"David Garnett - Off The Track" - читать интересную книгу автора (Garnett David)

wound up the windows and locked the doors. He quickly combed his hair,
then followed Angela. They went around the back of the garage. A one
storey clapboard house stood there, surrounded by even more derelict cars
and trucks.
"Come on in," said the man. "You'll have to excuse the mess, but I'm
packing up. I'll soon be gone."
"Where are you going?" asked Angela, as she followed him through to the
kitchen. A pot of coffee was simmering on the stove.
"Tennessee. Always said I'd go back there some day. Now's as good a time
as any."
"Were you born there?"
"No, born in Mississippi. My folks moved to Tennessee when I was thirteen.
Here, take a seat." He lifted a pile of magazines from a chair, and Angela
sat down.
Despite his annoyance, Michael found himself fascinated by what little the
man had said. Tennessee. Mississippi. They had always seemed to be names
from some ancient myth, but meeting someone who had lived there was almost
like becoming part of the legend.
"Ever since I was a child," said Michael, "I've always wanted to visit the
U.S.A."
"Uh-huh."
Michael's abiding images of America had been of Westerns, the exotic
landscapes of prairies and deserts, of mesas and buttes н- which was
exactly what he'd discovered in Arizona.
"How long have you been here?"
"About ten years. After the army, I moved to Texas to work in the oil
industry." He laughed for a moment, but there was no humour in his voice.
"When we had an oil industry."
Texas, thought Michael, another evocative name.
"But you weren't there when...when..."
"No. I was up in Colorado on a fishing vacation with some buddies. Lucky,
I guess." He was standing by the sink, washing out tin mugs. "You folks
got any kids?"
Angela and Michael glanced at each other, both knowing what the man must
have been remembering.
"Not yet," said Angela. She licked her lips. "You?"
"Two, a boy and a girl. Their momma and me, we split up. She took them
with her to California." He paused. "Los Angeles."
When there was a Los Angeles, thought Michael, but he remained silent. So
did Angela. The man poured them both a cup of coffee, boiling hot and very
strong.
"I'm working on my truck right now," he said. "Soon as everything's ready,
Duke and I are gone."
"Will you be able to carry all your belongings?" asked Angela.
"All I need. What I can't carry, I'll leave or try to sell. You interested
in buying anything?"
The man was smiling, but he meant what he said.
"Thank you, but I don't think so," said Michael.
"What have you got?" said Angela.
"All kinds of junk," said the man.