"Ellison-SensibleCity" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ellison Harlan)

between Rock Springs and Laramie. Three days after that, having driven in large
circles, having laid over in Cheyenne for dinner and a movie, Gropp and Mickey
were in Nebraska.

Wheat ran to the sun, blue storms bellowed up from horizons, and heat trembled
on the edge of each leaf. Crows stirred inside fields, lifted above shattered
surfaces of grain and flapped into sky. That's what it looked like: the words
came from a poem.

They were smack in the middle of the plains state, above Grand Island, below
Norfolk, somewhere out in the middle of nowhere, just tooling along, leaving no
trail, deciding to go that way to Canada, or the other way to Mexico. Gropp had
heard there were business opportunities in Mazatlan.

It was a week after the jury had been denied the pleasure of seeing Gropp's face
as they said, "Stick the needle in the brutal sonofabitch. Fill the barrel with
a very good brand of weed-killer, stick the needle in the brutal sonofabitch's
chest, and slam home the plunger. Guilty, your honor, guilty on charges one
through eighty-four. Give 'im the weed-killer and let's watch the fat scumbag do
his dance!" A week of swift and leisurely driving here and there, doubling back
and skimming along easily.

And somehow, earlier this evening, Mickey had missed a turnoff, and now they
were on a stretch of superhighway that didn't seem to have any important exits.
There were little towns now and then, the lights twinkling off in the
mid-distance, but if they were within miles of a major metropolis, the map
didn't give them clues as to where they might be.

"You took a wrong turn."

"Yeah, huh?"

"Yeah, exactly huh. Keep your eyes on the road."

"I'm sorry, Looten'nt."

"No. Not Lieutenant. I told you."

"Oh, yeah, right. Sorry, Mr. Gropp."

"Not Gropp. Jensen. Mister Jensen. You're also Jensen, my kid brother. Your name
is Daniel."

"I got it, I remember: Harold and Daniel Jensen is us. You know what I'd like?"

"No, what would you like?"

"A box'a Grape-Nuts. I could have 'em here in the car, and when I got a mite
peckish I could just dip my hand in an' have a mouthful. I'd like that."