"George R. R. Martin - WC 1 - Wild Cards" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin George R R)

was an RAF officer at one of the bases in England. He said he usually didn't do
this sort of thing, that he was just another airman. I told him I wouldn't tell
anyone. I'd searched high and low to find a copy, and he knew that, though."
"This other one's got more of a story behind it. I was coming back near dusk,
escorting some crippled B-17s. I looked up and saw two German night fighters
coming in, probably setting up patrol, trying to catch some Lancasters before
they went out over the Channel."
"To make a long story short, I shot down both of them; they packed in near a
small village. But I had run out of fuel and had to set down. Saw a pretty flat
sheep pasture with a lake at the far end of it, and went in. When I climbed out
of the cockpit, I saw a lady and a sheepdog standing at the edge of the field.
She had a shotgun. When she got close enough to see the engines and the decals,
she said, "Good shooting! Won't you come in for a bite of supper and to use the
telephone to call Fighter Command?" We could see the two ME-110s burning in the
distance. `You're the very famous Jetboy.' she said, 'We have followed your
exploits in the Sawrey paper. I'm Mrs. Heelis.' She held out her hand."
"I shook it. `Mrs. William Heelis? And this is Sawrey?' 'Yes,' she said."
"'You're Beatrix Potter!' I said."
"'I suppose I am,' she said."
"Belinda, she was this stout old lady in a raggedy sweater and a plain old
dress. But when she smiled, I swear, all of England lit up!"
Belinda opened the book. On the flyleaf was written
To Jetboy's American Friend, Belinda,
from Mrs. William Heelis ("Beatrix Potter")
12 April 1943


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Jetboy drank the coffee Belinda made for him. "Where are your friends?" he
asked.
"Well, he they should have been here by now. I was thinking of going down the
hall to the phone and trying to call them. I can change, and we can sit around
and talk about old times. I really can call."
"No," said Jetboy "Tell you what. I'll call you later on in the week; we can get
together some night when you're not busy. That would be fun."
"Sure would." Jetboy got up to go.
"Thank you for the books, Bobby. They mean a lot to me, they really do."
"It's real good to see you again, Bee."
Thirty Minutes Over Broadway!
"Nobody's called me that since the orphanage. Call me real soon, will you?"
"Sure will." He leaned down and kissed her again.
He walked to the stairs. As he was going down, a guy in a modified zoot
suit-pegged pants, long coat, watch chain, bow tie the size of a coat hanger,
hair slicked back, reeking of Brylcreem and Old Spice-went up the stairs two at
a time, whistling "It Ain't the Meat, It's the Motion."
Jetboy heard him knocking at Belinda's door. Outside, it had begun to rain.
"Great. Just like in a movie," said Jetboy.
The next night was quiet as a graveyard.