"Kim Stanley Robinson - Forty Signs of Rain" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robinson Kim Stanley)

 Now Joe was flying up and down on the bouncy bridgeтАЩs sweet spot. The sad little girl whose nanny
talked on the phone for hours at a time wandered in slow circles around the merry-go-round. Charlie
avoided meeting her eager eye, staring instead at the nanny and thinking it might be a good idea to stuff a
note into the girlтАЩs clothes:тАЬYour daughter wanders the Earth bored and lonely at age twoтАФSHAME!тАЭ

Whereas he was virtuous. That would have been the point of such a note, and so he never wrote it. He
was virtuous, but bored. No that wasnтАЩt really true. That was a disagreeable stereotype. He therefore
tried to focus and play with his second-born. It was truly unfair how much less parental attention the
second child got. With the first, although admittedly there was the huge Shock of Lost Adult Freedom to
recover from, there was also the deep absorption of watching oneтАЩs own offspringтАФa living human being
whose genes were a fifty-fifty mix of oneтАЩs own and oneтАЩs partnerтАЩs. It was frankly hard to believe that
any such process could actually work, but there the kid was, out walking the world in the temporary
guise of a kind of pet, a wordless little animal of surpassing fascination.

Whereas with the second one it was as they all said: just try to make sure they donтАЩt eat out of the catтАЩs
dish. Not always successful in JoeтАЩs case. But not to worry. They would survive. They might even
prosper. Meanwhile there was the newspaper to read.

But now here they were at the park, Joe and Dad, so might as well make the best of it. And it was true
that Joe was more fun to play with than Nick had been at that age. He would chase Charlie for hours,
ask to be chased, wrestle, fight, go down the slide and up the steps again like a perpetuum mobile. All
this in the middle of a D.C. May day, the air going for a triple-triple, the sun smashing down through the
wet air and diffusing until its light exploded out of a huge patch of the zenith. Sweaty gasping play, yes,
but never a moment spent coaxing. Never a dull moment.

After another such runaround they sprawled on the grass to eat lunch. Both of them liked this part. Fruit
juices, various baby foods carefully spooned out and inserted into JoeтАЩs baby-bird mouth, applesauce
likewise, a cheerio or two that he could choke down by himself. He was still mostly a breast-milk guy.

When they were done Joe struggled up to play again.

тАЬOh God Joe canтАЩt we rest a bit.тАЭ

тАЬNo!тАЭ

Ballasted by his meal, however, he staggered as if drunk. Naptime, as sudden as a blow to the head,
would soon fell him.

CharlieтАЩs phone beeped. He slipped in an earplug and let the cord dangle under his face, clicked it on.
тАЬHello.тАЭ

тАЬHi Charlie, where are you?тАЭ

тАЬHey Roy, IтАЩm at the park like always. WhatтАЩs up?тАЭ

тАЬWell, IтАЩve read your latest draft, and I was wondering if you could discuss some things in it now,
because we need to get it over to Senator WinstonтАЩs office so they can see whatтАЩs coming.тАЭ

тАЬIs that a good idea?тАЭ