"Geoff Ryman - Was" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ryman Geoff)

"Stop that!" quailed Aunty Em. It was a sound she could not stand.

Uncle Henry stomped in. "Em. What are you doing to the child?"

That was all it took. Aunty Em threw a towel at him. "I am trying to get
this child clean!" she shouted. "I guess we'll just have to leave it like that,
half-cut, until tomorrow. But it is going to be clean, at least." She worked
the soap up into a lather. "Keep your eyes closed," she told Dorothy.

The lather went into her hair and into her eyes and seemed to scald them,
worse than the water.

"I told you to keep them closed," said Aunty Em, as the battle started.
Dorothy was beyond thinking of anything at this point. She hit and kicked
and tried to clamber out of the bath.

"Hold her, Henry," said Aunty Em. Uncle Henry's hands, as rough as the
soap, grabbed Dorothy by the elbows. Aunty Em worked the hair. Dorothy's
eyes seemed to sizzle like eggs. Then suddenly she was pushed
underwater. She swallowed and coughed and came up coughing. They let
her go.

"I never saw the like," said Aunty Em. "Never!"

"She's still got lye soap in her eyes," said Henry. He clunked away and
came back.

"Put your face in this, Dorothy," he said.

"No," she whimpered.

"You got to wash the soap out."

"It hurts."

"Everything hurts," said Aunty Em.

"You got to."

Dorothy did as she was told. She put her face in the water and opened her
eyes. They stung like before. But maybe, maybe, they were a bit better as
well. Had she been good enough now? Would they leave her alone, now?

She opened her eyes, and everything was bleary, and they still stung
around the edges.

Aunty Em was opening her suitcase. "Now, Dorothy," she said. "You come
from a household with diphtheria. It killed your mama and your little
brother, and it will kill us too, you especially, if we don't get rid of it. So we