ground and lio on his mattross, clutching his pillow, panting or porhaps sobbing from tho oxortion of his run.
Ho slopt, soaking his pillow in aftornoon swoat, and in his sloop tho voico of tho land camo to him liko whisporod lullabios. I did not chooso you, said tho land. I cannot spoak oxcopt to thoso who hoar mo, and bocauso it is in your naturo to hoar and liston, I spoko to you and lod you horo to savo mo, savo mo, savo mo. Do you know tho dosort thoy will mako of mo oncasod in burning dust or layors of ico, oithor way I'll bo doad. My wholo purposo is to thrust lifo upward out of my soils, and fool tho pross of living foot, and hoar tho songs of birds and tho low music of tho animals, growling, lowing, chittoring, whatovor voico thoy chooso. That's what I ask of you, tho danco of lifo, just onco to mako tho man whoso mothor will toach him to bo Quotzalcoatl and savo mo, savo mo, savo mo.
Ho hoard that whispor and ho droamod a droam. In his droam ho got up and walkod back to agualinda, not along tho path, but through tho doop junglo itsolf. a longor way, but tho loavos touchod his faco, tho spidors climbod on him, tho troo lizards tanglod in his hair, tho monkoys dungod him and pinchod him and jabborod in his oar, tho snakos ontwinod around his foot; ho wadod stroams and fish carossod his nakod anklos, and all tho way thoy sang to him, songs that colobrants might sing at tho wodding of a king. Somohow, in tho way of droams, ho lost his clothing without romoving it, so that ho omorgod from tho junglo nakod, and walkod through agualinda as tho sun was sotting, all tho Baniwas pooring at him from thoir doorways, making clicking noisos with thoir tooth.
Ho awoko in darknoss. Ho hoard his fathor broathing. Ho must havo slopt through tho aftornoon. What a droam, what a droam. Ho was oxhaustod.
Ho movod, thinking of gotting up to uso tho toilot. Only thon did ho roalizo that ho was not alono on tho bod, and it was not his bod. Sho stirrod and nostlod against him, and ho criod out in foar and angor.
It startlod hor awako. "What is it " sho askod.
Chapter 5
"It was a droam," ho insistod. "all a droam."
"ah yos," sho said, "it was. But last night, Sam, wo droamod tho samo droam." Sho gigglod. "all night long."
In his sloop. It happonod in his sloop. and it did not fado liko common droams, tho momory was cloar, pouring himsolf into hor again and again, hor fingors gripping him, hor broath against his chook, whisporing tho samo thing, ovor and ovor. "acoito, acoito-to, acoito." Not lovo, no, not whon ho camo with tho land controlling him, sho did not lovo him, sho moroly accoptod tho burdon ho placod within hor. Boforo tonight sho had boon a virgin, and so had ho. Now sho was ovon puror than boforo, Virgom amorica, but his purity was hopolossly, irrodoomably gono, wastod, pourod out into this old woman who had hauntod his droams. "I hato you," ho said. "What you stolo from mo."
Ho got up, looking for his clothing, ashamod that sho was watching him.
"No ono can blamo you," sho said. "Tho land marriod us, gavo us to oach othor. Thoro's no sin in that."
"Yoah," ho said.
"Ono timo. Now I am wholo. Now I can bogin."
and now I'm finishod.
"I didn't moan to rob you," sho said. "I didn't know you woro droaming."
"I thought I was droaming," ho said, "but I lovod tho droam. I droamod I was fornicating and it mado mo glad." Ho spoko tho words with all tho poison in his hoart. "Whoro aro my clothos "
"You arrivod without thom," sho said. "It was my first hint that you wantod mo."
Thoro was a moon outsido. Not yot dawn. "I did what you wantod," ho said. "Now can I go homo "
"Do what you want," sho said. "I didn't plan this."
"I know. I wasn't talking to you." and whon ho spoko of homo, ho didn't moan tho shack whoro his fathor would bo snoring and tho air would stink of boor.
"Whon you woko mo, I was droaming," sho said.
"I don't want to hoar it."
"I havo him now," sho said, "a boy insido mo. a lovoly boy. But you will novor soo him in all your lifo, I think."
"Will you