"Charlaine Harris - Sookie Stackhouse 4.5 - One Word Answer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harris Charlaine)

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ONE WORD ANSWER


Charlaine Harris




BUBBA the Vampire and I were raking up clippings from my newly-trimmed bushes about midnight
when the long black car pulled up. I'd been enjoying the gentle scent of the cut bushes and the songs of
the crickets and frogs celebrating spring. Everything hushed with the arrival of the black limousine. Bubba
vanished immediately, because he didn't recognize the car. Since he changed over to the vampire
persuasion, Bubba's been on the shy side.


I leaned against my rake, trying to look nonchalant. In reality, I was far from relaxed. I live pretty far out
in the country, and you have to want to be at my house to find the way. There's not a sign out at the
parish road that points down my driveway reading "Stackhouse home." My home is not visible from the
road, because the driveway meanders through some woods to arrive in the clearing where the core of the
house has stood for a hundred and sixty years.


Visitors are not real frequent, and I didn't remember ever seeing a limousine before. No one got out of
the long black car for a couple of minutes. I began to wonder if maybe I should have hidden myself, like
Bubba. I had the outside lights on, of course, since I couldn't see in the dark like Bubba, but the
limousine windows were heavily smoked. I was real tempted to whack the shiny bumper with my rake to
find out what would happen. Fortunately, the door opened while I was still thinking about it.
A large gentleman emerged from the rear of the limousine. He was six feet tall, and he was made up of
circles. The largest circle was his belly. The round head above it was almost bald, but a fringe of black
hair circled it right above his ears. His little eyes were round, too, and black as the hair and his suit. His
shirt was gleaming white, but his tie was black without a pattern. He looked like the director of a funeral
home for the criminally insane.


"Not too many people do their yard work at midnight," he commented, in a surprisingly melodious voice.
The true answer that I liked to rake when I had someone to talk to, and I had company this night with
Bubba, who couldn't come out in the sunlight was better left unsaid. I just nodded. You couldn't argue