"Carol Emshwiller - At Sixes and Sevens" - читать интересную книгу автора (Emshwiller Carol)

Of course next morning IтАЩm all worn out. I sleep till eight. Daniel brings
me tea and asks me whatтАЩs wrong. He says I look pale. HeтАЩs milked the cow
and goat for me and heтАЩs already been out in the fields for an hour. I guess
I danced longer than I thought.

I drink the tea looking out the window in my usual spot. I donтАЩt expect
to see her but I do. First I see the cat. Swinging his tail in a kind of swagger.
HeтАЩs so self-possessed it makes me angry. But then she comes out on her
mismatched canes. She gives up, drops the canes and just crawls
dragging her leg behind. ItтАЩs the strawberries she was after. She sits there
and picks them straight into her mouth. She doesnтАЩt look much like a witch
now. More like a greedy little kid. But she doesnтАЩt fool me.

I canтАЩt ask anybody to help me. Daniel certainly wonтАЩt. And, far as I
know, there arenтАЩt any books about it. IтАЩll have to find out everything by
myself.

But, once I think about it, when I saw her climbing up to fix her
window, I wanted her to fall and she did. I wasnтАЩt even thinking about a
spell. Now what did I do right that time that made it happen?

Next time I see that cat IтАЩm going to stare right back at it no matter
how much it stares at me. If anything is evil around here itтАЩs that cat. Maybe
heтАЩs the one in charge of this drought. Maybe heтАЩs the one I should get rid
of.

****

That afternoon I ask her right out where did her father come from. I
bring her a cheese sandwich and pickled green tomatoes, and I pick up
some of her own apples on the way over. She thanks me, nice as could be.

She says he was Romanian. It figures. DidnтАЩt all sorts of odd people
come from Romania? Gypsies and such, and even Dracula?

Her father came out here alone with just that baby girl. Maybe he stole
her. Except you could see she was nothing but a big bother to him while he
tried to farm. I wonder why he wanted her and took all that trouble to look
after her. I guess she must be his real daughter.

Then I ask her, тАЬWhereтАЩs that old dog of yours?тАЭ

тАЬHowie? HeтАЩs around here someplace. He always is.тАЭ

тАЬI havenтАЩt seen him.тАЭ

HeтАЩs no particular kind, just a big, lumpy dog. Almost as red as the
cat. There must be a reason why every creature around here is red.

That cat and I stare at each other. IтАЩm the one that looks away first