"Patricia A. McKillip - Solstice Wood" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKillip Patricia A)

jerked. Coffee shot into the air, rained down on my hair and the
cat, who yowled indignantly and fled. I stared at the phone as it
rang again, not wanting to pick up, not wanting to know whatever
it was Gram wanted me to know.
At the second ring, I heard Madison stir on my couch-bed.
тАЬSyl?тАЭ
тАЬIтАЩm not answering that.тАЭ
He unburied his face, squinted at me. тАЬWhy not? You having a
clandestine affair?тАЭ
тАЬItтАЩs Gram.тАЭ
His head hit the pillow again on the third ring. тАЬIs not,тАЭ he
mumbled. тАЬTell him to leave a message and come back to bed.тАЭ
 тАЬI canтАЩt,тАЭ I said firmly, though his naked body was exerting some
serious magnetic pull. тАЬI have to go to the store and unpack a dozen
boxes of books.тАЭ
тАЬCome back for five minutes. Please? SheтАЩll leave a message.тАЭ
тАЬShe wonтАЩt.тАЭ It rang again. тАЬOnly the weak-minded babble their
business to inanimate objects.тАЭ
тАЬHah?тАЭ
тАЬShe says.тАЭ
It rang for the fifth time; I glowered at it, still not moving. I
could have shown her any number of fairy tales in which important
secrets imparted to a stone, to the moon, to a hole in the ground,
had rescued the runaway princess, or the youngest brother, or the
children lost in the wood. But Gram believed in fairies, not fairy
tales, and in her world magic and machines were equally suspect.
I picked up at the sixth ring. She would have hung up at the
seventh, before the machine started talking. So, in those strange
moments, thousands of miles apart, we had been locked in silent
argument, counting rings together.
тАЬSylvia,тАЭ she said, before I could say hello. тАЬI need you to come
home.тАЭ
She had needed me to come home for seven years. But I heard an
odd hollowness, a fragility in her foghorn voice that kept me from
offering her whatever was the most likely on my list of excuses:
canтАЩt leave my bookstore now, everyone on vacation, am
apartment-sitting, dog-sitting, fish-sitting, too busy this week, am
leaving the country this month, just signed a lease for another year,
IтАЩm sorry, Gram, IтАЩm not coming back.
тАЬWhat is it? Gram?тАЭ
тАЬItтАЩs your grandfather,тАЭ she said, with that unfamiliar wobble in
her deep, husky, imperious voice. тАЬHeтАЩs dead, Sylvia.тАЭ
My throat closed. I had to push to get a word out. тАЬHow?тАЭ
тАЬHe wandered out in the middle of the night and fell asleep under
the pear tree. I always knew he had a streak of Melior in
himтАФroaming through hill and dale and whatnot at any hour of
day or night. He didnтАЩt wake up. Hurley found him this morning
lying on the grass in his nightshirt.тАЭ
тАЬIтАЩm sorry, Gram,тАЭ I whispered. I heard Madison shift again, pull
himself upright to listen.