"Dan Simmons - The River Styx Runs Upstream" - читать интересную книгу автора (Simmons Dan)

We could hear the slur of the voices and knew that Un-cle Will had been drinking
more. Simon put his finger to his lips. There was a silence.
"Les, think about just the money side of it. What's ... how much .. . it's twenty-five
percent of everything you have. For how many years, Les? Think of the kids. What'll
that do toтАФ
"It's done, Will."
We had never heard that tone from Father before. It was not argumentativeтАФthe way
it was when he and Un-cle Will used to argue politics late at night. It was not sad like
the time he talked to Simon and me after he had brought Mother home from the
hospital the first time. It was just final.
There was more talk. Uncle Will started shouting. Even the silences were angry. We
went to the kitchen to get a Coke. When we came back down the hallway, Uncle
Will almost ran over us in his rush to leave. The door slammed behind him. He never
entered our home again.


They brought Mother home just after dark. Simon and I were looking out the picture
window and we could feel the neighbors watching. Only Aunt Helen and a few of
our closest relatives had stayed. I felt Father's surprise when he saw the car. I don't
know what we'd been expectingтАФmaybe a long black hearse like the one that had
carried Mother to the cemetery that morning.
They drove up in a yellow Toyota. There were four men in the car with Mother.
Instead of dark suits like the one Father was wearing, they had on pastel,
short-sleeved shirts. One of the men got out of the car and offered his hand to
Mother.
I wanted to rush to the door and down the sidewalk to her, but Simon grabbed my
wrist and we stood back in the hallway while Father and the other grownups opened
the door.
They came up the sidewalk in the glow of the gaslight on the lawn. Mother was
between the two men, but they were not really helping her walk, just guiding her a
little. She wore the light blue dress she had bought at Scott's just before she got sick.
I had expected her to look all pale and waxyтАФlike when I peeked through the crack
in the bed-room door before the men from the funeral home came to take her body
awayтАФbut her face was flushed and healthy, almost sunburned.
When they stepped onto the front stoop, I could see that she was wearing a lot of
makeup. Mother never wore makeup. The two men also had pink cheeks. All three
of them had the same smile.
When they came into the house, I think we all took a step backтАФexcept for Father.
He put his hands on Moth-er's arms, looked at her a long time, and kissed her on the
cheek. I don't think she kissed him back. Her smile did not change. Tears were
running down Father's face. I felt embarrassed.
The Resurrectionists were saying something. Father and Aunt Helen nodded. Mother
just stood there, still smil-ing slightly, and looked politely at the yellow-shirted man
as he spoke and joked and patted Father on the back. Then it was our turn to hug
Mother. Aunt Helen moved Simon forward, and I was still hanging onto Simon's
hand. He kissed her on the cheek and quickly moved back to Fa-ther's side. I threw
my arms around her neck and kissed her on the lips. I had missed her.
Her skin wasn't cold. It was just different.
She was looking right at me. Baxter, our German shep-herd, began to whine and
scratch at the back door.