"L Ron Hubbard & Dave Wolverton- A Very Special Trip" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hubbard L. Ron)

 At his side, Jo Beth squeezed Dumphee's hand and whined. "I'll wait for you," she promised,
while his ma broke down sobbing. His pappy's face was so red that Dumphee figured the old man
would go out to the truck, get his rifle, and find a shady tree to lay under while he waited for the
judge to poke his head out of the courthouse.
But now the judge was shaking his head sadly.
"That's right, son. I said 'prison.' But if that don't sit well with you, then I'll set aside that
penalty on one condition: you enlist in the United States Army for a period of no less than five
years-I do suppose you can shoot?"
"He can knock the eye out of a red-tailed hawk at three hundred yards, Your Honor!"
Dumphee's cousin shouted.
"Yeah, I ought to fine him $500 right now for shooting raptors;' the judge grumbled. "Well, I
figured as much. And you look strong enough to wrestle a bear. What do you say? You can avoid
prison, and this will give you a chance to get out of them hills, see the world.
"Some folks say you can take a boy out of the mountains, but you can't take the mountains
out of the boy. I don't know if I believe 'em. You'll either come back a new and better man, or
else you'll be the Rambo of moonshiners."
Dumphee stood, seething. It wasn't fair. He had plans for his life. Plans for him and Jo Beth!
He wasn't a hillbilly. It was true that his family engaged in moonshining, but this wasn't
unsophisticated hooch stewed up in a bathtub. His pa had a computer, and got orders over the
Internet. Some English fellow would send e-mail, telling what he wanted, then send bottles to fill
with names like "Boar's Breath" and "Hair of the Hound 0' Morgan"-sophisticated whiskeys out
of Scotland and Ireland.
Sure, the Dumphees were selling forgeries-and had been making a lot of money at it for the
past twenty years-but in the past few months the whole family business had begun to go
somewhat legitimate. The new "Dumphee Clan" whiskeys were selling better in France than the
forged labels ever had.
What did this hoary old judge know about civilization? He probably thought that the Internet
was some fancy new device used to catch a trout!
And as for his Porsches, well, the old souped-up T-bird that the government had confiscated
could outrun one of them overpriced, unreliable Porsches any day!
The judge stared at Dumphee expectantly. He offered, "What do you say, son? The Army, or
prison?
"The Army would be easy for a fellow like you, what with the Soviet Union falling apart. I
wish we had a war I could send you into, but I figure, given five years of enlistment, something
ought to come along....
And if you're lucky, I'll get shot, Dumphee thought. He sighed.
"Guess I'll have to take the Army, Your Honor," Dumphee said, feeling queasy.
 Jo Beth squeezed his hand. He figured he could always send for her after he got out of basic
training. They could get themselves on the waiting list for some little dumpy army apartment.
Hell, Dumphee thought with resignation, at least he isn't making me enlist in the Navy.
"Bailiff, remand this boy to the custody of the U.S. Army," the judge said.
Everyone stood up a bit dumbfounded. Everett's uncle came and slapped Dumphee's
shoulder, apologized for getting him in trouble.
Jo Beth fell apart and started weeping. "Oh, Everett;' she said, trembling as she leaned
against his shoulder. "This is so terrible. So terrible."
"It won't be that bad,тАЭ Dumphee said.
She sniffed. "You're always so positive. 'If life hands you a lemon, make lemonade.' That's
the way I've got to think. I just-I just always knew you would make it out of these mountains
someday, but I never thought it would be like this. I thought you'd go to college."
"Well, I still can go to college;' Dumphee said. "Just looks like I'll be doing it on the GI