"Harlan Ellison - Paladin of the Lost Hour" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ellison Harlan)

The old man walked the two steps to the car -- as Billy watched in confusion -- thrusthis face forward till
it was mere inches from the driver's profile, and said with extremesweetness, "I think you dropped this in
our living room."

And as the glazed simian eyes turned to stare directly into the pedestrian's face,nearly nose to nose,
Gaspar casually flipped the butt with its red glowing tip, into theback seat of the Cadillac, where it began
to burn a hole in the fine Corinthian leather.

Three things happened simultaneously:

The driver let out a howl, tried to see the butt in his rearview mirror, could not getthe angle, tried to look


file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/Ha...n%20-%20Paladin%20of%20the%20Lost%20Hour.htm (10 of 22) [10/18/2004 4:56:25 PM]
 Harlan Ellison - Paladin of the Lost Hour

over his shoulder into the back seat but without a neck could notperform that feat of agility, put the car
into neutral, opened his door and stormed intothe street trying to grab Gaspar. "You fuckin' bastid,
whaddaya think you're doin'tuh my car you asshole bastid, I'll kill ya . . . "

Billy's hair stood on end as he saw what Gaspar was doing; he rushed back the shortdistance in the
crosswalk to grab the old man; Gaspar would not be dragged away, stoodsmiling with unconcealed
pleasure at the mad bull rampaging and screaming of thehysterical driver. Billy yanked as hard as he
could and Gaspar began to move away, aroundthe front of the Cadillac, toward the far curb. Still grinning
with octogeneric charm.

The light changed.

These three things happened in the space of five seconds, abetted by the impatienthonking of the cars
behind the Brougham; as the light turned green.

Screaming, dragging, honking, as the driver found he could not do three things at once:he could not go
after Gaspar while the traffic was clanging at him; could not let go ofthe car door to crawl into the back
seat from which now came the stench of charringleather that could not be rectified by an inexpensive
Tijuana tuck-'n-roll; could not savehis back seat and at the same time stave off the hostility of a dozen
drivers cursing andhonking. He trembled there, torn three ways, doing nothing.

Billy dragged Gaspar.

Out of the crosswalk. Out of the street. Onto the curb. Up the side street. Into thealley. Through a
backyard. To the next street from the avenue.

Puffing with the exertion, Billy stopped at last, five houses up the street. Gaspar wasstill grinning,
chuckling softly with unconcealed pleasure at his puckish ways. Billyturned on him with wild
gesticulations and babble.

"You're nuts!"

"How about that?" the old man said, giving Billy an affectionate poke in thebicep.