"Nancy Kress - The Price of Oranges" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kress Nancy)

trails across the senseless surface?' Does that sound like a happy woman?"
"Hoo boy," Manny said. "It's all like that. 'Don't read my things,
Popsy,' she says. 'You're not in the audience for my things.' Then she smiles
without ever once showing her teeth." Harry flung both arms wide. "Who else
should be in the audience but her own grandfather?"
Manny swallowed the last of the strudel. Pigeons fluttered angrily.
"She never shows her teeth when she smiles? Never?"
"Never."
"Hoo boy," Manny said. "Did you want all of that orange?"
"No, I brought it for you, to take home. But did you finish that whole
half a sandwich already?"
"I thought I'd take it home," Manny said humbly. He showed Harry the
tip of the sandwich, wrapped in the thick brown butcher paper, protruding from
the pocket of his old coat.
Harry nodded approvingly. "Good, good. Take the orange, too. I brought
it for you."
Manny took the orange. Three teenagers carrying huge shrieking radios
sauntered past. Manny started to put his hands over his ears, received a look
of dangerous contempt from the teenager with green hair, and put his hands on
his lap. The kid tossed an empty beer bottle onto the pavement before their
feet. It shattered. Harry scowled fiercely but Manny stared straight ahead.
When the cacophony had passed, Manny said, "Thank you for the orange. Fruit,
it costs so much this time of year."
Harry still scowled. "Not in 1937."
"Don't start that again, Harry."
Harry said sadly, "Why won't you ever believe me? Could I afford to
bring all this food if I got it at 1989 prices? Could I afford this coat? Have
you seen buttons like this in 1989, on a new coat? Have you seen sandwiches
wrapped in that kind of paper since we were young? Have you? Why won't you
believe me?"
Manny slowly peeled his orange. The rind was pale, and the orange had
seeds. "Harry. Don't start."
"But why won't you just come to my room and _see?"_
Manny sectioned the orange. "Your room. A cheap furnished room in a
Social Security hotel. Why should I go? I know what will be there. What will
be there is the same thing in my room. A bed, a chair, a table, a hot plate,
some cans of food. Better I should meet you here in the park, get at least a
little fresh air." He looked at Harry meekly, the orange clutched in one hand.
"Don't misunderstand. It's not from a lack of friendship I say this. You're
good to me, you're the best friend I have. You bring me things from a great
deli, you talk to me, you share with me the family I don't have. It's enough,
Harry. It's more than enough. I don't need to see where you live like I live."
Harry gave it up. There were moods, times, when it was just impossible
to budge Manny. He dug in, and in he stayed. "Eat your orange."
"It's a good orange. So tell me more about Jackie."
"Jackie." Harry shook his head. Two kids on bikes tore along the path.
One of them swerved towards Manny and snatched the orange from his hand. "Aw
riggghhhtttt!"
Harry scowled after the child. It had been a girl. Manny just wiped the
orange juice off his fingers onto the knee of his pants. "Is everything she