Спрут: Каліфорнійська історія

           Butdistrustinghisownsenses,unwillingtosubmithimselftosuchtorturing,uncertainhappiness,aversetotheterribleconfusionofspiritthatfolloweduponanightspentinthegarden,Vanameehadtriedtokeepawayfromtheplace.However,whenthesorrowofhislifereassailedhim,andthethoughtsandrecollectionsofAngelebroughttheacheintohisheart,andthetearstohiseyes,thetemptationtoreturntothegardeninvariablygrippedhimclose.Thereweretimeswhenhecouldnotresist.Ofthemselves,hisfootstepsturnedinthatdirection.Itwasalmostasifhehimselfhadbeencalled.

           Guadalajarawassilent,dark.NoteveninSolotari’swastherealight.Thetownwasasleep.Onlytheinevitableguitarhummedfromanunseen’dobe.Vanameepushedon.Thesmellofthefieldsandopencountry,andadistantscentofflowersthatheknewwell,cametohisnostrils,asheemergedfromthetownbywayoftheroadthatledontowardstheMissionthroughQuienSabe.Oneithersideofhimlaythebrownearth,silentlynurturingtheimplantedseed.Twodaysbeforeithadrainedcopiously,andthesoil,stillmoist,disengagedapungentaromaoffecundity.

           Vanamee,followingtheroad,passedthroughthecollectionofbuildingsofAnnixter’shomeranch.Everythingslept.Atintervals,theaer-motorontheartesianwellcreakedaudibly,asitturnedinalanguidbreezefromthenortheast.Acat,huntingfield-mice,creptfromtheshadowofthegiganticbarnandpauseduncertainlyintheopen,thetipofhertailtwitching.