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peaks.
Mazatln was spread out below like a toy village. Even the basilica looked like an architect's scale
model from up' here, rather than a most imposing church - for the umpteenth time I wondered how the
Catholics, with their (usually) poverty-stricken congregations, could build such fine churches while their
Protestant opposite numbers had such a time raising the mortgages on more modest structures.
Look, Alec!' said Margrethe. 'Anibal and Roberto have their new aeroplano!' She pointed.
Sure enough, there were now two aeroplanos at the Coast Guard mooring. One was the grotesque giant
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dragonfly that had rescued us; the new one was quite different. At first I thought it had sunk at its
moorings; the floats on which the older craft landed on the water were missing from this structure.
Then I realized that this new craft was literally a flying boat. The body of the aeroplano itself was a float,
or a boat - a watertight structure. The propelling engines of this craft were mounted above the wings.
I was not sure that I trusted these radical changes. The homely certainties of the craft we had ridden in
were more to my taste.
'Alec, let's go call on them next Tuesday.'
'All right.'
'Do you suppose that Anibal would possibly offer us a ride in his new aeroplano?'
'Not if the Commandant knows about it.' I did not say that the newfangled rig did not look safe to me;
Margrethe was always fearless. 'But we'll call on them and ask to see it. Lieutenant Anibal will like that.
Roberto, too. Let's eat.'
'Piggy piggy,' she answered,' and spread out a servilleta, started covering it with food from a basket I
had carried. Tuesdays gave Margrethe an opportunity to vary Amanda's excellent Mexican cooking with
her own Danish and international cooking. Today she had elected to make Danish open-face sandwiches
so much enjoyed by all Danes - and by anyone else who has ever had a chance to enjoy them. Amanda
allowed Margrethe to do what she liked in the kitchen, and Seora Valera did not interfere - she never
came into the kitchen, under some armed truce arrived at before we joined the staff. Amanda was a
woman of firm character.
Today's sandwiches featured heavily the tender, tasty shrimp for which Mazatln is famous, but the
shrimp were just a starter. I remember ham, turkey, crumbled crisp bacon, mayonnaise, three sorts - of
cheese, several sorts of pickle, little peppers, unidentified fish, thin slices of beef, fresh tomato, tomato
paste, three sorts of lettuce, what I think was deep-fried eggplant. But thank goodness it is not necessary
to understand food in order to enjoy it Margrethe placed it in front of me; I happily chomped away,
whether I knew what I was eating or not.
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An hour later I was belching and pretending not to. 'Margrethe, have I told you today that I love you?'
'Yes, but not lately.'
'I do. You are not only beautiful, fair to see and of gainly proportions, you are also a fine cook.'
'Thank you, sir. I
'Do you wish to be admired for your intellectual excellence as well?'
'Not necessarily. No.'
'As you wish. If you change your mind, let me know. Quit fiddling with the remnants; I'll tidy up later. Lie
down here beside me and explain to me why you continue to live with me. It can't be for my cooking. Is
it because I am the best dishwasher on the west coast of Mexico?'
'Yes.' She went right on tidying things, did not stop until our picnic site was perfectly back in order, with
all that was left back in the basket, ready to be returned to Amanda.
Then she lay down beside me, slid her arm under my neck - then raised her head. 'What's that?'
'What's -' Then I heard it. A distant rumble increasing in volume, like a freight train coming 'round the
bend. But the nearest railway, the line north to Chihuahua and south to Guadalajara, was distant, beyond
the peninsula of Mazatln.
The rumble grew louder; the ground started to sway. Margrethe sat up. 'Alec, I'm frightened.'
'Don't be afraid, dear; I'm here.' I reached up and pulled her down to me, held her tight while the solid
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
ground bounced up and down under us and the roaring rumble increased to unbelievable volume.
If you've ever been in an earthquake, even a small one, you know what we were feeling better than my
words can say. If you have never been in one, you won't believe me and the more accurately I describe
it, the more certain you are not to believe me.
The worst part about a quake is that there is nothing solid to cling to anywhere... but the most startling
thing is the noise, the infernal racket of every sort - the crash of rock grinding together under you, the
ripping, rending sounds of buildings being torn apart, the screams of the frightened, the cries of the hurt
and the lost, the howling and wailing of animals caught by disaster beyond their comprehension.
And none of it will stop.
This, went on for an endless time - then the main earthquake hit us and the city fell down.
I could hear it. The noise that could not increase suddenly doubled. I managed to get up on one elbow
and look. The dome of the basilica broke like a soap bubble. 'Oh, Marga, look! No, don't - this is
terrible.'
She half sat up, said nothing and her face was blank. I kept my arm around her and looked down the
peninsula past Cerro Vigla and at the lighthouse.
It was leaning.
While I watched it broke about halfway up, then slowly and with dignity collapsed to the ground.
Past the city I caught sight of the moored aeroplanos of the Coast Guard. They were dancing around in
a frenzy; the new one dipped one wing; the water caught it - then I lost sight of it as a cloud rose up from
the city, a cloud of dust from thousands and thousands of tons of shattered masonry.
I looked for the restaurant, and found it: EL RESTAURANTE PANCHO VILLA. Then while I [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl ocenkijessi.opx.pl
peaks.
Mazatln was spread out below like a toy village. Even the basilica looked like an architect's scale
model from up' here, rather than a most imposing church - for the umpteenth time I wondered how the
Catholics, with their (usually) poverty-stricken congregations, could build such fine churches while their
Protestant opposite numbers had such a time raising the mortgages on more modest structures.
Look, Alec!' said Margrethe. 'Anibal and Roberto have their new aeroplano!' She pointed.
Sure enough, there were now two aeroplanos at the Coast Guard mooring. One was the grotesque giant
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
dragonfly that had rescued us; the new one was quite different. At first I thought it had sunk at its
moorings; the floats on which the older craft landed on the water were missing from this structure.
Then I realized that this new craft was literally a flying boat. The body of the aeroplano itself was a float,
or a boat - a watertight structure. The propelling engines of this craft were mounted above the wings.
I was not sure that I trusted these radical changes. The homely certainties of the craft we had ridden in
were more to my taste.
'Alec, let's go call on them next Tuesday.'
'All right.'
'Do you suppose that Anibal would possibly offer us a ride in his new aeroplano?'
'Not if the Commandant knows about it.' I did not say that the newfangled rig did not look safe to me;
Margrethe was always fearless. 'But we'll call on them and ask to see it. Lieutenant Anibal will like that.
Roberto, too. Let's eat.'
'Piggy piggy,' she answered,' and spread out a servilleta, started covering it with food from a basket I
had carried. Tuesdays gave Margrethe an opportunity to vary Amanda's excellent Mexican cooking with
her own Danish and international cooking. Today she had elected to make Danish open-face sandwiches
so much enjoyed by all Danes - and by anyone else who has ever had a chance to enjoy them. Amanda
allowed Margrethe to do what she liked in the kitchen, and Seora Valera did not interfere - she never
came into the kitchen, under some armed truce arrived at before we joined the staff. Amanda was a
woman of firm character.
Today's sandwiches featured heavily the tender, tasty shrimp for which Mazatln is famous, but the
shrimp were just a starter. I remember ham, turkey, crumbled crisp bacon, mayonnaise, three sorts - of
cheese, several sorts of pickle, little peppers, unidentified fish, thin slices of beef, fresh tomato, tomato
paste, three sorts of lettuce, what I think was deep-fried eggplant. But thank goodness it is not necessary
to understand food in order to enjoy it Margrethe placed it in front of me; I happily chomped away,
whether I knew what I was eating or not.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
An hour later I was belching and pretending not to. 'Margrethe, have I told you today that I love you?'
'Yes, but not lately.'
'I do. You are not only beautiful, fair to see and of gainly proportions, you are also a fine cook.'
'Thank you, sir. I
'Do you wish to be admired for your intellectual excellence as well?'
'Not necessarily. No.'
'As you wish. If you change your mind, let me know. Quit fiddling with the remnants; I'll tidy up later. Lie
down here beside me and explain to me why you continue to live with me. It can't be for my cooking. Is
it because I am the best dishwasher on the west coast of Mexico?'
'Yes.' She went right on tidying things, did not stop until our picnic site was perfectly back in order, with
all that was left back in the basket, ready to be returned to Amanda.
Then she lay down beside me, slid her arm under my neck - then raised her head. 'What's that?'
'What's -' Then I heard it. A distant rumble increasing in volume, like a freight train coming 'round the
bend. But the nearest railway, the line north to Chihuahua and south to Guadalajara, was distant, beyond
the peninsula of Mazatln.
The rumble grew louder; the ground started to sway. Margrethe sat up. 'Alec, I'm frightened.'
'Don't be afraid, dear; I'm here.' I reached up and pulled her down to me, held her tight while the solid
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
ground bounced up and down under us and the roaring rumble increased to unbelievable volume.
If you've ever been in an earthquake, even a small one, you know what we were feeling better than my
words can say. If you have never been in one, you won't believe me and the more accurately I describe
it, the more certain you are not to believe me.
The worst part about a quake is that there is nothing solid to cling to anywhere... but the most startling
thing is the noise, the infernal racket of every sort - the crash of rock grinding together under you, the
ripping, rending sounds of buildings being torn apart, the screams of the frightened, the cries of the hurt
and the lost, the howling and wailing of animals caught by disaster beyond their comprehension.
And none of it will stop.
This, went on for an endless time - then the main earthquake hit us and the city fell down.
I could hear it. The noise that could not increase suddenly doubled. I managed to get up on one elbow
and look. The dome of the basilica broke like a soap bubble. 'Oh, Marga, look! No, don't - this is
terrible.'
She half sat up, said nothing and her face was blank. I kept my arm around her and looked down the
peninsula past Cerro Vigla and at the lighthouse.
It was leaning.
While I watched it broke about halfway up, then slowly and with dignity collapsed to the ground.
Past the city I caught sight of the moored aeroplanos of the Coast Guard. They were dancing around in
a frenzy; the new one dipped one wing; the water caught it - then I lost sight of it as a cloud rose up from
the city, a cloud of dust from thousands and thousands of tons of shattered masonry.
I looked for the restaurant, and found it: EL RESTAURANTE PANCHO VILLA. Then while I [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]