"Mike Resnick - Marcia" - читать интересную книгу автора (Resnick Mike)

She begins to cry, and a warm glow suffuses me as I realize that I have brought tears of happiness to the
woman I love.
****

Wednesday, June 15

Today begins like all other days, with the unveiling, and proceeds like all the others, but somewhere
along the way something goes wrong, because when I get on the bus to go home Marcia is not on it.
Panic-stricken, I get off at the next block and begin back-tracking. I bump into people without noticing,
and twist my ankle painfully on a curb, but I continue and finally I find her.

She is sitting at a bar, and as I look in the window I see that she has a drink in her hand, but because of
my inexperience in such matters I cannot tell from the shape of the glass what kind of drink it is. The
place is not doing much business at this hour. There is a couple seated at a table, and three businessmen
are positioned at various spots along the bar, but that is enough.

I go into a drugstore across the street and look up the bar's number in the directory and dial it and ask
for Marcia. The bartender sounds surprised, but he calls her name and then I see him bring the phone
over to her.

тАЬMarcia,тАЭ I say harshly, тАЬthis can't go on.тАЭ

тАЬWho is this?тАЭ she says, her voice shaking.

тАЬYou can't keep exhibiting yourself like this,тАЭ I continue, тАЬflaunting your ass in front of those three men
like some kind of trollop. I won't stand for it.тАЭ

тАЬWhy can't you leave me alone?тАЭ she shrieks.

тАЬGet out of there at once or I'm going to be very cross with you,тАЭ I warn her and hang up the phone.

I watch her scream something into the receiver before she realizes the line is dead. Everyone turns and
stares at her and suddenly she throws a handful of money on the bar and walks out and summons a cab.

I must remember to tell her not to overtip bartenders in the future.
****

Thursday, June 16

Marcia doesn't get out of bed to take her shower this morning. I know she's not having her period and I
start to worry that she might be feeling under the weather, but then she jumps like she's had an electric
shock and stares at the phone, and I can tell by her attitude that it must be ringing and she is probably
afraid that I am still mad at her.

Once she gets to know me better she'll discover that I'm really a very warm and caring person who
almost never carries a grudge. I decide to call her and tell her that she is forgiven, but when the phone
rings she buries her head under a pillow and there is nothing more to watch except for a few trembling
lumps under the blanket. I decide to go to work without her.

All day long I wonder who would have been calling her at eight in the morning, and it puts me in a very