"Terry Dowling - Clownette" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dowling Terry)

the whole thing.

I didn't, couldn't. Not yet.

What if the Motley reappeared just before she arrived? That's how these things happened, didn't they?

It was that certaintyтАФabsurd, laughable, vivid at this hourтАФthat stopped me. Not because I truly
believed it would or could happen, but because the certainty itself felt so real, had me so completely.

I couldn't help it. What if Carmen came up and the smudges did re-form just as she knocked at the
door?

It took me back to my thoughts about Gordon staying the night in 516, being changed by the Motley.
Maybe it adjusted your mind, how you saw things. That was it! The Motley was still there, had worked
its special Bozo magic and done something to my ability to see it!

I grinned, laughed, was still able to, thank God, tracking my growing fear with an equally impressive
detachment. I needed to act, do something.

"Clever, Mr. M.," I told the blank wall. "Seems this round might go to you unless a little Jackson finessing
can save the day."

Save the day? I immediately corrected myself. Save the night! That was more like it, but definitely the
wrong thought right then.

I grabbed the phone handset from the cradle by the bed and pressed the key for the front desk.

After a ten-second delay, Carmen answered. "Reception?"

"Carmen, it's Bob Jackson in 516."

"We don't talk to you."

I froze where I stood.

"What? What did you say?"

"I said: 'Yes, Mr. Jackson? How can I help?'"

"No, what did you just say before that?"

"I said, 'Yes, Mr. Jackson?' Is there something wrong?"

Sure is, kiddo. I've spooked myself good!

But no point pushing it. It adjusts your mind. "AhтАФlook, I know it's late, Carmen, but I'm really not
sleeping too well. Would you have any sleeping pills down there?"

"Of course, Mr. Jackson. I can't leave the deskтАФ"
"That's okay. That's fine. I'll be right down. Thanks, Carmen."