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

she hesitated.
"Nothing," said Mark. "Except the top of our pine is still there, if you've
bothered to check it. And," his face tightened and his voice was grim, "those
vandals have been at it again. Since I was at the picnic area at Beaver Bend
they've been there and sawed every table in two and smashed them all to the
ground in the middle!"
"Oh, Mark!" Meris was distressed. "Are you sure it's the same bunch?"
"Who else around here would do anything so senseless?" asked Mark. "It's
those kids. If I ever catch them-"
"You did once," said Meris with a half smile, "and they didn't like what you
and the ranger said to them."
"Understatement of the week," said Mark. "They'll like even less what's going
to happen to them the next time they get caught."
"They're mad enough at you already," suggested Meris.
"Well," said Mark, "I'm proud to count that type among my enemies!"
"The Winstel boy doesn't seem the type," said Meris.
"He was a good kid," acknowledged Mark, "until he started running with those
three from the Valley. They've got him hypnotized with that car and all their
wild stories and crazy pranks. I guess he thinks their big-town fooling around
has a glamor that can't be duplicated here in the mountains. Thank heaven it
can't, but I wish he'd wise up to what's happening to him."
"The child!" Meris started toward the bed, her heart throbbing suddenly to
the realization that there was a baby to be considered again. They looked down
at the flushed, sleeping face and then turned back to the table. "She must he
about three or four," said Meris over the coffee cups. "And healthy and well
cared for. Her clothes-" she glanced out at the clothes line where the laundry
billowed and swung "they're well-made, but "
"But what?" Mark stirred his coffee absently, then gulped a huge swallow.
"Well, look," said Meris, reaching to the chair. "This outer thing she had
on. It's like a trundle bundle-arms but no legs-just a sleeping bag thing.
That's not too surprising, but look. I was going to rinse off the mud before I
washed it, hut just one slosh in the water and it came out clean-and dry! I
didn't even have to hang it out. And Mark, it isn't material. I mean fabric.
At least it isn't like any that I've ever seen."
Mark lifted the garment, flexing a fold in his fingers.
"Odd," he said.
"And look at the fasteners," said Meris.
"There aren't any," he said, surprised.
"And yet it fastens," said Meris, smoothing the two sections of the front
together, edge to edge. She tugged mightily at it. It stayed shut. "You can't
rip it apart. But look here." And she laid the two sides back gently with no
effort at all.
"It seems to be which direction you pull. There's a rip here in the back,"
she went on. "Or I'll bet she'd never have got wet at all-at least not from
the outside," she smiled. "Look, the rip was from here to here." Her fingers
traced six inches across the garment. "But look-" She carefully lapped the
edges of the remaining rip and drew her thumb nail along it.
The material seemed to melt into itself and the rip was gone.
"How did you find out all this so soon?" asked Mark. "Your own research
lab?"