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

away the magazines in the boxes and then put away the boxes and limped back
into the house and to bed. He didn't think she knew.

He bought heavy-duty batteries first thing next day, and about a week later it
happened again just the same way. He didn't figure out what was happening-he
was not the figuring-out kind, maybe. But the third or fourth time it happened
he was kneeling in the middle of the concrete floor with a drag pictorial on
steam turbines down at the bottom of his tunnel of light when he heard
something. He switched off his flash and the color print of a bright red
three-wheel squirt, with the driver in prone position, faded from his eyes to
be replaced by her shadowy naked figure in the doorway.
He said, "Well, I didn't want you to wake up."
She said the only bitter thing she had ever said to him. She pointed at
his crotch and said, "You use that as a kind of sleeping pill for me, don't
you?" Then she went back inside.
He stayed to pack away the magazines and then followed. She seemed to be
asleep so he got in quietly and did not touch her. They did not talk about it
in the morning.

That night they went to another party, and no less than three cats told him at
different times how great his threads were. Well, she had good taste, she knew
what looked good. The party was beautiful people and two guitars and a side
table full of things made of rice and a lot of different kinds of cheese and
wine-a desert. When they got home she went to bed and he went into the
bathroom to get rid of the desert inside and out, and a terrible thing
happened to him. He looked into the mirror and did not know who that was in
there.

I mean it was a great haircut and the guru-style collar on the cotton-satin
shirt-jacket was so well-cut it did not look freaky, and then there were the
deep-buffed reversed-calf boots, like suede so nappy it was almost fur. But
none of it was him, nothing he remembered, nothing he ever thought about when
he thought Me. A terrible thing.

He took off all the clothes and hung them up and put them and the shoes away.
Then he took off the medallion and put it on the TV and went to bed and right
to sleep.

She was up ahead of him as usual and breakfast was ready. He went out into the
garage naked and found his black cords and the Western shirt with the rawhide
on the pockets, and his old lineman's boots, and put them all on. He came in
and ate. While he was eating she told him she had done everything in the world
to make him happy. He agreed that she had and said it had all been great.

It was Saturday and he hopped in the Monster and went down to the Rents. He
felt very strange, holding something inside of himself locked down tight,
knowing it was no good to let it all out because he couldn't explain it to
anybody if he did. They remembered him all right and got the 6-by-l0 hitched
on and the mirror mounted in half the time. He drove back to the house and up
the driveway to the garage and loaded all his stuff into the trailer. It