"Джек Керуак. Big Sur (engl)" - читать интересную книгу автораthere aint no light can take hold - So I start my trudge, pack aback, just
head down following my lamp spot, head down but eyes suspiciously peering a little up, like a man in the presence of a dangerous idiot he doesn't want to annoy The dirt road starts up a little, curves to the right, starts down a little, then suddenly up again, and up By now the sea roar is further back and at one point I even stop and look back to see nothing - "I'm gonna put out my light and see what I can see" I stay rooted to my feet where they're rooted to that road Fat lotta good, when I put out the light I see nothing but the dim sand at my feet. Trudging up and getting further away from the sea roar I get to feel more confident but suddenly I come to a frightening thing in the road, I stop and hold out my hand, edge forward, it's only a cattle crossing (iron bars imbedded across the road) but at the same time a big blast of wind comes from the left where the bluff should be and I spot that way and see nothing. "What the hell's going on! " "Fol-low the road, " says the other voice trying to be calm so I do but the next instant I hear a rattling to my right, throw my light there, see nothing but bushes wiggling dry and mean and just the proper high canyonwall kind of bushes fit for rattlesnakes too - (which it was, a rattlesnake doesnt like to be awakened in the middle of the night by a trudging humpback monster with a lamp). But now the road's going down again, the reassuring bluff reappears on my left, and pretty soon according to my memory of Lorry's map there she is, the creek, I can hear her lappling and gabbing down there at the bottom of the dark where at least I'll be on level ground and done with booming airs somewhere above - But the closer I get to the creek as the road dips steeply, suddenly, almost making me trot forward, the louder it roars, I screaming like a raging flooded river right below me - Besides it's even darker down there than anywhere! There are glades down there, ferns of horror and slippery logs, mosses, dangerous plashings, humid mists rise coldly like the breath of death, big dangerous trees are beginning to bend over my head and brush my pack - There's a noise I know can only grow louder as I sink down and for fear how loud it can grow I stop and listen, it rises up crashing mysteriously at me from a raging battle among dark things, wood or rock or something cracked, all smashed, all wet black sunken earth danger - I'm afraid to go down there - I am affrayed in the old Edmund Spenser sense of being frayed by a whip, and a wet one at that - A slimy green dragon racket in the bush - An angry war that doesnt want me pokin around - It's been there a million years and it doesnt want me clashing darkness with it - It comes snarling from a thousand crevasses and monster redwood roots all over the map of creation - It is a dark clangoror in the rain forest and doesnt want no skid row bum to carry to the sea which is bad enough and waitin back there - I can almost feel the sea pulling at that racket in the trees but there's my spotlamp so all I gotta do is follow the lovely sand road which dips and dips in rising carnage and suddenly a flattening, a sight of bridge logs, there's the bridge rail, there's the creek just four feet below, cross the bridge you woken bum and see what's on the other shore. Take one quick peek at the water as you cross, just water over rocks, a small creek at that. And now before me is a dreamy meadowland with a good old corral gate and a barbed wire fence the road running right on left but this where I get |
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