CHAPTER 8

类别:文学名著 作者:凯斯·唐纳胡 本章:CHAPTER 8

    quot;I ; t bitter days of er imprisoned torm and freezing temperatures made travel outside of camp impossible. Most of us spent nigion of cold and ood above me, smiling, a surprise ient  aside like a curtain.

    quot;ake up, sleepy I found.quot;

    Keeping tig tood. S out a single envelope, its  ook it from  a greeting card ure of a big red  on its front. Absentmindedly, I let to t to pick it up.

    quot;Look, Aniday,quot; siff fingers o carefully tear t;If you o open it up, you could  a stamp and address on t, and on t.quot; Sook t;See, you can dra and back of too, go around ting ; Speck bounced on oes in t of joy as to one, as if unable to bear interaction  of us.

    quot;Youre eful. I trudged to bring t back ;

    quot;;

    quot;arm me up.quot; So my side, and I opened to snuggle in, and s y under ts and fell into a deep sleep. I a morning  . Speck co   I read t if thee, dear friend,

    All losses are restored and sorrows end.

    S 30

    ture, no addressee, and  snow.

    quot; do you t means?quot;

    quot;I dont kno; I told ;; the name seemed vaguely familiar.

    quot;roubles end, if  t ;

    treetops, ing began: sno, ted to be alone .

    quot; are you going to e?quot;

    quot;I  to make a calendar, but I do not knooday?quot;

    quot;One day is like anot;

    quot;Arent you curious about  is today?quot;

    Speck o , bidding me to do to t point near t ran along tern edge, a difficult passage over a steep slope of loose s, and I  of breatapped  and told me to be quiet and listen. e ill and ed. Otains, it .

    quot; am I supposed to ;

    quot;Concentrate,quot; she said.

    I tried, but save for tcwigs and branching reached my ear. I shrugged my shoulders.

    quot;try ;

    I listened so intently t a fierce ing of , and a far-off rion t at first sounded like t soon took on a more fixed cer. A ernating speeds, a lo, and I realized ening to distant traffic.

    quot;Neat,quot; I told ;Cars.quot;

    quot;Pay attention.  do you ;

    My ting, but I focused. quot;Lots of cars?quot; I guessed.

    quot;Rig; S;Lots and lots of cars. traffic in t;

    I still didnt get it.

    quot;People going to y. Scs of cars in t means its a  a Sunday. Sundays are quiet and not so many cars speeding by.quot;

    So tasted it in ant. quot;I ts a Monday,quot; she said.

    quot;Ive seen t trick before. ell?quot;

    quot;All tories make smoke. But t so many cars on tories are closed on Sundays. You aste any smoke at all. Monday, a bit more. By Friday nigastes like a mout; S;Definitely a Monday. No me see your letter.quot;

    I ine and envelope, ing to tmark over tamp. quot;Do you remember ines Day?quot;

    quot;February fourteent; I felt proud, as if I  anse, ing numbers on a chalkboard.

    quot;ts rig; Sed to te on tmark, s  in t means Monday morning is .quot;

    quot;So, today is Valentines Day? ines Day.quot;

    quot;No, Aniday. You o learn to read t out. Deduction. oday be Valentines Day if today is a Monday? ter t is lost? If I found tter yesterday, and today is Monday, oday be Valentines Day?quot;

    I ired. My head ached.

    quot;February teent Monday. If t for more t  yesterday and broug to you. Yesterday  day—not many cars—a Sunday. today must be t Monday.quot;

    Sion my ability to reason at all.

    quot;Its simple. today is Monday, February 20, 1950. You do need a calendar.quot; S --t-F-S for ted all te side, to 31. As so   about leap years, al circles to demonstrate t if I ed to keep track of time, all I o move to t space on to start over at th.

    Speck en s proved to be ty of imagination and creativity. At sucs of insigremor in ing are. quot;If you ever forget, Aniday, come find me.quot; S, across trees until so tural world. e: February 20, 1950. I  so mucime.

    Far belo of stinking blankets and furs. By listening to traffic and folloo its source, I could be back among to stop and take me anding by t for , to come save me. I  run a  try not to frigo eye level, ss and my little sister, tell to get o ting beside ell ale, and s . Id jump from t car as opped before my er oer. quot;Ive found your boy,quot; t;eve been looking all over for you for a long time.quot; Later, after fried cs, o to sco do o concentrate and folloion. I looked to t saened, but ried to remember, but could not recall my name.

    Pocketing my tokens, I turned over to myself: quot;But if t; took out my pencil and began to e all I could remember. Many a year ten tory more t t op tiffened in to t to me he promise of warm dreams.

    Not long after Specks valentine, anot landed in my lap. Luc it back from one of ing expeditions, unpacking a at tmas tree. quot;And ttle treasure, is for you. too. Paper.quot;

    ebook, to ensure t of ences. On t itle RULED COMPOSItION BOOK. On ted  of atomic attack: close t panic. Inside, tten he flyleaf.

    tually indecipy broell, it ory, or part of a story, because on t page, ting ends mid-sentence ic See Otten on tried to read it, but t of tory eluded me. ty of tion book for me stemmed from McInness self-indulgence. ten on only one side of ty-eigs of paper. I turned te my contrary story in te direction.  journal is in astest to its basic contents: a naturalists journal recording my observations of life in t, complete s—a diary of t years of my life.

    My crack time,  of time, but despair  by my friends and companions, and as I aged inside, a casual nothe boy.

    topped by mid-Marc years, and a feer t, green life s curn, fiscantly restored our energies, t corresponding to our interest in exploration. e s, ss and s o tinking bodies, dro and scum. Once, Blomma olen a bar of soap from a gas station, and  ao a splinter in a single reneh. Pale bodies on a pebbly shore, rubbed pink and clean.

    ted in ting taining eet, until self smelled pungent and bitters. Lucilled to a potent brerac over t many a July day gatness among t, and I am sad every time to see t potful at our evening repasts, for those black jewels are a harbinger of summers end.

    t-eaters among us rejoiced at taste. Eacuring tece only flies,  cra a colony of termites in a rotting log, a party of slugs in ty carcass, and dig in and eat ting creatures rating patiently by a small fire, c of tongue o orious bug-eater, but at least solerate ted rock until t legs tend to stick in your teets, if not roasted first, e your tongue and t on the way down.

    I o t  an occasional bit of protein in t, all of us ook squirrels, moles, mice, fisoo great a o steal from t. Anyt care for t ime. In late summer and early fall, in particular, tribe ogetunate creature roasted on a spit. Nots a rabbit under a starry nig, as Speck o desire.

    Suc in my fourtands above all t. Speck and I rayed from camp, and so topped at an old gray dogwood.

    quot;Climb up test nectar.quot;

    As commanded, I srunk, despite tourned face, eyes agloation.

    quot;Go on,quot; s;Be careful. Dont make t;

    t sting startled me like a pinprick, t I ermined. I could smell t it and could feel it before I sa. s sed red, I fell from to t floor  me itude. e ran from t ted toe til our lips and cuff, tar omaced in t aco pull tingers from my face and  my every  over and kissed my palm.

    quot;You are suc, Aniday.quot; But rayed ning rending the summer sky.


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