"01 - The Lion of Farside" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dalmas John)

IТd never before felt the way I did then: dangerous. Never knew I could. I didnТt feel at all like the Curtis Macurdy folks knew back in Washington County.
Then I drove on. North of Vandalia it threw a rod, and there wasnТt a thing in hell I could do about that. Not in the time I had. I wondered if IdriТd cast a spell to keep me from following them, and told myself if she had, it wasnТt going to work. Leaving the truck by the road, I started walking. Each time a car came along, I stuck a thumb out, and after a while a moving van went on by me a little way and pulled over. I took off running and climbed in.
УWhere yew a-headinТ?Ф the driver asked me. A southerner by the way he talked.
УKentucky,Ф I told him. УMuhlenberg County.Ф
He laughed and slapped his leg. УTalk Тbout beinТ in luck! IТm deliverinТ this load to Central City; thatТs in Muhlenberg County.Ф He reached under the truck seat, took out a clear glass bottle three-quarters full, and handed it to me. УHave a swig,Ф he told me.
I handed it back. УThanks,Ф I said, Уbut my familyТs all teetotalers. Been that way as far back as anyone remembers.Ф
He didnТt take offense like some might. Just pulled the wooden stopper with his teeth, raised the bottle, took a big swig, and about strangled. УGood stuff,Ф he said with his eyes watering. УNot like most of the rotgut folks sell these days. My uncle makes it hisself.Ф
He started the truck then and drove on, talking about how he wished he was headed for home instead of Kentucky. After a while I started dozing, off and on. Woke up when he stopped the truck for gas. It was beginning to get dark out.
УYew gonna git a crick in yore neck, yew sleep like that,Ф he told me. УIТm figurinТ to drive all night, if I can, but IТm apt to git sleepy. Can yew drive a truck?Ф
I told him I could.
УI put a sofa crosst the back of the load, soТs I can go back there and sleep if I need to. Why donТt yew go back there? Then if I git too sleepy to drive, yewТll be all rested, and we can change places. Git there quicker.Ф
Anything to speed things up. I went around back, opened the doors and climbed in, latching them behind me. After a minute the truck started again. The sofa felt good enough, but laying there, I didnТt feel sleepy any longer. I kept wondering how in the world IТd find the gate, once I got to Muhlenberg County. Finally I told myself, same way you found the pictures. However that was. Anyway it settled my mind enough that I got to sleep.

When I woke up, it seemed like IТd slept a long time. A long time full of dreams. Dreams with Varia in them. Laying there, I felt them slipping away, and they were gone, just like she was. The truck wasnТt moving, so I got up, felt for the latch, and opened the doors. It was night out, moonlight, and a little spooky feeling, but nothing bad. I hopped down.
We were on a country road, stuck in a mudhole. I went to the cab; the driver was inside, laying against the steering wheel asleep. The door was locked, which surprised me, and so was the one on the other side, but moonlight on the seat showed the whiskey bottle laying on its side without the stopper. I decided heТd finished it off after he got stuck.
There was a little field across the road, but otherwise it seemed to be all woods around there, and a big big hill on the other side. DidnТt look like any place IТd seen in Illinois or Indiana, the hill was too big, so I decided I was in Kentucky.
The moon was full and low in the sky, which meant it was near daybreak. I set off down the road with the moon at my back, not liking to leave the driver like that, but I needed to find that gate. I felt pretty optimistic. IТd made it to Kentucky in under a day, even though IТd lost my truck.
Right away I left the field behind, woods crowding the road on both sides. The night was mild, and in a little bit I started enjoying the hike. The leaves were coming out, and it smelled like spring. I must have walked a mile or more before I came to another cleared field, not moreТn six or eight acres, with a little shack at the far end, just back from the road. By that time, morning had started lightening the sky a bit.
The whole shack turned out to be made of shakes, walls and all. I heard a dog woof inside; a minute later the front door opened and an old woman looked out.
УWhoТs out there?Ф she yelled.
УNameТs Curtis Macurdy,Ф I told her. УIТm lost. IТd appreciate if you could tell me where I am.Ф
She cackled like a hen. Her old hound came out past her and down the steps, to sniff my legs without making a sound. УYew ainТt from nowheres Тround yere,Ф she said.
УNo maТam. I just left Illinois, headed for Kentucky.Ф
УKentucky?!Ф She cackled again. УYewr in Missoura!Ф
Now I realized who she sounded like. Her accent was like the truck driverТs, only thicker. He must have drank enough, he decided to go home, and these hills must be the Ozarks. From what IТd heard and read of the Ozarks, it could be a month before the van company found out where their truck was, if they ever did.
УHow far to Kentucky?Ф I asked.
УDonТt rightly know. But yew ainТt goinТ to walk there today. Tell ya what. I got to go fetch water. IfТn yewТll tote it fer me, IТll feed ya breakfast.Ф
She didnТt have a well, but across the road just three, four chains, was a spring in the hillside, with a wooden trough for the water to run out of. She had two buckets hung on a shoulder yoke, and I carried them for her. If itТd been me living there, IТd have built a house on the other side of the road, and run the trough on down to it. Or better, put a pipe under the road.
While she fixed breakfast, she chattered on like someone who didnТt have anyone to talk to very often. УIТm a-goinТ up on the knob, when the sun comes up,Ф she said. УI staked out a young cockerel up there last eveninТ.Ф
УStaked out a chicken?Ф
УOh, thatТs right, yewr from up Illinois way. Yew donТt know Тbout Injun Knob. ItТs a spirit mountain, and every full moon, the spirit comes a-hootinТ.Ф
УA-hootinТ?Ф
УYep. At midnight. Most folks cainТt yere it, but I can, Тcause IТm a conjure woman.Ф
УReally!Ф
УYep. And itТs good to give it a little somethinТ now and then. IТll go up there, and the chickenТll be gone. It always is.Ф
УMightnТt a fox have taken it?Ф I asked. УOr some other animal?Ф IТd read they still had wolves in the Ozarks.
УNot up there. AinТt no critters go up there on the night of the full moon. Fact is, up on top they ainТt no critters anytime, not even birds. They know better. A couple times been young fellas went up there on a dare, the eveninТ of a full moon, and they ainТt none of Тem ever come back down. Then, eight, ten years ago, a perfessor come yere from the university with another feller, both of Тem wearing big olТ pistols on their side, and they never come back, neither.Ф She cackled again. УThe sheriff come with a posse, a day or two later, and combed the woods, but couldnТt find hide nor hair of Тem.Ф
The hairs on my neck started to bristle, and the old woman grinned at me. УYew wanna go up there with me?Ф
I nodded. Varia had said there was more than one gate.
After breakfast, we started up the mountain on a little footpath. Most of the birds were back for the summer, and the woods was full of their singing. I saw gray squirrel and chipmunks and rabbit turds, and lots and lots of oaks and clumps of pine. It was a long steep path, with lots of stops for the old woman to rest a minute, till finally I could see the top close ahead. There was lots of bedrock showing by that time, and the trees were sparse and small. And there werenТt any more birds or squirrels or chipmunks. IТm not sure what they felt that kept them away, but I was feeling something that had my neck hairs bristling again. Either that or I was imagining.
We took one last rest, the old woman breathing hard, and frowning.
УAnything the matter?Ф I asked her.
She didnТt answer, and after a minute we went on. At the top, she knelt down by a knee-high pine seedling with a leather thong tied to it: the tether sheТd tied the chicken with. But there wasnТt any chicken now, nor feathers nor blood, like a possum or bobcat would have left. Just the leather thong, which was either awful short to start with, or something had shortened it.
She still wasnТt talking, and the frown was still there. She stood up and closed her eyes so tight her whole face skrinched together, and she began mumbling something I couldnТt make out. Cold chills ran down me from the top of my head to my feet. After a minute she started to talk.
УSome folks were up yere last night, in the dark. Two men and two women, folks oТ power. And the mountain took three of ТemЧnot et Тem; received ТemЧtwo witchy women, young and perty, and one of the men. IТm a-goinТ back down, right now.Ф
We went. She didnТt have anything more to say all the way to her cabin. I didnТt either, but my brain was going a mile a minute.
I knew just what I was going to do: get me a job around there somewhere, on a farm or in the woods. It wouldnТt need to pay cash; bed and board would be plenty, and the bed could be hay in the barn. I had twenty-seven dollars in my shoe, more than enough to buy a pistol and a good rifle, and plenty of shells. And IТd be back on top of Injun Knob before dark, on the night of the next full moon.


PART 2: The Twice-Stolen Bride