gs.earthabides-第17节

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dy　weeds　grow　up　a　little；　but　no　tree　or　vine　or　tall　grass　takes　root。　The　very　shade　trees　by　the　avenues；　lacking　man's　care；　die　in　their　shallow　pockets。　The　deer　and　the　rabbits　shun　the　empty　streets；　after　a　while　even　the　rats　go　away。　Only　the　flying　creatures　find　there　a　refuge…the　birds　nest　on　the　high　ledges；　and　at　morning　and　evening　the　bats　fly　out　and　in　through　the　few　broken　windows。　It　will　remain　a　long　time；　a　very　long　time。　
　　He　turned　south　on　Broadway；　thinking　to　follow　it　clear　to　the　Battery。　At　170th　Street；　however；　he　came　to　a　very　official…looking　STREET　CLOSED　sign　with　an　arrow　directing　him　to　detour　eastward。　He　could　have　driven　past　the　sign　and　ahead；　but　he　felt　a　caprice　to　yield　docilely　to　instructions。　He　drove　over　to　Amsterdam　Avenue；　and　then　went　south　again。　His　nostrils　let　him　know　that　the　Medical　Center　must　have　been　one　of　the　last　points　of　concentration；　and　that　the　detour　sign　had　been　put　up　to　give　directions　around　it。　
　　Amsterdam　Avenue　was　vacant　too。　Somewhere　in　these　vast　accumulations　of　concrete　and　brick　and　mortar　and　plaster；　somewhere　in　all　these　cave…like　holes　that　men　called　rooms；　somewhere　certainly；　some　people　must　be　living。　The　catastrophe　had　been　nearly　universal；　and　in　overcrowded　Manhattan　the　disease　had　probably　raged　even　more　severely　than　elsewhere。　Also；　he　thought；　what　he　had　e　to　call　the　Secondary　Kill　might　have　been　more　severe　in　a　wholly　urbanized　population。　Nevertheless；　he　had　already　learned；　that　a　few　people　had　survived　elsewhere；　and　surely　among　the　millions　of　Manhattan　there　would　be　some。　But　he　did　not　bother　to　blow　his　horn；　a　mere　straggler　here　and　there　he　had　found　to　be　of　little　interest　to　him　now。　
　　He　drove　on；　block　after　block。　Everything　was　quiet　and　motionless。　The　clouds　had　broken；　and　the　sun　stood　high　overhead；　but　the　sidewalks　were　as　empty　as　if　the　sun　had　been　the　moon　and　the　hour　had　been　three　in　the　morning。　Even　then　he　would　have　seen　a　beat…walking　policeman　or　have　met　a　night…hawk　cab。　He　passed　an　empty　playground。　
　　A　few　cars　were　parked　along　the　curbs。　He　remembered　that　his　father　had　driven　him　through　downtown　Manhattan　on　a　Sunday　when　even　Wall　Street　lay　deserted。　This　was　much　the　same；　but　worse。　
　　At　last；　near　Lewisohn　Stadium；　nuzzling　around　an　entryway；　two　thin…looking　dogs　supplied　the　first　sign　of　life。　In　the　next　block　he　saw　a　few　pigeons　fluttering　about；　not　many。　
　　He　drove　on；　passed　the　red…brick　buildings　of　Columbia'　University；　and　stopped　in　front　of　the　high；　still　unfinished　cathedral。　It　was　unfinished　now；　and　so　it　would　remain。　
　　He　pushed　at　the　door；　it　swung　open；　he　entered。　Momentarily　he　had　a　horrible　thought　that　he　might　find　the　nave；　Piled　with　the　bodies　of　those　who　at　the　last　hour　had　gathered　there　to　pray。　But　there　was　no　one。　He　walked　down　a　side　aisle；　and　went　into　the　little　chapels　of　the　apse；　one　after　another…those　where　the　English　and　the　French　and　the　Italians　and　all　the　others　of　that　teeming　polyglot　city　had　been　invited　to　kneel　and　worship。　The　sunlight　streamed　in　at　the　stained…glass　windows；　it　was　all　as　beautiful　as　he　remembered　from　before。　He　had　a　wild　desire　to　throw　himself　on　his　knees　before　one　of　the　altars。　〃There　are　no　atheists　in　fox　holes；〃　he　remembered；　but　the　whole　world　now　was　nothing　but　a　huge　fox　hole！　But　certainly　what　had　happened　did　not　inspire　one　to　think　that　God　was　particularly　interested　in　the　human　race；　or　in　its　individuals。　
　　He　walked　back　along　the　main　aisle。　Turning；　he　looked　up　the　nave；　and　let　its　grandeur　beat　in　upon　him。　He　felt　a　little　choking　in　the　throat。　This；　then；　was　the　end　of　all　man's　highest　striving　and　aspiration。。。。　He　went　out　to　the　empty　street；　and　got　into　the　car　again。　
　　At　Cathedral　Parkway　he　swung　east；　and　defying　traffic　signs　entered　Central　Park　and　went　south　along　the　East　Drive；　thinking　that　on　a　summer　day　people　might　go　to　the　Park　as　they　would　have　done　ordinarily。　But　he　saw　no　one。　From　his　previous　visit　as　a　boy　he　remembered　squirrels；　but　he　saw　no　squirrels　either；　starving　dogs　and　cats　had　apparendy　accounted　for　them　already。　On　a　meadow　he　saw　a　bison　bull　grazing；　not　far　off；　a　horse。　He　passed　the　back　of　the　Metropolitan　Museum；　and　saw　Cleopatra's　Needle；　now　doubly　orphaned。　At　Sherman's　statue　he　swung　into　Fifth　Avenue；　and　a　tag…end　of　verse　popped　into　his　mind：　〃Now　all　your　victories　are　in　vain。〃　
　　An　island　within　an　island；　the　green　oblong　of　the　Park　will　remain。　It　has　open　soil　where　the　rain　penetrates。　The　sun　shines　upon　it。　In　the　first　season　the　grass　grows　tall；　the　seeds　fall　from　the　trees　and　bushes；　the　birds　bring　in　more　seeds。　Give　it　two　seasons；　three　seasons；　and　the　eager　saplings　are　sprouting。　Give　it　twenty　years；　and　it　is　a　jungle　of　second　growth　with　each　tree　straining　upward　to　gain　light　above　itsfellows；　and　the　hardy　natives；　fast…growing　ash　and　maple；　crowding　out　the　soft　exotics　which　man　once　planted　there。　You　hardly　see　the　bridle　path　any　more；　leaf…litter　lies　thick　on　the　narrow　roads。　Give　it　a　hundred　years；　and　you　walk　in　full…grown　forest；　scarcely　knowing　that　man　was　ever　there　except　where　the　stone　arch　still　spans　the　under…pass；　making　a　strange　cave。　The　doe　walks　in　the　woods；　and　the　wild…cat　leaps　upon　the　rabbit；　and　the　bass　jumps　in　the　lake。　
　　In　the　tall　windows　of　the　fashion　shops；　the　mannequins　still　postured　strangely　in　gay　costumes；　their　jewelry　flashing。　But　Fifth　Avenue　lay　before　him　empty；　as　quiet　as　Main　Street　of　Podunk　on　a　Sunday　morning。　The　windows　of　one　great　jewelry　store　had　been　smashed。　〃I　hope；〃　thought　Ish；　〃he　found　the　diamonds　good　eating；　poor　guy。　No；　I　hope　he　was　somebody　who　liked　pretty　stones　because　they　were　pretty；　like　a　child　picking　them　up　on　the　beach。　Perhaps；　with　his　diamonds　and　rubies；　he　really　died　happier。〃　On　the　whole；　however；　there　was　little　disturbance　along　Fifth　Avenue。　〃The　corpse　is　laid　out　in　good　condition；〃　he　thought。　〃Yes；　Fifth　Avenue　makes　a　beautiful　corpse。〃　
　　A　few　pigeons　fluttered　up　at　Rockefeller　Center；　disturbed　now　by　the　sound　of　a　single　motor。　At　Forty…second　Street；　yielding　to　a　whim；　he　stopped　the　car　in　the　middle　of　Fifth　Avenue　and　got　out；　leaving　Princess　shut　up。　
　　He　walked　east　on　Forty…second　Street；　the　empty　sidewalk　ridiculously　wide。　He　entered　Grand　Central　Terminal；　and　looked　in　at　the　vast　expanse　of　waiting…room。　
　　〃Waugh！〃　he　called　loudly；　and　felt　a　child…like　pleasure　as　an　echo　came　reverberating　back　from　the　high　vault；　through　the　emptiness。　
　　He　wanderedd　back　to　the　street；　and　a　revolving　door　caught　his　eye。　He　pushed　against　it　idly；　and　found　himself　in　the　lobby　of　a　large　hotel。　Flanked　by　huge　chairs　and　davenports；　the　lobby　led　on　to　the　desk。　
　　Standing　just　inside　the　door；　he　had　a　moment's　idea　of　approaching　the　desk　and　entering　into　an　imaginary　conversation　with　the　reservation…clerk。　He　had　telegraphed　from…well；　Kansas　City　would　be　a　good　place。　Yes；　and　his　reservation　had　been　confirmed！　What　were　all　these　excuses　now？　But　the　insane　notion　faded。　With　a　thousand　rooms　empty　and　the　poor　clerk　gone…who　knew　where？…the　joke　was　not　very　funny。　
　　At　the　same　time　also　he　noticed　something　different。　Over　all　the　chairs　and　davenports　and　cigarette…stands　and　marble　floors　lay　a　distinct　layer　of　gray　dust。　
　　Perhaps；　not　being　a　housekeeper；　he　had　not　previously　noticed　dust；　or　perhaps　this　place　was　particularly　dusty。　No　matter　which！　From　now　on；　dust　would　be　a　part　of　his　life。　
　　Back　at　the　car；　he　slipped　it　into　gear；　crossed　Forty…second　Street；　and　continued　south。　On　the　steps　of　the　Library　he　saw　a　gray　cat　crouched；　paws　stretched　out　in　front；　as　if　in　caricature　of　the　stone　lions　above。　
　　At　the　Flatiron　Building　he　turned　into　Broadway；　and　followed　it　clear　…to　Wall　Street。　There　they　both　got　out；　and　Princess　showed　interest　in　some　kind　of　trail　which　ran　along　the　sidewalk。　Wall　Street！　He　enjoyed　walking　along　its　empty　length。　With　a　little　observation　he　diskovered　that　there　was　some　grass；　weeds　rather；　showing　green　here　and　there　in　the　cracks　of　the　gutter。　He　remembered　the　family　story　that　an　early　Dutch　settler；　one　of　their　ancestors；　had　owned　a　good　farm　in　this　vicinity。　His　father；　when　the　bills　were　high；　used　to　say；　〃Well；　I　wish　we　had　held　on　to　that　farm　on　Manhattan　Island；〃　Now　Ish　could　take　the　land　back　for　all　that　anybody　cared。　Yet　this　wilderness　of　concrete　and　steel　and　asphalt　was　the　last　place　where　anybody　would　really　care　to　live　now。　He　would　trade　that　Wall　Street　farm　for　any　ten　acres　in　Napa　Valley；　or　even　for　a　small　er　of　Central　Park。　
　　He　walked　back　to　his　car；　and　drove　south　on　Broadway　still；　the　little　distance　to　the　Battery。　There　he　gazed　across　the　expanse　of　the　lower　Bay　toward　the　ocean。　This　was　the　end　of　the　road。　
　　There　might　be　munities　left　in　Europe　or　South　America　or　on　some　of　the　islands；　but　he　could　not　go　to　find　out。　Right　here；　doubtless；　his　Dutch　ancestor　had　e　ashore　some　three　hundred　years　ago。　Now　h