"Barry N. Malzberg - Jobs Partner" - читать интересную книгу автора (Malzberg Barry N)

"I saw -- saw -- "

No! Never to tell! She tore herself from the room. Down, down the hall, to the
bathroom, the buzzing laughter pursuing her like an army of wasps. Flushing,
flushing, till Janie Edwards -- Teacher's Pet and Goody Two Shoes of the First
Order -- came to fetch her with her smirk and her swishing skirts.

"This is what you always wanted, isn't it?" the Tall One was saying.

She closed her eyes again.

Grandmother on the couch, the giant photo album spread across her lap like an
ancient shawl, the numbers glowing darkly on her wrinkled white arm. "See? That
young girl?" A smiling face, little crinkles of merriment around the eyes, arm
lifted in greeting to a joyous future. "That was me, before." And the tears,
watering the picture, blurring and obliterating the face of hope and promise
that was soon to be scarred by coals and ashes, the arm uplifted, soon to be
stamped, branded with the eternal pain. "I held on because someday, there would
be you -- Judith. The Future."

And what was the Future? If the past ended in the charting heat of the oven, the
future must begin in the warmth of the womb. Her womb.

And so the dream. Of conception, birth, growth -- a passage of everlasting
safety: Redemption.

A vision locked away, still. Locked through girlhood, through the little games
and prattles of the others in the playground; through budding womanhood, the
mysterious and wondrous preparations her body was making for inviting and
welcoming that Ultimate Child into the world; through courtship with Al. Dear
Al. Nice enough, to be sure. He stopped the car to take a hurt puppy to the
animal hospital; he diligently wrote checks to the American Cancer Society and
to the U.J.A. He climbed on top of her twice a week, whispering kind words in
her ear. But once -- only once -- did she dare, timidly, with trepidation and
prayer, to ask -- Is this enough? Isn't there more, a Final and Ultimate
purpose? And Al's blankness. "We're here. Isn't that enough?"

Only once, that is, until the arrival of the Beings. "Don't you see them, Al?"
she pleaded. "Three. There. Over there. The Tall One's in the middle, he's sort
of flanked by two shorter ones." First blank-faced stares, a mild suggestion to
get more sleep, maybe the pregnancy? --Then That Look. Gazing at the floor,
shifting of feet, twitching of lips, eyes half-mast. Then recoil, horror. Then
the trek, the endless trek to doctors, the mutterings and deliberations about
medications and dosages, the inane questions ("When were you toilet trained?"
"How did you relate to your peer group?"). The talk of shock treatment, how it
would affect a growing fetus. The decision, finally, as she held firm to her
Vision: maybe a few days here, safely locked away, would be enough to bring her
to her senses. If not -- then afterwards -- well, the medicines, the shock,
think of all the avenues available.