Волны

           Ibegintodrawafigureandtheworldisloopedinit,andImyselfamoutsidetheloop;whichInowjoin--so--andsealup,andmakeentire.Theworldisentire,andIamoutsideofit,crying,"Ohsaveme,frombeingblownforeveroutsidetheloopoftime!"’

           ’ThereRhodasitsstaringattheblackboard,’saidLouis,’intheschoolroom,whilewerambleoff,pickinghereabitofthyme,pinchingherealeafofsouthernwoodwhileBernardtellsastory.Hershoulder-bladesmeetacrossherbacklikethewingsofasmallbutterfly.Andasshestaresatthechalkfigures,hermindlodgesinthosewhitecircles,itstepsthroughthosewhiteloopsintoemptiness,alone.Theyhavenomeaningforher.Shehasnoanswerforthem.Shehasnobodyastheothershave.AndI,whospeakwithanAustralianaccent,whosefatherisabankerinBrisbane,donotfearherasIfeartheothers.’

           ’Letusnowcrawl,’saidBernard,’underthecanopyofthecurrantleaves,andtellstories.Letusinhabittheunderworld.Letustakepossessionofoursecretterritory,whichislitbypendantcurrantslikecandelabra,shiningredononeside,blackontheother.Here,Jinny,ifwecurlupclose,wecansitunderthecanopyofthecurrantleavesandwatchthecensersswing.Thisisouruniverse.Theotherspassdownthecarriage-drive.TheskirtsofMissHudsonandMissCurrysweepbylikecandleextinguishers.ThoseareSusan’swhitesocks.ThoseareLouis’neatsand-shoesfirmlyprintingthegravel.Herecomewarmgustsofdecomposingleaves,ofrottingvegetation.Weareinaswampnow;inamalarialjungle.