"Nina Kiriki Hoffman - Courting Disasters" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hoffman Nina Kiriki)

He looked at her, and knew the power he had tried to throw away was still with him. Leaving her
seemed like the most beautiful thing he had ever done: he hadnтАЩt loved anybody so much since his mother
died. Yet, intending to preserve her, he had hurt her, just like he had hurt the last two women he had
gotten involved with.

She released his hand and rubbed her eyes, then gave him a trembling smile. тАЬIтАЩm sorry. You just woke
up. I donтАЩt mean to accuse you of anything. I want to help. How can I help?тАЭ
He thought of the three white roses he had placed on his motherтАЩs coffin. Perfect and unstained. His wish
for her heaven, a quiet place with no sign of the color red. Women should not suffer. But his father was
strong in him, pushing him against his will into relationships that led to suffering. тАЬI wish you would go
away,тАЭ he said, and watched the tears spill down her cheeks.

======

Her chair was empty and the room was dark. He looked up toward the dim ceiling and listened to the
boy breathe in the next bed. The nurse had shown him how to operate his bed; the controls lay under his
hand. Earlier, he had elevated his knees. Now he wanted to lower them, but the bed made so much noise
he was afraid it would wake the boy.

He considered pulling the needle from his arm. Not fast or drastic enough. He touched the bandages on
his face, felt the ones encasing his chest. He thought about the space where a foot should be. Maybe his
new appearance would not affect his job as an organizational behavior consultant that much. He could
still walk into any office,тАФwalk, or crutch, or wheel? Would they give him a prosthesis?тАФanalyze the
personal interactions, the colors, the atmosphere, the lighting, and figure out how to rechannel the energy
into higher productivity. No bones pressing on his brain.

But his last assignment with Express Communications had convinced him that competence was no longer
enough. Or maybe Rachel had. Both the job and the relationship had come too easily, followed too
exactly in the footsteps of the ones before. Although Rachel had started out a little different. She had
trusted him lessтАФat first. He had hoped something outside of him would force change on him, since he
had tried so often to change himself without success. RachelтАЩs strength had given him hope. But hope
was a poison in him that lifted him out of reality, making him vulnerable. He should have known better; he
should have known he could trust himself to screw it up every time.

He began tugging at the adhesive on his face. He was just beginning to enjoy letting himself feel the little
sharp pains as the bandages pulled at the scabs when his arm straightened, then dropped to his side. He
could feel the texture of the sheets, but he could no longer move any of his muscles.

тАФThis is what itтАЩs like when you turn off the ignition and take the key out. I put on the emergency brake.
Leave the masking alone; we want the new paint job to work. DonтАЩt want to start with rustтАФ

His chest moved up and down of its own accord. His eyes blinked. His heart beat. He could feel the
blood moving through him, but none of his muscles responded to him.

Body work.

======

тАЬThey said I could feed you,тАЭ Rachel told him. She reached for the bed control and elevated his head and
shoulders.