“Nonsense. I can read you like a book. What’s so fascinating about those crates racing up and down? If you keep on looking left and right like that, you’ll end up wrecking your neck and we’ll have to put splints on either side of your head just to keep you looking straight ahead!” “I’m not a damn weathervane!” muttered Junior. “What are you burbling about?” “Nothing.” “Not true—you said something.” Junior prudently let it go. He was a dried-up little man with a chalky Pierrot’s face and a few stray whiskers on the end of his chin, and shoulders so narrow that his arms were hard to distinguish from his upper body. His blurred eyes did not reveal what was in his head, and seemed to skim the world without lingering anywhere in particular. He must have been at least thirty years old, his adolescent body and bird-size brain notwithstanding. He came down now from the platform where he had been stationed, exaggerating the careful steps he was taking to avoid falling off, hoping to mollify One-Eye. Once down on solid ground, he avoided Ach’s furious look by pretending to rebutton his shirt. Ach stuck his fists into the hollows of his hips. Exasperated, he still felt a stirring of indulgence. As much as he wanted to show his disapproval, Junior’s contrite attitude affected him deeply, and his intended sternness began to erode. “How many times,” he sighed, spreading his arms wide, “must I tell you that this place is cursed?” “But I told you I didn’t come here on purpose.” “I don’t have to take your word for that. Beware, Junior. Don’t let yourself be led astray. I can’t warn you often enough. To begin with, you think it’s just a little game, a distraction, but one evening you’ll find yourself following those cars into the city, and before you know it it’ll be too late. Do you really want to end your days in the city, Junior?” Junior shook his head vigorously, his eyebrows bulging out as much as his lips. Ach persisted, one arm outsretched disdainfully towards the city. “Do you really want to end your days over there? “I’ll never go into a city,” replied Junior, still shaking his head. “I’m not crazy.” “So come back over here then, you idiot.” Junior sprang erect, then started toward One-Eye. “Whatever you do,” Ach urged, wagging a finger at Junior, “don’t look back. As the Good Lord told Lot, ‘I’m going to blow Sodom to smithereens. Grab your tribe and get the hell out of here. When you hear me blowing up the joint, don’t turn round, that’s all.’ Lot gathered his tribe and told everyone explicitly
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