Waters recede; the floodplain dries, and new life springs and takes firm root. Bomb craters create verdant valleys. And even now, Natasha rallies, emerging tired but resolute: her muscles mend, her memories blur until they belong to her. don’t [348] 3/9 Her delighted local’s naturally to have her as its newest barmaid. She loves its darkness, never blighted by bland blond wood or lame and laméd halters and boob tubes for the staff. She wears her street clothes, and spends half the night in tangled anecdotes: back then we had no boats; “Of course, the Navy was a bunch of swimmers....” The ribbing and the ribald wits, the jukebox’s nostalgic hits, the dusty bulbs, the blackout dimmers, the counter meals, the drinkers’ hall of fame—the Landfall has it all. [349] 4/9 At first shy, and simply smiles she’s and pulls beer while her patrons ramble: the “The butterfly’s best: freestyle’s for wimps. always liked to gamble, I’ve but She remains elusive, pokies?” afraid that become intrusive, they’ll reveal what prefer was hidden. she’d But not heard of her bedridden they’ve adventures, nor her former fame, and everybody has a story from his or her long life more gory than hers—so ever since she came, shuffling out of her shocked shell she’s with battle-scars and tales to tell. [350] 5/9 staggered by the tale Joanna’s being told. The man in rags, she’s and Stan no better, saying they’ll be rich soon, better pack her bags, this some kind of panacea, bum’s so Ave Mary, Hail Maria, found the witness been seeking, they’ve they’ve and here he is, barefoot and reeking, searching the house for something edible.
Waters recede; the floodplain dries, and new life springs and takes firm root. Bomb craters create verdant valleys. And even now, Natasha rallies, emerging tired but resolute: her muscles mend, her memories blur until they don’t belong to her. [348] 3/9 Her local’s naturally delighted to have her as its newest barmaid. She loves its darkness, never blighted by bland blond wood or lame and laméd halters and boob tubes for the staff. She wears her street clothes, and spends half the night in tangled anecdotes: “Of course, back then we had no boats; the Navy was a bunch of swimmers....” The ribbing and the ribald wits, the jukebox’s nostalgic hits, the dusty bulbs, the blackout dimmers, the counter meals, the drinkers’ hall of fame—the Landfall has it all. [349] 4/9 At first she’s shy, and simply smiles and pulls beer while her patrons ramble: “The butterfly’s the best: freestyle’s for wimps. I’ve always liked to gamble, but pokies?” She remains elusive, afraid that they’ll become intrusive, reveal what she’d prefer was hidden. But they’ve not heard of her bedridden adventures, nor her former fame, and everybody has a story from his or her long life more gory than hers—so ever since she came, she’s shuffling out of her shocked shell with battle-scars and tales to tell. [350] 5/9 Joanna’s staggered by the tale she’s being told. The man in rags, and Stan no better, saying they’ll be rich soon, better pack her bags, this bum’s some kind of panacea, so Ave Mary, Hail Maria, they’ve found the witness they’ve been seeking, and here he is, barefoot and reeking, searching the house for something edible.
equinox.docx