"Night Warriors - 02 - Death Dream" - читать интересную книгу автора (Masterton Graham)

He didn't realize as he lay there that he was sobbing out loud.
The nun held his hand tightly. 'I'm sorry,' she repeated. The way she said it, it sounded almost like an Ave Maria. 'I'm sorry.' 'Oh, God,' he wept. 'Oh, God.'
The nun leaned over the bed, rustling and white and smelling of soap. She brushed away his tears with a tissue, and then unexpectedly she kissed him on the forehead. 'Dr Freytag thinks that with one or maybe two more operations, you should be able to move your arms. And we have a wonderful physiotherapy unit here. You have life, Mr. Woods, think of that. And even the saddest life is full of possibilities.'
John opened his eyes. 'How - how long have I been -?' he asked. He was so miserable that his throat felt as if it were gripped by a tourniquet.
'Four days. They brought you in Friday morning, about four o'clock. It's Tuesday now.'
John lay for almost ten minutes in silence, trying to make sense of what had happened. His mind began to clear; and even though this was accompanied by the gradual worsening of a gripping pain in his back, he suffered the pain so that he could think straight.
...He remembered the scratching noise in the corridor outside the bedroom. He remembered opening the door. Instantly, something black and huge and powerful had raged into the room, ripping his chest open and crushing his pelvis. Then he had heard Jennifer screaming, and blood had spattered him like warm rain.
Then what? Lenny. He remembered Lenny. Just standing there, saying nothing.
'Save me, Lenny. Save me. Lenny, for God's sake.'
'Who's Lenny?' the nun asked.
John focused his eyes. He suddenly realized that he had been calling out loud.
'Lenny's my son. My son by my first wife.'
The nun said, 'Would you like me to call Mr. Felling and have him brought down here?'
John nodded. 'Yes, I'd like that. What time is it?'
'Almost lunchtime. Are you hungry?'
He glanced up at the dextrose drip that was hanging above the head of his bed. 'I think this'll do me for now. I'm feeling a little sick.' 'Any pain?' the nun asked.
'A sharp twinge in the back, that's all. It feels exactly like somebody's clamping my spine in a vise.'
The nun said, 'I'll find Dr Freytag and tell him you're awake.'
She went toward the door, but then she stopped, came back, and said, very gently, 'I'm sorry I had to tell you such terrible news. They teach us to be direct, you see, and to tell our patients the truth. There's no torture so bad as not knowing.'
'Yes,' said John.
To lose your lovely wife, though, and to suffer such injuries ...'
John was unable to speak. He was crying again. This time, the nun cried with him. She bent forward to hold him close, giving him the comfort of starched cotton and human warmth. 'Oh, my poor man, you've lost everything,' she cried. 'But God will help you; God will protect you.'
They clung together for a long time. At last John said, 'I'm okay now. Thanks. I'm going to be fine.'
'Well, if there's anything you want...'
'Who do I ask for?'
'Sister Perpetua. That's me. I'm always on duty at this time of day, and if I'm not, well, Sister Clare will help you just as well.'
'And you'd better call me John.'
Sister Perpetua smiled. 'John,' she said. "The best of names.'
John lay there and looked at her. She was no beauty, but her love and charity made up for that.
'God will be with you,' she said.
John shook his head. 'I don't think so.'
She touched his cheek with cool fingertips. "If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; even there shall Thy hand lead me, and Thy right hand shall hold me."
She turned and left, and he lay on his back staring at the ceiling and pouring out tears as if they would never stop.
Lenny came to see him at three o'clock. Grave, pale, wearing a gray cotton windbreaker that John had never seen before. He came into the room and stood with his hands in his pockets, looking at his father and biting his lip.
'Lenny?' said John hoarsely.
'Hullo, Dad,Т said Lenny.
'Sit down; you can pull up that chair over there. How are things?' Did Mr. Felling bring you down here?'
Lenny remained standing. 'Mr. Felling told me you won't be able to walk.'
John attempted a smile. 'Well, maybe I won't and maybe I will. We're going to have to see about that. I talked to my doctor today and he seems to think there's a chance. Not much of a chance, but a chance.'
'Daddy,' said Lenny, 'I'm real sorry about what happened.'
'Well, me too,Т John breathed.
Lenny came closer, and took hold of his father's hand. It was a strikingly adult gesture. 'You don't understand, I mean I'm sorry.'
'Listen, it wasn't your fault.'
'It was, Daddy. It was all my fault. I should have listened to that detective.'
John tried to lift his head, but couldn't. 'You mean that detective who was supposed to have said something to you but didn't?'
'You still don't believe me, do you?' Lenny protested.
John said, 'Forgive me. Will you forgive me? I'm more than a little crazy at the moment. Apart from that, they've given me every painkilling drug known to medical science. They could cut both my legs off and I wouldn't even notice.'
'He said I was one of them,' said Lenny.
John closed his eyes for a moment to calm himself down, then opened them again. 'Have you any idea what that means, "one of them"? When I was a kid, that used to mean that you were a faggot.'
'Detective Clay didn't mean that,Т Lenny replied. 'It means -1 don't know. I understand what it means, but I can't explain it.'