"Elgin, Suzette Haden - What The EPA Don't Know Won't Hurt Them" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elgin Suzette Haden)

their eyes, and were squinting at the scene. She supposed they would go on
standing there until they were satisfied that it was ugly enough to meet
their standards.
Hannah said a word she doubted her own mother had even known existed,
tears of rage and frustration pouring down her cheeks, and drew the
curtains shut over the window. She had no desire to look out that window
again. When Harry came home that night, she would tell him that it was
time he closed the grocery store and went into the feed business, because
it was animals he was feeding. Beasts!

The thirty days went by, and three more after Granny Motley inspected the
wreck, and two more days on top of that. And then, to Hannah's mystified
delight, the truck was removed from the creek and taken off to be added to
Mr. Wommack's impromptu junkyard, so that she got her pretty view back.
Johnny Beau went to the Granny then, looking - and feeling - very serious.

"Granny," he said, "Mr. Wommack tells me - and there's several as backs
him up, now! - that the grid's finished except for just one single piece.
Is that true?" He knew his voice was shaking like a child's; in front of
Granny Motley, he didn't care about that. He was that scared, anyway.
Sure, he wanted the grid to be finished! He'd been wanting that from the
minute he'd been old enough for the grown-ups to explain to him what it
was and what it was for. But it was scary all the same. This life he had
was the only life he knew.
She nodded yes, but she didn't look as happy as he'd expected she would,
and that was scary, too. "Yes, it's true," she said. "It's really true."
"Well!" Johnny Beau smacked his thigh with one strong palm. "Then let's
get the last piece, for God's sake, and do 'er!"
Granny Motley cleared her throat.
"Come on, Granny," he said urgently, "tell me what it looks like, and I'll
go find it, if I have to hit every junkyard and ditch dump and sinkhole
from here to Little Rock! Come on!"
Her lips thinned, and she got That Look, but she made no objection. Just
started describing the missing piece to him, like he'd asked her to.
It went on and on, while he fidgeted, and the time came when he risked
interrupting her.
"Dammit, Granny!" he protested. "How am I supposed to keep all that in my
head?"
"I keep it all in mine," she pointed out.
"Well, I can't do it. Can you draw it for me?"
Granny Motley made an exasperated noise.
"Granny," he insisted, "it's important. Don't be ornery at me."
"You're a lot of trouble, Johnny Beau," she said.
"There's a lot at stake," he told her. "I do the best I can."
"You serious?"
"Yes, ma'am. Dead serious."
"Wait a minute, then."
And she reached into her pocket and pulled out a crochet hook and a hank
of brown yarn. "You watch," she said. "I can't draw the fool thing, but I
can crochet it." And her fingers went flying, while he waited.