"EB - Mike Resnick + Martin H. Greenberg - Christmas GhostsUC - Compilation" - читать интересную книгу автора (Greenberg Martin H)

"You'd better close your eyes for this part," Mar-ley whispered.

Lyle couldn't. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched one of the guards staring at the clock and at the precise moment the hands struck five-thirty, he pulled the switch

There was arcing around the electrodes and the body in the chair struggled against the restraining straps. There was the smell of ozone and the smell of something ... else. Cooking meat, Lyle decided after a moment. More sparking and then the body went

36 Frank M. Robinson

limp in the chair, its eyes as dead and opaque as poached eggs.

Repentance, Lyle thought feverishly. Marley hadn't been kidding, that was the only way out.

"Oh, God, I repent," Lyle murmured in a low voice.

"I can't hear you," Marley said.

"I REPENT!" Lyle shouted. "I REPENT, DAMN IT!"

The scene faded and he was back in his cell, seated on his bunk once again while Marley picked at his nails and studied him for a moment.

"You have to really mean it, Lyle, or otherwise you don't stand a chance inЧif you'll pardon the expressionЧhell. Frankly, the odds are against you. Human nature rarely changes." Marley glanced at the corridor clock. "We're running out of timeЧ"

Lyle hung his head and whispered hoarsely, "I want another chance. PleaseЧgive me another chance. I'm ... sorry for everything I've ever done." He meant every word of it, but then Lyle always meant every word of it at the time he said it. "The least you can do is let me see what Christmas might be like if I ... changed."

Marley shrugged. "You've got a point. One changed future coming up."

Once again there was a brief moment of blackness and then Lyle was in a living room even larger than that in his father's house. There was a Christmas tree in the corner whose top almost touched the ceiling and a sheet wrapped around the bottom that was piled high with gifts.

"Be a little more quiet, Lyie," a nasal voice said. "You'll wake the kids."

He pinched himself. He could see Marley standing quietly in the corner but there was no other Lyle. Which made sense, the future hadn't happened yet. At least not for him.

"Did you hear me, Lyle?"

MERRY CHRISTMAS, NO. 30267

37

He was wrapping a doll and perversely crinkled the paper more than was necessary.

"Sure thing, dear, I'll keep it down."

He tied a ribbon around the doll's waist, then turned to see how lucky he'd been in marriage. It was hard to recognize the cute cocktail waitress with her hair in rollers and wearing a shapeless bathrobe. Unfortunately, the bathrobe couldn't quite disguise the fifty extra pounds she'd put on. And even allowing for the passage of time, she was older than he'd thought. Must've been the lights in the bar....

"I think you could've gotten Johnny something more practical than a BB gun; he could've used some shirts and a sportcoat."

Her voice was petulant, whining, and a part of him realized he had been listening to that voice for at least ten years. It had the same effect on him as pulling his fingernails down a blackboard.

"His birthday's hi February; I'll get him the damned clothes then."