"R. A. Lafferty - Melchisedek 02 - Tales of Midnight" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lafferty R A)

The other person with Charley's party was a talisman-child, and her
set Duffey to quaking in a pleasant terror. This was the daughter of Papa
Piccone, the incipient daughter-in-law of Monica and Patrick Stranahan, She
was the god-daughter of Beth Keegan, Duffey's old girl. She was Teresa
(Showboat) Piccone. She was as much a central creation of the Duffey Corpus
as Duffey's creations had these two foci.
Aw c'mon, no one can describe her more than to say that -- well, she
was sun-burned quicksilver. She was fire and ice and holy wine. She has been
described as 'dark and lithe and probably little.' Well, in her own setting
of the dazzling and larger-than-life people, she might have been called
little. But in the world itself she might not be. She was of fair size and
greatly compromised beauty. The compromising was done by her grimaces and
pleasantly ugly facial contortions. But if one could ever get her face to
stand still, then she had a thunderous beauty. And in no setting could she
ever be called quiet. She was -- No, no, not now, maybe not ever, not in
detail! It's dangerous.
"If her specifications were known, then some Magus other than Duffey
might make another one of her, and one was enough," said Patrick Stranahan.
"Oh my God, how one of her was enough!" Patrick loved his future
daughter-in-law. So did Duffey love Teresa. She was a blue-moon person, not
to be encountered more than once in a lifetime. Look at the others instead.
It was dangerous to look too long at Teresa. You'll get welders' eye-burns.
There are infra-red rays and other things coming out of that blue-light
phenomenon. Look at the others. Teresa was talking constantly. Duffey did
not hear her words. He heard only the cadence of her voice.
Duffey knew Patrick Stranahan well. Patrick used to come into the
Rounders' Club whthe he was still quite a young man, even before Duffey had
sold a piece of the club to Charley Murray. And Duffey had known Monica
Stranaan, the wife of Patrick, the sister of Charley, for a very long time.
He used to live to kiss her for the serenity she gave. She still gave it.
And Duffey had known Papa Piccone (he already had the name 'Papa
Piccone' when he was twenty-two years old: he seemed older) in the old, old
days. He was and was and would forever be till its destruction the
proprietor of the Star and Garter where everyone went for the shows when
they were young. Beth Erlenbaum, the ivory statuette, had used to work at
the Star and Garter, and she was kindred of the Piccone family. But Duffey
had never seen this Teresa Piccone before. And then she was gone suddenly,
and he wasn't sure that he had seen her at all.
"Oh, I hardly ever get a good look at her myself," said Piccone her
father.
 The men were talking. This might have been the same night, upstairs
after supper, when they had withdrawn to the trophy room for cigars and
brandy and Irish whisky. Or it might have been another night in the big club
room at Stranahan's house. It may even have been at Charley Murray's place.
Likely it was several of the nights of that week ran together, and
the men were talking about weighty subjects. Duffey and Bagby and Murray and
Stranahan were there, along with Piccone and Father McGuigan. Stein was
there part of the time, or one of the nights. And Finnegan may have been
there part of the time.
"We come to the crux, to the crossroads," Patrick Stranahan said.