"Mak
e
i
t
fast,
"
I
tol
d
her.
Fo
r
th
e
nex
t
thre
e
hour
s
I
trie
d
t
o
wor
k
t
o
th
e
accompanimen
t
o
f
Mano
n
Lescau
t
o
n
m
y
cassette
player
.
I
n
Ac
t
Thre
e
o
f
tha
t
oper
a
Mano
n
an
d
De
s
Grieu
x
depar
t
fo
r
th
e
Ne
w
World
,
an
d
I
understood
a
t
las
t
wh
y
I
lov
e
oper
a
s
o
much
:
Everythin
g
tha
t
huma
n
being
s
ar
e
capabl
e
of
,
al
l
o
f
life'
s
jo
y
and tragedy
,
al
l
it
s
emotio
n
an
d
experience
,
ca
n
b
e
foun
d
there.
M
y
fathe
r
mus
t
hav
e
fel
t
this
,
too
.
I
ca
n
stil
l
se
e
hi
m
lyin
g
o
n
th
e
livin
g
roo
m
sof
a
o
n
a
Saturday
afternoo
n
wit
h
hi
s
eye
s
closed
,
listenin
g
t
o
th
e
Metropolita
n
Oper
a
broadcasts
.
Oh
,
ho
w
I
wis
h
h
e
had
live
d
an
d
w
e
ha
d
ha
d
a
chanc
e
t
o
tal
k
abou
t
musi
c
an
d
hi
s
grandchildre
n
an
d
al
l
th
e
othe
r
thing
s
that
mak
e
lif
e
fu
n
an
d
interestin
g
an
d
good
!
I
trie
d
t
o
envisio
n
a
paralle
l
univers
e
i
n
whic
h
h
e
ha
d
no
t
die
d
and
I
ha
d
becom
e
a
n
oper
a
star
,
an
d
I
imagine
d
singin
g
som
e
o
f
hi
s
favorit
e
aria
s
fo
r
hi
m
whil
e
Mother
brough
t
ou
t
a
bi
g
Sunda
y
dinne
r
fo
r
u
s
t
o
eat.
I suppos
e
I
mus
t
hav
e
doze
d
off
.
I
dreame
d
I
wa
s
i
n
a
n
unfamilia
r
plac
e
wher
e
th
e
cloudles
s
purple
sk
y
wa
s
ful
l
o
f
moon
s
an
d
sailin
g
birds
,
an
d
th
e
lan
d
a
panopl
y
o
f
tree
s
an
d
tin
y
gree
n
flowers
.
A
t
m
y
feet
stoo
d
a
pai
r
o
f
hug
e
beetle
s
wit
h
humanoi
d
eyes
;
a
smal
l
brow
n
snake-o
r
wa
s
i
t
a
larg
e
worm?-slithered
alon
g
behin
d
them
.
I
n
th
e
distanc
e
I
coul
d
se
e
field
s
o
f
re
d
an
d
yello
w
grains
,
coul
d
mak
e
ou
t
several
smal
l
elephant
s
an
d
othe
r
roamin
g
animals
.
A
fe
w
chimpanzee-lik
e
creature
s
chase
d
on
e
anothe
r
int
o
and
ou
t
o
f
a
nearb
y
forest
.
I
foun
d
mysel
f
crying
,
i
t
wa
s
s
o
lovely
.
Bu
t
th
e
mos
t
beautifu
l
featur
e
o
f
al
l
wa
s
the utte
r
silence
.
Ther
e
wasn'
t
a
hin
t
o
f
win
d
an
d
i
t
wa
s
s
o
quie
t
I
coul
d
hea
r
th
e
sof
t
ringin
g
o
f
farawa
y
bells.
The
y
seeme
d
fo
r
al
l
th
e
worl
d
t
o
b
e
tolling
,
"gene
,
gene
,
gene...."
I wok
e
wit
h
a
start
.
Th
e
cloc
k
wa
s
chimin
g
3:00
.
I
hurrie
d
dow
n
t
o
prot'
s
room
,
wher
e
I
foun
d
him
a
t
hi
s
des
k
writin
g
furiousl
y
i
n
hi
s
notebook
,
trying
,
presumably
,
t
o
complet
e
hi
s
repor
t
abou
t
Eart
h
and
it
s
inhabitant
s
befor
e
departin
g
fo
r
K-PAX
,
lettin
g
i
t
g
o
unti
l
th
e
las
t
minute
,
i
t
appeared
,
jus
t
a
s
a
human
bein
g
migh
t
do
.
Besid
e
hi
m
wer
e
hi
s
fruits
,
a
stal
k
o
r
tw
o
o
f
broccoli
,
a
ja
r
o
f
peanu
t
butter
,
th
e
essays
an
d
othe
r
souvenirs
,
al
l
neatl
y
packe
d
i
n
a
smal
l
cardboar
d
box
.
O
n
th
e
desk
,
nex
t
t
o
hi
s
notebooks,
wer
e
a
pocke
t
flashlight
,
a
han
d
mirror
,
an
d
th
e
lis
t
o
f
question
s
fro
m
Dr
.
Flynn
.
Al
l
si
x
o
f
th
e
lower-ward
cat
s
wer
e
lyin
g
aslee
p
o
n
th
e
bed.