242
DAVID JACKSON
the shadows. The light, as
if
hospitably, faintly showed the way
until he reached the gate. Having seen him there it clicked off
and the scene was black. Meredith, .at his desk, clutched
his
bowed head muttering to himself, "And tomorrow ... ?" Mary
Jane stopped listening and went on with her packing, intent on
taking the first train out for Venice. All the others-but for the
Grlifin-opened their bedroom doors, held their robes around
them and peered at their neighbors up and down the hallways.
On the road, pausing only to get back into his clothes, pat
his
pockets to see if passport or money had been lost in the melee,
Nicolas set off for an all night newstand where he left his travel–
ing sack and his blanket. His spirits were remarkably unlowered.
Soon he was under a chestnut tree in the English Gardens adjust–
ing himself to the hollows around the roots. And he was asleep
some time before the storm, descending from Alpine passes and
valleys around the Tegernsee, had reached the city's southern
suburbs. Shortly after, however, the thunder became Wagnerian,
the lightning so operatic whole measures of an aria could have
been sung from darkness to darkness.
The rain came down for about an hour, perhaps, without
waking Nicolas. Only when his legs were drenched through
blanket and pants did he sit up and stare around. He huddled
there horrified, a solitary audience to this theater in the English
Gardens. Trunks of trees appeared, vertical whitenesses, like a
speeded-up movie, and left their imprint stuttering in his eyes.
Curr-rr-rashl
Bam! A panorama of trees and bushes in .a long
pale fright. Intense blackness. It was as terrifying as it was plot–
less.
"Gee-zuzz!" Nicolas whispered. It was as nearly a prayer as
he had made in years. When he could move he was whimpering.
In a series of jerks he made a sack of the blanket to hold
his
belongings. Time and again he jarred back against the chestnut,
startled by a particularly vivid onslaught. Clenching his teeth
against their chatter, he made a dash for the nearest path and
