"Theodore Sturgeon - It's You" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sturgeon Theodore)

shirt with a scarf and ring attached to it. They were really cool and he liked
them but he said hell, he couldn't go to work in them, he'd look like a
peacock. She lay in the bed watching him with a say-you-like-them, pent-up joy
on her face.




She'd made them herself secretly whenever she could snatch the time when he
wasn't around, and kept hiding the pieces before he came back until they were
all done. So he said what she wanted to hear and he did wear them to work that
once, although he wore the medallion inside his shirt instead of outside. Sure
enough the crew gave him a rough time about it and when he came home he said
he'd save the bells and the paisley for parties, they were too good to risk at
work. And he got to the trash before they collected it and found his black
cords and Western shirt and put them away in the garage in a box with the rest
of his stuff still out there. He never knew why and nobody asked him but he
wore the medallion inside his shirt after that.

She made him three more pairs of pants and two more shirts, and they were
really great, but for parties. They'd go to parties, people shed known a long
time. They were okay parties. He never liked drinking much but he'd drink a
little sometimes and like it a little, and he could take pot or leave it
alone. Only sometimes after a party where he had laughed a lot, he would leave
with a strange feeling that he had just crossed a desert. It could be full of
people but there just wasn't anybody to talk to. One time he parked outside
one of the parties and there in the dark under a tree was a silver Excalibur.
He always said an Excalibur was a piece of candy, but secretly be thought it
was a whole big heap of wheels, and if anybody ever offered to swap him for
the Monster he'd keep the Monster, but be sure would think it over a lot. So
when they got inside he made it his business to find out who was driving it,
and he had his mouth all set to sit down and really talk, but it turned out to
belong to some rich chick whose daddy had given it to her for her eighteenth
birthday and she didn't know an axle from an ax handle. That one time he
really felt cheated and mad, and it was the first time he felt dead sure he
couldn't explain it and drove home too fast without talking and scared her a
bit, and wouldn't talk after they got home either.

Also she cut his hair. She could do that. She could do anything she tried, and
she did it well. It looked great. It was a lot different but it really did
look fine.

One night after some sex, and it really was the most, and she slipped off to
sleep in the way she had, he lay thinking about things and remembered
something about roll bars and anti-sways be had read somewhere, but couldn't
pin it down. He got up carefully and went out to the Monster and got the
flashlight and went into the garage and got out the boxes with the back issues
in them, and squatted there looking them over for so long his feet went numb
and the batteries quit. He sat there in the dark banging his heels against the
concrete to wake them up and you know something? he felt wonderful. He put