"Michael Swanwick - Walking Out" - читать интересную книгу автора (Swanwick Michael)

WALKING OUT
Michael Swanwick

Terry Bissel woke up one morning knowing he had to get out of the city.
Take a jitney up Broadway and keep on going forever. Travel so far and so
fast that if someone were to shine a flashlight after him, by the time the
beam caught up it would've dissipated to nothingness. "I don't want to live
here anymore," he said aloud without opening his eyes. It was true. For a
long time he lay motionless, simply savoring the thought. A strange elation
dawned within him. "I want to live in the country."
His wife was in the kitchen, humming to herself. The blender growled
briefly. She was grinding beans for coffee. There was the sizzle of eggs and
ham in the skillet. Kris was a lark. Eight months pregnant, and she still
got up first.
He pulled on his slacks and rolled up the futon. In the doorway, he
paused briefly to watch Kris waft lightly from sink to counter. Then he
said, "Let's move to New England."
Kris stood very still at the counter. She didn't turn around.
"C'mon, babe, you know you hate it here. Too much noise, too many
people, hardly enough room to fucking turn around in. I want to live in
ConnecticutтАФno, Vermont! I want a big, rambling house where you can
see meadows out the kitchen window and woods beyond them. And
mountains! Snow in the winter and fresh apples in the fall. I want the kind
of place where sometimes you get up before dawn to watch the deer
crossing the lawn."
"Terry," Kris said warningly.
Down on the street, the recyclers were rattling the bins of cans and
bottles, slamming bales of paper and bags of digestibles into the various
bellies of their truck. They were in a good mood, to judge by the loud,
yakyakking sound of their voices. "Yo, Nee-C! You still seeing that old fool,
Benjy?" And: "He got better stuff than you do, Maaaalcolm." And: "You
don't know till you try, babe! I got stuff I ain't never used." The crew were
laughing uproariously at this exchange. "I heard that," said the woman.
"Fact is, I heard you ain't had the opportunity to use none of it!"
 "Listen to that." Terry snorted. "That's exactly the kind of crap I'm
talking about. HeyтАФyou ever seen a moose?"
"No."
"I did once when I was young. My folks took us kids to this little
bed-and-breakfast outside of Montpelier andтАФhey, the woman that runs it
must be getting pretty old by now. Maybe she'd like to sell. What do you
think? Wanna run a B and B? It couldn't hurt to ask."
Kris whirled abruptly. "We need more coffee," she said in a choked
voice, "We're out."
"I thought I heard the grinder."
"That was . . . decaffeinated. I put it in by accident." With harsh,
choppy motions, she unscrewed the grinder and slammed its contents into
the disposal. "Go across the street, why don't you, and get us some beans?"
"You're the boss." He grabbed up Kris in both arms, lifted her to the
ceiling and whirled her around. "You and the little Creature from the
Black Lagoon." He kissed her belly, set her down, and ducked into the