"Patricia A. McKillip - The House on Parchment Street" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKillip Patricia A)

"Yes."
"It is a tunnel," Aunt Catherine said wonderingly,
looking through over Carol's shoulder. She moved in after Carol; Uncle Harold followed them. The

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drilling had stopped; the tunnel was soundless, dark but for a tiny fan of light far ahead. Something
blotted the light from the cellar; Alexander slipped through behind them.
"Where is he? I can't seeтАФ" "Up there with the light."
The light shifted, pointed toward them as they came, and they stopped, blinking, at the edge of the fall of
stones. "Bruce," Uncle Harold said. "Move the light downward if you can, so we can see what we're
doing. Stay still." "Dad, it was the drillingтАФ" "I know," Uncle Harold said. "Alexander stopped them."
He reached Bruce and took the flashlight from him. Aunt Catherine knelt beside him. Uncle Harold
shifted a stone; Bruce's breath hissed sharply. "All right. Lie still. Catherine, call the hospital." An
ambulance came, and men maneuvered him through the hole and bore him away. Aunt Catherine and
Uncle Harold followed in the car. The siren wailed down Parchment Street like a banshee, and Emily
Raison came out, frightened and anxious, to find out what was wrong. Alexander explained. Carol stood,
staring at the half-finished drains. The men had gone; the street lay torn and empty in the late afternoon.
She wandered back into the yard. A breeze rustled through the half-cut hedge, stirred the dandelions. A
lump
burned dry in her throat; it would not go away.
"He's probably all right," Alexander said. "There weren't any stones on his head or his back. He was still
talking."
"They wouldn't let him walk out."
"They never do until they know what's wrong."
Carol sat down on the front step. Her head dropped onto her knees; she closed her eyes and saw again
the darkness of the tunnel. "Where were you, anyway? Why didn't you come?"
He dropped beside her, sighing. "Oh. I had a long conversation with Mrs. Brewster about flowers."
"Flowers?"
"Squashed flowers. The kind you get when five bicycles ride over them in your front lawn. She got it
into her head that I had something personal against her flowers, just because I happened to be riding a
bicycle. When she finally let me go, I rode to Sandy's house and had a long conversation with him about
flowers. I'm ten times bigger than he is, and he was nervous, but he'll probably do something malicious,
because he didn't like being lectured by me. But I was angry. And then I remembered what time it was.
Did you follow the girl?"
Carol nodded. She sat hunched over herself, holding her arms, and her throat tightened, hurting. She
swallowed. "She came, and she said 'Edward. Come,' and he came."
"Edward came?"
"Yes. He had a hat and a long cloak on, and he was carrying a candle. His hair was the same color as
hers." She swallowed again. Tears formed, hot and swollen, behind her eyes. "And we followed them.
And people followed usтАФmen with swords and helmetsтАФand they walked past us and they didn't see
us. So, the Puritan had gone in before Edward, and he was waiting in the tunnel in front of him, and the
men came in after him, and they all had swords and I thinkтАФI thinkтАФThe tunnel fell in before we could
see anything, but just before it fell, I could hear her screaming."
The wind rose, shivered through the leaves above the wall. Alexander stirred, drawing breath.
"They're all dead, you know. It happened centuries ago. There's no need to feel sad."
"That's the funny part. Bruce was trying to tell me about the light, but I didn't think it was important,
until today. When heтАФwhen the men in armor went by, and when Bruce pointed the flashlight at them,
the light reflected off the armor as ifтАФas if they were real in our century тАж or we were real in theirs."