The Halloween Tree

Glava 19

Along the dark night street, around a corner, came a woman bearing over her shoulders twin scoops of mounded charcoals, burning. From these heaps of pink burning coals firefly sparks scattered and blew in the wind. Where she passed on bare feet she left a trail of little sparks which died. Without a word, shuffling, she went around another corner into an alley, gone.	Mračnom nočnom ulicom, iza ugla, došla je žena, a na plećima joj je bila dvostruka košarica shrpanoga drvenog ugljena, rasplamsalog. S tih hrpa ružičastog zažarenog ugljevlja vjetar je raznosio i odnosio krijesnice iskara. Gdje god bi bosa prošla, ostavljala bi trag sitnih iskara u zamiranju. Bez riječi, vukući noge, obišla je još jedan ugao, zašla u još jednu uličicu, nestala.
After her came a man carrying, on his head, lightly, lightly, a small coffin. It was a box made of plain white wood nailed shut. On the sides and top of the box were pinned cheap silver rosettes, handmade silk and paper flowers.	Iza nje je došao muškarac, noseći na glavi, lagano, lagano, mali lijes. Bio je to sanduk od neobojana bijelog drveta i zakovan čavlima. Sa strane su mu i na vrhu bile prikačene jeftine srebrene rozete, u kućnoj radinosti napravljeno svileno i papirno cvijeće.
Inside the box was—	A u sanduku je bio...
The boys stared as the funeral parade of two went by. Two, thought Tom. The man and the box, yes, and the thing inside the box.	Kad je mimo njih prošla ta dvočlana pogrebna povorka, dječaci su se samo zapiljili. Dvoje, pomislio je Tom. Muškarac i sanduk, da, i ono što je u tom sanduku.
The man, his face solemn, balancing the coffin on the top of his head, walked tall into the nearby church.	Muškarac, lica svečano ozbiljna, i balansirajući lijes na tjemenu, uspravno je unišao u obližnju crkvu.
“Was—” stuttered Tom. “Was that Pip again, inside that box?”	"Je li..." zamucao je Tom. "Je li to opet Pip, ovaj put u sanduku?"
“What do you think, lad?” asked Moundshroud.	"A što ti misliš, mladiću?" upitao je Grobolijes.
“I don’t know,” cried Tom. “I only know I had enough. The night’s been too long. I seen too much. I know everything, gosh, everything!”	"Ne znam", uskliknuo je Tom. "Znam samo da mi je dosta. Ova noć već predugo traje. Vidio sam i previše toga. I sad znam sve, bogovi, sve!"
“Yeah!” said everyone, clustering close, shivering.	"Jest!" rekli su svi odreda, pa se skutrili jedan uz drugoga, obuzeti drhtavicom.
“And we’ve got to get home, don’t we? What about Pipkin, where is he? Is he alive or dead? Can we save him? Is he lost? Are we too late? What do we do?”	"A morali bismo se i vratiti kući, nije li tako? I što je s Pipkinom, gdje je on? Je li živ ili mrtav? Možemo li ga spasiti? Je li s njim gotovo? Jesmo li zakasnili? Što da činimo?"
“What!” cried everyone, and the same questions flew and burst from their mouths and welled in their eyes. They all took hold of Moundshroud as if to press the answer from him, yank it out his elbows.	"Da, što!" uskliknuli su svi odreda, i isto je pitanje prasnulo i izletjelo iz njihovih usta i izlilo se iz njihovih očiju, kao iz dubokoga zdenca. Svi su dohvatili Grobolijesa, kao da žele iz njega istisnuti odgovor, istjerati ga laktovima.
“What do we do?”	"Što da radimo?"
“To save Pipkin? One last thing. Look up in this tree!”	"Da spasite Pipkina? Ovo je zadnje. Pogledajte ono drvo!"
Dangling from the tree were a dozen Halloween piñatas: devils, ghosts, skulls, witches that swayed in the wind.	S drveta se ljuljuškalo desetak piđata (Ovješeni oslikani zemljani lonci, puni slatkiša i darova, koje djeca s povezima na očima pokušavaju razbiti štapovima. Tradicionalna meksička božična igra. op.prev.), kakve se vješaju na Noć vještica; bili su to vragovi, utvare, vještice, i sve se to zibalo na vjetru.
“Break your piñata, boys!”	"Razbijte svoje piđate, dječaci!"
Sticks were thrust in their hands.	U šake im je turio štapove.
“Strike!”	"Udri!"
Yelling, they struck. The piñatas exploded.	Zakričali su i lupili. Piđate su eksplodirale.
And from the Skeleton piñata a thousand small skeleton leaves fell in a shower. They swarmed on Tom. The wind blew skeletons, leaves, and Tom away.	Iz piđate u obliku kostura, potekao je pravi pljusak kostura lišća. Oni su se kao roj oborili na Toma. Vjetar je otpuhao kosture, lišće, i Toma.
And from the Mummy piñata fell hundreds of frail Egyptian mummies which rushed away into the sky, Ralph with them.	A iz piđate mumije ispale su stotine krhkih egipatskih mumija koje su pojurile u nebo, odnoseći sa sobom i Ralpha.
And so each boy struck, and cracked and let down small vinegar-gnat dancing images of himself so that devils, witches, ghosts shrieked and seized and all the boys and leaves went tumbling through the sky, with Moundshroud laughing after.	I tako su svi dječaci lupili, i razbili, i ispustili male usplesale slike samoga sebe, ne veće od vinske mušice, tako da su vragovi, vještice, duhovi zakričali i pograbili sve dječake i svo lišće i krenuli prekobicavajući se preko neba, ispraćeni Grobolijesovim smijehom.
They ricocheted in the final alleys of the town. They banged and skipped like stones across the lake waters—	I rikošetirali u zadnjim uličicama gradića. I lučili se i poskakivali poput kamenih pločica preko jezerskih voda...
—to land rolling in a jumble of knees and elbows on a yet farther hill. They sat up.	... i prizemljili, prevrćući se, u rusvaju koljena i lakata na još daljem brežuljku. Zatim su sjeli.
They found themselves in the middle of an abandoned graveyard with no people, no lights. Only stones like immense wedding cakes, frosted with old moonlight.	Našli su se sred napuštena groblja na kojem nije bilo ni ljudi ni svjetlila. Bilo je samo kamenje, nalik na goleme vjenčane torte, posute šećerom stare mjesečine.
And as they watched, Moundshroud, landing light on his feet in a swift quiet motion, bent. He reached for an iron rung in the earth. He pulled. With a shriek of hinges, a trapdoor in the earth gaped wide.	Dok su tako čekali, stigao je i Grobolijes i lagano se dočekao na noge, brzim i nečujnim pokretom, povijen. Potražio je željeznu prečku na zemlji. I povukao. Uz škripu šarki, zinuo je kapak u zemlji.
The boys came to stand at the edge of the big hole. “Cat—” stuttered Tom. “Catacombs?”	Dječaci su prišli i zastali na rubu velike rupe. "Kat..." promucao je Tom. "Katakombe?"
“Catacombs.” Moundshroud pointed.	"Katakombe." Grobolijes je pokazao prstom.
Stairs led down into a dry dust earth. The boys swallowed hard.	U suhu su, prašnjavu zemlju vodile stube. Dječaci su s mukom progutali slinu.
“Is Pip down there?”	"Dolje je Pip?"

“Go bring him up, boys.”	"Idite i dovedite ga, dječaci."
“Is he alone down there?”	"Je li on dolje sam?"
“No. Things are with him. Things.”	"Ne. S njim je i još nešto. Još nešto."
“Who goes first?”	"Tko će prvi?"
“Not me!” Silence.	"Ja ne!" Tišina.
“Me” said Tom, at last.	"Ja ću", rekao je napokon Tom.
He put his foot on the first step down. He sank into the earth. He took another step. Then, suddenly, he was gone.	Stavio je nogu na prvu stepenicu. I utonuo u zemlju. Napravio je još jedan korak. I tada, najednom, nestao.
The others followed.	Drugi su pošli za njim.
They went down the steps in single file and with each step down the dark got darker and with each step down the silence grew more silent and with each step down the night became deep as a well and very black indeed and with each step down the shadows waited and seemed to lean from walls and with each step down strange things seemed to smile at them from the long cave which waited below. Bats seemed to be hanging clustered just over their heads, squeaking so high you could not hear them. Only dogs might hear, have hysterics, jump out of their skins, and run off. With each step down the town got farther away and the earth and all the nice people of the earth. Even the graveyard above seemed far away. They felt lonely. They felt so alone they wanted to cry.	Pošli su stepenicama jedan po jedan, i sa svakom je stepenicom tama bivala sve tamnija, i sa svakom je stepenicom tišina bivala sve tiša, i sa svakom je stepenicom noć postajala duboka kao zdenac i zaista jako crna, i sa svakom su stepenicom sjene vrebale na njih i kao da su se prigibale iz zidova, i sa svakom stepenicom kao da im se smiješilo nešto čudno iz dugačke špilje što je na njih dolje čekala. Šišmiši kao da su visjeli u grozdovima tik nad njihovim glavama, i pištali tako visoko da ih se nije moglo čuti. Njih su mogli čuti samo psi, i pohisterizirati, iskočiti iz kože, i pobjeći. Sa svakom je stepenicom grad bivao sve dalje, baš kao i zemlja i svi dobri ljudi na njoj. Čak i groblje nad njima kao da je postalo jako daleko. Osjećali su se samotno. Osjećali su se tako samotno da im je došlo da zaplaču.
For each step down was a billion miles lost from life and warm beds and good candlelight and mothers’ voices and fathers’ pipe-smoke and clearing his voice in the night which made you feel good knowing he was there somewhere in the dark, alive and turning in his sleep and able to hit anything with his fists if it had to be hit.	Jer je svaka stepenica dolje značila milijardu milja izgubljenih od života i toplih postelja i krasnog svjetla svijeća i majčina glasa i mirisa očeve lule i pročišćavanja grla u noći, od čega ti je bilo tako fino jer si znao da je tu negdje u tami, živ, i da se okreće u snu i da šakama može lupiti u sve u što treba lupiti.
Each step down, and at last, at the bottom of the stairs, they peered into the long cave, the long hall.	Svaka stepenica dolje, dok se na koncu, na dnu stubišta, nisu zagledali u dugačku špilju, dugačku dvoranu.
And all the people were there and very quiet.	I tu su bili svi ljudi i svi su bili jako tihi.
They had been quiet for a long time.	I tihi su bili već dugo.
Some of them had been quiet for thirty years.	Neki su od njih bili tihi trideset godina.
Some had been silent for forty years.	Neki su od njih bili tihi četrdeset godina.
Some had been completely mum for seventy years.	Neki su bili nijemi kao kamen već sedamdeset godina.
“There they are,” said Tom.	"Evo ih, tu su", rekao je Tom.
“The mummies?” someone whispered.	"Mumije?" prošaptao je netko.
“The mummies.”	"Mumije."
A long line of them, standing against the walls. Fifty mummies standing against the right wall. Fifty mummies standing against the left wall. And four mummies waiting at the far end in the dark. One hundred and four dry-as-dust mummies more alone than they, more lonely than they might ever feel in life, abandoned here, left below, far from dog barks and fireflies and the sweet singing of men and guitars in the night.	Bio je čitav dugački red njih, i stajale su uza zidove. Pedeset je mumija stajalo uz desni zid. Pedeset je mumija stajalo uz lijevi zid. A četiri su mumije čekale na drugome kraju, u tami. Stotinu i četiri mumije, suhe kao prah, i samotnije od njih, samotnije no što će se oni možda osjetiti ikad u životu, napuštene ovdje, ostavljene u dubinama, daleko od psećega laveža i krijesnica i milopojnoga muškoga pjeva i gitara u noći.
“Oh, boy,” said Tom. “All those poor people. I heard of them.”	"O, ljudi", rekao je Tom. "Baš su jadni. Već sam čuo za njih."
“What?”	"Što? Kako?"
“Their folks couldn’t pay the rent on their graves, so the gravedigger dug up these people and put them down here. The earth is so dry it makes mummies out of them. And look, see how they’re dressed.”	"Njihovi nisu mogli plaćati grobljanske pristojbe, pa ih je grobar otkopao i spustio dolje. A zemlja je tako suha da ih je mumificirala. A pogledajte, vidite kako su odjevene."
The boys looked and saw that some of the ancient people were dressed like farmers and some like peasant maids and some like businessmen in old dark suits, and one even like a bullfighter in his dusty suit of lights. But inside their suits they were all thin bones and skin and spiderweb and dust that shook down through their ribs if you sneezed and trembled them.	Dječaci su pogledali i opaziti da su neki od tih drevnih ljudi odjeveni kao seljaci, a neki opet poput selskih cura, a neki opet poput poslovnih ljudi u starim tamnim odijelima, a jedan čak i kao toreador u svjetlucavom prašnjavom odijelu. Ali ispod odijela bile su samo tanke kosti i koža i paučina i prah koji bi potekli kroz njihova rebra ako bi ih protresli ili samo kihnuli.
“What’s that?”	"Što je to?"
“What, what?”	"Što, što?"
“Ssssst!”	"Pssst!"
Everyone listened.	Svi su oslušnuli.
They peered into the long vault.	I zagledali se kroz dugi nadsvođeni prostor.
All the mummies looked back with empty eyes. All the mummies waited with empty hands.	Sve su im mumije uzvratile pogled svojim praznim očima. Sve su mumije čekale praznih ruku.

Someone was weeping at the far end of the long dark hall.	A na drugom je kraju duge mračne dvorane netko zaplakao.
“Ahhh—” came the sound.	"Ahhhh..." dopro je do njih zvuk.
“Oh—” came the crying.	"Oh..." dopro je do njih plač.
“eeee—” and the small voice wept.	"Eeee..." zajecao je sitan glasić.
“That’s—why, that’s Pip. Only heard him cry once, but that’s him. Pipkin. And he’s trapped there in the catacomb.”	"To je... mislim, pa to je Pip. Samo je jednom zaplakao, ali to je on. Pipkin. I zarobljen je tu, u katakombi."
The boys stared.	Dječaci su se zagledali.
And they saw, a hundred feet away, crouched down in a corner, trapped at the most distant part of the catacomb, a small figure that—moved. The shoulders twitched. The head was bent and covered with trembling hands. And behind the hands, the mouth wailed and was afraid.	I ugledali, tridesetak metara daleko, skutrena u kutu, zarobljena u najdaljem kraju katakombe, sitan lik koji se — micao. Ramena su mu se trzala. Glava mu je bila pognuta i pokrivena drhtavim rukama. A iza ruku, usta su jaukala i bojala se.
“Pipkin—?” The crying stopped.	"Pipkin..?" Plač je zastao.
“Is that you?” whispered Tom.	"Jesi to ti?" prošaptao je Tom.
A long pause, a trembled insuck of breath and then: “…yes.”	Duga stanka, potom treperavi srk zraka, i potom: "... da."
“Pip, for cry-yi, what you doing there?”	"Pip, u smokvu, što radiš tu?"
“I don’t know!”	"Nemam pojma!"
“Come out?”	"A izaći?"
“I—I can’t. I’m afraid!”	"Ne... ne mogu. Bojim se!"
“But, Pip, if you stay there—” Tom paused.	"Ali, Pip, ako ostaneš ovdje..." Tom je zastao.
Pip, he thought, if you stay, you stay forever. You stay with all the silence and the lonely ones. You stand in the long line and tourists come and look at you and buy tickets to look at you some more. You—	Pip, pomislio je, ako ostaneš, ostat ćeš dovijeka. Ostat ćeš sa svim tim mukom i svim tim samotnjacima. Ostat ćeš u dugom nizu, i turisti će te dolaziti pogledati, i kupovati karte da te mogu još gledati. Ti...
“Pip!” said Ralph behind his mask. “You got to come out.”	"Pip!" rekao je Ralph iza maske. "Ti moraš van."
“I can’t.” Pip sobbed. “They won’t let me.”	"Ne mogu." Pip je zajecao. "Oni me ne puste."
“They?”	"Oni?"
But they knew he meant the long line of mummies. In order to get out he would have to run the gauntlet between the nightmares, the mysteries, the dreadful ones, the dires and the haunts.	Ali su znali da misli na dugi niz mumija. Da bi izišao, morao je protrčati kroz šibe tih užasa, tih misterija, tih jeza, te groze i tih opsjedača.
“They can’t stop you, Pip.”	"Pip, oni te ne mogu zaustaviti."
Pip said: “Oh, yes, they can.”	A Pip je odgovorio: "O, itekako mogu."
“… can …” said echoes deep in the catacomb.	"... mogu..." odgovorili su odjeci iz dubina katakombe.
“I’m afraid to come out.”	"Bojim se izaći."
“And we’re—” said Ralph.	"A mi se..." rekao je Ralph.
Afraid to go in, thought everyone.	Bojimo ući, pomislili su svi odreda.
“Maybe if we chose one brave one—” said Tom, and stopped.	"Možda, ako bismo među sobom izabrali junaka..." rekao je Tom i zastao.
For Pipkin was crying again, and the mummies waiting and the night so dark in the long tomb hall that you would sink right through the floor if you stepped on it, and never move again. The floor would seize your ankles with bony marble and hold you until the freezing cold froze you into a dry-dust statue forever.	Jer se Pipkin ponovno rasplakao, a mumije su čekale u noći, tamnoj u dugoj grobljanskoj dvorani, da bi, kad bi stupio u nju, odmah potonuo kroz pod, i nikad se više ne bi pomakao. A pod bi te uhvatio za gležnjeve svojim košćatim mramorom i držao te sve dok te ledena studen ne bi zauvijek sledila u kip od suhoga praha.
“Maybe if we went in in a mob, all of us—” said Ralph.	"Možda, ako bismo navalili čoporativno, svi koliko nas ima..." rekao je Ralph.
And they tried to move.	Pokušali su se pomaknuti.

Like a big spider with many legs, the boys tried to cram through the door. Two steps forward, one step back. One step forward, two steps back.	Poput kakvog velikog pauka s mnogo nogu, dječaci su se pokušali probiti kroz vrata. Dva koraka naprijed, jedan korak natrag. Jedan korak naprijed, dva koraka natrag.
“Ahhhhh!” wept Pipkin.	"Ahhhhhhhh!" zaplakao je Pipkin.
At which sound they all fell upon themselves, gibbering, and scrambled yelling their dires and frights back to the door. They heard an avalanche of heartbeats bang pains in their chests.	Na koji su se zvuk svi srušili jedan preko drugoga, brbljetajući i vrišteći u metežu odvukli svoju grozu i strah natrag prema vratima. U prsima su čuli čitavu lavinu bolnih udara bila.
“Oh, my gosh, what we gonna do, him afraid to come, us afraid to go, what, what?” wailed Tom.	"O, bogovi, što da radimo, kad se on boji izaći, a mi se bojimo ući, što, što?" zajadao se Tom.
Behind them, leaning against the wall, was Moundshroud, forgotten. A little candleflame of smile flickered and went out among his teeth.	Iza njih, naslonjen na zid, stajao je Grobolijes, posve zaboravljen. Kroz zube mu je zapalucao i probio se plamićak smiješka.
“Here, boys. Save him with this.”	"Evo, dječaci. Spasite ga ovim."
Moundshroud reached into his dark cloak and brought forth a familiar white-sugar-candy skull across the brow of which was written:	Grobolijes je posegnuo pod tamnu pelerinu pa izvadio toli poznatu lubanju od bijeloga sladora, kojoj je preko čela pisalo:
PIPKIN!	PIPKIN!
“Save Pipkin, lads. Strike a bargain.”	"Spasite Pipkina, mladići. Dajte se nagodite."
“With who?”	"S kim?"
“With me and others unnamed. Here. Break this skull in eight delicious bits, boys, hand them ’round. P for you, Tom, and I for you, Ralph, and half of the other P for you, Hank, the other half for you, J.J., and some of the K for you, boy, and some for you, and here’s the I and the final N. Touch the sweet bits, lads. Listen. Here’s the dark deal. Do you truly want Pipkin to live?”	"Sa mnom i ostalim još neimenovanima. Evo. Razlomite tu lubanju u osam slasnih komadića, dječaci, i podijelite ih. P za tebe, Tome, a I za tebe, Ralph, i polovica drugoga P za tebe, Hank, a druga polovica za tebe, J.J., i komad K za tebe, dječače, a malo za tebe, a evo i I i zadnji N. Dotaknite te slatke komadiće, mladići. I poslušajte. Ovo je mračna pogodba. Želite li zaista da Pipkin živi?"
Such a fury of protest burst forth at this, Moundshroud was fair driven back by it. The boys barked like dogs against his so much as questioning their need for Pips survival.	Na ovo je uslijedio takav plotun prosvjeda, da je upravo odbacio Grobolijesa. Dječaci su se, već na samo dovođenje u dvojbu njihove želje da Pip poživi, uzlajali kao psi.
“There, there,” he curried them, “I see you mean it. Well then, will you each give one year from the end of your life, boys?”	"Dobro, dobro," primirio ih je on, "sad vidim da to mislite ozbiljno. No dobro, hoće li se, dječaci, svaki od vas odreći zadnje godine života?"
“What?” said Tom.	"Kako molim?" upitao je Tom.
“I mean it, boys, one year, one precious year from the far-burned candle-end of your life. With one year apiece you can ransom dead Pipkin.”	"Hoću reći, dječaci, jedne godine, jedne dragocjene godine gotovo dogorjele svijeće vašega vijeka. Dade li svaki po godinu dana, moći ćete iskupiti mrtvoga Pipkina."
“A year!” the whisper, the murmur, the appalling sum of it ran among them. It was hard to grasp. A year so far away was no year at all. Boys of eleven or twelve cannot guess at men of seventy. “A year? a year? why, sure, why not? Yes—”	"Godinu dana!" Šapat, mrmor, jezivo sumiranje toga proletjelo je između njih. Bilo je to teško shvatiti. Godina tako daleka zapravo i nije bila nikakva godina. Dječaci od jedanaest-dvanaest godina ne mogu ni naslutiti što to znači biti u sedamdesetom ljetu života. "Godinu dana? Godinu? Mislim, naravno, zašto ne? Da..."
“Think, boys, think! This is no idle bargain struck with Nothing. I mean it. It is true and a fact. It is a grave condition you make, and a grave bargain you strike.	"Promislite, dječaci, promislite! Nije to nikakvo isprazno pogađanje o ničemu. Ja to mislim sasvim ozbiljno. To je istina i to je činjenica.Težak je uvjet što ga postavljate, a teška je i pogodba na koju pristajete.
“One year, each of you must promise to give. You won’t miss the year now, of course, for you are very young, and I see by touching your minds you cannot even guess the final situation. Only later, fifty years from this night, or sixty years from this dawn, when you are running low on time and dearly wish an extra day or so of fine weather and much joy, then’s when Mr. D for Doom or Mr. B for Bones will show up with his bill to be paid. Or perhaps I will come, old Moundshroud himself, a friend to lads, and say ‘deliver.’ So a year promised must be a year given over. I’ll say give; and you must give.	Jednu godinu, to svatko od vas mora obećati da će dati. Sada vam ta godina, naravno, neće nedostajati, zato što ste još tako mladi, i vidim, dotičući vašu svijest, da vi ne možete čak ni naslutiti tu krajnju situaciju. Tek kasnije, pedeset godina poslije ove noći, ili šezdeset od ove zore, kad vam vrijeme počne istjecati, i kad budete žudno željeli još samo jedan dan lijepoga vremena i veselja, pojavit će se gospodin S kao sudbina, ili gospodin K, kao kost, s računom koji treba platiti. A možda dođem i ja, stari Grobolijes glavom i bradom, prijatelj tih mladića, i reknem: 'Isporučite'. Jer godina obećana mora biti i godina predana. Ja ću reći 'Dajte', i vi ćete morati dati.
“What will that mean to each of you?	Što će to značiti za svakoga od vas?
“It will mean that those of you who might have lived to be seventy-one must die at seventy. Some of you who might have lived to be eighty-six must cough up your ghost at eighty-five. That’s a great age. A year more or less doesn’t sound like much. When the time comes, boys, you may regret. But, you will be able to say, this year I spent well, I gave for Pip, I made a loan of life for sweet Pipkin, the fairest apple that ever almost fell too early off the harvest tree. Some of you at forty-nine must cross life off at forty-eight. Some at fifty-five must lay them down to Forever’s Sleep at fifty-four. Do you catch the whole thing intact now, boys? Do you add the figures? Is the arithmetic plain? A year! Who will bid three hundred and sixty-five entire days from out his own soul, to get old Pipkin back? Think, boys. Silence. Then, speak.”	To će značiti da će oni od vas koji bi živjeli sedamdeset jednu godinu umrijeti sa sedamdeset. Neki od vas koji bi doživjeli osamdeset šestu morat će svoj duh iskašljati u osamdeset petoj. To je duboka starost. Godina više-manje ne čini se baš jako mnogo! Ali kada dođe čas, dječaci, možda požalite. Ali, moći ćete i reći: baš sam tu godinu dobro utrošio, jer sam je dao Pipu, posudio sam godinu života predragomu Pipkinu, najljepšoj jabuci što je ikad zamalo prerano pala sa stabla života. Neki će se od vas četrdesetdevetgodišnjaka morati oprostiti sa životom već u četrdeset osmoj. Neki će od pedesetpetgodišnjaka morati već u četrdeset četvrtoj leći na vječni počinak. Je li vam sada sve jasno bez ostatka, dječaci? Jeste li zbrojili brojeve? Je li aritmetika jasna? Godina dana? Tko će zavjetovati tri stotine šezdeset pet čitavih dana vlastite duše da bi vratio starog Pipkina? Razmislite, dječaci. Pošutite. I tada, progovorite."
There was a long brooding silence of arithmetic students doing inward sums.	Uslijedila je duga, duboko zamišljena šutnja, kao kad studenti aritmetičari u sebi zbrajaju duge zbrojeve.
And the sums were very fast indeed. There was no question, though they knew that years from now they might doubt this dreadful haste. Yet what else could they do? Only swim out from shore and save the drowning boy before he sank a last time into a frightening dust.	A ti su zbrojevi izašli doista jako brzo. Nitko se nije pitao, iako su znali da bi za mnogo godina mogli požaliti svoju strašnu brzopletost. No što su drugo mogli učiniti? Mogli su samo zaplivati od obale i spasiti dječaka što se utapao, prije nego što po posljednji put potone u taj jezivi prah.
“Me,” said Tom. “I’ll give a year.”	"Ja", rekao je Tom. "Ja ću dati godinu."
“And me,” said Ralph.	"I ja", rekao je Ralph.
“I’m in,” said Henry-Hank.	"Računajte i na mene", rekao je Henry-Hank.
And, “Me!” “Me!” “Me!” said all the rest.	"I mene!" "I mene!" "I mene!" rekli su svi ostali.
“Do you know what you pledge, boys? You do love Pipkin, then?”	"Znate li, dječaci, što ste to obećali? To onda znači da zaista volite Pipkina?"
“Yes, yes!”	"Da, da."
“So be it, boys. Chew and eat, lads, eat and chew.”	"Onda neka tako i bude, dječaci. Žvačite i gutajte, mladići, jedite i žvačite."
They popped the sweet bits of candy skull in their mouths. They chewed. They ate.	Ubacili su u usta slatke komadiće lubanje od slatkiša. I žvakali. I jeli.

“Swallow darkness, boys, give up your year.”	"Progutajte tamu, dječaci, i odrecite se godine života."
They swallowed hard, so hard that their eyes shone bright and their ears banged and their hearts beat. They felt something like a cage of birds let out of their chests and bodies and flying off, invisible. They saw but did not see the years they gave as gifts wing off round the world to settle somewhere in good payment for strange debts.	Progutali su s teškom mukom, tako teškom da su im oči zasjale i u ušima im prasnulo, a srca im zakucala. Osjetili su kao da im se u grudima otvorio kavez pun ptica, i da su im tijela odletjela, nevidljiva. Vidjeli su i ne videći kako godine što su ih dali na dar lepršaju krilima oko svijeta, i slijeću negdje kao dobra otplata čudnoga duga.
They heard a yell.	I začuli povik.
“Here!”	"Evo!" I potom:
And then: “I!”	"Me!" I potom:
And then: “Come!”	"Dolazim!"
Bang, bang, bang, the three words, and three sounds of shoes hitting stone.	Bum, bum, bum, te tri riječi, i tri zvuka cipela što udaraju o kamen.
And along the hall and between the rows of mummies which leaned out to stop but did not stop, between the silent shrieks and screams, hellbent, rushing, racing, flinging his feet, pumping his elbows, puffing his cheeks, shutting his eyes, snorting his nostrils, and bang bang banging the floor with his up and down, up and down feet, came—	Duž čitave dvorane i između redova mumija koje su se izvile da ga zaustave, ali ga nisu zaustavile, između nijemih krikova i vriskova, napol povijen, trčao je, jurio je, bacao noge, pumpao laktima, napuhivao obraze, zatvarao oči, frktao nosnicama, i lup lup lupao o pod dižući i spuštajući noge, dižući i spuštajući, i stigao, i stigao...
Pipkin.	Pipkin.
Oh how he ran!!!	O, kako je samo trčao!!
“Look at him come. Come on, Pip.”	"Vidi ga kako dolazi. No daj, Pip."
“Pip, you’re halfway!”	"Pip, već si na pol puta!"
“Look at him race!” said everyone with sugar candy in their mouths, with the honorable name of Pipkin locked in their sweet teeth, with his savor in their jaws, with his fine name on their tongues, Pip, Pip, Pipkin!	"Gledaj ga kako juri!" rekli su svi sa sladornim slatkišem u ustima, s časnim imenom Pipkina zaključanim među slatkim zubima, s njegovom slašću u čeljustima, s njegovim krasnim imenom na jeziku, Pip, Pip, Pipkin!
“Don’t stop now, Pip. Don’t look back!”	"Samo nemoj stati, Pip. Ne osvrći se!"
“Don’t fall down!”	"Nemoj pasti!"
“Here he comes, three quarters of the way!”	"Evo ga, dolazi, na tri četvrt puta!"
Pip ran the gauntlet. He was good and fine and fast and true. Between one hundred waiting mummies he ran without touching and did not look back and—won the race.	Pip je trčao kroz šibe. Bio je pravi i velik i brz i silan. Između stotinu mumija što su na nj vrebale, trčao je ne dotičući ih, i nije se osvrtao — i dobio trku.
“Pip, you did it!”	"Pip, uspio si!"
“You’re safe!”	"Sad si na sigurnom!"
But Pip kept running. Not only through the gauntlet of dead ones but the gauntlet of warm sweating alive yelling boys.	Alije Pip nastavio trčati. I to ne samo kroz šibe mrtvih, nego i kroz šibe vručih, oznojenih, živih kliktavih dječaka.
He plowed then aside and raced upstairs, gone. “Pip, it’s all right, come back!”	Odgurnuo ih je poput pluga i potrčao gore, i nestao. "Pip, sve je u redu, vrati se!"
They ran up the stairs after.	Potrčali su stubama za njim.
“Where’s he going, Mr. Moundshroud?”	"Kamo je to pošao, gospodine Grobolijes?"
“Well, I should imagine, scared as he is,” said Moundshroud, “home.”	"Pa mislim, rekao bih, s obzirom na strah," odgovorio je Grobolijes, "zacijelo kući."
“Is Pipkin—saved?”	"Je li Pipkin — spašen?"
“Let’s go see, boys. Up!”	"Idemo vidjeti, dječaci. Dižite se!"
He spun about like a whirlwind. His arms, flung out, cut the air in slicing grabs and swoops. So fast he spun that he made a vacuum, a self-made storm. This cyclone, this huge upsuck of air, then seized the boys by ear, nose, elbow, toe.	Zavrtio se poput pijavice orkana. Njegove izbačene ruke rezale su zrak u kriške, grabeći ga i zamahujući. Zavrtio se tako brzo da je stvorio vakuum, pravu umjetnu oluju. Taj ciklon, taj golemi srk zraka, potom je dohvatio dječake za uho, nos, lakat, nožni prst.
Like so many leaves stripped from a tree they yelled themselves into the sky. Moundshroud, raving, sank up. And they, if that is possible, sank and plummeted after. They hit the clouds like an explosion of gunshot. They followed Moundshroud like a flock of north-rushing birds heading home before their season.	Poput lišća strgnuta s drveća, uz kliku poletješe u nebo. Za njima je u vis potonuo i Grobolijes, pun ushita. A oni su, koliko je to moguće, potonuli za njim kao olovna sonda. I udarili u oblake poput eksplozije sitne sačme. Pošli su za Grobolijesom poput jata selica što lete na jug, domu svome, prije nego što je tome došlo doba.
The earth seemed to give a turn from north to south. A thousand small villages and towns spun under, alight with candles flickering in tombyards through all of Mexico, alight with candles flickering in pumpkins north of the border across Texas and then Oklahoma and Kansas and Iowa and at last Illinois and at last:	Zemlja kao da se okrenula od sjevera prema jugu. Pod njima se zavrtjelo tisuću zaselaka i gradića, iluminiranih svijećama što su treperile na grobljima diljem Meksika, kao i svijećama što su treperile u bundevama sjeverno od granice, preko Texasa i Oklahome i Kansasa i Iowe i napokon Illinoisa i napokon:
“Home!” cried Tom. “There’s the courthouse, there’s my house, there’s the Halloween Tree!”	"Doma!" kriknuo je Tom. "Evo vijećnice, evo moje kuće, evo i Stabla vještica!"

They swooped once around the courthouse and twice around the thousand-pumpkin-burning Tree, and a final time around old Moundshroud’s tall house with its many gables, many rooms, many gaping windows, high lightning rods, railings, attics, scrollworks, which leaned and groaned in the wind their passage made. Dust sifted out of windows to greet them. Shades flapped in yet other windows like ancient tongues lolling to be diagnosed by wind-borne small doctors of strange medicines. Ghosts withered like white flowers, furling and unfurling in moldered flags which fell to ruin even as they shot by.	Napravili su jedan luping oko vijećnice, i zatim još jedan oko plamenoga Stabla s tisuću bundeva, i zatim, za kraj, još jednom oko visoke kuće staroga Grobolijesa s mnogo, mnogo zabata, mnogo soba, mnogo razjapljenih prozora, mnogo visokih gromobrana, ograda, tavana, voluta, koji su se izvijali i stenjali na vjetru što ga stvori njihov prolazak. Prozori su prosijavali prašinu njima na pozdrav. Drugi su pak prozori lupetali roloima, kao pradrevnim jezicima što su laptali, želeći da im dijagnozu postave ti mali doktori vjetrom nošeni i donositelji čudnih medicina. Duhovi su se sparušili poput bijelih cvjetova, smotavali se i razmotavali poput istrulih zastava što su se raspadale u prnje dok još ne bi pravo ni propucali kraj njih.
And the whole house, circled, was like all of Halloween ever. So cried Moundshroud, flapping his antique arms and webs and black silks as he landed on the roof and beckoned the boys to alight and pointed down through an immense sky window through all the levels of his mansion.	A čitava kuća, oko koje su kružili, izgledala je kao najveća Noć vještica svih vremena. Tako je klicao Grobolijes, lepršajući svojim pradrevnim rukama i plivaćim opnama i crnom svilom, dok se spuštao na krov i davao znak dječacima da slete i pokazivao prstom kroz golemi stropni prozor na sve nivoe svoje kurije.
The boys gathered round the skylight window and stared down a stairwell which opened out at various floors to various times and histories of men and skeletons and dreadful musics played on flute bones.	Dječaci su se skupili oko tog, zvijezdom osvijetljena, svjetlarnika, i zapiljili se u stubište što se na raznim katovima otvaralo u različita doba ljudskog povijesnog postojanja, otvaralo u razne kosture i jezivu svirku koštanih svirala.
“There it is, boys. Will you look? Do you see? There’s our whole ten-thousand-year flight, there’s our whole trip in one place, from caveman to Egyptian to Roman front porch to English harvest field to boneyard in Mexico.”	"Evo, tu smo, dječaci. Hoćete li pogledati? Vidite li? To je naš čitav desetmilenijski let, to je čitavo naše putovanje na jednome mjestu, od spiljskoga čovjeka do Egipćana i rimskih kućnih vrata i engleske žetve i groblja u Meksiku."
Moundshroud lifted the vast pane of glass.	Grobolijes je podigao golemu staklenu ploču.
“The stairway banister, boys. Ride it down! Each to his own time, his own age, his own level. Leap off where your costume fits, where you think you and your disguise, your mask, belong! Git!”	"Stubišna ograda, dječaci! Spustite se njome! Svaki do svoga doba, svoga godišta, svog nivoa. Iskočite gdje vam pristaje ruho, gdje mislite da pripadate svojim prerušenjem, svojom krinkom. Idemo!"
The boys leaped. They sprang down the stairwell to the top landing. Then, one by one, they popped onto the banister and slid yelling down through all the floors, all the levels, all the ages of history kept within Moundshroud’s incredible mansion.	Dječaci poskočiše. Skočili su kroz stubište na najviše odmorište. I onda, jedan po jedan, đipiše na ogradu i uz kriku skliznuše dolje kroz sve katove, sve nivoe, kroz sva povijesna razdoblja što ih je čuvala Grobolijesova nevjerojatna kurija.
Round-about-down, round-about-down they whisked, they skidded, they shuffled on the waxed rail.	Okolo i dolje, okolo i dolje, šmugnuli su oni, u brišućem letu, komešali su se na podmazanoj ogradi.
Rrrwhoom-thud! J.J. in his Apeman costume landed in the basement. He glanced about. He saw cave paintings, dim smokes and fires, and shadows of hulking gorilla-men. Saber-tooths burned their eyes at him from the cindered dark.	Rrrrum-buuumm! J.J. u svom orangutanskom kostimu prizemljio je u podrumu. I osvrnuo se. I ugledao spiljske slikarije, mračne dimove i vatre, i sjene gromadnih ljudi-gorila. Iz žeravnoga mraka palili su ga očima tigrovi sabljastih zuba.
Down-around rush went Ralph, the Egyptian Mummified Boy, bandaged for all ages, to land on the first floor where Egyptian hieroglyphs strutted in armies of symbol, with squadrons of ancient birds in skies and flocks of beast-gods and scuttling golden beetles rolling dung-balls down history.	Okolo-dolje hitajući stigao je i Ralph, mumificirani mali Egipćanin, uvijen za vječnost, i prizemljio u prizemlju gdje su se egipatski hijeroglifi kočili u legiji simbola, dok su u zraku bile eskadrile drevnih ptica i jata životinjskih božanstava i gdje su trčkarali zlatni skarabeji i niz povijest valjali kuglice balege.
Crash! Hackles Nibley, with his scythe somehow still flashing in his hands, hit and almost rolled himself to mincemeat on the second floor where the shadow of Samhain, druid God of the Dead, raised up his scythe upon a far chamber wall!	Tras! Hackles Nibley, kome se, tko zna kako, u rukama još bljeskala kosa, tresnuo je i zamalo se odmah smotao u odrezak od mljevenoga mesa na prvom katu gdje je sjena Samhaina, druidskoga Boga mrtvih, dizala svoju kosu na drugom zidu komore!
Bang! George Smith, a Greek Ghost? a Roman Haunt? landed on the third floor near tar-painted porches which glued old wandering spirits to the sill!	Bum! George Smith, grčki duh? rimska utvara? prizemljio je na drugom katu kraj smolom umazana dovratka na koji su se lijepili stari duhovi-lutalice!
Thud, Henry-Hank, the Witch, plopped down in the fourth landing amid witches leaping bonfires in English, French, German countrysides!	Duum, i Henry-Hank, vještica, pljućnuo je na četvrto odmorište sred vještica što su preskakivale krijesove okružene engleskim, francuskim, njemačkim krajolikom!
Fred Fryer? The fifth floor took him in a heap, the Beggar landing among sounds of beggars begging the country roads of Ireland, starving.	Fred Fryer? Četvrti ga je kat primio na hrpu, i prosjak je sletio sred glasanja prosjaka što su prosili po selskim cestama Irske, skapavajući od gladi.
Wally Babb, the Gargoyle himself, flew and crashed on the sixth floor where walls sprouted elbows and limbs and lumps, grimaces of fine gargoyle humors and glees.	Wally Babb, garguj glavom i bradom, doletio je i srušio se na petom katu gdje su iz zidova nicali laktovi i udovi i kvrge, grimase profinjenoga gargujskoga humora i veselice.
Until finally Skeleton Tom skidded off the banister on the topmost floor to tumble and knock white candy skulls like tenpins in a dire game among the shadows of crouched women by mounds, with miniature skeleton brassbands playing mosquito tunes while Moundshroud, far above, still on the roof, yelled down:	Sve dok napokon i Tom Kostur nije skliznuo s ograde na najvišem katu pa prevrnuo i porušio bijele šećerne lubanje poput čunjeva u jezivoj igri, i sve to sred sjena žena pogrbljenih kraj grobnih humaka, dok su limene glazbe minijaturnih kostura svirale komaračke melodije, a Grobolijes, visoko gore, još na krovu, vikao u dubinu:
“Well, boys, do you see? It’s all one, yes?”	"Onda, dječaci, vidite li sad? Sad je svejedno, da?"
“Yes—” someone murmured.	"Da..." promrmljao je netko.
“Always the same but different, eh? every age, every time. Day was always over. Night was always coming. And aren’t you always afraid, Apeman there? or you, Mummy, that the sun will never rise again?”	"Uvijek isto, ali drukčije, ha? U svakom dobu, u svakom vremenu. Dani su uvijek završavali. Noć je uvijek dolazila. I nisi li se oduvijek bojao, ti čovjekoliki, dolje? Ili ti, mumijo, da se sunce više nikad neće dići?"
“Yesss,” more of them whispered.	"Daaa..." prošaptalo je više njih.
And they looked up through the levels of the great house and saw every age, every story, and all the men in history staring round about as the sun rose and set. Ape-men trembled. Egyptians cried laments. Greeks and Romans paraded their dead. Summer fell dead. Winter put it in the grave. A billion voices wept. The wind of time shook the vast house. The windows rattled and broke like men’s eyes, into crystal tears. Then, with cries of delight, ten thousand times a million men welcomed back bright summer suns which rose to burn each window with fire!	I sad su podigli pogled kroz nivoe velike kuće i vidjeli kako se sva doba, i sve priče, i svi ljudi povijesti, osvrću oko sebe, gledajući kako se sunce diže i spušta. Praljudi su drhtali. Egipćani su lelekali. Grci i Rimljani su izlagali svoje mrtve. Ljeto se ruši mrtvo. Zima ga polaže u grob. Plač milijarde glasova. Vjetar vremena potresa golemu kućerinu. Prozori zvekeću i rasipaju se, poput ljudskoga oka, u kristalne suze. A onda, uz krikove radosti, deset tisuća puta milijun ljudi pozdravlja povratak sjajnih ljetnih sunaca što se dižu da sve prozore propale ognjem!
“Do you see, lads? Think! People vanished forever. They died, oh Lord, they died! but came back in dreams. Those dreams were called Ghosts, and frightened men in every age-”	"Vidite li, mladići? Mislite! Ljudi zauvijek iščezli. Oni umriješe, o Gospodine, oni umriješe! Ali se vraćaju u snovima. I te su snove zvali duhovima, koji su plašili ljude u svakom dobu..."
“Ah!” cried a billion voices from attics and basements.	"Ah!" kriknula je milijarda glasova s tavana i iz podruma.
Shadows climbed walls like old films rerun in ancient theaters. Puffs of smoke lingered at doors with sad eyes and gibbering mouths.	Zidovima su se stale uspinjati sjene, nalik na stare filmove prikazivane u prastarim kinima. Oblačići dima lijeno su se povlačili na vratima, tužnoga oka i mucavih usta.
“Night and day. Summer and winter, boys. Seedtime and harvest. Life and death. That’s what Halloween is, all rolled up in one. Noon and midnight. Being born, boys. Rolling over, playing dead like dogs, lads. And getting up again, barking, racing through thousands of years of death each day and each night Halloween, boys, every night, every single night dark and fearful until at last you made it and hid in cities and towns and had some rest and could get your breath.	"Noć i dan. Ljeto i zima, dječaci. Doba sjetve i doba žetve. Život i smrt. Eto što je Noć vještica, kad sve zbrojimo zajedno. Podne i ponoć. I rođenje, dječaci. Pa se prevrnete, i igrate se mrtvaca, poput pasa, dječaci. I zatim ponovno ustajete, i lajete, i jurcate kroz tisuće godina smrti, svakoga dana i svake noći Noći vještica, dječaci, svake noći, baš svake bogovetne noći, mračne i strašne, sve dok joj na koncu ne uspijete pobjeći i sakriti se u gradove i naći malo predaha i povratiti dah.
“And you began to live longer and have more time, and space out the deaths, and put away fear, and at last have only special days in each year when you thought of night and dawn and spring and autumn and being born and being dead.	I tako počinjete živjeti duže, i imate više vremena, i prostora izvan smrti, i možete otkloniti strah, i napokon imate samo sasvim posebne dane u godini kad razmišljate o noći i zori i proljeću i jeseni i rođenju i smrti.
“And it all adds up. Four thousand years ago, one hundred years ago, this year, one place or another, but the celebrations all the same—”	I sve se to lijepo slaže. Prije četiri tisuće godina, prije stotinu godina, ove godine, ovdje ili ondje, ali je svetkovina stalno ista..."
“The Feast of Samhain—”	"Svetkovina Samhaina..."
“The Time of the Dead Ones—”	"Dan mrtvih..."
“All Souls’. All Saints’.”	"Svi sveti. Svi sveti."

“The Day of the Dead.” “El Dia De Muerte.”	"El Dia de Muerte."
“All Hallows’.”	"Noć vještica."
“Halloween.”	"Halloween."
The boys sent their frail voices up, up through the levels of time, from all the countries, and all the ages, naming the holidays which were the same.	Dječaci podigoše svoje lomne glasiće visoko, visoko kroz nivoe vremena, podižući ih iz svih zemalja, iz svakoga doba, imenujući svetkovine koje su svejedno.
“Good, lads, good.”	"Bravo, mladići, bravo."
Far off, the town clock struck three quarters after eleven.	Negdje u daljini gradski je sat odbio tri četvrt dvanaest.
“Almost midnight, boys. Halloween’s almost over.”	"Još malo pa ponoć, dječaci. Još malo, i kraj Noći vještica."
“But!” cried Tom. “What about Pipkin? We followed him through history, burying him, digging him up, walking him in parades, crying him in wakes. Is or isn’t he alive?”	"Ali!" uskliknuo je Tom. "Što ćemo s Pipkinom? Slijedili smo ga kroz povijest, pokapali ga, iskapali, vodili ga u povorkama, oplakivali ga na bdijenjima. Je li on živ ili ne?"
“Yeah!” said everyone. “Did we save him?”	"Da!" rekli su svi uglas. "Jesmo li ga spasili?"
“Did you, indeed?”	"Jeste li, doista?"
Moundshroud stared. They stared with him, across the ravine to a building where lights were going out.	Grobolijes se zagledao. I oni su se zagledali skupa s njim, preko klanca prema zgradi u kojoj su se gasila svjetla.
“That’s his hospital, boys. But check his house. The final knock of the night, the last grand trick or treat. Go ask for final answers. Mr. Marley, see them out!”	"To je njegova bolnica, dječaci. Ali pogledajte i kod njega kod kuće. Posljednji otkucaj noći, posljednji veliki dar il' kvar. Pođite i potražite odgovor na zadnje pitanje. Gospodine Marley, izvolite ih ispratiti!"
The front door flew wide—bang!	Ulazna su se vrata raskrilila širom — tras!
The Marley knocker on the door gaped its bandaged jaw and whistled them farewell as the boys slid down the banisters and raced for the door.	Marleyjev zvekir na vratima zinuo je svojom povezanom čeljusti i zazviždukao zbogom, dok su se dječaci klizali niz ogradu i jurili prema vratima.
They were stopped by a final shout from Moundshroud: “Boys! Well, which was it? Tonight, with me—trick or treat?”	No tu ih je zaustavio zadnji Grobolijesov usklik: "Dječaci! No dobro, što je to bilo? Noćas, sa mnom — dar il' kvar?"
The boys took a vast breath, held it, burst it out: “Gosh, Mr. Moundshroud—both!”	Dječaci su silno udahnuli, zadržali zrak, pa ga eksplozivno izbacili:
Rap! went the Marley knocker.	"Bogo moj, gospodine Grobolijes — oboje."
Slam! went the door. And the boys were gone running, running down through the ravine and up along the street gasping hot gusts of air, their masks falling to be trampled until at last they stopped on Pipkin’s sidewalk and looked at the far hospital and back at Pipkin’s front door.	Tuc! oglasio se Marleyjev zvekir. Tras! oglasila su se vrata. I dječaci su već trčali, trčali niz klanac i zatim ulicom, dahćući vrele zapuhe zraka, a maske su im padale da budu zgažene, dok se napokon nisu zaustavili na Pipkinovu pločniku i zagledali se u daleku bolnicu, i zatim opet u Pipkinova kućna vrata.
“You go, Tom, you,” said Ralph.	"Ti idi, Tome, ti", rekao je Ralph.
And Tom slowly edged up to the house and put his foot on the front step and then the second step up and approached the door, afraid to knock, afraid to find the final answer about dear old Pipkin. Pipkin dead? Pipkin in a last funeral? Pipkin, Pipkin gone forever? No! He tapped at the door. The boys waited on the sidewalk. The door opened. Tom went in. There was a long moment of the boys on the sidewalk standing cold and letting the wind freeze their most awful thoughts.	I Tom se polako primakao kući, i stavio nogu na ulaznu stepenicu, i potom se uspeo na drugu, i prišao vratima, bojeći se pokucati, bojeći se čuti konačni odgovor na pitanje o dragom starom Pipkinu. Pipkin je umro? Pipkin na posljednjem sprovodu? Pipkin, Pipkin, otišao zanavijek? Ne! Pokucao je na vrata. Dječaci su čekali na pločniku. Vrata su se otvorila. Tom je ušao. Uslijedio je dugi trenutak u kojem su dječaci na pločniku stajali smrznuti, puštajući da vjetar u njima ledi najužasnije misli.
Well? they yelled silently in at the house, the shut door, the dark windows, well? well? What?	Dakle? nijemo su viknuli na kuću, na zatvorena vrata, mračne prozore, dakle? dakle? Što?
And then at last the door opened again, and Tom came out and stood on the porch not knowing where he was. Then Tom looked up and saw his friends waiting for him a million miles off.	I onda su se napokon vrata ponovno otvorila, i kroz njih je izišao Tom i zastao na pragu ne znajući gdje se nalazi. A onda je Tom podigao pogled i ugledao prijatelje kako čekaju na nj, milijun milja daleki.
Tom leaped off the porch, yelling. “Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh, Gosh!”	Tom je skočio s praga, i po vikao: "O Bože, o Bože, o, Bože!"
He ran along the sidewalk, shrieking: “He’s okay, he’s all right, he’s okay! Pipkin’s in the hospital! took his appendix out at nine tonight! got it just in time! doctor says he’s great!”	Potrčao je pločnikom, vrišteći: "Zdrav je, dobro je, zdrav je! Pipkin je u bolnici! U devet su mu izvadili slijepo crijevo! Stigao u zadnji čas! Doktor veli da je kao dren!"
“Pipkin—?”	"Pipkin..?"
“Hospital—?”	"Bolnica..?"
“Great—?”	"Kao dren..?"
The air jumped out as if each had been punched in the stomach. Then the air went in and out again in a great rave, a yell, a ragged shout of triumph.	Iz njih je iskočio zrak, kao da je svakoga od njih udarila šaka u trbuh. A onda je zrak ponovno krenuo unutra i van u velikom ushitu, u kriku, i iskrzanom urliku trijumfa.
“Pipkin, oh, Pipkin, Pip!”	"Pipkin, o, Pipkin, Pip!"
And the boys stood on Pipkin’s lawn and the sidewalk in front of Pipkin’s porch and house and looked with numb curiosity at each other as their smiles spread and their eyes watered and they yelled and the happy tears ran down their cheeks.	I sad su dječaci stajali na Pipkinovoj tratini i pločniku pred Pipkinovom verandom i kućom i s tupom radoznalošću gledali jedan u drugoga dok su im se smiješci širili i oči punile vodom i dok su kričali i dok su im se niz obraze slijevale sretne suze.

“Oh, boy, boy oh boy, oh boy oh boy,” said Tom, exhausted, and weeping with happiness.	"O, ljudi, ljudi o ljudi, o ljudi o ljudi", rekao je Tom, iscrpljen, i zaplakao od sreće.
“You can say that again,” said someone, and they all said it again.	"Daj to reci još jednom", rekao je netko, i svi su to ponovili.
And they all stood there and had a fine happy cry.	I sad su svi stajali tako, i lijepo se isplakali od sreće.
And since the whole night was turning soupy with tears, Tom looked around and revved them up. “Look at Pipkin’s house. Don’t it look awful? Tell you what we do—!”	No kako se čitava noć razmočila od suza, Tom se osvrnuo i svima im digao turažu: "Pogledajte Pipkinovu kuću. Zar ne izgleda strašno? Reći ću vam što da radimo..!"
And they ran and each came back carrying a lit pumpkin and lined them up on Pipkin’s porch rail where they smiled outrageous smiles to wait for Pipkin to come home.	I sad su svi otrčali i vratili se s upaljenom bundevom, a onda su ih poredali na ogradu Pipkinove verande, gdje su se opako smiješile čekajući Pipkinov povratak kući.
And they stood on the lawn and looked at the lovely sight of all those smiles, their costumes tattered upon their arms and shoulders and legs, and the greasepaint dripped and running on their faces, and a great wondrous happy tiredness gathering in their eyelids and arms and feet, but not wanting to go yet.	A oni su stajali na tratini i gledali ljupki prizor svih tih smiješaka, s kostimima razdronjanim na rukama i nogama i plećima, a niz lica im je kapala i tekla masna boja, a u vjeđama im se i rukama i nogama skupljao silan čudesni umor, no ipak još nisu željeli poći.
And the town clock struck midnight—GUNNNG!	A onda je gradski sat otkucao ponoć — GANNG!
And gunnng again, to a full count of twelve. And Halloween was over.	I zatim ganng ponovno, sve dok nije izbrojao punih dvanaest. I Noć je vještica bila gotova.
And all about the town, doors were slamming and lights going out.	A posvuda po gradu, vrata su se zalupljivala a svjetla se gasila.
The boys began to drift saying Night and Night and again Night and some Good Night but most Night, yes, Night. And the lawn was empty, but Pipkin’s porch was just full of candle illumination and warmth and baked pumpkin smell.	I dječaci su polako otplovili govoreći laku i laku i opet laku i tek neki laku noć, no većina laku, da, laku. I onda je tratina ostala prazna, ali je Pipkinova veranda bila naprosto puna iluminacije svijeća i topline i mirisa pečene bundeve.
And Ghost and Mummy and Skeleton and Witch and all the rest were back at their own homes, on their own porches, and each turned to look at the town and remember this special night they would never in all their lives ever forget and they looked across the town at one another’s porches but especially on and over across the ravine to that great House where at the very top Mr. Moundshroud stood on his spike-railinged roof.	A Duh i Mumija i Kostur i Vještica i svi ostali vratili su se svome domu, svojim verandama, i svaki se okrenuo da još jednom pogleda grad i zapamti tu posebnu noć što je neće zaboraviti dok su živi i zatim su pogledali preko grada, jedan drugom na verandu, ali najviše prema klancu i preko klanca, prema toj velikoj kući, kojoj je na samom vrhu stajao gospodin Grobolijes, na krovu s ogradom od kopalja.
The boys waved, each from his own porch.	Dječaci su mahnuli, svaki sa svoje verande.
The smoke curling out of the high Moundshroud gothic chimney fluttered, motioned, waved back. And still more doors were slamming to lock all around town. And with each slam, one more pumpkin and then another and another and another on the huge Halloween Tree snuffed out. By the dozens, by the hundreds, by the thousands, doors banged, pumpkins went blind, snuffed candles smoked delicious smokes.	Dim što se izvijao iz visokog Grobolijesova gotičkoga dimnjaka zatreperio je, dao im znak, odmahnuo im na odzdrav. A posvuda po gradu stalno su se uz tresak zatvarala i zaključavala sve nova vrata. I pri svakom tresku otpuhnula bi se još jedna i još jedna i još jedna i još jedna bundeva na Stablu vještica. Vrata su lupala na desetine, na stotine, na tisuće, i bundeve su gubile oči, slijepile, a otpuhnute su svijeće ispuštale miomirisne dimove.
The Witch hesitated, went in, shut the door.	Vještica je zastala, ušla u kuću, zatvorila vrata.
A Witch-faced pumpkin on the Tree went dark.	Bundeva vještičjega lica na Stablu utonula je u mrak.
The Mummy stepped into his house and shut his door.	Mumija je zakoračila u kuću i zatvorila vrata.
A pumpkin with the face of a mummy extinguished its light.	Bundeva s licem mumije utrnula je svoje svjetlo.
And finally, the last boy in all the town remaining alone on his veranda, Tom Skelton in his skull and bones hating to go in, wanting to wring the last dear drop from his favorite holiday in all the year, sent his thoughts on the night air toward the strange house beyond the ravine:	I napokon, kao posljednji dječak što je ostao sam na svojoj verandi u čitavom gradu, Tom Skelton sa svojom mrtvačkom glavom i kostima, Tom Skelton koji se grstio ući, pokušavajući iscijediti i posljednju dragocjenu kap iz svog najmilijeg praznika čitave godine, odaslao je svoje misli noćnim zrakom do te čudne kuće s druge strane klanca:
Mr. Moundshroud, who are YOU?	Gospodine Grobolijes, tko ste vi ZAPRAVO?
And Mr. Moundshroud, way up there on the roof, sent his thoughts back:	A gospodin Grobolijes, visoko gore na krovu, odgovorio mu je mislima:
I think you know, boy, I think you know.	Mislim da znaš, dječače, mislim da znaš.
Will we meet again, Mr. Moundshroud?	Hoćemo li se ikada sresti, gospodine Grobolijes?
Many years from now, yes, I’ll come for you.	Nakon mnogo, mnogo godina, da, ja ću doći po tebe.
And a last thought from Tom:	I posljednja Tomova misao:
O Mr. Moundshroud, will we EVER stop being afraid of nights and death?	O, gospodine Grobolijes, hoćemo li se IKAD prestati bojati noći i smrti?
And the thought returned:	A vratila mu se misao:
When you reach the stars, boy, yes, and live there forever, all the fears will go, and Death himself will die.	Kad dosegneš zvijezde, dječače, da, i kad poživiš među njima u vječnosti, svih će tvojih strahova nestati, i sama će Smrt umrijeti.
Tom listened, heard, and waved quietly.	Tom je poslušao, čuo, i tiho mahnuo rukom.
Mr. Moundshroud, far off, lifted his hand. Click. Tom’s front door went shut.	Gospodin Grobolijes, daleko od njega, podigao je ruku. Klik. Tomova su se kućna vrata zatvorila.
His pumpkin-like-a-skull, on the vast Tree, sneezed and went dark.	Njegova bundeva-nalik-na-mrtvačku-glavu, na golemom Stablu, kihnula je i utonula u tamu.

The wind stirred the great Halloween Tree which was now empty of all light save one pumpkin at the very top.	Vjetar je zatresao golemim Vještičjim stablom koje je sad bilo prazno od svakoga svjetla, s iznimkom jedne bundeve na samom vrhu.
A pumpkin with Mr. Moundshroud’s eyes and face.	Bila je to bundeva s očima i licem gospodina Grobolijesa.
At the top of the house, Mr. Moundshroud leaned out, took a breath, blew.	A na vrhu kuće, gospodin Grobolijes se nagnuo, udahnuo, i ispuhnuo.
His candle in his pumpkin head on the Tree fluttered, died.	Svijeća u bundevi-glavi na Stablu samo je zatreperila i ugasila se.
Miraculously, smoke curled out of his own mouth, his nose, his ears, his eyes, as if his soul had been extinguished within his lungs at the very moment the sweet pumpkin gave up its incensed ghost.	I gle čuda, iz njegovih se usta, nosa, ušiju, očiju, izvio dim, kao da mu se u plućima ugasio život istoga časa kad je i slatka bundeva ispustila svoju tamjansku dušu.
He sank down into his house. The roof trapdoor closed.	Potonuo je u kuću. Kapak se na krovu zatvorio.
The wind came by. It rocked all the dark smoking pumpkins on the vast and beautiful Halloween Tree. The wind seized a thousand dark leaves and blew them away up over the sky and down over the earth toward the sun that must surely rise.	Kraj njih se provaljao vjetar. I protresao sve mračne, zadimljene bundeve na golemom i lijepom Stablu vještica. Vjetar je dohvatio tisuću tamnih listova i otpuhnuo ih i odnio preko neba i spustio preko zemlje i odnio prema Suncu koje će sigurno opet svanuti.
Like the town, the Tree turned off its embered smiles and slept.	Baš kao i grad, i Stablo je ugasilo žeravicu svojega smiješka i zaspalo.
At two in the morning, the wind came back for more leaves.	A u dva u noći, vjetar se vratio po još lišća.