The tryside. Flowers. Creeping snowberry. The road with dust. The sopping from little sweat glands. The line of the cable.
Beautiful try around here, said Julie.
Geous, said Thomas.
Great to be alive, said the Dead Father. To breathe in and out. To feel ones muscles bite and snap.
How is y? Thomas asked. The meical one.
It is inparable, said the Dead Father. Magnifit, that would be a word for it. I would I had two as good as the left. Old Plugalong.
How did you e by it? asked Thomas. Act or design?
The latter, said the Dead Father. In my vastness, there was room for, y of, every kind of experience. I therefore decided that meical experience art of experiehere was room for, in my vastness. I wao know what maes know.
What do maes know?
Maes are sober, unplaining, endlessly effit, and work ceaselessly through all the hours for the good of all, said the Dead Father. They dream, when they dream, of stopping. Of last things. They --
Whats that? Thomas interrupted. He ointing to the side of the road.
Two children. One male. One female. Not too big. Not too small. Holding hands.
Children in love, said Julie.
In love? How do you know?
I have an eye for love, she said, and there it is. A clear instance.
Children, said the Dead Father. Whippersnappers.
What is that? the children asked, pointing to the Dead Father.
That is a Dead Father, Thomas told them.
The children hugged each htly.
He doesnt look dead to us, said the girl.
He is walking, said the boy. Or standing up, anyhow.
He is dead only in a sehomas said.
The children kissed each other, on the lips.
They dont seem very impressed, said the Dead Father. Where is the awe?
They are lost in each other, said Julie. Soaks up all available awe.
Dont seem old enough, Thomas said. How old are you? he asked.
We are twenty, said the girl. I am ten and he is ten. Old enough. We are going to live together all our lives and love each other all our lives until we die. We know it. But dont tell anyone because well be beaten, if the knowledge bees general.
Arent they supposed to be throwing rocks at each other at this age? Thomas asked.
Always magnifit exceptions, Julie said.
We have cut our fingers with an X-Acto knife and mingled our bloods, the boy said.
Two tiny forefingers with short crusty cuts exhibited.
Did you sterilize the knife? I hope? Julie asked.
We da in the vodka bottle, said the girl. I judged that suffit.
That would do it, Thomas said.
We will never be parted. I am Hilda and he is Lars. When he is eighteen he is going to refuse to do his military servid I am going to do something so I be put in the same jail with him, I havent thought it up yet.
Admirable, Julie said.
We are together, said Hilda, and will always be. You are too old to know how it is.
I am?
You must be about twenty-six.
Exactly.
And he is even older, she said, indig Thomas.
siderably, Thomas admitted.
And he, she poio the Dead Father, must be, I t imagine. Maybe a hundred.
Wrong, the Dead Father said gaily. Wrong, but close. Even older than that, but also younger. Having it both ways is a thing I like.
All this age fills up your heads, Hilda said. So you ot remember what it was like, being a child. Probably you dont even remember the fear. So much of the it. So