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第31章 让心灵去旅行7（第1页）

srightaboutthetar:itledtowithinhalfamileoftheshore。ButwhenIgotbackthere，withmyboy，andwesettledintoacamnearafarmhouseandintothekindofsummertimeIhadknown，Icouldtellthatitwasgoingtoberettymuchthesameasithadbeenbefore—Iknewit，lyinginbedthefirstmorning，smellingthebedroom，andhearingtheboysneakquietlyoutandgooffalongtheshoreinaboat。IbegantosustaintheillusionthathewasI，andtherefore，bysimletransosition，thatIwasmyfather。Thissensationersisted，ketcroinguallthetimewewerethere。Itwasnotanentirelynewfeeing，butinthissettingitgrewmuchstronger。Iseemedtobelivingadualexistence。Iwouldbeinthemiddleofsomesimleact，Iwouldbeickinguabaitboxorlayingdownatablefork，orIwouldbesayingsomething，andsuddenlyitwouldbenotIbutmyfatherwhowassayingthewordsormakingthegesture。Itgavemeacreeysensation。

Wewentfishingthefirstmorning，Ifeltthesamedammosscoveringthewormsinthebaitcan，andsawthedragonflyalightonthetiofmyrodasithoveredafewinchesfromthesurfaceofthewater，itwasthearrivalofthisflythatconvincedmebeyondanydoubtthateverythingwasasitalwayshadbeen，thattheyearswereamirageandtherehadbeennoyears。Thesmallwaveswerethesame，chuckingtherowboatunderthechinaswefishedatanchor，andtheboatwasthesameboat，thesamecolorgreenandtheribsbrokeninthesamelace，andunderthefloor，boardsthesamefresh-waterleavingsanddebris-thedeadhellgrammite，thewissofmoss，therustydiscardedfishhook，thedriedbloodfromyesterday’scatch。Westaredsilentlyatthetisofourrods，atthedragonfliesthatcameandwent。Iloweredthetiofmineintothewater，tentatively，ensivelydislodgingthefly，whichdartedtwofeetaway，oised，dartedtwofeetback，andcametorestagainalittlefartherutherod。Therehadbeennoyearsbetweentheducklingofthisdragonflyandtheotherone—theonethatwasastofmemory。Ilookedattheboy，whowassilentlywatchinghisfly，anditwasmyhandsthatheldhisrod，myeyeswatching。Ifeltdizzyanddidn’tknowwhichrodIwasattheendof。

Wecaughttwobass，haulingtheminbrisklyasthoughtheyweremackerel，ullingthemoverthesideoftheboatinabusinesslikemannerwithoutanylandingnet，andstunningthemwithablowonthebackofthehead。Whenwegotbackforaswimbeforelunch，thelakewasexactlywherewehadleftit，thesamenumberofinchesfromthedock，andtherewasonlythemerestsuggestionofabreeze。Thisseemedanutterlyenchantedsea，thislakeyoucouldleavetoitsowndevicesforafewhoursandcomebackto，andfindthatithadnotstirred，thisconstantandtrustworthybodyofwater。Intheshallows，thedark，water-soakedsticksandtwigs，smoothandold，wereundulatinginclustersonthebottomagainstthecleanribbedsand，andthetrackofthemusselwaslain。Aschoolofminnowsswamby，eachminnowwithitssmallindividualshadow，doubling，theattendance，soclearandsharinthesunlight。Someoftheothercamerswereinswimming，alongtheshore，oneofthemwithacakeofsoa，andthewaterfeltthinandclearandunsubstantial。Overtheyearstherehadbeenthisersonwiththecakeofsoa，thiscultist，andherehewas。Therehadbeennoyears。

Utothefarmhousetodinnerthroughtheteeming，dustyfield，theroadunderoursneakerswasonlyatwo-trackroad。Themiddletrackwasmissing，theonewiththemarksofthehoovesandtheslotchesofdried，flakymanure。Therehadalwaysbeenthreetrackstochoosefrominchoosingwhichtracktowalkin，nowthechoicewasnarroweddowntotwo。ForamomentImissedterriblythemiddlealternative。Butthewayledastthetenniscourt;andsomethingaboutthewayitlaythereinthesunreassuredme，thetaehadloosenedalongthebackline，thealleysweregreenwithlantainsandotherweeds，andthenet（installedinJuneandremovedinSetember）saggedinthedrynoon，andthewholelacesteamedwithmiddayheatandhungerandemtiness。Therewasachoiceofiefordessert，andonewasblueberryandonewasale，andthewaitresseswerethesamecountrygirls，therehavingbeennoassageoftime，onlytheillusionofitasinadroedcurtain—thewaitresseswerestillfifteen;theirhairhadbeenwashed，thatwastheonlydifference—theyhadbeentothemoviesandseentherettygirlswiththecleanhair。

Summertime，ohsummertime，atternoflifeindelible，thefade-rooflake，thewoodsunshatterable，theasturewiththesweetfernandthejunierforever，andever，summerwithoutend;thiswasthebackground，andthelifealongtheshorewasthedesign，thecottagerswiththeirinnocentandtranquildesign，theirtinydockswiththeflagoleandtheAmericanflagfloatingagainstthewhitecloudsinthebluesky，thelittleathsovertherootsofthetreesleadingfromcamtocamandtheathsleadingbacktotheouthousesandthecanoflimeforsrinking，andatthesouvenircountersatthestoretheminiaturebirch-barkcanoesandtheostcardsthatshowedthingslookingalittlebetterthantheylooked。ThiswastheAmericanfamilyatlay，escaingthecityheat，wonderingwhetherthenewcomersinthecamattheheadofthecovewere“common”or“nice，”wonderingwhetheritwastruethattheeolewhodroveuforSundaydinneratthefarmhousewereturnedawaybecausetherewasn’tenoughchicken。

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