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

hand. "No flying," she warned. "I can't interrupt Mark to have him fish you
out of the treetops."
Lala walked along the creek bank, peering down into the romping water and
keeping up a running commentary of unintelligible words. Meris kept up a
conversation of her own, fitting it into the brief pauses of Lala's. Suddenly
Lala cried out triumphantly and pointed. Meris peered down into the water.
"Well!" she cried indignantly. "Those darn boys! Dropping trash in our creek
just because they're mad at Mark. Tin cans-"
Lala was togging at her hand, pulling her toward the creek.
"Wait a bit, Lala," laughed Meris. "You'll fall us both into the water,"
Then she gasped and clutched Lala's hand more firmly. Lala was standing on
the water, the speed of the current ruffling it whitely against the sides of
her tiny shoes. She was trying to tug Meris after her, across the water toward
the metallic gleam by the other bank of the creek.
"No, baby," said Meris firmly, pulling Lala back to the bank. "We'll use the
bridge." So they did and Lala, impatient of delay, tried to free her hand so
she could run along the creek bed, but Meris clung firmly. "Not without me!"
she said.
When they arrived at the place where the metallic whatever lay under the
water, Meris put Lala down firmly on a big gray granite boulder, back from the
creek. "Stay there," she said, pushing firmly down on the small shoulders.
"Stay there." Than she turned to the creek. Starting to wade, sneakers and all
into the stream, she looked back at Lala. The child was standing on the
boulder visibly wanting to come. Meris shook her head. "Stay there," she
repeated.
Lala's face puckered but she sat down again. "Stay there," she repeated
unhappily.
Meris tugged and pulled at the metal, the icy bite of the creek water numbing
her feet. "Must be an old hot water tank," she grunted as she worked to drag
it ashore. "When could they have dumped it here? We've been home-"
The current caught the thing as it let go of the mud at the bottom of the
creek. It rolled and almost tore loose from Meris's hands, but she clung,
feeling a fingernail break, and, putting her back to the task, towed the thing
out of the current into the shallows. She turned its gleaming length over to
drain the water out through the rip down its side.
"Water tank?" she puzzled. "Not like any I ever-"
"Stay there?" cried Lala excitedly. "Stay there?" She was jumping up and down
on the boulder.
Meris laughed. "Come here," she said, holding out her muddy hands. "Come
here!" Lala came. Meris nearly dropped her as she staggered under the
weight of the child. Lala hadn't bothered to slide down the boulder and run to
her. She had launched herself like a little rocket, airborne the whole
distance.
She wiggled out of Meris's astonished arms and rummaging, head hidden in the
metal capsule, came out with a triumphant cry, "Deeko! Deeko!" And she showed
Meris her sodden treasure. It was a doll, a wet, muddy, battered doll, but a
doll nevertheless, dressed in miniature duplication of Lala's outer garment
which they had left in the cabin.
Lala plucked at the wet folds of the doll's clothes and made unhappy noises
as she wiped the mud from the tiny face. She held the doll up to Meris, her