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dy weeds grow up a little； but no tree or vine or tall grass takes root。 The very shade trees by the avenues； lacking man's care； die in their shallow pockets。 The deer and the rabbits shun the empty streets； after a while even the rats go away。 Only the flying creatures find there a refuge…the birds nest on the high ledges； and at morning and evening the bats fly out and in through the few broken windows。 It will remain a long time； a very long time。
He turned south on Broadway； thinking to follow it clear to the Battery。 At 170th Street； however； he came to a very official…looking STREET CLOSED sign with an arrow directing him to detour eastward。 He could have driven past the sign and ahead； but he felt a caprice to yield docilely to instructions。 He drove over to Amsterdam Avenue； and then went south again。 His nostrils let him know that the Medical Center must have been one of the last points of concentration； and that the detour sign had been put up to give directions around it。
Amsterdam Avenue was vacant too。 Somewhere in these vast accumulations of concrete and brick and mortar and plaster； somewhere in all these cave…like holes that men called rooms； somewhere certainly； some people must be living。 The catastrophe had been nearly universal； and in overcrowded Manhattan the disease had probably raged even more severely than elsewhere。 Also； he thought； what he had e to call the Secondary Kill might have been more severe in a wholly urbanized population。 Nevertheless； he had already learned； that a few people had survived elsewhere； and surely among the millions of Manhattan there would be some。 But he did not bother to blow his horn； a mere straggler here and there he had found to be of little interest to him now。
He drove on； block after block。 Everything was quiet and motionless。 The clouds had broken； and the sun stood high overhead； but the sidewalks were as empty as if the sun had been the moon and the hour had been three in the morning。 Even then he would have seen a beat…walking policeman or have met a night…hawk cab。 He passed an empty playground。
A few cars were parked along the curbs。 He remembered that his father had driven him through downtown Manhattan on a Sunday when even Wall Street lay deserted。 This was much the same； but worse。
At last； near Lewisohn Stadium； nuzzling around an entryway； two thin…looking dogs supplied the first sign of life。 In the next block he saw a few pigeons fluttering about； not many。
He drove on； passed the red…brick buildings of Columbia' University； and stopped in front of the high； still unfinished cathedral。 It was unfinished now； and so it would remain。
He pushed at the door； it swung open； he entered。 Momentarily he had a horrible thought that he might find the nave； Piled with the bodies of those who at the last hour had gathered there to pray。 But there was no one。 He walked down a side aisle； and went into the little chapels of the apse； one after another…those where the English and the French and the Italians and all the others of that teeming polyglot city had been invited to kneel and worship。 The sunlight streamed in at the stained…glass windows； it was all as beautiful as he remembered from before。 He had a wild desire to throw himself on his knees before one of the altars。 〃There are no atheists in fox holes；〃 he remembered； but the whole world now was nothing but a huge fox hole！ But certainly what had happened did not inspire one to think that God was particularly interested in the human race； or in its individuals。
He walked back along the main aisle。 Turning； he looked up the nave； and let its grandeur beat in upon him。 He felt a little choking in the throat。 This； then； was the end of all man's highest striving and aspiration。。。。 He went out to the empty street； and got into the car again。
At Cathedral Parkway he swung east； and defying traffic signs entered Central Park and went south along the East Drive； thinking that on a summer day people might go to the Park as they would have done ordinarily。 But he saw no one。 From his previous visit as a boy he remembered squirrels； but he saw no squirrels either； starving dogs and cats had apparendy accounted for them already。 On a meadow he saw a bison bull grazing； not far off； a horse。 He passed the back of the Metropolitan Museum； and saw Cleopatra's Needle； now doubly orphaned。 At Sherman's statue he swung into Fifth Avenue； and a tag…end of verse popped into his mind： 〃Now all your victories are in vain。〃
An island within an island； the green oblong of the Park will remain。 It has open soil where the rain penetrates。 The sun shines upon it。 In the first season the grass grows tall； the seeds fall from the trees and bushes； the birds bring in more seeds。 Give it two seasons； three seasons； and the eager saplings are sprouting。 Give it twenty years； and it is a jungle of second growth with each tree straining upward to gain light above itsfellows； and the hardy natives； fast…growing ash and maple； crowding out the soft exotics which man once planted there。 You hardly see the bridle path any more； leaf…litter lies thick on the narrow roads。 Give it a hundred years； and you walk in full…grown forest； scarcely knowing that man was ever there except where the stone arch still spans the under…pass； making a strange cave。 The doe walks in the woods； and the wild…cat leaps upon the rabbit； and the bass jumps in the lake。
In the tall windows of the fashion shops； the mannequins still postured strangely in gay costumes； their jewelry flashing。 But Fifth Avenue lay before him empty； as quiet as Main Street of Podunk on a Sunday morning。 The windows of one great jewelry store had been smashed。 〃I hope；〃 thought Ish； 〃he found the diamonds good eating； poor guy。 No； I hope he was somebody who liked pretty stones because they were pretty； like a child picking them up on the beach。 Perhaps； with his diamonds and rubies； he really died happier。〃 On the whole； however； there was little disturbance along Fifth Avenue。 〃The corpse is laid out in good condition；〃 he thought。 〃Yes； Fifth Avenue makes a beautiful corpse。〃
A few pigeons fluttered up at Rockefeller Center； disturbed now by the sound of a single motor。 At Forty…second Street； yielding to a whim； he stopped the car in the middle of Fifth Avenue and got out； leaving Princess shut up。
He walked east on Forty…second Street； the empty sidewalk ridiculously wide。 He entered Grand Central Terminal； and looked in at the vast expanse of waiting…room。
〃Waugh！〃 he called loudly； and felt a child…like pleasure as an echo came reverberating back from the high vault； through the emptiness。
He wanderedd back to the street； and a revolving door caught his eye。 He pushed against it idly； and found himself in the lobby of a large hotel。 Flanked by huge chairs and davenports； the lobby led on to the desk。
Standing just inside the door； he had a moment's idea of approaching the desk and entering into an imaginary conversation with the reservation…clerk。 He had telegraphed from…well； Kansas City would be a good place。 Yes； and his reservation had been confirmed！ What were all these excuses now？ But the insane notion faded。 With a thousand rooms empty and the poor clerk gone…who knew where？…the joke was not very funny。
At the same time also he noticed something different。 Over all the chairs and davenports and cigarette…stands and marble floors lay a distinct layer of gray dust。
Perhaps； not being a housekeeper； he had not previously noticed dust； or perhaps this place was particularly dusty。 No matter which！ From now on； dust would be a part of his life。
Back at the car； he slipped it into gear； crossed Forty…second Street； and continued south。 On the steps of the Library he saw a gray cat crouched； paws stretched out in front； as if in caricature of the stone lions above。
At the Flatiron Building he turned into Broadway； and followed it clear …to Wall Street。 There they both got out； and Princess showed interest in some kind of trail which ran along the sidewalk。 Wall Street！ He enjoyed walking along its empty length。 With a little observation he diskovered that there was some grass； weeds rather； showing green here and there in the cracks of the gutter。 He remembered the family story that an early Dutch settler； one of their ancestors； had owned a good farm in this vicinity。 His father； when the bills were high； used to say； 〃Well； I wish we had held on to that farm on Manhattan Island；〃 Now Ish could take the land back for all that anybody cared。 Yet this wilderness of concrete and steel and asphalt was the last place where anybody would really care to live now。 He would trade that Wall Street farm for any ten acres in Napa Valley； or even for a small er of Central Park。
He walked back to his car； and drove south on Broadway still； the little distance to the Battery。 There he gazed across the expanse of the lower Bay toward the ocean。 This was the end of the road。
There might be munities left in Europe or South America or on some of the islands； but he could not go to find out。 Right here； doubtless； his Dutch ancestor had e ashore some three hundred years ago。 Now he； Ish； had rounded the full circle。
He noticed the Statue of Liberty。 〃Liberty！〃 he thought ironically。 〃At least； I have that！ More than anyone ever thought of； when they put the lady up there with her torch！〃
Close to the shore of Governor's Island a large liner was beached。 She must have been run aground at high tide； and now at low tide she loomed up far above the water； canted at a crazy angle。 Secretly infected before leaving Europe； before long with passengers and crew alike dead and dying； that ship must have made desperately for port…for a port which itself had strangely ceased to send out signals。 No tugs came out to meet her。 Perhaps a dying boatswain on the bridge lacked even the crew to drop an anchor； and with dimming eyes merely steered her toward the mudbank。 There she would rest； and doubtless the waves would wash up mud against her obstructing bulk； and in a century she would be almost indistinguishable…the rust…covered center of a little island with trees growing up around her。
Going on； Ish swung off through the East Side； struck a noisome area again at the great center of Bellevue Hospital； turned west and found the same difficulty around Pennsylvania Station and the adjoining hotels； and finally went north on Eleventh Avenue。 He turned into Riverside Drive； and noticed that the sun was getting low over the smokeless smokestacks of the Jersey shore。 He was just wondering where he should spend the night when he heard a voice calling out； 〃Hi； there！〃
Princess burst into a frenzy of barking。 Stopping the car； he looked back； and saw a man emerging from the entryway of an apartment house。 Ish got out to meet him； leaving the barking Princess in the car。
The man advanced with outstretched hand。 He was pletely conventional…looking； well shaved； wearing a tropical worsted suit； with even the coat on。 He was middle…aged and overweight； with a smiling face。 Ish half expected him to break into the conventional shopkeeper's greeting 〃Well； sir； what can I do for you today？〃
〃Abrams is the name；〃 he said； 〃Milt Abrams。〃
Ish fumbled for his own name…it was so long since he had thought of it。 Introductions over； Milt Abrams took him inside。 They went into a pleasant apartment on the second floor。 A blond…haired woman； about forty； well dressed； almost smart…looking； was sitting at a cocktail table； and there was a cocktail shaker before her。 〃Meet…the Mrs。；〃 said Milt Abrams； and from the way he hesitated； Ish knew that the Mrs。 merely covered up his embarrassment。 The catastrophe would scarcely have spared a husband and wife； and there had been no opportunity for any ceremony since。 Milt Abrams was obviously conventional enough to let this worry him even under the circumstances。
The Mrs。 looked at Ish with a smile； possibly at Milt's disfort。 〃Call me Ann；〃 she said。 〃And have a drink！ Warm martinis； that's all I can offer you！ Not a scrap of ice in New York City！〃 In her own way she was as typical a New Yorker as Milt。
〃I tell her；〃 said Milt。 〃I keep o