"Pohl, Frederik - Best of Frederik Pohl" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pohl Frederick)

The Community Center was a big yellow-brick recreation hail; it had swimming pools and pingpong tables and all kinds of odds and ends to keep the kids off the streets. It was that kind of a neighborhood. It also had a meeting hall in the basement, and there were the Hargreaves, all of them, along with a couple of dozen other people. None of them were young, except the Hargreave girls. The hall had a dusty, storeroom quality to it, as though it wasn't used much-and in fact, I saw, it still had a small Christmas tree standing in it. Whatever else they had, they did not have a very efficient cleanup squad.
I came to the door to the hall and stood there, looking around. Someone was playing a piano, and they were having a singing party. The music sounded familiar, but I couldn't recognize the words- Adeste fideles, Laeti triumphantes. Venite, venite in Bethlehem.

The girls were sitting together, in the front row; their father wasn't with them, but I saw why. He was standing at a little lectern in the front of the hall.

Natum videte, regem angelorum.
Venite adoremus, venite adoremus-- I recognized the tune then; it was a slow, draggy-beat steal from
that old-time favorite, Christmas-Tree Mambo. It didn't sound too
bad, though, as they finished with a big major chord from the piano and all fifteen or twenty voices going. Then Hargreave started to talk.
I didn't listen. I was too busy watching the back of Lilymary's head. I've always had pretty low psi, though, and she didn't turn around.
Something was bothering me. There was a sort of glow from up front. I took my eyes off Lilymary's blond head, and there was Dr. Hargreave, radiant; I blinked and looked again, and it was not so radiant. A trick of the light, coming through the basement windows onto his own blond hair, I suppose, but it gave me a curious feeling for a moment. I must have moved, because he caught sight of me. He stumbled over a word, but then he went on. But that was enough. After a moment Lilymary's head turned, and her eyes met mine.
She knew I was there. I backed away from the door and sat down on the steps coming down from the entrance.
Sooner or later she would be out.

It wasn't long at all. She came toward me with a question in her eye. She was all by herself; inside the hail, her father was still talking.
I stood up straight and said it all. "Lilymary," I said, "I can't help it, I want to marry you. I've done everything wrong, but I didn't mean to. I-I don't even want it conditional, Lilymary, I want it for life. Here or Borneo, I don't care which. I only care about one thing, and that's you." It was funny-I was trying to tell her I loved her, and I was standing stiff and awkward, talking in about the same tone of voice I'd use to tell a stock boy he was fired.
But she understood. I probably didn't have to say a word, she would have understood anyhow. She started to speak, and changed her mind, and started again, and finally got out, "What would you do in Borneo?" And then, so soft that I hardly knew I was hearing it, she added, "Dear."
Dear! It was like the first time Heinemann came in and called me "Department Head!" I felt nine feet tall.
I didn't answer her. I reached out and I kissed her, and it wasn't any wonder that I didn't know we weren't alone until I heard her father cough, not more than a yard away.
I jumped, but Lilymary turned and looked at him, perfectly calm. "You ought to be conducting the service, Father!" she scolded him.
He nodded his big fair head. "Doctor Mausner can pronounce the Benediction without me," he said. "I should be there but-well, He has plenty of things to forgive all of us already; one more isn't going to bother Him. Now, what's this?"
"George has asked me to marry him."
"And?"
She looked at me. "I-" she began, and stopped. I said, "I love her."
He looked at me too, and then he sighed. "George," he said after a moment, "I don't know what's right and what's wrong, for the first time in my life. Maybe I've been seffish when I asked Lilymary to go back with me and the girls. I didn't mean it that way, but I don't deny I wanted it. I don't know. But--" He smiled, and it was a big, warm smile. "But there's something I do know. I know Lilymary; and I can trust her to make up her own mind." He patted her lightly.
"I'll see you after the service," he said to me, and left us. Back in the hail, through the door he opened, I could hear all the voices going at once.
"Let's go inside and pray, George," said Lilymary, and her whole heart and soul was on her face as she looked at me, with love and anxiousness.
I only hesitated a moment. Pray? But it meant Lilymary, and that meant-well, everything.
So I went in. And we were all kneeling, and Lilymary coached me through the words; and I prayed. And, do you know?-I've never regretted it.

We Never Mention Aunt Nora


MARY LYNNE EDKIN brought the man home to meet her brother.
It was uncomfortable for everyone. Mary Lynne's brother Alden looked up from his chair. He snapped his fingers and the sound on the trivision obediently diminished to a merely obtrusive level.
He held out his hand. "Pleased to meet you," he said, but it was obviously a lie.
Mary Lynne got that expression on her face.
"Al," she said dangerously.
Her brother shrugged and snapped his fingers twice more. The set shut itself off.
Mary Lynne's expression cleared. She was not a pretty girl, but she was a pleasant-looking one. The no-midriff fashion was kind to her; she still had a nice figure.
"Al," she said, but smiling now, "Al, guess what! Jimmy and I want to get married!"
"Oh-ho," said her brother, and he stood up in order to take a better look.
Even standing, he had to look up at this man James Croy. Croy was big. Six feet ten or eleven at the least, and his hair was snow white. Still, thought Alden Edkin, the man's face didn't look old. Maybe he was platinum blond. Al snorted, for he didn't hold with men dyeing their hair, common though the practice was.
He asked accusingly, "How come 1 never met him before?"
"Now, Al-"
~'How come?"
Mary Lynne blushed. "Well, Al, there hasn't been much chance for you to meet."
"Oh-ho," said her brother again. "You just met him yourself."
"But I love him, Al!" cried Mary Lynne, clutching at the tall man's ann. 'He's-he-oh, I can't explain it. But I love him!"
"Sure you do," said her brother. "You love him. But what do you know about him?"