Read Online Here at the End of the World We Learn to Dance by Lloyd Jones - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lloyd Jones
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all alone.
At night when the wind blows down off the hills they lie in their sand beds with the thought that they are as powerless as the cows that stand in their dark paddocks. As vulnerable as the land peaking out to sea. Anything could happen. An earthquake. A giant wave might engorge the cave and suck them out to join the echo of the ocean and of nothingness.
By the fourth day it is clear to Louise that things are not going to pan out the way she thought they would. The world hasnât missed them at all.The world isnât even out searching. Either that, or theyâve done too good a job of hiding and now they are left with just themselves. Louise in her fraying dress. Paul Schmidt with that secret country he carries within. Self-sufficient and the least ruffled of them, always he seems locked in his thoughts, travelling between the here and there. Billy, cat smart, watchful. And Henry, glum, bored with the adventure, like a child in his persistence, asking every hour, why hasnât Tom come for them? Why hasnât Tom brought the good news that heâs sorted out things and they are now free to return to their other life? Why have they been left to hang here like this?
The same question preoccupies them all. Billy is given to standing in the mouth of the cave where he quizzes the sea.
Schmidt has made a particular rock his own. He can spend hours sitting on it, alone, knees, chin and elbows. The moment he senses anyoneâs eyes on him he returns their interest with a smile. Louise hasnât heard him complain onceâeven in the morning he never joins in the chorus of groans. She watches him sitting on his rock and thinks he is like a man waiting for a late-arriving train. Most days a trawler is seen out to sea. A single vee slicing a line for farther up the coast. It is always Billy who hisses at her to get down from the rock. Billy is always on the lookout. Every morning he climbs the cliff behind the cave to check their position in case in the night there has occurred some rearrangement. Billy is the one most suspicious of the world. She doesnât get down from the rock, though. She doesnât believe that the trawler has seen them. Sheâs convinced of their invisibility. Besides, sheâs been out on her fatherâs boat and knows about the bulge in the sea and how the shoreline disappears from view.
One night Schmidt tells a story about South American animals with magical powers who at night turn themselves into ghosts and sneak into villages, passing through the front door of houses, searching the shelves for food.
In the ensuing silence it is Billy Pohl who speaks up. âWeâre not about to do that,â he says.
Of the unmentionable things, of all the things she is sure preoccupies Billy, it is this. What if Henry bolts? What if one morning they wake up and find him gone? That would be it then, wouldnât it? That would mean the end. It would only be a matter of time before a sheepish-looking Henry led the authorities to their whereabouts.
The prospect made her smile. A sense of relief loosened within her; for the moment it was as if Henry had already gone and done that and now there was just a short period of waiting to get through before the dogs and handlers showed up. She looked over at Paul Schmidt sitting on the rock, crossed arms, locked in a dream.They would let him go, and he would say adieu.To where? Abroad? He wouldnât stay a piano tuner. Or if he did, it wouldnât be here. Europe? Not with all the fighting. He would go to Argentina. He would go to that place he describes at night around the fire. He would go there and lose himself in a new language. She thinks how wonderful that would be, to simply leave and arrive, and in time become local. It makes her feel a little sad, even envious. And what about Henry and Billy? What would happen to them? Well, thatâs easy, isnât it. They would be marched off to the war to be killed out of
At night when the wind blows down off the hills they lie in their sand beds with the thought that they are as powerless as the cows that stand in their dark paddocks. As vulnerable as the land peaking out to sea. Anything could happen. An earthquake. A giant wave might engorge the cave and suck them out to join the echo of the ocean and of nothingness.
By the fourth day it is clear to Louise that things are not going to pan out the way she thought they would. The world hasnât missed them at all.The world isnât even out searching. Either that, or theyâve done too good a job of hiding and now they are left with just themselves. Louise in her fraying dress. Paul Schmidt with that secret country he carries within. Self-sufficient and the least ruffled of them, always he seems locked in his thoughts, travelling between the here and there. Billy, cat smart, watchful. And Henry, glum, bored with the adventure, like a child in his persistence, asking every hour, why hasnât Tom come for them? Why hasnât Tom brought the good news that heâs sorted out things and they are now free to return to their other life? Why have they been left to hang here like this?
The same question preoccupies them all. Billy is given to standing in the mouth of the cave where he quizzes the sea.
Schmidt has made a particular rock his own. He can spend hours sitting on it, alone, knees, chin and elbows. The moment he senses anyoneâs eyes on him he returns their interest with a smile. Louise hasnât heard him complain onceâeven in the morning he never joins in the chorus of groans. She watches him sitting on his rock and thinks he is like a man waiting for a late-arriving train. Most days a trawler is seen out to sea. A single vee slicing a line for farther up the coast. It is always Billy who hisses at her to get down from the rock. Billy is always on the lookout. Every morning he climbs the cliff behind the cave to check their position in case in the night there has occurred some rearrangement. Billy is the one most suspicious of the world. She doesnât get down from the rock, though. She doesnât believe that the trawler has seen them. Sheâs convinced of their invisibility. Besides, sheâs been out on her fatherâs boat and knows about the bulge in the sea and how the shoreline disappears from view.
One night Schmidt tells a story about South American animals with magical powers who at night turn themselves into ghosts and sneak into villages, passing through the front door of houses, searching the shelves for food.
In the ensuing silence it is Billy Pohl who speaks up. âWeâre not about to do that,â he says.
Of the unmentionable things, of all the things she is sure preoccupies Billy, it is this. What if Henry bolts? What if one morning they wake up and find him gone? That would be it then, wouldnât it? That would mean the end. It would only be a matter of time before a sheepish-looking Henry led the authorities to their whereabouts.
The prospect made her smile. A sense of relief loosened within her; for the moment it was as if Henry had already gone and done that and now there was just a short period of waiting to get through before the dogs and handlers showed up. She looked over at Paul Schmidt sitting on the rock, crossed arms, locked in a dream.They would let him go, and he would say adieu.To where? Abroad? He wouldnât stay a piano tuner. Or if he did, it wouldnât be here. Europe? Not with all the fighting. He would go to Argentina. He would go to that place he describes at night around the fire. He would go there and lose himself in a new language. She thinks how wonderful that would be, to simply leave and arrive, and in time become local. It makes her feel a little sad, even envious. And what about Henry and Billy? What would happen to them? Well, thatâs easy, isnât it. They would be marched off to the war to be killed out of
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