"Ian R. MacLeod - Papa" - читать интересную книгу автора (Macleod Ian R)

My ears catch a noise behind me. I turn. SaulтАЩs standing leaning in the kitchen doorway, his arms
folded, his head bowed. HeтАЩs been listening, too. And both my grandchildren look sad, almost as if
theyтАЩve heard all the things I havenтАЩt been able to tell them.
Now Saul comes and puts his arm around my shoulder. тАЬPoor Papa.тАЭ Agatha comes over too. I bury
my face into them, trembling a little. But life must go on, and I pull away. I donтАЩt want to spoil their visit
by crying. But I cry anyway. And they draw me back into their warmth, and the tears come sweet as
rain.
Then we sit together, and eat breakfast. I feel shaky and clean. For a few moments, the present
seems as real as the past.
тАЬThat car of yours,тАЭ Saul says, waving his fork, swapping subjects with the ease of youth. тАЬI was
thinking, Papa, do you know if thereтАЩs any way of getting another one?тАЭ
IтАЩm almost tempted to let him have the Ford. But then, what would that leave me with? тАЬThere used
to be huge dumps of them everywhere,тАЭ I say.
тАЬThen IтАЩll come back here to the island and get one, and get all that incredible stuff youтАЩve had done
in that workshop down in the port. I mean,тАЭ he chuckles, тАЬI donтАЩt want to have to stop for gas.тАЭ
Gas. When did I last buy gas? Years ago, for sure. Yet the old Ford still rattles along.
тАЬAnyway,тАЭ Agatha says, standing up, her plate empty although IтАЩve hardly even started on mine. тАЬIтАЩll
finish packing.тАЭ
I sit with Saul as he finishes his food, feeling hugely un-hungry, yet envying his gusto. He pushes the
plate back, glances around for some kitchen machine that isnтАЩt there to take it, then pulls a face.
тАЬPapa, I nearly forgot. I said IтАЩd fix that console of yours.тАЭ
I nod. The engaged flag that prevented him and Agatha getting through to me before they arrived must
still be on: the thing that stops people from ringing.
SaulтАЩs as good as his word. As Agatha sings some wordless melody in their room, he goes through
some of the simpler options on the console with me. I nod, trying hard to concentrate. And Hannah holds
her knees and smiles down at us from the photo on the wall. Saul doesnтАЩt seem to notice her gaze. IтАЩm
tempted to ask for his help with other things in the house. Ways to reprogram the mec-gardener and the
vacuum, ways to make the place feel more like my own. But I know that IтАЩll never remember his
instructions. All I really want is for him to stay talking to me for a few moments longer.
 тАЬSo youтАЩre okay about that, Papa?тАЭ
тАЬIтАЩm fine.тАЭ
He turns away and shouts, тАЬHey, Ag!тАЭ
After that, everything takes only a moment. Suddenly, theyтАЩre standing together in the hall, their bags
packed. Venice. Paris. New York. The Sea of Tranquillity. Ready to go.
тАЬWe thought weтАЩd walk down to the port, Papa. Just catch whatever ferry is going. ItтАЩs such a lovely
day.тАЭ
тАЬAnd thanks, Papa. Thanks for everything.тАЭ
тАЬYes.тАЭ
IтАЩm hugged first by one, then the other. After the tears before breakfast. I now feel astonishingly
dry-eyed.
тАЬWellтАжтАЭ
тАЬYesтАжтАЭ
I gaze at Saul and Agatha, my beautiful grandchildren. Still trying to take them in. The future stretches
before us and between us.
They open the door. They head off hand-in-hand down the cypressed road. тАЬBye, Papa. We love
you.тАЭ
I stand there, feeling the sunlight on my face. Watching them go. My front door starts to bleep. I
ignore it. In the shadow of my house, beside my old Ford, I see thereтАЩs a limp-winged flyer; Saul and
Agatha must have used it last night to get me home. I donтАЩt know how to work these things. I have no
idea how IтАЩll get rid of it.