"Madeline L' Engle - A Live Coal in the Sea" - читать интересную книгу автора (L'Engle Madeleine)

looked
at her watch. "It's nearly seven.
Raffi paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. "We have an hour."
"It's a long story, Raffi. It'll take more than an hour." "You can at least
start."
"You'll have to be patient with me."
How much to tell? How much of the truth was truth? Whose truth? Upside down?
Surely Taxi's truth would be rad
A Live Coal in the Sea┬╗15
ically different from Camilla's. But the beginning of the story . went much
further back, to long before Taxi was born.
Camilla was a senior in college. It was winter, and the bare branches of the
trees were stark against a snow-heavy sky. Camilla, walking across campus,
blinded by tears, crossed Elm Street and almost ran into a young man who was
coming out of a grey stone building with a blue door.
'Hey!'
'Oops! Sorry!' They spoke simultaneously.
He held out a hand to steady her. 'What's up? Can I help?' He took her firmly
by
the elbows and steered her along the path.
'Nothing,' she replied automatically. 'I'm sorry-' She choked on a sob.
He gave her a quick, appraising glance. 'You look half frozen, if nothing
else.
There's coffee within. Come along and I'll warm you up before you go on to
wherever you're going.'
Where was she going? Almost as though she were sleepwalking she followed him
in
through the blue door, along a long hall lined with doors to offices on
either
side, many of them with half doors opened at the top. He spoke casually to
several people, said to an older man in a turned-around collar, 'I'll be down
in
the kids' room for a few minutes if you want me for anything.' Then he led
Camilla down a flight of stairs, and into a big room made comfortable by a
rug,
a chintz-covered sofa, some shabby but comfortable chairs. There was one
picture
on the wall, a silk screen of a Rouault clown. It was a picture she knew and
liked. Through another open door she saw half a dozen cribs, and some small
round tables with low children's chairs.
Not caring who the young man was or where she was, she . struggled for
control.
He went through a door, calling out to someone, and returned with a mug of
coffee which steamed in
Madeleine L'Engle
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A Live Coal in the Sea
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the chilly room but smelled strong and stale. He put it in her automatically
outstretched hand, then sat cross-legged in a sagging armchair, a slight,