"Bradbury, Ray - The Illustrated Man" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bradbury Ray)But now it was tonight, the first night, the good night, and he wasnТt looking at the stars much at all.
УLetТs go to the television carnival,Ф I said. УFine,Ф said Dad. Mother smiled at me. And we rushed off to town in a helicopter and took Dad through a thousand exhibits, to keep his face and head down with us and not looking anywhere else. And as we laughed at the funny things and looked serious at the serious ones, I thought, My father goes to Saturn and Neptune and Pluto, but he never brings me presents. Other boys whose fathers go into space bring back bits of ore from Callisto and hunks of black meteor or blue sand. But I have to get my own collection, trading from other boys, the Martian rocks and Mercurian sands which filled my room, but about which Dad would never comment. On occasion, I remembered, he brought something for Mother. He planted some Martian sunflowers once in our yard, but after he was gone a month and the sunflowers grew large, Mom ran out one day and cut them all down. Without thinking, as we paused at one of the three-dimensional exhibits, I asked Dad the question I always asked: УWhatТs it like, out in space?Ф Mother shot me a frightened glance. It was too late. Dad stood there for a full half minute trying to find an answer, then he shrugged. УItТs the best thing in a lifetime of best things.Ф Then he caught himself. УOh, itТs really nothing at all. Routine. You wouldnТt like it.Ф He looked at me, apprehensively. УBut you always go back.Ф УHabit.Ф УWhereТre you going next?Ф УI havenТt decided yet. IТll think it over.Ф He always thought it over. In those days rocket pilots were rare and he could pick and choose, work when he liked. On the third night of his homecoming you could see him picking and choosing among the stars. УCome on,Ф said Mother, УletТs go home.Ф It was still early when we got home. I wanted Dad to put on his uniform. I shouldnТt have askedЧit always made Mother unhappyЧbut I could not help myself. I kept at him, though he had always refused. I had never seen him in it, and at last he said, УOh, all right.Ф We waited in the parlor while he went upstairs in the air flue. Mother looked at me dully, as if she couldnТt believe that her own son could do this to her. I glanced away. УIТm sorry,Ф I said. УYouТre not helping at all,Ф she said. УAt all.Ф There was a whisper in the air flue a moment later. УHere I am,Ф said Dad quietly. We looked at him in his uniform. It was glossy black with silver buttons and silver rims to the heels of the black boots, and it looked as if someone had cut the arms and legs and body from a dark nebula, with little faint stars glowing through it. It fit as close as a glove fits to a slender long hand, and it smelled like cool air and metal and space. It smelled of fire and time. Father stood, smiling awkwardly, in the center of the room. |
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