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

УThatТs just it. I feel like I donТt belong here. The house is wife and mother now, and nursemaid. Can I compete with an African veldt? Can I give a bath and scrub the children as efficiently or quickly as the automatic scrub bath can? I cannot. And it isnТt just me. ItТs you. YouТve been awfully nervous lately.Ф

УI suppose I have been smoking too much.Ф

УYou look as if you didnТt know what to do with yourself in this house, either. You smoke a little more every morning and drink a little more every afternoon and need a little more sedative every night. YouТre beginning to feel unnecessary too.Ф

УAm I?Ф He paused and tried to feel into himself to see what was really there.

УOh, George!Ф She looked beyond him, at the nursery door. УThose lions canТt get out of there, can they?Ф

He looked at the door and saw it tremble as if something had jumped against it from the other side.

УOf course not,Ф he said.

At dinner they ate alone, for Wendy and Peter were at a special plastic carnival across town and had televised home to say theyТd be late, to go ahead eating. So George Hadley, bemused, sat watching the dining-room table produce warm dishes of food from its mechanical interior.

УWe forgot the ketchup,Ф he said.

УSorry,Ф said a small voice within the table, and ketchup appeared.

As for the nursery, thought George Hadley, it wonТt hurt for the children to be locked out of it awhile. Too much of anything isnТt good for anyone. And it was clearly indicated that the children had been spending a little too much time on Africa. That sun. He could feel it on his neck, still, like a hot paw. And the lions. And the smell of blood. Remarkable how the nursery caught the telepathic emanations of the childrenТs minds and created life to fill their every desire. The children thought lions, and there were lions. The children thought zebras, and there were zebras. SunЧsun. GiraffesЧgiraffes. Death and death.

That last. He chewed tastelessly on the meat that the table bad cut for him. Death thoughts. They were awfully young, Wendy and Peter, for death thoughts. Or, no, you were never too young, really. Long before you knew what death was you were wishing it on someone else. When you were two years old you were shooting people with cap pistols.

But thisЧthe long, hot African veldtЧthe awful death in the jaws of a lion. And repeated again and again.

УWhere are you going?Ф

He didnТt answer Lydia. Preoccupied, be let the lights glow softly on ahead of him, extinguish behind him as he padded to the nursery door. He listened against it. Far away, a lion roared.

He unlocked the door and opened it. Just before he stepped inside, he heard a faraway scream. And then another roar from the lions, which subsided quickly.

He stepped into Africa. How many times in the last year had he opened this door and found Wonderland, Alice, the Mock Turtle, or Aladdin and his Magical Lamp, or Jack Pumpkinhead of Oz, or Dr. Doolittle, or the cow jumping over a very real-appearing moonЧall the delightful contraptions of a make-believe world. How often had he seen Pegasus flying in the sky ceiling, or seen fountains of red fireworks, or heard angel voices singing. But now, this yellow hot Africa, this bake oven with murder in the heat. Perhaps Lydia was right. Perhaps they needed a little vacation from the fantasy which was growing a bit too real for ten-year-old children. It was all right to exercise oneТs mind with gymnastic fantasies, but when the lively child mind settled on one pattern . . . ? It seemed that, at a distance, for the past month, he had heard lions roaring, and smelled their strong odor seeping as far away as his study door. But, being busy, he had paid it no attention.

George Hadley stood on the African grassland alone. The lions looked up from their feeding, watching him. The only flaw to the illusion was the open door through which he could see his wife, far down the dark hall, like a framed picture, eating her dinner abstractedly.

УGo away,Ф he said to the lions.

They did not go.

He knew the principle of the room exactly. You sent out your thoughts. Whatever you thought would appear. УLetТs have Aladdin and his lamp,Ф he snapped. The veldtland remained; the lions remained.

УCome on, room! I demand Aladdin!Ф he said.

Nothing happened. The lions mumbled in their baked pelts.

УAladdin!Ф

He went back to dinner. УThe fool roomТs out of order,Ф he said. УIt wonТt respond.Ф