"Steven Gould - Jumper" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gould Stephen Jay)

JUMPER
Steven Gould

For James Gould, soldier, craftsman, sailor, father
and Laura J. Mixon, engineer, teacher, writer, wife



PART 1:

BEGINNINGS


ONE
The first time was like this.

I was reading when Dad got home. His voice echoed through the house and I cringed.

"Davy!"

I put the book down and sat up on the bed. "In here, Dad. I'm in my room."

His footsteps on the hallway's oak floor got louder and louder. I felt my head hunching between
my shoulders; then Dad was at the door and raging.

"I thought I told you to mow the lawn today!" He came into the room and towered over me.
"Well! Speak up when I ask you a question!"

"I'm gonna do it, Dad. I was just finishing a book."

"You've been home from school for over two hours! I'm sick and tired of you lying around this
house doing nothing!" He leaned close and the whiskey on his breath made my eyes water. I flinched
back and he grabbed the back of my neck with fingers like a vise. He shook me. "You're nothing but
a lazy brat. I'm going to beat some industry into you if I have to kill you to do it!"

He pulled me to my feet, still gripping my neck. With his other hand he fumbled for the ornate
rodeo buckle on his belt, then snaked the heavy Western strap out of his pants loops.

"No, Dad. I'll mow the lawn right now. Honest!"

"Shut up," he said. He pushed me into the wall. I barely got my hands up in time to keep my face
from slamming nose-first into the plaster. He switched hands then, pressing me against the wall with
his left while he took the belt in his right hand.
I twisted my head slightly, to keep my nose from grinding into the wall, and saw him switch his
grip on the belt, so the heavy silver buckle hung on the end, away from his hand.

I yelled. "Not the buckle, Dad! You promised!"

He ground my face into the wall harder. "Shut UP! I didn't hit you near hard enough the last
time." He extended his arm until he held me against the wall at arm's length and swung the belt back