"James Patrick Kelly - Fruitcake Theory" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kelly James Patrick)

"Well, at least youТre not fat." Bjorn laughs and hands
me the MurrayТs. Just to be sociable, I take a drink.
=Person is fat,= says the rooster. =Person feels
stupid.=
I hear running footsteps. Our backup is coming fast.
When I think of how this is going to look to the rest of
the following team, I start to giggle. "WeТre screwed,"
I say.
"Very." Bjorn thinks itТs funny too.
Balfour herself is leading the charge. "Maggie!" When
she spots us she pulls up. She stares as if she has just
caught Santa shoplifting.
I struggle to my knees and hold both hands out to warn
them. "Get out of here, now! ItТs an airborne
intoxicant." I realize IТm waving a can of MurrayТs
Chocolate Mint Wine at the Undersecretary for Alien
Affairs. I set it discreetly on the plastic tablecloth.
"Gas masks in the van," Balfour says to the team as she
covers her mouth and nose with her hand. "Clear the
store. No, clear the mall. Seal everything." A handful
of them peel off, running. The other followers goggle at
us, then back away uncertainly. "Kasaan is looking for
him," she says. "Are you okay?"
"Sure," says Bjorn. "Tidal of comfort and joy."
"I think weТre all right," I say. "But weТre not
observing anymore. WeТre part of it, Balfour. Now move,
before itТs too late."
They leave, dragging the giggling menswear clerk after
them. The rooster stands and brushes a few white threads
off. =Person, is there fruitcake?=
We find fruitcake at the North Pole, a seasonal kiosk
halfway down the Home Depot arm of the mall. The North
Pole also sells ten different flavors of candy canes,
boxes of assorted chocolates and Christmas cookies in
green foil wrap, marshmallow elves, and fudge
tannenbaums. Gene Autrey sings "Rudolph the Red-Nosed
Reindeer" from hidden speakers as an animated Santa and
his full complement of reindeer cavort around the
circular base of the kiosk. I know itТs the rooster
smell which continues to float up my nose, but I find
myself humming along with Gene.
The fruitcake is stacked five high in round red tins
decorated with scenes of cherry-faced kids building
snowmen and wrapped in cellophane. Bjorn takes one off
the top and gives it to the rooster.
"This is fruitcake," he says.
The rooster takes it, turns it over several times, holds
it up to the light and then taps a finger against the
lid of the tin. =Is hard.=
"ItТs inside." I shake my head, laughing. "You have to