"Barker, Clive - The Thief of Always" - читать интересную книгу автора (Barker Clive)

Wendell pointed up at the tallest tree. There was a platform perched up among the branches, with a rudimentary house built upon it.
"I've been working up there for weeks," said Wendell, "but I can't get it finished alone. Ya want to help me?"
"Sure. But I've got to eat something first."
"Go eat. I'll be around."
Harvey headed back inside, and found Mrs. Griffin setting out a breakfast fit for a prince; There was milk spilt on the floor, and a cat with a tail hooked like a question mark lapping it up.
"Clue-Cat?" he said.
"Yes indeed," Mrs. Griffin said fondly. "He's the wicked one."
Clue-Cat looked up, as if he knew he was being talked about. Then he jumped up onto the table and searched among the plates of pancakes and waffles for something more to eat.
"Can he do whatever he likes?" Harvey said, watching the cat sniff at this and that. "I mean, does nobody control him?"
"Ah, well, we all have somebody watching over us, don't we?" Mrs. Griffin replied. "Whether we like it or not. Now eat. You've got some wonderful times, ahead of you."
Harvey didn't need a second invitation. He dug into his second meal at the Holiday House with even more appetite than he had the first, and then headed out to meet the day.
Oh, what a day it was!
The breeze was warm, and smelled of the green scent of growing things; the perfect sky was full of swooping birds. He sauntered through the grass, his hands in his pockets, like the lord of all he surveyed, calling to Wendell as he approached the trees.
"Can I come up?"
"If you've got a head for heights," Wendell dared him.
The ladder creaked as he climbed, but he made the platform without missing a step. Wendell was impressed.
"Not bad for a new boy," he said. "We had two kids here couldn't even get halfway up."
"Where'd they go?"
"Back home, I s'pose. Kids come and go, you know?"
Harvey peered out through the branches, upon which every bud was bursting.
"You can't see much, can you?" he said. "I mean, there's no sign of the town at all."
"Who cares?" said Wendell. "It's just gray out there anyway."
"And it's sunny here," Harvey said, staring down at the wall of misty stones that divided the grounds of the House from the outside world. "How's that possible?"
Wendell's answer was the same again: "Who cares?" he said. "I know I don't. Now, are we going to start building, or what?"

They spent the next two hours working on the tree house, descending a dozen times to dig through the timbers heaped beside the orchard, looking for boards to finish their repairs. By noon they'd not only found enough wood to fix the roof, but they had each found a friend. Harvey liked Wendell's bad jokes, and that who cares? which found its way into every other sentence. And Wendell seemed just as happy to have Harvey's company.
"You're the first kid who's been real fun," he said.
"What about Lulu?"
"What about her?"
"Isn't she any fun?"
"She was okay when I first arrived," Wendell admitted. "I mean, she's been here months, so she kinda showed me the place. But she's gotten weird the last few days. I see her sometimes wanderin' around like she's sleepwalkin', with a blank expression on her face."
"She's probably going crazy," Harvey said. "Her brain's turning to mush."
"Do you know about that stuff?" Wendell wanted to know, his face lighting up with ghoulish delight.
"Sure I do" Harvey lied. "My dad's a surgeon."
Wendell was most impressed by this, and for the next few minutes listened in gaping envy as Harvey told him about all the operations he'd seen: skulls sawn open and legs sawn off; feet sewn on where hands used to be, and a man with a boil on his behind that grew into a talking head.
"You swear?" said Wendell.
"I swear," said Harvey.
"That's so cool."
All this talk brought on a fierce hunger, and at Wendells suggestion they climbed down the ladder and wandered into the House to eat.
"What do you want to do this afternoon?" he asked Harvey as they sat down at the table. "It's going to be real hot. It always is."
"Is there anywhere we can swim?"
Wendell frowned. "Well, yes..."he said doubtfully. "There's a lake around the other side of the House, but you won't much like it.
"Why not?"
"The water's so deep you can't even see the bottom."
"Are there any fish?"
"Oh sure."
"Maybe we could catch some. Mrs. Griffin could cook'em for us."
At this, Mrs. Griffin, who was at the stove piling up a plate with onion rings, gave a little shout, and dropped the plate. She turned to Harvey, her face ashen.
"You don't want to do that," she said.
"Why not?" Harvey replied. "I thought I could do whatever I wanted."