"Mel Gilden - Zoot Marlow 2 - Hawaiian UFO Aliens" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gilden Mel)

At last, exhausted and thirsty for a drink of fresh water, I crawled onto the beach. It should have been
daytime, but the black, boiling clouds kept out the sunlight. I lay on the sand, relieved that the rain and
blustering wind were all I had to deal with.
I walked up the soggy mess of a beach and came at last to the house. As was always the case when
Whipper Will wasn't around to remind them to lock it, the back door opened easily without a key.
The usual crowd was sprawled about the living room, watching a Gino and Darlene movie on TV.
'Hey, dude,' Thumper called to me from the far side of the room, which was a compliment of sorts.
I'd have guessed he was too busy with Flopsie (or was it Mopsie?) to notice my appearance in the
doorway. Everybody actually looked away from the TV for a moment to acknowledge my existence.
Hanger and whichever redhead wasn't busy with Thumper got up and gave me a friendly cuddle. You
didn't have to be human to appreciate how warm and soft they were.
Mustard took a joint from his face and said, 'Wet enough for you?'
'He likes it wet,' Captain Hook said. 'They all like it wet in Bay City.' He never took his eyes off the
TV screen.
The Captain was in one of his moods, so I obliged him with a low-grade zinger. 'Sure,' I said. 'That's
why Bay City is near the beach.'
Thumper pounded the flat of his hand against the floor and shouted 'Ahh-roooh! Zoot is back'. The
rest of them took up the cry. All but Captain Hook. He was too busy watching Darlene jiggle across the
TV screen.
At my feet was a puddle of salt water big enough to do laps in. I waved at the crowd, told them that I
had to change, and walked along the dark hall to Whipper Will's room. As far as I could tell, nothing had
been touched. Nobody had washed the laundry, that was for sure.
After pulling out a flat, waterproof packet and throwing it onto the bed, I peeled off my short Johns,
padded into the bathroom with them, and hung them on a hook, where they dripped rhythmically. I
rubbed myself down good with a towel. Feeling more like myself all the time, I went back into the
bedroom and put on my Earth clothes. The brown suit felt natural. I unwrapped the sheets in the
waterproof packet and put them into my inside coat pocket. The trenchcoat and the fedora could wait.
In the kitchen I found a glass that had not seen much action, and drank tap water from it. I rinsed out
the glass with a little soap and water and set it in the drainer, where it was all alone except for a fork that
might have been clean. I was ready for anything now, so I went back into the bedroom and hefted Bill
out of the closet.
Even in the dim light. Bill's silver body shone. I could barely hear a song about surfing and young love
that was playing on the TV in the other room. Rain blew against the side of the house, went away, came
back even harder. I reached down and pulled the flypaper off Bill's head.
He blinked and said, 'Bay City! Ya! Have a nice trip, Boss.'
'I had a nice trip, thanks. Now I'm back.'
He computed that for a moment, then said, 'How long?'
'A few weeks.'
He nodded the way I might have, 'What's the scam now?'
'I need a driver's licence. You know where I can get one?'
'My meat. Boss.'
'Wait a minute.' I put on my trenchcoat and my fedora, figuring that the weather being what it was,
wearing them did more than just put me in uniform. I followed Bill as he waddled from the room and
down the dark hallway. We hurried through the rain and cold across the small garden where Will grew
the fruits for his yoyogurt, into the garage.
The Chevrolet Belvedere was waiting for me, looking like the ghost of a car in the grey air. Far away,
thunder grumbled about how lightning got all the publicity. I lifted the garage door, letting in uncertain light
and a good view of Pacific Coast Highway. A car swished by every so often, stirring up a big lonely
sound, but the street was more deserted than I'd ever seen it. When I opened the car, it smelled musty
and damp. I let Bill in the other side and he sat near the window, his legs not quite long enough to dangle