Мгла
After the Storm. Norton. A Trip to Town.
Partofitwastheunnervingstraightedgeofitsleadingfront.Nothinginnatureisthateven;manistheinventorofstraightedges.Partofitwasthatpure,dazzlingwhiteness,withnovariationbutalsowithoutthesparkleofmoisture.Itwasonlyhalfamileorsooffnow,andthecontrastbetweenitandthebluesofthelakeandskywasmorestrikingthanever.
"Comeon,Dad!"Billywastuggingatmypants.
Weallwentbacktothekitchen.BrentNortonsparedonefinalglanceatthetreethathadcrashedintoourlivingroom.
"Toobaditwasn’tanappletree,huh?"Billyremarkedbrightly."That’swhatmymomsaid.Prettyfunny,don’tyouthink?"
"Yourmother’sarealcard,Billy,"Nortonsaid.HeruffledBilly’shairinaperfunctorywayandhiseyeswenttothefrontofSteff’sT-shirtagain.No,hewasnotamanIwasevergoingtobeabletoreallylike.
"Listen,whydon’tyoucomewithus,Steff?"Iasked.FornoconcretereasonIsuddenlywantedhertocomealong.
"No,IthinkI’llstayhereandpullsomeweedsinthegarden,"shesaid.HereyesshiftedtowardNortonandthenbacktome."ThismorningitseemslikeI’mtheonlythingaroundherethatdoesn’trunonelectricity."
Nortonlaughedtooheartily.
Iwasgettinghermessage,buttriedonemoretime."Yousure?"
"Sure,"shesaidfirmly."Theoldbend-and-stretchwilldomegood."
"Well,don’tgettoomuchsun."
"I’llputonmystrawhat.We’llhavesandwicheswhenyougetback."
"Good."
Sheturnedherfaceuptobekissed."Becareful.
