Вино из одуванчиков

           Andthere,insmallwarmpoolsoflamplight,youcouldseewhatLeoAuffmannwantedyoutosee.TheresatSaulandMarshall,playingchessatthecoffeetable.InthediningroomRebeccawaslayingoutthesilver.Naomiwascuttingpaper-dolldresses.Ruthwaspaintingwatercolors.Josephwasrunninghiselectrictrain.Throughthekitchendoor,LenaAuffmannwasslidingapotroastfromthesteamingoven.Everyhand,everyhead,everymouthmadeabigorlittlemotion.Youcouldheartheirfarawayvoicesunderglass.Youcouldhearsomeonesinginginahighsweetvoice.Youcouldsmellbreadbaking,too,andyouknewitwasrealbreadthatwouldsoonbecoveredwithrealbutter.Everythingwasthereanditwasworking.

           Grandfather,Douglas,andTomturnedtolookatLeoAuffmann,whogazedserenelythroughthewindow,thepinklightonhischeeks.

           "Sure,"hemurmured."Thereitis."Andhewatchedwithnow-gentlesorrowandnow-quickdelight,andatlastquietacceptanceasallthebitsandpiecesofthishousemixed,stirred,settled,poised,andransteadilyagain."TheHappinessMachine,"hesaid."TheHappinessMachine."

           Amomentlaterhewasgone.

           Inside,Grandfather,Douglas,andTomsawhimtinkering,makingaminoradjustmenthere,eliminatefrictionthere,busyamongallthosewarm,wonderful,infinitelydelicate,forevermysterious,andever-movingparts.

           Thensmiling,theywentdownthestepsintothefreshsummernight.