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...
Verena's eyes flicked over the debris. "Eugene, I want a word with
you," she said in that hearty, coldly exalted voice, and Papa answered:
"Yes, sit down, Verena. I thought you would come."
That afternoon Dolly's friend Catherine Creek came over and packed my
clothes, and Papa drove me to the impressive, shadowy house on Talbo Lane.
As I was getting out of the car he tried to hug me, but I was scared of him
and wriggled out of his arms. I'm sorry now that we did not hug each other.
Because a few days later, on his way up to Mobile, his car skidded and fell
fifty feet into the Gulf. When I saw him again there were silver dollars
weighting down his eyes.
Except to remark that I was small for my age, a runt, no one had ever
paid any attention to me; but now people pointed me out, and said wasn't it
sad? that poor little Collin Fenwickl I tried to look pitiful because I knew
it pleased people: every man in town must have treated me to a Dixie Cup or
a box of Crackerjack, and at school I got good grades for the first time. So
it was a long while before I calmed down enough to notice Dolly Talbo.
And when I did I fell in love.
Imagine what it must have been for her when first I came to the house,
a loud and prying boy of eleven. She skittered at the sound of my footsteps
or, if there was no avoiding me, folded like the petals of shy-lady fern.
She was one of those people who can disguise themselves as an object in the
room, a shadow in the comer, whose presence is a delicate happening. She
wore the quietest shoes, plain virginal dresses with hems that touched her
ankles. Though older than her sister, she seemed someone who, like myself,
Verena had adopted. Pulled and guided by the gravity of Verena's planet, we
rotated separately in the outer spaces of the house.
In the attic, a slipshod museum spookily peopled with old display
dummies from Verena's drygoods store, there were many loose boards, and by
inching these I could look down into almost any room...

Трумэн Капоте (Truman Capote)
«Луговая арфа»

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