"Davis, Jerry - Random Acts" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davis Jerry)

hostility. "For the past five weeks there has been a freak
occurrence in this area where a tiny, bright light appears out of
nowhere in someone's house or office. It lasts anywhere from a
minute to three hours, and is often accompanied by disembodied
voices." She pauses, glaring at him. "This meeting is to give
those of us who have experienced this phenomenon an opportunity to
share our experience with others, and hopefully ease our anxieties
and neutralize our trauma."
"Trauma?"
"Yes, trauma. For some of us it's been a very intense,
unpleasant experience, a breakdown of reality. But it's hard to
explain this to someone who hasn't experienced it. Your presence
here may intimidate some of us from openly expressing ourselves.
We are not seeking attention. One of your articles in the Barb
would certainly bring about public ridicule, and at this stage
that is something we are not ready to deal with."
"You're speaking for everybody." Tom looks around.
"I'm anticipating their best interests."
"Then you're asking me to leave?"
The woman's expression closes down like a mask. "No. This is
a public meeting. I'm just hoping you'll understand the
situation."
Tom stands up and addresses the whole room. "I don't know if
I'll end up writing about this or not, but I promise that if I do
I won't use anyone's name unless I have your permission. If you
feel you have to hide this . . . experience you've had, that
suggests to me you're ashamed of it. If you really did have such
an experience, why be ashamed?"
"You don't understand," Virginia nearly shouts at him. "This
is the first meeting, a big step for everyone here, and you could
ruin it. As a matter of fact, I am going to ask you to leave. You
can come back after we're used to being public about our
experiences."
Tom nods. He turns to Pris and I and gives me a long,
meaningful look with those camera lens eyes of his. He reaches
down and takes Priscilla's hand; Pris stands up, and Tom keeps
staring at me. I stay where I am and he and Pris head toward the
door. I look wistfully after Pris, and when she and Tom are out of
sight I suppress a sigh and feel lonely. The meeting continues,
and one by one people stand up and nervously tell their stories.
Every one is much the same: He woke up and saw this red light
on the wall; she looked up from the television and saw a red light
on the wall; he and she and another were studying and they heard
voices and looked up to see a red light on the wall . . . it was
hardly a spectacular experience by the way they told it.
Nevertheless they all seem haunted by it, and many of the people
around me, young and old, glance around with wide eyes as if they
expect the little red light to appear at any moment.
When it comes to the bum's turn, he quietly clears his throat
and in a husky voice says, "Yeah, I saw it . . . I saw it on the