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

Delmer was right: Hannah Bridges did not go down to the creekbank and
confront them. As he'd said, she'd been through so many useless
wrangles
on this subject that she'd about given up hope. And Harry had told her
last time to keep still. "These people are my customers, Hannah!" he'd
scolded her. "How do you expect me to sell groceries to people if you
spend half your time chewing them out?"
"Harry," she said, "I'm sorry. But it's just disgusting! Have you seen
that Lee Wommack's yard lately? Harry, you can't tell me there's any
excuse for somebody filling up every last inch of empty space around
his
house with old junk cars, and old washing machines, and old bedsprings,
and pieces of tractors, and -- "
"Just stop, Hannah." He'd cut her off sharply, and that wasn't like
Harry,
who was as polite a man as she had ever known. "Just let it be," he
said.
"But Harry, don't you think that-"
And he'd cut her off again! "Hannah, if you want to eat this year,
you'll
let it be!" he'd said angrily. "You say anything you like to me, here
in
this house, and I'll listen. I'll even agree with you. But you've got
to
quit lecturing people about what they do with their own property on
their
own land!"
And he'd gone off to the store, slamming the back door behind him as he
went, and left her standing there astonished. It was clear to her that
he
 really meant it; she didn't remember Harry ever slamming a door before
in
all their years together, not even when he'd had good reason.
Remembering that now, she stood at her window peering out as the two
young
men went about their dreadful task. Watching while the pretty view of
the
swift, clear water and the grassy banks and the sycamore tree was
destroyed by the addition of a twisted pile of black and rusty scrap
metal! It had been a car or a truck, she guessed. And they were leaving
it
there, dumping it, right in the middle of the creek. It made her sick.
Only the fact that she loved Harry, and the memory of the way he had
slammed the door, kept her from going down and attacking the two
Motleys
with a garden rake, or anything else she could put her hands on quickly
that might damage them. What kind of lunatic would dump a wrecked truck
in
the middle of a beautiful little creek and turn it into an eyesore like
that? What kind of Ozark madness did it take to think up such