"Ralph Ellison - King of the Bingo Game" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ellison Ralph)

King of the Bingo Game
Ralph Ellison

The woman in front of him was eating roasted peanuts that smelled so good that he could barely
contain his hunger. He could not even sleep and wished they'd hurry and begin the bingo game. There, on
his right, two fellows were drinking wine out of a bottle wrapped in a paper bag, and he could hear soft
gurgling in the dark. His stomach gave a low, gnawing growl. "If this was down South," he thought, "all
I'd have to do is lean over and say, 'Lady, gimme a few of those peanuts, please ma'am,' and she'd pass
me the bag and never think nothing of it." Or he could ask the fellows for a drink in the same way. Folks
down South stuck together that way; they didn't even have to know you. But up here it was different.
Ask somebody for something, and they'd think you were crazy. Well, I ain't crazy. I'm just broke, 'cause
I got no birth certificate to get a job, and Laura 'bout to die cause we got no money for a doctor. But I
ain't crazy. And yet a pinpoint of doubt was focused in his mind as he glanced toward the screen and saw
the hero stealthily entering a dark room and sending the beam of a flashlight along a wall of bookcases.
This is where he finds the trapdoor, he remembered. The man would pass abruptly through the wall and
find the girl tied to a bed, her legs and arms spread wide, and her clothing torn to rags. He laughed softly
to himself. He had seen the picture three times, and this was one of the best scenes.
On his right the fellow whispered wide-eyed to his companion, "Man, look a-yonder!"
"Damn!"
"Wouldn't I like to have her tied up like that.
"Hey! That fool's letting her loose!"
"Aw, man, he loves her."
"Love or no love!"
The man moved impatiently beside him, and he tried to involve himself in the scene. But Laura was on
his mind. Tiring quickly of watching the picture he looked back to where the white beam filtered from the
projection room above the balcony. It started small and grew large, specks of dust dancing in its
whiteness as it reached the screen. It was strange how the beam always landed right on the screen and
didn't mess up and fall somewhere else. But they had it all fixed. Everything was fixed. Now suppose
when they showed that girl with her dress torn the girl started taking off the rest of her clothes, and when
the guy came in he didn't untie her but kept her there and went to taking off his own clothes? That would
be something to see. If a picture got out of hand like that those guys up there would go nuts. Yeah, and
there'd be so many folks in here you couldn't find a seat for nine months! A strange sensation played over
his skin. He shuddered. Yesterday he's seen a bedbug on a woman's neck as they walked out into the
bright street. But exploring his thigh through a hole in his pocket he found only goose pimples and old
scars.
The bottle gurgled again. He closed his eyes. Now a dreamy music was accompanying the film and
train whistles were sounding in the distance, and he was a boy again walking along a railroad trestle down
South, and seeing the train coming, and running back as fast as he could go, and hearing the whistle
blowing, and getting off the trestle to solid ground just in time, with the earth trembling beneath his feet,
and feeling relieved as he ran down the cinder-strewn embankment onto the highway, and looking back
and seeing with terror that the train had left the track and was following him right down the middle of the
street, and all the white people laughing as he ran screaming. . .
"Wake up there, buddy! What the hell do you mean hollering like that? Can't you see we trying to
enjoy this here picture?"
He started at the man with gratitude.
"I'm sorry, old man," he said. "I musta been dreaming."
"Well, here, have a drink. And don't be making no noise like that, damn!"
His hands trembled as he tilted his head. It was not wine, but whiskey. Cold rye whiskey. He took a
deep swoller, decided it was better not to take another, and handed the bottle back to its owner.
"Thanks, old man," he said.