"Zenna Henderson - No different flesh" - читать интересную книгу автора (Henderson Zenna)

I'm quite sure he isn't dying."
Later when Mark was satisfied that the man was sleeping, in the warm pajamas
he and Tad had managed to wrestle him into, he got dressed in clean clothes
and had Tad wash up, and put on a clean flannel shirt in place of his
bloodstained one.
"We're going to the sheriff, after we find the doctor," he told Tad. "We're
going to have to take care of those kids before they do kill someone or
themselves. And you, Tad, are going to have to put the finger on them whether
you like it or not. You're the only witness-"
"But if I do, then I'll get in trouble, too-" began Tad.
"Look, Tad," said Mark patiently, "if you walk in mud, you get your feet
muddy. You knew when you got involved with these fellows that you were wading
in mud. Maybe you thought it didn't matter much. Mud is easy to wash off. That
might be true of mud, but what about blood?"
"But Rick's not a juvenile any more-" Tad broke off before the grim
tightening of Mark's face.
"So that's what they've been trading on. So he's legally accountable now?
Nasty break!"
After they were gone, Meris checked the sleeping man again. Then, crawling
into bed, shoving Lala gently toward the back of the bunk, she cuddled,
shivering under the bedclothes. She became conscious of the steady outflow of
warmth from Lala and smiled as she fanned her cold hands out under the cover
toward the small body. "Bless the little heater!" she said. Her eyes were
sleepy and closed in spite of her, but her mind still raced with excitement
and wonder. What if Mark was right? What if Lala had come from a spaceship!
What if this man, sleeping under their own blankets on their own cot, patched
by their own gauze and adhesive, was really a Man from Outer Space! Wouldn't
that be something? "But," she sighed, "no bug-eyed monsters? No set, staring
eyes and slavering teeth?" She smiled at herself. She had been pretty bug-eyed
herself, when she had seen his un-unbuttonable shirt.
Dr. Hilf arrived, large, loud, and lively, before Meris got back to sleep-in
fact, while she was in the middle of her Bless Mark, bless Tad, bless Lala,
bless the bandaged man, bless-He examined the silently cooperative man
thoroughly, rebandaged his head and a few of the deeper scratches, grabbed a
cup of coffee, and boomed, "Doesn't look to me as if he's been hit by a car!
Aspirin if his head aches. No use wasting stitches where they aren't needed!"
His voice woke Lala and she sat up, blinking silently at him. "He's not much
worried himself! Asleep already! That's an art!" The doctor gave Meris a
practiced glance. "Looking half alive again yourself, young lady. Good idea
having a child around. Your niece?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Good to
help hold the place until you get another of your own!" Meris winced away from
the idea. The doctor's eyes softened, but not his voice.
"There'll be others," he boomed. "We need offspring from good stock like
yours and Mark's. Leaven for a lot of the makeweights popping up all over." He
gathered up his things and flung the door open. "Mark says the fellow's a
foreigner. No English. Understood though. Let me know his name when you get
it. Just curious. Mark'll be along pretty quick. Waiting for the sheriff to
get the juvenile officers from county seat." The house door slammed. A ear
door slammed. A car roared away. Meris automatically smoothed her hair, as she
always did after a conversation with Dr. Hilf.