"Theodore Sturgeon - Shottle Bop" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sturgeon Theodore)

She hugged the elephant to her breast defensively, and whimpered, "W-where are you?"
Surprised, I said, "Right here in front of you, child. Can't you see me?"
She shook her head. "I'm scared. Who are you?"
"I'm not going to hurt you. I heard you crying, and I wanted to see if I could help you. Can't
see me at all?" "No," she whispered. "Are you an angel?"
I guffawed. "By no means!" I stepped closer and put my hand on her shoulder. The hand w
right through her and she winced and shrank away, uttering a little wordless cry. "I'm sorry," I s
quickly. "I didn't mean . . . you can't see me at all? I can see you."
She shook her head again. "I think you're a ghost," she said.
"Do tell!" I said. "And what are you?"
"I'm Ginny," she said. "I have to stay here, and I have no one to play with." She blinked,
there was a suspicion of further tears.
"Where did you come from?" I asked.
"I came here with my mother," she said. "We lived in lots of other rooming houses. Mot
cleaned floors in office buildings. But this is where I got so sick. I was sick a long time. Then
day I got off the bed and came over here, but then when I looked back I was still on the bed. It w
awful funny. Some men came and put the 'me' that was on the bed onto a stretcher-thing and to
itтАФme out. After a while Mummy left, too. She cried for a long time before she left, and whe
called to her she couldn't hear me. She never came back, and I just got to stay here."
тАЬWhy?тАЭ
"Oh, I got to. IтАФdon't know why. I just got to."
"What do you do here?"
"I just stay here and think about things. Once a lady lived here, had a little girl just like me.
used to play together until the lady watched us one day. She carried on somethin' awful. She s
her little girl was possessed. The girl kept call-in' me, 'Ginny! Ginny! Tell Mamma you're here!';
I tried, but the lady couldn't see me. Then the lady got scared an' picked up her little girl an' cr
an' so I was sorry. I ran over here an' hid, an' after a while the other little girl forgot about m
guess. They moved," she finished with pathetic finality.
I was touched. "What will become of you, Ginny?"
"I dunno," she said, and her voice was troubled. "I guess I'll just stay here and wait for Mum
to come back. I been here a long time. I guess I deserve it, too."
"Why, child?"
She looked guiltily at her shoes. "I couldn' stand feelin' so awful bad when I was sick. I got
out of bed before it was time. I shoulda stayed where I was. This is what I get for quittin'.
Mummy'll be back; just you see."
"Sure she will," I muttered. My throat felt tight. "You take it easy, kid. Any time you w
someone to talk to, you just pipe up, I'll talk to you any time I'm around."
She smiled, and it was a pretty thing to see. What a raw deal for a kid! I grabbed my hat
went out.
Outside things were the same as in the room to me. The hallways, the dusty stair carpets w
new garments of bril-liant, nearly intangible foliage. They were no longer dark, for each leaf had
own pale and different light. Once in a while I saw things not quite so pretty. There was a gigg
thing that scuttled back and forth on the third-floor landing. It was a little indistinct, but it looke
great deal like Barrelhead Brogan, a shanty-Irish bum who'd returned from a warehouse robber
year or so ago, only to shoot himself accidentally. With his own gun. I wasn't sorry.
Down on the first floor, on the bottom step, I saw two youngsters sitting. The girl had her h
on the boy's shoul-der, and he had his arms around her, and I could see the banister through th
I stopped to listen. There voices were faint, and seemed to come from a long way away.
He said, "There's one way out."
She said, "Don't talk that way, Tommy!"