gs.earthabides-第7章

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　　〃Oh；　just　wandering　around；〃　said　Ish；　and　the　woman　giggled。　
　　Ish　turned　and　walked　toward　the　car；　more　than　half　expecting　to　be　shot　in　the　back。　He　made　it；　got　into　the　car；　and　drove　away。。。　
　　He　had　heard　no　sounds　this　time；　but　as　he　turned　the　corner；　there　she　was；　standing　in　the　middle　of　the　street；　a　long…legged　teen…age　girl　with　stringy　blond　hair。　She　stood；　suddenly　stopped；　as　a　deer　stands　surprised　in　a　glade。　With　a　quick　movement　of　a　shrewd　and　hunted　thing；　she　leaned　forward；　squinting　against　the　sun　into　the　windshield；　trying　to　see　who　was　there。　Then　she　turned　and　ran　swiftly；　again　like　a　deer。　She　dodged　through　a　hole　in　a　board　fence　and　was　gone。　
　　He　walked　down　to　the　hole　in　the　fence；　and　looked　through　it；　and　called；　and　called　again。　He　had　no　reply。　He　half　expected　there　would　be　at　least　a　mocking　laugh　from　some　window；　or　the　flip　of　a　skirt　around　a　corner；　and　if　he　had　had　even　as　much　encouragement　as　that；　he　would　have　continued　the　pursuit。　But　there　was　nothing　flirtatious　about　this　one。　Perhaps　she　had　had　experiences　already；　and　knew　that　in　such　times　the　only　safety　for　a　young　girl　was　in　quick　and　final　flights。　He　waited　around　some　minutes；　but　nothing　happened；　and　so　he　went　on。。。。　
　　Again　there　had　been　horn…signals；　but　they　had　stopped　before　Ish　could　get　to　them。　He　drove　around　in　the　vicinity　for　some　minutes；　and　at　last　saw　an　old　man　ing　out　of　a　grocery　store；　pushing　a　baby…carriage　piled　high　with　canned　goods　and　cartons。　When　Ish　came　closer；　he　saw　that　the　old　man　was　perhaps　not　so　very　old。　If　his　scraggly　white　beard　had　been　shaved　away；　he　might　have　appeared　a　vigorous　sixty。　As　it　was；　he　was　unkempt　and　dirty；　and　his　clothes　looked　as　if　he　had　been　sleeping　in　them。　
　　Of　the　few　whom　he　had　met　that　day；　Ish　found　the　old　man　most　municative；　and　yet　he　too　stood　off　by　himself。　He　took　Ish　to　his　house　near　by；　which　he　was　stocking　of　all　manner　of　things…some　useful；　some　quite　useless。　The　mere　mania　of　possession　had　taken　mand；　and　the　old　man　was　well　on　the　way；　without　restraints；　toward　being　the　typical　hermit　and　miser。　In　the　former　life；　Ish　learned；　the　old　man　had　actually　been　married。　He　had　been　a　clerk　in　a　hardware　store。　Yet　probably　he　had　always　been　unhappy　and　lonely；　restricted　in　his　contacts　with　other　people。　Now；　apparently；　he　was　happier　than　he　had　been　before；　because　there　was　no　one　to　interfere　with　him　and　he　could　merely　withdraw　and　store　up　around　himself　all　these　material　goods。　He　had　canned　food；　sometimes　in　neat　boxes；　sometimes　in　mere　piles　and　heaps　of　cans。　But　he　also　had　a　dozen　crates　of　oranges；　more　than　he　could　possibly　eat　before　they　spoiled。　He　had　beans　in　cellophane　bags；　and　one　of　the　bags　had　broken　already；　spilling　the　beans　across　the　floor。　
　　In　addition　to　food　he　had　boxes　and　boxes　of　electric…light　bulbs　and　radio…tubes；　a　cello　（though　he　could　not　play）；　a　high　pile　of　one　issue　of　the　same　magazine；　a　dozen　alarm　clocks；　and　a　host　of　other　miscellaneous　materials　which　he　had　collected；　not　with　any　definite　idea　of　use；　but　merely　for　the　fortable　feeling　of　security　which　came　to　him　from　surrounding　himself　with　all　kinds　of　possessions。　The　old　man　was　pleasant　enough；　but　he　was　already；　Ish　reflected；　essentially　dead。　The　shock；　reacting　upon　his　already　withdrawn　character；　had　sent　him　close　to　insanity。　He　would　merely　go　on　piling　up　things　around　himself；　living　to　himself；　withdrawing　farther　and　farther。　
　　Yet；　when　Ish　started　to　leave；　the　old　man　seized　his　arm　in　panic。　
　　〃Why　did　it　happen？〃　he　asked　wildly。　〃Why　am　I　spared？〃　
　　Ish　looked　in　disgust　at　the　suddenly　terror…stricken　face。　The　mouth　was　open；　it　seemed　drooling。　
　　〃Yes；〃　he　snapped　back；　angry；　and　glad　to　express　his　anger；　〃yes…why　were　you　spared　and　so　many　better　men　taken？〃　
　　The　old　man　glanced　involuntarily　about　him。　His　fear　was　now　abject；　inhuman。　
　　〃That's　what　I　was　afraid　of！〃　he　half…whispered。　
　　Ish　reacted　into　pity。　
　　〃Oh；　e　on！〃　he　said。　〃There's　nothing　to　be　afraid　of！　Nobody　knows　why　you　survived。　You　were　never　bitten　by　a　rattlesnake；　were　you？〃　
　　〃No…〃　
　　〃Well；　no　matter。　This　business　of　natural　immunity；　I　believe…nobody　understands　it。　But　even　in　the　worst　pestilences　not　everybody　gets　sick。〃　
　　But　the　other　shook　his　head。　〃I　must　have　been　a　great　sinner；〃　he　said。　
　　〃Well；　in　that　case；　you　should　have　been　taken。　
　　〃He…〃　the　old　man　paused　and　looked　around；　〃He　may　be　reserving　me　for　something　special。〃　And　he　shivered。。。。　
　　Approaching　the　toll…gates；　Ish　felt　himself　automatically　begin　to　wonder　whether　he　had　a　quarter　handy　for　toll。　During　a　wild　second　he　imagined　himself　playing　an　insane　scene　in　which　he　slowed　the　car　down　and　held　out　an　imaginary　coin　to　an　imaginary　hand　stretched　out　to　take　it。　But；　though　he　had　to　slow　the　car　a　little　to　go　through　the　narrow　passageway；　he　did　not　stretch　out　his　hand。　
　　He　had　told　himself　that　he　would　cross　to　San　Francisco；　and　see　what　things　were　like　there。　Once　on　the　bridge；　however；　he　realized　that　the　bridge　itself　had　drawn　him。　It　was　the　largest　and　boldest　work　of　man　in　the　whole　area；　like　all　bridges；　it　was　a　symbol　of　unity　and　security。　The　thought　of　going　to　San　Francisco　had　been　an　excuse。　He　had　really　wished　to　renew　some　kind　of　munion　with　the　symbol　of　the　bridge　itself。　
　　Now　it　lay　empty。　Where　six　lines　of　cars　had　speeded　east　and　west；　now　the　white　lines　on　the　pavement　stretched　off　unbroken　toward　their　meeting　at　infinity。　A　seagull　that　was　perched　on　the　railing　flapped　lazily　as　the　sound　of　the　car　drew　close；　and　slid　off　on　a　downward　plane。　
　　At　a　whim；　he　crossed　to　the　left　side　and　drove　unobstructed　along　the　wrong　lane。　He　passed　through　the　tunnel；　and　the　high　towers　and　long　curves　of　the　suspension…bridge　rose　before　his　eyes　in　magnificent　perspective。　As　usual；　some　painting　had　been　in　progress；　to　contrast　with　the　prevailing　silver　gray；　one　cable　was　splotched　with　orange…red。　
　　Then　suddenly　he　saw　a　strange　sight。　One　car；　a　little　green　coupé；　was　parked　neatly　at　the　railing；　headed　toward　the　East　Bay。　
　　Ish　approached　it；　gazing　curiously。　He　saw　nobody；　or　nothing；　inside。　He　passed　it；　then；　yielding　to　curiosity；　he　swung　his　car　around　in　a　wide　easy　loop；　and　parked　beside　the　coupé。　
　　He　opened　the　door　and　looked　in。　No；　nothing！　The　driver；　despairing；　feeling　the　sickness　upon　him…had　he　parked　there；　and　then　leaped　over　the　railing？　Or　had　he；　or　she；　merely　suffered　a　breakdown；　and　flagged　another　car；　or　walked　on？　Some　keys　were　still　dangling　from　the　dashboard；　the　certificate　of　registration　was　fastened　to　the　steering…column…John　S。　Robertson；　of　some　number　on　Fifty…fourth　Street；　Oakland。　An　undistinguished　name　and　an　undistinguished　address！　Now　Mr。。　Robertson's　car　had　possession　of　the　bridge！　
　　Only　after　he　was　again　entering　the　tunnel　did　Ish　think　that　he　might　at　least　have　settled　the　question　as　to　a　breakdown　by　seeing　whether　he　could　start　the　car。　But　it　did　not　really　matter…any　more　than　it　mattered　that　he　was　heading　toward　the　East　Bay　again。　Having　swung　around　to　park　beside　the　coupé；　he　had　merely　continued　on　in　the　direction　toward　which　he　was　pointed。　He　had　already　realized　that　there　would　be　no　utility　in　visiting　San　Francisco。。。。　
　　Soon　afterward；　as　he　had　promised；　Ish　came　again　to　the　street　where　in　the　morning　he　had　talked　（if　it　could　be　called　talking）　with　the　drunk　man。　
　　He　found　the　body　lying　on　the　sidewalk　in　front　of　the　liquor　store。　〃After　all；〃　Ish　reflected；　〃there　is　a　limit　to　the　amount　of　alcohol　that　any　human　can　absorb。〃　Remembering　the　eyes；　he　could　not　be　sorry。　
　　No　dogs　were　in　the　vicinity　as　yet；　but　Ish　did　not　like　to　leave　the　body　merely　lying　there。　After　all；　he　had　known　and　talked　to　Mr。　Barlow。　He　could　not　figure　out　just　where　or　how　he　could　perform　a　burial。　So　he　found　some　blankets　in　a　near…by　dry…goods　store；　and　wrapped　the　body　carefully　in　these。　Then　he　lifted　Mr。　Barlow　into　the　seat　of　the　car；　and　closed　the　windows　carefully。　It　would　make　a　tight　and　lasting　mausoleum。　
　　He　said　no　words；　for　they　seemed　hardly　in　place。　But　he　looked　through　the　window　at　the　neat　roll　of　blankets；　and　thought　of　Mr。　Barlow；　who　was　probably　a　good　guy；　but　couldn't　survive　a　world　going　to　pieces　around　him。　And　then；　because　in　some　way　it　seemed　a　decent　thing　to　do；　Ish　took　off　his　hat；　and　stood　uncovered　a　few　seconds。。。。　
　　In　that　day；　as　in　some　ancient　time　when　a　great　king　was　overthrown　and　the　remnants　of　the　conquered　peoples　were　jubilant　against　him…in　that　day　will　the　fir　trees　rejoice　and　the　cedars；　crying　out：　〃Since　thou　art　laid　down；　no　feller　is　e　up　against　us？〃　Will　the　deer　and　the　foxes　and　the　quail　exult：　〃Art　thou　also　bee　weak　as　we；　Art　thou　bee　like　unto　us？　Is　this　the　man　that　made　the　earth　to　tremble？〃　
　　（〃Thy　pomp　is　brought　down　to　the　grave　and　the　noise　of　thy　viols；　the　worm　is　spread　under　thee　and　the　worms　cover　thee。〃）　
　　No…none　will　say　such　words；　and　none　will　be　left　to　think　them；　and　the　book　of　the　prophet　Isaiah　will　moulder　unread。　Only；　the　spike…buck　will　graze　farther　from　the　thicket　without　knowing　why；　and　the　fox…cubs　play　beside　the　dry　fountain　in　the　square；　and　the　quad　hatch　her　eggs　in　the　tall　grass　by　the　sundial。　
　　Toward　the　end　of　the　day；　swinging　in　a　wide　detour　to　avoid　one　of　those　noisome　regions　where　the　dead　bodies　lay　thickly；　Ish　came　back　to　the　house　on　San　Lupo　Drive。　
　　He　had　learned　much。　The　Great　Disaster…so　he　had　begun　to　call　it　to　himself…had　not　been　plete。　
　　Therefore　he　did　not　need　immediately　to　mit　his　future　to　the　first　person　he　met。　He　would　do　better　to　pick　and　choose　a　little；　particularly　since　everyone　he　had　so　far　seen　was　obviously　suffering　from　shock。　
　　A　new　idea　was　shaping　in　his　mind　and　a　new　phrase　with　it…Secondary　Kill。　Of　those　that　the　Great　Disaster　had　spared；　many　would　fall　victim　to　some　trouble　from　which　civilization　had　previously　protected　them。　With　unlimited　liquor　they　would　drink　themselves　to　death。　There　had　been；　he　guessed；　murder；　almost　certainly　there　had　been　suicide。　Some；　like　the　old　man；　who　ordinarily　would　have　lived　normal　enough　lives；　would　be　pushed　over　the　line　into　insanity　by　shock　and　the　need　of　readjustment；　such　ones　would　probably　not　survive　long。　Some　would　meet　with　accident；　being　alone；　they　would　die。　Others　would　die　of　disease　which　no　one　was　left　to　treat。　He　knew　that；　biologically　speaking；　there　was　a　critical　point　in　the　numbers　of　any　species…if　the　numbers　were　reduced　below　this　point；　the　species　could　not　recover。　
　　Was　mankind　going　to　survive？　Well；　that　was　one　of　those　interesting　points　which　gave　him　the　will　to　live。　But　certainly　the　result　of　his　day's　research　gave　him　little　confidence。　In　fact；　if　these　survivors　were　typical；　who　would　wish　mankind　to　survive？　
　　He　had　started　out　in　the　morning　with　a　Robinson…Cmsoe　feeling　that　he　would　wele　any　human　panionship。　He　had