IT WAS THE SILENCE one noticed first; a silence more opaque than he’d ever heard before. The absence of sound was perfect. There was a sweep of trees wherever the eyes fell and a sweet swish of wind on the cheeks; but the leaves gave forth no sounds. Small surprises of birds flashed yellow, red or black among the leaves, appeared and vanished without breaking the stillness.
‘What are you listening for so hard?’ the driver asked. ‘The sea?’
He said nothing and the driver added, ‘When they first started they say it was one of the important questions: sea or forest. The sea wouldn’t have been fair. But if you listen hard you can hear it.’
He heard nothing. ‘Fair?’ he said.
‘There’s something in the sea that pulls; it would have been loading the dice. People have to decide for themselves; you have to leave them be till they do.’
He shrugged. ‘It’s not so long to wait,’ he said. ‘A man can sort of hold his breath for that long.’
The driver grew suddenly familiar, laughed hoarsely and poked a finger in his ribs. ‘Not exactly,’ he said. ‘That wouldn’t be fair, either, eh? No, not fair.’ He sniffed deep in his nose, as if he had difficulty breathing.