Douglas ON THE MARCH. JUNCTION CITY, TOPEKA, KANSAS CITY, EARLY MAY, 1932—WITH A BRIEF DETOUR TO BELLEAU WOOD, FRANCE, 1918, AND SILVER PEAK, NEVADA, 1930— SIBERIA, 1918–1920. Later, what Douglas remembered best was not really his father at all, but the shape of his father, from behind: head bent and leaning into the wind—the entire empty state of Kansas opening off around him, from every side. Douglas’s own lungs, as he ran, would be filled nearly to bursting, his brain hot with thinking how much, how badly, he wanted to catch him this time. But each time, equally, he would not. Each time, when his father halted, he would find himself still several paces behind. He would pull up short and stand there while his father caught his breath. Sometimes his father would even have to drop to the ground; sort of arch his back up—his head thrown at an angle so that his two missing teeth showed, and the thick tendons in his neck stood out like hard wire. It was a wonder Douglas never could catch him, the way his father choked and sputtered like that at the end.
What do You think about Quartet For The End Of Time?
