"Nixon, Joan Lowery - The Other Side Of Dark" - читать интересную книгу автора (Nixon Joan Lowery)

"I do!"
"Do you remember his name?"
I scrunch up my face. Trying to remember hurts. It aches. "It's in my head. It's like I can touch it. But it won't come close enough."
Brandi's eyes sparkle. "Think hard. Maybe all of a sudden it will all come back to you."
Donna interrupts. "I don't think we should even talk about it. Maybe it would be traumatic for Stacy to remember. We ought to leave it up to Dr. Peterson. Stacy is all that's important. The rest isn't."
I speak up. "It's important to me to know who that guy is. He killed my mother!"
Donna's arms are around me. "Shush, shush. It's okay, Stacy. Don't get upset."
"I hate him, Donna!"
"And you want to see him get what he deserves!" Brandi's eyes are bright.
"Yes!" The hollow inside me begins to fill, churning upward with boiling bubbles of anger, until there is nothing inside me but a burning red hatred for the man I saw, the killer, the murderer, the person who took my mother away from me.
Donna's cheek is against mine. She's holding me tightly. ЧStop!" she says to Brandi. "Please stop and get out of here. This isn't good for Stacy."
"Listen to her. She wants to remember."
"Go away!" Donna stands and takes a step toward Brandi.
"Okay," Brandi says. She climbs off the bed and smiles at Donna as though they were best friends. "I'm going. I'm gone." She fishes a business card from her pocket and hands it to me. "Thanks for the interview, Stacy. If you remember anything else about this guy who shot you, please give me a call Okay?"
I just nod and stuff the card into the pocket of my jeans.
Donna follows Brandi into the hall, and in a couple of minutes she comes back with Alice.
"Got a little excited, did we?" Alice asks. Before I can answer, she wraps a cuff around my left arm and takes my blood pressure. She beams at Donna and at me. "Very good. Nice and normal. No harm done."
"I still don't think they shouldЧ"
"The supervisor has a new secretary. She didn't knowЧ"
"Patients should have privacy, andЧ"
"I agree. I agree. Unfortunately they don't let nurses make the rules, althoughЧ"
I get to my feet, and the walls of the room lean a little to the left and then to the right. So I rest my head against the wall to steady it.
"Oh, Stacy," Donna says, and her arms are around me. I can feel the warm bulge of her belly against mine.
"Donna," I murmur against her hair, "I want to go home. Take me home."
"As soon as the doctor says so."
"Where is he?"
Alice gently pulls me away from Donna, leads me to the bed, and pats me into place. "Mrs. Montez is your physical therapist, Stacy. She'll be in soon. She wants to talk to you. Just be patient, honey. You'll be home in no time." Task accomplished, Alice rustles from the room.
I close my eyelids. The anger glows against them. "I wish I could see his face."
Donna leans over to kiss my forehead. She gives a little grunt as she bends, and I'm very much aware of the baby who is making her body so thick in the middle that it's hard for her to lean over the bed.
"I'm going to let you rest now," Donna says. "I have to get to class. I'll see you later."
Her face is close to mine, and I can see the tiny beads of perspiration that lie on her upper lip like a glistening mustache. "Donna," I say, grabbing her right hand and holding it tightly, "do you remember a couple of years ago when Mom was pregnant?"
"That was more than a couple of years ago, Stacy. You were only ten."
I groan. "TenЧwhenever. Oh, Donna, I was so excited about Mom's baby, and I'd rest my hand on her stomach and feel it kick. And when she lost it, it hurt so much it nearly killed me."
There are tears on Donna's cheeks. "I know. It hurt all of us."
I struggle to sit up and wrap my arms around her. "I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm so mixed up. I mean, I think about Mom having a baby, but not you. And now that you're grown-up and pregnant I can't get used to it. It's like you should be Mom and not Donna, and it makes me feel strange and faraway andЧoh, Donna, I don't even know how to tell you what's in my head."
But Donna soothes me, patting my back and nuzzling her cheek against mine. "It's okay, Stacy. It's okay. Calm down. Everything's not going to happen at once. It's going to take awhile for you to get things straight Don't punish yourself by trying to rush it. Just relax. Just take each day as it comes."
We hold each other without talking. The room is warm. The window spills sunlight onto the beige tile floor, and the voices in the hall hum in the background like contented bees. Donna is the big sister, the comforting one, yet the hurt we share is the same, and it flows between us. I can feel how much Donna misses Mom too. I begin to realize that there'd be questions she'd want to ask Mom, little scary sparks that Mom could pat out with a smile and a few words. There'd be the baby clothes to buy together, the excitement to share about the first grandchild.
As I close my eyes I see our screen door fly open. Someone runs out and pauses on the steps. He stares at me. He raises the gun and points it at me. But where is his face? For Donna, for me, I must see his facet
Donna leans back, holding my shoulders. "Are you all right now, Stacy?"
I nod. The storm blew away some of the clutter in my mind, and I found my sister. "Thanks, Donna."
"Whenever you need me, I'll be here," she says.
I pat her stomach and smile and answer, "Whenever you need me. I'll be here too."

Alice opens the door in a hurry, nimbly stepping back, saying, "Stacy, this is Mrs. Montez."
The physical therapist bursts past her into my room, leaning forward a little, breaking a path with her chin and the end of her nose. She's short and solid with clipped gray hair, and she's packed into a rose velour jogging suit. She checks the chart at the end of my bed, grins at it and then at me.
"All that good, regular exercise has paid off," she says. "Aren't we proud of ourselves!"
"I don't remember exercising," I tell her. "And I'm sorry, but I don't even remember you."
Her left hand chops at the air, as though she were cutting off something unnecessary. "Doesn't matter if you remember or not," she says. "What matters is that I kept you in good physical shape. Once you're over the temporary effects of your operation, you'll find yourself in fine condition, thanks to my care and skill."
Behind Mrs. Montez's back Alice winks at me.
"You may think this all sounds immodest," Mrs. Montez says, half turning to include Alice, who blinks and looks embarrassed, "but the body is like a machine that must stay fine-tuned in order to operate correctly. And keeping you in condition was my job." She beams again, looking so pleased with herself she reminds me of the Cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland.