Northern Lights. Tim O’BrienЧитать онлайн книгу.
’cause that fallout is powerful stuff. Rots your testicles off.’
Addie chuckled.
‘Just a heat storm, Jud says.’
‘Ha! Old Jud doesn’t have to worry about his testicles.’
Grace came in smiling, carrying the birthday cake. She handed out pieces on scallop-edged napkins.
‘An end-of-the-world party,’ Harvey said happily. He was loud. ‘Can’t think of a better place for it, can’t imagine nicer people to end the world with. Too bad the old man’s not here.’
‘It’s quiet outside,’ said Grace.
‘Ah,’ Harvey said. ‘The solemn silence. The silent solemnity.’ He stared at Perry. ‘Sure you want to stay, brother? Don’t remember you giving me much help building this thing. Sure you want to stay?’
Perry shrugged. Grace cut more cake and the lanterns dangled from the ceiling.
‘It’s just a heat storm, Harv.’
‘Ha. Tell that to your testicles. Just ask the buggers. See what they say.’
‘Let’s just all go outside.’
‘And be doomed?’
Gently, Grace bent over Harvey, felt his forehead. ‘You’ve a fever. Are you sick?’ She inspected his face, frowning. The lanterns dangled from the ceiling.
‘He’s just a silly pirate,’ Addie said.
Harvey stood up. He was loud. ‘Right! Absolutely right. Addie, that Addie’s something, isn’t she? When all this blows over and the streets are safe again, then I’m taking Addie to the swamps of New Guinea. I’ve decided.’ He struck a pose that could have meant anything. Addie laughed. ‘Yes, I’ve decided. We’ll begin a new life. Yes. Yes, we’ll plant seed, new seeds, seeds that I’ve prudently set aside for just such catastrophes. I have many seeds. A bull, you know. Yes. Yes, we’ll sail on a blighted sea for a new land, we’ll arrive … arrive, so to speak and so on, arrive on a new and dawning day, again so to speak, and Addie will make Indian carvings, reminders to our hordes of forthcoming descendants, and I … yes, I’ll search the jungles for food and shelter and primitive niceties, and we’ll start afresh.’
‘You’re drunk,’ Grace said.
‘Or perhaps Africa,’ said Addie, who seemed to be enjoying it. ‘You haven’t forgotten Africa?’
‘Don’t egg him on.’
The bomb shelter was very warm, concrete hot, and the lanterns were swinging.
‘Africa,’ Harvey stammered. ‘Ah, yes. Where are we going?’
‘Outside,’ Perry said.
Harvey stared. ‘Think of your testicles, man.’
Addie helped with him. They led him outside.
‘The old man wasn’t so crazy, you know. Not all that bloody crazy. Do we have a beer?’
‘Gallons.’
‘Thank God for that.’
‘Can you walk?’
‘Can I walk? Am I mad? What bloody nonsense. A time of national-emergency and of course I can walk. I can walk, be damned! A beer.’ Harvey threw an arm around Addie’s brown shoulder.
They came out of the bomb shelter.
Mammoth clouds had stiffened over the forest, very high and well to the southwest. Tumbling, flopping like earth under a spade, swirling in, coalescing and darkening and fusing into a single expansive element over the forest.
Harvey sniffed the air. ‘Mustard gas. Jesus of Mercy, who would’ve thought they still had mustard gas?’
The promise was great.
There was certain rhythm.
Jud Harmor still sat in his lawn chair. His eyes were closed.
‘Poor old Jud,’ Harvey muttered. ‘Stuff got to him … We must all now buck up. The end is coming and we shall go with class. A little class never hurt. Buck up, chaps. Let us mourn old Jud, a finer man, parades and all.’
The clouds swirled high, a breathing, soft respiration. Harvey filled a paper cup with beer. ‘A toast to Jud! A finer man we could not find, a finer man …’ Odours rose from the forest tissue, compounds of chlorophyll and wastes. Great cavities opened, steam rose from the leaves, the clouds tumbled high, vapours filled the forest, obscene smells of salamanders and pine. ‘The end is with us,’ chanted Harvey. ‘And the old man was not crazy at all.’ The clouds stiffened and swelled. Old Jud lay in the lawn chair, eyes closed as the clouds rolled towards Lake Superior, huge and threatening but refusing to rain. ‘Let us … let us mourn old Jud,’ Harvey was saying. ‘A free spirit. A false prophet. A free spirit, thank God, free, free at last, old Jud.’
‘Hush,’ Grace whispered. ‘He’s sleeping.’
‘Ha! Aha, you’ll see. You’ll see. The fallout’s got him, sure as hell. Look at him. Let’s examine the old gent’s testicles. Ha, that’ll tell the old tale.’
‘Just relax.’
Perry brought out four chairs. They watched the clouds roll towards the great lake.
Jud suddenly sat up. He started cackling, raised his fist up. ‘What did I say?’
The air was hot.
Energy charged out of the clouds. The sky went, wild. Thunder created a wind of its own.
‘Marvellous,’ Addie breathed.
The clouds moved fast.
‘Heat storm,’ Jud cackled. ‘What did I say?’
The storm tumbled over on itself, and there was no rain. Grace pulled her sweater tight. Addie lay back in her chair. Harvey was shivering. A slice of electricity shot like white ribbon from the clouds. ‘Marvellous,’ Addie murmured. Her eyes were black. The clouds tumbled and flopped, rushing eastwards, the lightning exploding in fluffs, the whole forest stopped. Grace whispered something. Addie’s eyes were black. She was barefoot. Her feet were under her, her legs were dark. The sky crashed. Grace was whispering. He watched Addie. Her cheekbones were high and shining. Asiatic, Indian, primitive, shining, upward looking, and the lightning flashed again, and her hair was long and back over her shoulders without knots or bows or curls. ‘We should be going in,’ Grace was whispering, but the heat storm thrashed in the forest, all around them, and the wind swept in hot, and Addie’s eyes were lighted, and Grace whispered, ‘We should go inside.’ She whispered, ‘I’m cold, hon.’
‘What?’
‘I’m cold.’
He heard her. He curled an arm around her. She could embarrass him.
Slowly the storm rolled overhead, high like a battle far off. It rolled towards the east and left a clean night sky behind it. There was no rain.
Jud Harmor stood up. ‘Show’s over,’ he announced. He’d found his straw hat. ‘I’ll be going.’
Harvey did not get up. His eyes were wide open to the sky.
Perry helped the old man to his truck. Jud climbed in and slammed the door. He leaned his head out. ‘Just a lousy heat storm,’ he said. ‘You gotta watch your brother. I think he’s insane.’
He lay there. The storm was over.
Restless, he got out of bed and went to the window. A light was burning in the bomb shelter. He showered, lay down again. ‘Sleep,’ he said. He tried not to think. Addie. It didn’t matter. Grace was awake. She whispered something.
He got up, went to the bathroom and shaved. Then he dressed. He roamed about, restless, tried to read, sat at the