofthesun,"Isaid."It’sthesamewaycloudslookfromanairplanewhenyouflyoverthem."
"Whatwoulddoit?Weonlygetfogindampweather."
"No,we’vegotitrightnow,"Isaid."Harrisondoes,anyway.
