Denne passasjen har jeg gruet meg for lenge. Jeg tviler på at det er mulig å løse problemet her, men håper at kanskje noen har en genial idé for å hjelpe meg på vei. Prinisipielt: Hva gjør man hvis en løsning viser å være totalt umulig???
Crys trailed along behind her at a little distance. «D’you think it’s, like, going to hail?» she seemed to be asking.
Lusa glanced up at at the bits of sky she could see between trees. «No way. There aren’t any rain clouds in the sky.»
«I’m talking about hail,» the child insisted.
Lusa moved deeper into the woods, scanning limbs and the undersides of leaves with a practiced eye. «It takes a big storm to bring hail. Why do you care, anyway? You don’t have a crop in the ground.»
«Hail, I said.»
There was enough frustration in her voice to bring Lusa out of her own thoughts and make her turn around. Crys had her feet planted and was glaring at her, aggravated.
«What about hail?»
«Hail!» the child said, frankly annoyed. «Where the devil’s at.»
Lusa slowly torned over this mystery. «Are you asking me about hell?»
The child shrugged. «Just forgit it.»
«Well, I’m sorry. I guess we kind of missed our moment there to talk about the afterlife.» Crys had tromped ahead, yanking sassafras leaves off the bushes as she passed.
«I’m just curious,» Lusa said, catching up to her. «How do you tell the difference between ‘hail’ that falls from the sky and ‘hail’ where the devil is?»
Crys stopped and looked up at her, stupefied. «Duh! They’re spailed different!»
«Oh,» Lusa said. «Duh.»
Crys studied her for a moment. «Aunt Lusa, did you know you talk really funny?»
«Yeah. It’s starting to sink in.»
(Håper kursivene blir med …)
Jeg vet det er mye om å be om at noen skal denne hodepinen med meg, men jeg krysser fingrene og håper …
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