"Nicola Griffith - Yaguara" - читать интересную книгу автора (Griffith Nicola)

eighteen feet square, with plasterboard walls and a dirt floor. There
were wooden-framed bunks, each with a blue blanket.
Two bunks. No room into which she could retreat and close
the door.
тАЬThereтАЩs a toilet over here,тАЭ Cleis pointed, тАЬthough I, we,
have to fill the cistern from a bucket. The wellтАЩs in the village;
Ixbalum lets me, us, use that at least. The stove uses propane.тАЭ She
lit a match, turned a knob, demonstrated. тАЬI cleared some of the
shelf space for your things.тАЭ
Jane looked at the clothes already on the shelf. New.
Aggressively good quality. She had seen clothes like that before,
when she shared a room at Cambridge with a scholarship girl.
 The windows were holes cut in the wall and screened, the
door a flimsy affair. Jane looked for a lock.
тАЬNo one will steal anything. Ixbalum wonтАЩt even let anyone
near this place.тАЭ Jane nodded, wondering who Ixbalum was.
тАЬWeтАЩve got three Coleman lampsтАжтАЭ
Jane closed her eyes. Sharing. The hut smelled of heat and
mildew and sweat, and faintly of gas and matches, but behind that
lay the must of forest animals and the heavy green scent of
ceaseless growth. She felt trapped.
тАЬтАж last as long as possible, because I hate the drive to
Benque Viejo for more supplies, though if youтАЩre willing, we can
take turns on that chore. Jane?тАЭ
She opened her eyes, smiled her warm, practiced smile.
тАЬThank you for going to so much trouble.тАЭ How am I going to survive
this?


The well was at the western edge of the village. Jane wound
up the bucket. тАЬWhere is everyone?тАЭ
тАЬTending their milpas. Or hunting. Some are hiding in their
houses. The children are running wild, or maybe watching us right
now.тАЭ
Jane could see only trees, and the inevitable chickens.
The bucket creaked to the lip of the well. Jane concentrated
on pouring from the wooden bucket into the galvanized steel pail.
She was fascinated by the cool clear flow, the fact that water could
stay cold in one-hundred-degree heat. She dipped her hand in it.
Someone behind her spoke in a throaty Mayan dialect. Jane
turned, saw a short, muscular woman with squat powerful limbs
and a large jaw.
тАЬJane, this is Ixbalum.тАЭ
 тАЬWhat did she say?тАЭ
тАЬThat rivers are for playing with, well water for drinking.тАЭ
Ixbalum lifted JaneтАЩs left arm, laid it next to her own, pointed
to the mahogany brown then the honey, dropped the arm, lifted
CleisтАЩs arm, compared the mahogany to teak, spoke for a while,
then padded away into the trees.
Jane realized she was wiping her hands on her shorts, stopped.