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

"Maybe so," smiled Meris. "I was just looking at it-women look at fabrics and
clothing with their fingers, you know. I could never choose a piece of
material for a dress without touching it. And I was wondering how much the
seam would show if I mended it." She shook the garment.
"But how she ever managed to run in it."
"She didn't," said Mark. "She sort of fluttered around like a chicken. I
thought she was a feathered thing at first. Every time I thought I had her,
she got away, flopping and fluttering, above my head half the time. I don't
see how she ever-Oh! I found a place that might be where she spent the night.
Looks like she crawled back among the roots of the deadfall at the bend of the
creek. There's a pressed down, grassy hollow, soggy wet, of course, just
inches above the water."
"I don't understand this fluttering bit," said Meris. "You mean she jumped so
high you-"
"Not exactly jumped-" began Mark.
A sudden movement caught them both. The child had wakened, starting up
with a terrified cry, "Muhlala! Muhlala!"
Before Meris could reach her, she was fluttering up from the bed, trailing
the chenille robe beneath her. She hovered against the upper windowpane, like
a moth, pushing her small hands against it, sobbing, "Muhlala! Muhlala!"
Meris gaped up at her. "Mark! Mark!"
"Not exactly-jump!" grunted Mark, reaching up for the child. He caught one of
the flailing bare feet and pulled the child down into his arms, hushing her
against him.
"There, there, muhlala, muhlala," he comforted awkwardly.
"Muhlala?" asked Meris, taking the struggling child from him.
"Well, she said it first," he said. "Maybe the familiarity will help."
"Well, maybe," said Meris. "There, there, muhlala, muhlala."
The child quieted and looked up at Meris.
"Muhlala?" she asked hopefully.
"Muhlala," said Meris as positively as she could.
The big wet eyes looked at her accusingly and the little head said no,
unmistakably, but she leaned against Meris her weight suddenly doubling as she
relaxed.
"Well now," said Mark. "Back to work."
"Work? Oh, Mark!" Meris was contrite. "I've broken into your workday again!"
"Well, it's not every day I catch a child flying in the forest. I'll make it
up-somehow."
Meris helped Mark get settled to his work and, dressing the child-"What's
your name, honey? What's your name?"-in her own freshly dried clothes, she
took her outside to leave Mark in peace.
"Muhlala," said Meris, smiling down at the upturned wondering face. The child
smiled and swung their linked hands.
"Muhlala!" she laughed.
"Okay," said Meris, "we'll call you Lala." She skoonched down to child
height. "Lala," she said, prodding the small chest with her finger. "Lala!"
Lala looked solemnly down at her own chest, tucking her chin in tightly in
order to see. "Lala," she said, and giggled.
"Lala!"
The two walked toward the creek, Lala in the lead, firmly leashed by Meris's