pdouglas.thecodex-第45部分

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　up；　and　then；　half　an　hour　later；　he　would　have　to　do　the　same　for　her。
　They　arrived　at　an　open　area　where　a　giant　tree　had　fallen；　opening　a　hole　in　the　forest　canopy。　The　ground　around　it　was；　for　once；　relatively　level。　The　giant　tree　had　fallen　in　such　a　way　that　it　was　possible　to　shelter　under　its　enormous　trunk。
　Tom　could　barely　walk。　By　silent　mutual　consent；　they　all　stopped　to　camp。　He　felt　so　weak　that　he　wondered　if；　once　having　lain　down；　he'd　be　able　to　get　up　again。　With　the　last　of　their　strength　the　group　cut　poles　and　laid　them　against　the　trunk；　thatching　them　with　ferns。　It　seemed　to　be　around　noon。　They　crawled　underneath　and　huddled　together；　lying　directly　on　the　wet　ground　in　two　inches　of　mud。　Later；　Sally　and　Tom　made　another　attempt　at　hunting；　but　they　returned　well　before　dark　empty…handed。　They　huddled　under　the　log　as　the　long　darkness　descended。
　By　the　dying　light　Tom　examined　his　brother　Philip。　He　was　in　a　desperate　condition。　He　had　been　running　a　fever　and　had　bee　semicoherent。　There　were　great　hollows　where　his　cheeks　used　to　be　and　heavy　rings　under　his　eyes；　his　arms　were　like　sticks　with　swollen　elbows。　Some　of　the　infections　they　had　so　carefully　treated　had　reopened；　and　fresh　maggots　were　there。　Tom　felt　his　heart　breaking。　Philip　was　dying。
　Tom　knew；　in　his　gut；　that　none　of　them　was　going　to　be　leaving　that　miserable　little　clearing。
　The　listless　apathy　of　incipient　starvation　overtook　them　all。　Tom　lay　awake　most　of　that　night；　unable　to　sleep。　The　rain　lifted　during　the　night；　and　when　dawn　came　the　sunlight　broke　over　the　treetops。　For　the　first　time　in　weeks　he　could　see　blue　sky…spotless　blue　sky。　Sunlight　streamed　down　through　the　opening　in　the　treetops。　Banners　of　light　caught　columns　of　insects；　turning　them　into　whirling　tornadoes　of　light。　Steam　rose　from　the　giant　log。
　It　was　so　ironic：　The　break　in　the　trees　framed　a　picture…perfect　view　of　the　Sierra　Azul。　Here　they　had　been　struggling　for　a　week　in　the　opposite　direction；　and　the　mountains　looked　even　closer　than　ever：　the　peaks　rising　through　tatters　of　cloud；　as　blue　as　cut　sapphires。　Tom　no　longer　felt　hungry。　This　is　what　starvation　does　to　you；　he　thought。
　He　felt　a　hand　on　his　shoulder。　It　was　Sally。
　〃e　over　here。〃　She　spoke　in　a　grave　voice。
　Tom　was　suddenly　afraid。　〃It's　not　Philip？〃
　〃No。　It's　Don　Alfonso。〃
　Tom　got　up　and　followed　Sally　down　the　length　of　trunk　to　where　Don　Alfonso　had　laid　his　hammock　directly　on　the　wet　ground。　He　was　lying　on　his　side；　staring　at　the　Sierra　Azul。　Tom　knelt　and　took　his　withered　old　hand。　It　was　hot。
　〃I　am　sorry；　Tomasito；　but　I　am　a　useless　old　man。　I　am　so　useless　that　I　am　dying。〃
　〃Don't　talk　like　that；　Don　Alfonso。〃　He　put　his　hand　on　Don　Alfonso's　forehead　and　was　shocked　by　the　heat。
　〃Death　has　e　calling；　and　one　cannot　say　to　Death；　'e　back　next　week；　I'm　busy。'　〃
　Did　you　dream　of　St。　Peter　again　last　night　or　something？〃　Sally　asked。
　〃One　does　not　need　to　dream　of　St。　Peter　to　know　when　the　end　has　e。〃
　Sally　glanced　at　Tom。　〃Do　you　have　any　idea　what　he's　got？〃
　〃Without　diagnostic　tests；　Woodwork；　a　microscope　。。。〃　He　swore　and　stood　up；　fighting　a　wave　of　faintness。　We've　had　it；　he　thought。　It　made　him　angry　in　some　vague　way。　It　wasn't　fair。
　He　brushed　those　useless　thoughts　out　of　his　head　and　checked　on　Philip。　He　was　sleeping。　Like　Don　Alfonso　he　had　a　high　fever；　and　Tom　wasn't　even　sure　he　would　ever　awaken。　Vernon　got　a　fire　going　despite　Don　Alfonso's　muttered　entreaties　not　to　light　one；　and　Sally　brewed　a　medicinal　tea。　His　whole　face　had　sagged；　collapsing　inward；　the　skin　losing　its　color　and　taking　on　a　waxy　hue。　His　breathing　was　labored；　but　he　was　still　conscious。　〃I　will　drink　your　tea；　Curandera；〃　he　said；　〃but　not　even　your　medicine　will　save　me。〃
　She　knelt。　〃Don　Alfonso；　you've　talked　yourself　into　dying。　You　can　talk　yourself　out　of　it。〃
　He　took　her　hand。　〃No；　Curandera；　my　time　has　e。〃
　〃You　can't　know　that。〃
　〃My　death　was　foretold。〃
　〃I　don't　want　to　hear　any　more　absurdities。　You　can't　see　into　the　future。〃
　〃When　I　was　a　little　boy；　I　had　a　bad　fever；　and　my　mother　took　me　to　a　bruja；　a　witch。　The　bruja　told　me　that　my　time　of　dying　was　not　then；　but　that　I　would　die　far　from　home；　among　strangers；　within　sight　of　blue　mountains。〃　His　eyes　glanced　up　at　the　Sierra　Azul；　framed　in　the　gap　in　the　treetops。
　〃She　could　have　been　talking　about　any　blue　mountains。〃
　〃Curandera；　she　was　talking　about　those　mountains；　which　are　as　blue　as　the　great　ocean　itself。〃
　Sally　blinked　away　a　tear。　〃Don　Alfonso；　quit　talking　nonsense。〃
　At　this；　Don　Alfonso　smiled。　〃It　is　a　wonderful　thing　when　an　old　man　has　a　beautiful　girl　weeping　at　his　deathbed。〃
　〃This　isn't　your　deathbed；　and　I'm　not　crying。〃
　〃Do　not　worry；　Curandera。　This　is　no　surprise　to　me。　I　came　on　this　journey　knowing　it　would　be　my　last。　I　was　a　useless　old　man　back　in　Pito　Solo。　I　did　not　want　to　die　in　my　hut　a　weak；　foolish　old　person。　I；　Don　Alfonso　Boswas；　I　wanted　to　die　as　a　man。〃　He　paused；　drew　a　breath；　shuddered。　〃Only　I　did　not　think　I　would　die　under　a　rotten　log　in　the　stinking　mud；　leaving　you　alone。〃
　〃Then　don't　die。　We　love　you；　Don　Alfonso。　The　hell　with　that　bruja。〃
　Don　Alfonso　took　her　hand　and　smiled。　〃Curandera；　there　is　one　thing　the　bruja　got　wrong。　She　said　I　was　going　to　die　among　strangers。　This　is　not　true。　I　die　among　friends。〃
　He　closed　his　eyes　and　murmured　something；　and　then　he　died。
　
　45
　
　Sally　wept。　Tom　stood　up　and　looked　away；　feeling　his　unreasonable　anger　grow。　He　walked　a　little　way　into　the　forest。　There；　in　a　quiet　glade；　he　sat　on　a　log；　clenching　and　unclenching　his　fists。　The　old　man　had　no　right　to　leave　them。　He　had　abandoned　himself　to　his　superstitions。　He　had　talked　himself　into　dying…just　because　he　had　glimpsed　some　blue　mountains。
　Tom　thought　back　to　the　first　time　he　saw　Don　Alfonso；　sitting　on　the　little　stool　in　his　hut；　waving　his　machete　and　joking。　It　seemed　a　lifetime　ago。
　They　dug　a　grave　in　the　mucky　ground。　It　was　a　slow；　exhausting　process；　and　they　were　so　weak　they　could　barely　lift　the　shovel。　Tom　couldn't　help　thinking；　When　will　I　be　doing　this　for　Philip？　Tomorrow？　They　finished　the　grave　around　noon；　wrapped　Don　Alfonso's　body　in　his　hammock；　rolled　him　into　the　waterlogged　hole；　and　threw　some　damp　flowers　on　top。　Then　they　filled　in　the　hole　with　mud。　Tom　fashioned　a　rough　cross　lashed　with　vines　and　planted　it　at　the　head　of　the　grave。　They　stood　around　awkwardly　afterward。
　〃I'd　like　to　say　a　few　words；〃　said　Vernon。
　He　stood；　swaying　a　little。　His　clothes　hung　on　his　body；　and　his　beard　and　hair　were　wild。　He　looked　like　a　mendicant。
　〃Don　Alfonso　。。。〃　his　voice　trailed　off。　He　coughed。　〃If　you're　still　around　somewhere；　before　heading　up　to　the　Pearly　Gates；　stick　around　a　bit　and　help　us　out；　will　you；　old　man？　We're　in　a　bad　way。〃
　〃Amen；〃　Sally　said。
　Dark　clouds　began　to　roll　in；　ending　their　short；　sunny　respite。　There　was　a　roll　of　thunder　and　a　scattered　sound　of　drops　in　the　canopy　above。
　Sally　came　to　Tom。　〃I'm　going　hunting　again。〃
　Tom　nodded。　He　took　the　fishing　line　and　decided　to　try　his　luck　in　the　river　they　had　crossed　about　a　mile　back。　Vernon　stayed　to　take　care　of　Philip。
　They　returned　in　the　early　afternoon。　Sally　had　caught　nothing；　Tom　returned　with　a　single　fish　that　weighed　no　more　than　six　ounces。　While　they　were　gone　Philip　had　developed　a　high　fever　and　delirium。　His　eyes　were　open　and　glittered　with　heat；　and　he　moved　his　head　back　and　forth　in　a　ceaseless　pattern；　mumbling　disconnected　phrases。　Tom　felt　sure　his　brother　was　now　dying。　When　they　tried　to　get　him　to　drink　the　tea　Sally　made；　he　began　shouting　incoherently　and　knocked　the　cup　away。　They　boiled　the　fish　in　a　pot　with　some　manioc　root　and　spoon…fed　the　stew　to　Philip；　who　finally　accepted　it　after　more　shouting　and　thrashing。　They　divided　the　rest　among　themselves。　After　eating；　they　remained　under　the　log　as　the　rain　poured　down；　waiting　for　darkness　to　e。
　Tom　was　the　first　to　wake；　just　before　dawn。　Philip's　fever　had　worsened　over　the　night。　He　tossed　and　mumbled；　his　fingers　plucking　uselessly　at　his　collar；　his　face　looking　collapsed　and　emaciated。　Tom　felt　desperate。　They　had　no　medicine　and　no　diagnostic　tools；　not　even　a　medical　kit。　Sally's　herbal　medicines　were　ineffectual　in　the　face　of　this　raging　fever。
　Vernon　built　a　fire；　and　they　sat　around　it　in　a　devastated　silence。　The　dark　ferns　loomed　about　them　like　a　menacing　crowd；　nodding　their　heads　under　the　impact　of　the　rain；　casting　a　green　dimness　over　their　refuge。
　Tom　finally　spoke。　〃We're　going　to　have　to　stay　here　until　Philip　recovers。〃
　Sally　and　Vernon　nodded；　although　they　all　knew　Philip　was　not　going　to　recover。
　〃We'll　make　an　all…out　effort　to　hunt；　fish；　and　gather　edible　plants。　We'll　use　this　time　to　build　up　our　strength　and　get　ready　for　the　long　trip　home。
　Again　everyone　agreed。
　〃All　right；〃　said　Tom；　rising。　〃Let's　get　to　work。　Sally　will　go　hunting。　I'm　going　to　take　the　fishing　line　and　hooks。　Vernon；　you　stay　here　and　take　care　of　Philip。〃　He　looked　around。　〃No　giving　up。〃
　They　all　stood　up　shakily；