Спрут: Калифорнийская история

           Theyarenotevensurethathedidthis.Henevermeantit.Theydon’tknowmyson.Why,hewouldn’thavehurtakitten.Everybodylovedhim.Hewasdriventoit.Theyhoundedhimdown,theywouldn’tlethimalone.Hewasnotrightinhismind.Theyhoundedhimtoit,”shecriedfiercely,“theyhoundedhimtoit.Theydrovehimandgoadedhimtillhecouldn’tstanditanylonger,andnowtheymeantokillhimforturningonthem.Theyarehuntinghimwithdogs;nightafternightIhavestoodontheporchandheardthedogsbayingfaroff.Theyaretrackingmyboywithdogslikeawildanimal.MayGodneverforgivethem.”Sherosetoherfeet,terrible,herwhitehairunbound.“MayGodpunishthemastheydeserve,maytheyneverprosper—onmykneesIshallprayforiteverynight—maytheirmoneybeacursetothem,maytheirsons,theirfirst-born,onlysons,betakenfromthemintheiryouth.”

           ButHilmainterrupted,begginghertobesilent,tobequiet.Thetearscameagainthenandthechokingsobs.Hilmatookherinherarms.

           “Oh,mylittleboy,mylittleboy,”shecried.“Myonlyson,allthatIhad,tohavecometothis!Hewasnotrightinhismindorhewouldhaveknownitwouldbreakmyheart.Oh,myson,myson,ifIcouldhavediedforyou.”

           Sidneycamein,clingingtoherdress,weeping,imploringhernottocry,protestingthattheynevercouldcatchherpapa,thathewouldcomebacksoon.Hilmatookthemboth,thelittlechildandthebroken-downoldwoman,inthegreatembraceofherstrongarms,andtheyallthreesobbedtogether.