"Jack Dann - Voices" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dann Jack)

like us. He looked like Pug Flanders, who lived down the block from me: The
corpse had black hair, which was greased back; he had probably worn it in a DA
with an elephant's trunk in the front, but whoever did him up probably thought a
flattop was the height of coolness. It looked like he had had pimples, too, but
his face was coated with makeup; and it looked too white, like someone had gone
crazy with the powder or something. The expression on his face was kind of
snarly: I guess they couldn't wipe it off. I had a strong feeling that I would
have liked this guy.

But looking down at this corpse made me feel sort of weird. Not that I was
scared anymore, but this kid didn't really seem to be dead. It was like this
was some sort of a play, and everybody was acting, just as we were. This guy
just couldn't be dead.

He looked like he was going to sit up any second.

I blinked then because it was almost as if he was glowing like one of those
religious paintings I've seen in churches. It was as if I could see the stuff of
his soul, or something like that. Christ, I almost fell backward.

I knew that was all bullshit, but I saw it just the same.

Crocker didn't seem to see it; at least he didn't say anything. So it must have
just been me.

And then I remembered something about my father that scared me. It just sort of
came out of nowhere!

I remembered the nurse taking my arm and trying to pull me out of the hospital
room. Mom was crying and screaming, and she fell right on top of Dad on the
bed. But I got one last look at Dad; and he looked like he was made up of
light, sort of like a halo was around him and all over him.

How could I have forgotten something like that?

But I did. I must have just pushed it right out of my mind.

"How d'you think he died?" I asked Crocker. Hearing my own voice made me feel
normal again. And that was important right now.

"Who knows? Probably some sort of accident."

"Nah, he looks too good." "That don't mean nothin'," Crocker said. "They can
make anybody look good as new .. almost. He could have even had cancer."
Crocker looked up in the air.

I called his name, but he ignored me. It was as if he was listening to
something. He had his head cocked like the RCA dog.

"Crocker, come on," I said after a while. I was starting to get worried. "Hey,