"Christopher Pike - The Immortal" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pike Christopher)

CHRISTOPHER PIKE

He seemed to be scholarly in a way with alert green eyes and messy brown hair that the sun was swiftly
turning the color of the sand. He was thin but in good shape and stood remarkably straight, as if at
attention. I put his height at six feet, maybe an inch more. He was a couple of years older than we were.

"Tom, do you remember me?" Helen asked.

He scratched his head. "You're from America, right?"

"Yeah," Helen said, a little worried. The lifeguard on duty would have known we were from America.

"You were here last summer?" Tom continued.

"Yeah," Helen said.

Tom gave a sly smile. "You break into wicked Italian while in the heat of making passionate love?"

Helen hit him playfully. "That girl came earlier in the summer! I know you remember me. You look too
happy to see me."

Tom snapped his fingers suddenly. "Melon!"

"Helen!"

"We went out once," Tom said. It seemed to come to him all at once and give him pleasure.

"Twice." Helen leaned her elbows on the bar. I hadn't seen her so excited in a long time. "You had the
time of your life."

"Was I sober?" he asked.

"Most of the time," Helen said. "How have you been, Tom? Oh, this is my friend, Josie. Josie, meet Tom.
He's from England."

Tom was quick to shake my hand. He gave me the once-over but was subtle about it--I only knew from
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THE IMMORTAL

his eyes. His accent was a delight. I had always thought English accents sounded cultured.

"Josie," he said. "You are definitely from California and you definitely know Italian."
"Just the naughty words," I said.

He laughed and nodded to my beer. "How's your drink keeping?"

I took a gulp from the bottle--some German brew. "Great."