"William Sleator - Interstellar Pig" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sleator William)

"I didn't feel like a fried egg. I felt like Tou-sha-pouтАФyou know, one of
those Chinese steamed dumplings, those sickly sweet ones, filled with hot
mashed prunes."

We were all laughing now. "Well, all I can is, thank God we had our game to
play," Zena said. "That was a truly capital round we had in that little car,
stifling and gemutlich as it was."

"Capital, because you won," Manny pointed out.

"I like games too," I said. "Maybe we could play sometime."

I was impressed and a little awed by their easy, high-spirited banter. They
could even have fun being stuck in a traffic jam. They seemed exotic, as
though English was not their native language. And strangely enough, they
really did seem interested in me. Maybe the second week of this vacation would
be better than the first.

"This tide chart seems to be closely accurate, as far as you can tell?" Joe
asked me.

"Yes," I said. "The tides are very extreme here, actually."

"Are they?" Joe asked me. "How so?"

"Well, at low tide, there's some areas where you ean walk and walk and walk,
and the water hardly jSver gets past your waist."
(f "Do you know quite where?" They all seemed Interested.

16

INTERSTELLAR PIG

INTERSTELLAR PIG

17

"Sure. I could show you. Tomorrow, maybe." I shrugged, and laughed
self-consciously. "I don't have a real heavy schedule here."

"We could make it a charming little expedition," Zena said.

"Yes. Studying all the biota of this enchanting region," Manny said.

"Is this your first time in New England?" I asked them.

"Uh . . . yes," Zena said.

"You must be from California then, right?" I went on. "Or Florida?" They
didn't answer. "I mean . . . you're so tanned."