"James Patrick Kelly - Monsters" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kelly James Patrick)

"Celeste," said Kaplan. "Enough."

"No." Jerry threw the vest to the floor. "I'm not going anywhere unless you
ask Henry. He runs this place but you're all afraid of him. I'm the only one
he ever talks to."

A sound like the squealing of brakes filled Henry's head. He knew it wasn't
real but held his breath, waiting for the crash.

"Celeste," said Kaplan, "I think you should call the police. Tell them we're
having a little problem here."

"See, Henry?" Jerry was full of scorn. "They don't even trust you with the
phone."

"Get the hell out of my store!" Kaplan stepped toward Jerry.

Celeste edged off her stool. Henry tried to think of a way to stop her. He
knew Jerry and Kaplan were very close to fighting; she was going to keep them
from hurting each other. When he closed his eyes, Henry saw broken teeth and
dark blood beading on the floor tiles. His fists clenched. This was so much
better than the shrine. He had never been so close to real violence before.

"Aww, fuck all of you." Jerry snatched his coat. "I never liked working here
anyway. The pay sucks and you're nothing but a bunch of loonies and losers."
He retreated toward the back door. "Just make sure my check is ready." He
stalked out, not even bothering to slam the door behind him.

Kaplan slumped against the spotting bench. "I'm sorry you had to listen to
that." Henry guessed he meant both of them, even though he was speaking to
Celeste. "I should've taken care of him after work, but I .... Listen, we're
going to have to pull together for a couple of days." He looked about as
together as dust. "I'll get an ad in the paper right away. I - I should stay
up front today, keep an eye on Maggie. What I think we need to do is keep
pushing the cleaning out on schedule, which means you'll have to help Henry.
If there's time left, we'll worry about the shirts. No money in goddamn
shirts, anyway." He considered for a moment, then gathered himself. "That
little weasel." He pushed away from the bench and clapped his hands. "So,
then, can we handle this?"

Henry had been flashing Kaplan firing Jerry after work, when there'd be no
witnesses. Jerry coldcocked the brittle old man, then straddled him and
grasped the pink head between his hands. When he pounded it against the
floor, it exploded like a light bulb. The monster was frustrated that nothing
had happened. "It stinks," Henry said.

"I'm sorry, Henry. Just give me a couple of days."

"Don't worry, Louis," said Celeste. "We'll handle it."