"Nagle, Patti - Coyote Ugly" - читать интересную книгу автора (Nagle Pati)

Slowing to a walk as the gallery came into view, Eva saw Joe staring at its
locked door. She closed her parched mouth and breathed the crisp air through
flaring nostrils. Joe turned and saw her.

"They're gone," she called, and in the same moment Joe sprang from the porch and
dashed up the street. With a cry Eva followed, slowing by the gallery door just
long enough to recognize Mrs. Rougier's handwriting on the note taped to it. Joe
turned north again between two buildings, making for Fort Marcy.

Breathing hurt now and Eva focused on continuing to move. She crossed streets
choked with people and got soft dirt in her shoes in rough alleyways.
Occasionally she remembered to look for Joe. She spotted him twice; they were
moving across the tide of people heading for the park's gates. Across the
arroyo, uphill skirting a gently eroding bank, and suddenly Eva was above the
park and Zozobra loomed before her, the huge white-robed figure with its black
bow tie and buttons, dwarfing the nearby buildings, standing still in the
darkness like an actor waiting for his cue while tiny mariachis warbled at his
feet. Beneath him the park teemed with people -- no lazy rooftop picnics now.
People crammed through the gates, shouldering each other for a view.

Eva stopped, panting. Her head throbbed and her legs were shaking. She looked
around for Joe. The mariachis flourished to an end and the sea of people below
her applauded, yelling and whistling over the unintelligible announcer's voice
that boomed through speakers and echoed off the hillside.

From her vantage point Eva could see tiny figures moving forward to positions
behind Zozobra, ready to work the cables that moved his arms and head. She
searched for her brother among them. Then she spotted a pale gleam against
denim; Coyote's head peeking from beneath Joe's arm. Joe was scanning the crowd
below, searching the picnic cloths which were the only spaces not totally
covered with bodies. Eva began to work her way toward him.

Small white-sheeted torch bearers filed across the platform and down the steps,
performing their traditional opening dance. A part of Eva responded, remembered
excitement and anticipation awakened as the drums began their slow heavy
pounding and Zozobra uttered his first low moan. She dragged her mind back to
her brother and hurried forward. Joe had climbed down the hillside heading for
the park. Eva scrambled after him, puffs of dust kicked up from soft caliche.
She kept his bobbing head in sight; the only face not turned toward Zozobra. He
had reached the fence and was starting to climb it. Eva began to run, but
stopped as a policeman accosted Joe from the other side of the fence. Joe
dropped to the ground, started back up the hill at an angle. Eva scrambled
after.

A flash of light and a roaring cheer announced the entrance of the Fire Dancer.
From the corner of her eye Eva glimpsed silver and red flying ribbons, but she
kept her attention on Joe and caught up with him halfway up the hill. She
grabbed his arm.

"Get off!" he yelled, still climbing up the hill, dragging her with him.