"Gordon Eklund - CrossRoad Blues" - читать интересную книгу автора (Eklund Gordon)

So am I still the same person I was before? Leary ponders, studying his
reflection in the mirror above her bed. Everything about himself seems altered.
(It's a feminine room, full of frilly objects, dainty things: very much her
room. A scent of vanilla rife in the air.) And I told her I wanted to fuck her
dry but now that I have it's as though I've done it with another man's body,
another man's dick. Leary's sensual world has transformed itself too. Sensations
are stronger, sharper...more authentic. Like lye instead of bar soap. And not
just sensations: he realizes how he never believed in the immortal soul till he
Changed and how now even after only a few hours in this new body he believes not
only in the soul but also in God Itself and -- even more crucially for his
present predicament-- in the devil too -- in Satan. For of course Satan is real.
And Satan is black. (As everyone knows. It's in the Bible.) And because he--
Leary-- is now black too -- and just as real --so if Leary exists, then Satan
must exist too. But not as evil: this is where the first great fallacy appears.
And why the Preachings of Rathbone (at least in the form explicated by the
gloriously lovely barenaked plumpbutted Sunny as he enters her again, this time
from behind) upon which he has considerably -- and consistently meditated at
length (squeezing fuzzy cheeks) makes no fucking logical sense whatsoever no
how, no way. Which is how come it all got turned around wrong in the first
place: this whole coonshow thing where God is supposed to be white and Satan
black so the one is all good (the white God) and the other evil (black Satan).

What bullshit, he thinks.

Hell, ask Sunny. (As she squirms, ready to come.) Hell, ask anybody who knows:
white is the purity of the essence of falling snow and black the specter of
death but they're both mixed up in the blood like wine and therefore God can be
as evil as Satan and Satan as good as God and snow is death and death snow. Oh
no nothing is ever as simple as it seems, on my fucking knees, I pray to the
black dog god of Satan ...

Leary tilts, hurls his long hard arms around her chest, cups her milky breasts,
one in each big hand. "I'm going to fuck you dry as a dove," he says.

("There is one other thing you probably ought to know about," she adds later in
the night.

("Like what ?"

("Maybe nothing important, just rumor, but it's part of our regular intelligence
briefings and I suppose you ought to know. But it's so weird I haven't said
anything till now."

("What?
(" Something about a new messiah being born. Like a second Jesus. We figure it's
pretty much got to be tied in with Rathbone's insanity but which came first, him
or the rumors, we don't know yet. Either this baby's about to be born or it's
just been born and every psychic healer and Tarot dealer in the Central Zone
knows all about it, where it is and what it's about, and they're all crazy
excited and thinking it means something significant and important, that it's