"Richard Matheson - What Dreams May Come" - читать интересную книгу автора (Matheson Richard)

No answer to my call. I looked around the kitchen, seeing that the coffee maker was on, its pair
of red bulbs burning.

The glass pot on the heater plate was almost empty. I managed a smile. She's done it again, I
thought. In no time, the house would be perтАФp-e-r-me-at-ed with a reek of burning coffee. I
reached out to pull the plug, forgetting. My hand went through the wire and I stiffened, then
forced back amusement. You can't do anything right in dreams, I reminded myself.

I searched the house. Our bedroom and the bathroom, lan's and Marie's rooms, their connecting
bathroom. Richard's room. I ignored the blurring of my vision. That was unimportant, I decided.

What I found myself unable to ignore was an increasing lethargy I felt. Dream or not, my body felt
like stone. I went back inside our bedroom and sat on my side of the bed. I felt a twinge of
uneasiness because it didn't shift beneath me; it's a water bed. Forget it, a dream's a dream, I
told myself. They're insane, that's all.

I looked at my clock-radio, leaning close to see the hands and numbers. It was six fifty-three. I
looked out through the glass door. It wasn't dark outside. Misty but not dark. Yet how could it be
morning if the house was empty? At this time, they should all be in their beds.

"Never mind,'' I said, struggling to get it all together in my mind. You're being operated on.
You're dreaming this. Ann and the children are at the hospital waiting forтАФ

A new confusion struck me. Was I really in the hospital? Or had that been part of the dream too?
Was I actually asleep on this bed, dreaming everything? Maybe the accident had never occurred.
There were so many possibilities, each one affecting the next. If only I could think more clearly.
But my mind felt numb. As though I'd been drinking or taken sedation.

I lay down on the bed and closed my eyes. It was the only thing to do; I knew that much.
Presently, I'd wake up with the truth: a dream in the hospital while under anesthesia or a dream
in my bed while asleep. I hoped it was the latter.

Because, in that case, I'd wake up to find Ann lying by my side and could tell her what a crazy
dream I'd had. Hold her lovely warmth in my arms and kiss her tenderly and laugh as I told her how
bizarre it is to dream of dreaming.

This black, unending nightmare

I WAS EXHAUSTED but I couldn't rest, my sleep broken by Ann's crying. I tried to rise, to comfort
her. Instead, I hovered in a limbo between darkness and light. Don't cry, I heard myself murmur.
I'll wake up soon and be with you. Just let me sleep a while. Please don't cry; it's all right,
sweetheart. I'll take care of you.

Finally, I was forced to open my eyes. I wasn't lying down but standing in a mist. I started
walking slowly toward the sound of her crying. I was tired, Robert, groggy. But I couldn't let her
cry. I had to find out what was wrong and end it so she wouldn't cry like that. I couldn't bear to
hear her cry like that.