"Bradbury, Ray - The Illustrated Man" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bradbury Ray)

УWhat you doing Тway down here? WhereТre the kids?Ф shouted her husband angrily. He glared at the others. УYou going down like a bunch of fools to see that man come in?Ф

СThat appears to be just right,Ф agreed Mr. Brown, nodding and smiling.

СWell, take your guns along,Ф said Willie. УIТm on my way home for mine right now!Ф

УWillie!Ф

УYou get in this car, Hattie.Ф He held the door open firmly, looking at her until she obeyed. Without another word to the others he roared the car down the dusty road.

УWillie, not so fast!Ф

УNot so fast, huh? WeТll see about that.Ф He watched the road tear under the car. УWhat right they got coming up here this late? Why donТt they leave us in peace? Why didnТt they blow themselves up on that old world and let us be?Ф

УWillie, that ainТt no Christian way to talk.Ф

УIТm not feeling Christian,Ф he said savagely, gripping the wheel. УIТm just feeling mean. After all them years of doing what they did to our folksЧmy mom and dad, and your mom and dadЧЧ You remember? You remember how they hung my father on Knockwood Hill and shot my mother? You remember? Or you got a memory thatТs short like the others?Ф

УI remember," she said.

УYou remember Dr. Phillips and Mr. Burton and their big houses, and my motherТs washing shack, and Dad working when he was old, and the thanks he got was being hung by Dr. Phillips and Mr. Button. Well,Ф said Willie, Уthe shoeТs on the other foot now. WeТll see who gets laws passed against him, who gets lynched, who rides the back of streetcars, who gets segregated in shows. WeТll just wait and see.Ф

УOh, Willie, youТre talking trouble.Ф

УEverybodyТs talking. EverybodyТs thought on this day, thinking itТd never be. Thinking, What kind of day would it be if the white man ever came up here to Mars? But hereТs the day, and we canТt run away.

УAinТt you going to let the white people live up here?Ф

УSure.Ф He smiled, but it was a wide, mean smile, and his eyes were mad. УThey can come up and live and work here; why, certainly. All they got to do to deserve it is live in their own small part of town, the slums, and shine our shoes for us, and mop up our trash, and sit in the last row in the balcony. ThatТs all we ask. And once a week we hang one or two of them. Simple!Ф

УYou donТt sound human, and I donТt like it.Ф

УYouТll have to get used to it,Ф he said. He braked the car to a stop before the house and jumped out. УFind my guns and some rope. WeТll do this right.Ф

УOh, Willie," she wailed, and just sat there in the car while he ran up the steps and slammed the front door.

She went along. She didnТt want to go along, but he rattled around in the attic, cursing like a crazy man until he found four guns. She saw the brutal metal of them glittering in the black attic, and she couldnТt see him at all, he was so dark; she heard only his swearing, and at last his long legs came climbing down from the attic in a shower of dust, and he stacked up bunches of brass shells and blew out the gun chambers and clicked shells into them, his face stern and heavy and folded in upon the gnawing bitterness there. УLeave us alone,Ф he kept muttering, his hands flying away from him suddenly, uncontrolled. УLeave us blame alone, why donТt they?Ф

УWillie, Willie.Ф

УYou tooЧyou too.Ф And he gave her the same look, and a pressure of his hatred touched her mind.

Outside the window the boys gabbled to each other. УWhite as milk, she said. White as milk.Ф

УWhite as this old flower, you see?Ф

УWhite as a stone, like chalk you write with.Ф

Willie plunged out of the house. УYou children come inside, IТm locking you up. You ainТt seeing no white man, you ainТt talking about them, you ainТt doing nothing. Come on now.Ф