"Thompson, Jim - Criminal, The" - читать интересную книгу автора (Thompson Jim)

"I asked you if you'd seen Jo--"
"The cat's got his tongue, Fay," I laughed. "He always gets that way whenever anyone mentions Josie. He saw her all right. I just got through asking him myself."
"Aren't kids funny?" Fay laughed, too. "Well, I guess she'll be along pretty soon. It's still early yet."
Bob and I went on home. I knew he must be half-starved, so I told him to run up and wash real quick and I'd fix him a sandwich and a glass of milk. -
"I'm not very hungry," he said. "I'd just as soon wait until dinner time. I--I think I'll take a bath, Mom."
"Bath?" I said. "Are my ears deceiving me? You're going to take a bath without being. . . Bob," I said, "come here a minute. What's that--what in the world have you got on the front of your pants?"
"Nothin'," he mumbled, kind of putting his hands in front of himself. "I just, well, I was straddling a fence on the way to the golf course, and I guess I must have scratched myself a little."
"Well, I should think you did!" I said. "Now, those pants will have to go to the cleaners and you've probably got blood all over your underwear, and--"
It was just too much for one day. You know, a person can just take so much and that's all they can take. I sat down on the lounge and began to bawl.
"Please, Mom," he said. "I'm sorry, and I p-promise I won't--"
"Oh, go on," I said. "Go on and get your bath, and be sure you soak good and use plenty of hot water. We'll be lucky if you don't get lockjaw."
He went on up the stairs and pretty soon I heard water running in the tub. I closed my eyes and lay back, listening to it, and it was kind of peaceful, and I guess I must have been extremely tired because the first thing I knew I'd gone to sleep. I mean, I didn't know it when I went to sleep, of course, but when I woke up I knew I'd been asleep.
It was practically dark, I'd been asleep for more than two hours.
I could hear Bob moving around in the bathroom; he was still up there after all this time. And that was all wrong, of course: you'd have to know Bob to know how crazy it was. But there was something else wrong, too.
I could feel it inside of me, and it made me all sick and kind of shaky. I went to the door--it was like something was drawing me to it--and stepped out on the porch.
Fay Eddleman was out on her walk, and Jack, her husband, was there, too. He had his arms around her, and you couldn't see her face, just his, and it was as white as a sheet. He looked as sick as I felt. There were a couple of other men standing off a little to one side, policemen I guessed, though they didn't have on uniforms. And there was a police car drawn up at the curb. I thought, now, what in the world, but I didn't really wonder. Somehow I knew what was wrong, not exactly, you know, but close enough. I stood and looked at them, and finally I made myself look away. I turned and looked up the street, and I saw Al coming.
He was walking so slow, like he hated every step he took, so I guess he must have known, too.
One of the policemen said something to Jack, and he glanced up and nodded. Then, they started down the walk toward Al.

5 Robert Talbert
I don't know why. Why does everyone always want to know why, anyway? Gosh, if you always stop to wonder why every time you turn around you never get anything done. All I know is that I wanted to buy him a present, so instead of going on to school I cut back to the canyon and started for the golf course. That was all there was to it.
I went down the side of the canyon, and walked up that little creek that runs right through the center of it until I came to the railroad trestle. Then, I reached up and got ahold of a brace and started to swing across. Well, it wasn't my fault because, heck, I reckon I must have done the same thing a hundred times, and I bet I could do it in my sleep if I had to. But some way or another--well, maybe the dew had made it slick--my hand slipped; and I threw myself back real fast, but one foot went into the water clear up to my ankle.
Well, I kind of cussed, and then I laughed about it, because the way I was feeling, it would take a lot more than that to make me sore. Dad had been so nice and everything, and I was going to buy him a nice little present. And if everything went all right, well, I'd kind of have a little talk with him like we'd used to have. I'd get all the load off my mind about laying out of school and everything else I'd been doing, and he'd say, well, son, it's never too late to turn over a new leaf and I know you're going to do better from now on, and. . . Well, that's the way it would be. I could get out from under that load, and, boy, it was a load!
I took my shoe off, and shook the water out of it. Then, I wrung my sock out and hung it up on a bush to dry. I had plenty of time. I could make it to the golf course in an hour, easy; get in twenty-seven or maybe thirty-six holes if I got the breaks.
I hoped this wouldn't be one of those crummy days when there were maybe eighty-four caddies for every bag, and I thought, by gosh, it better not be. Not today, by golly. But I was feeling too good to worry about it.
I lay back on my back with my eyes closed, kind of daydreaming about how I was going to do and how things were going to be from now on. And I thought I heard something behind me, a kind of rustling and a twig cracking now and then, but I didn't pay any attention to it. I didn't have any idea she was within a million miles of me until she started running her fingers through my hair.
I jumped and sat up. She laughed, her head kind of cocked on one side. She was right up against me, almost; stooped down on her knees. I had to move away before I could sit up good.
"What the heck are you doing here?" I said. "Why aren't you in school?"
"I've got a cold," she said. "Why aren't _you_ in school?"
"I suppose you're going to tell," I said. "Well, go ahead and see if I care."
"Huh-uh." She shook her head. "I wouldn't tell on you, Bobbie, no matter what you did."
"Well, go ahead," I said. "It don't make any difference to me what you do."
I reached up and got my sock off the bush. It felt pretty dry, so I started to put it on. She took it out of my hand-- not snatching, or anything, but just sort of gentle and natural like--and hung it back up again.
"You want to catch cold, mmm?" she said. "Now, you just leave that right there until I tell you to put it on."
"Aw, heck," I said. "What do you care? Who asked you to come down here tellin' me what to do?"
"Well, it's a very good thing for you, I did," she said. "You certainly need someone to look after you."
I said she was crazy, just about a hundred times crazier'n any two people in the whole world. "I'll bet your mother doesn't know where you are. I'll bet you slipped off without telling her anything."
"I'll bet she doesn't know I copped her cigarettes, either," she nodded. "You want a cigarette, Bobbie?"
She had on some kind of funny looking shorts, not real short, you know, but the kind girls wear to ride bicydes and stuff like that. She had on that--them--and one of those tight goofy-looking blouses like her mother's always wearing, and a little button-up sweater that was kind of like her mother's, too. She had the sweater hung around her shoulders, instead of wearing it like anyone with some sense would, and the sleeves kept getting in the way when she tried to get the cigarettes and matches out of her blouse pockets.
"Well, Bobbie!" she said, finally, kind of pouting like it was my fault. "Aren't you going to help me?" So I said she was crazy again, but I got the stuff out of her pockets and she sort of stuck herself out so I could get to 'em, and gosh. I mean, well, it was the craziest feeling, me fumbling around in that goofy-looking blouse and her all arched out at me and--and everything.
I took a cigarette and she took one, and I held a match for us. I threw the cigarettes and matches back in her lap.
"Well," I said, "I got to be moving on pretty quick. I've got plenty of things to do today."
"Mmm?" she said, settling back on one elbow.
"Going out to the golf links," I said. "Pick myself up a few fast bucks."
"Mmm?" she blew out smoke, lazy-like. "So that's where you go when you play hooky so much."
"I don't always," I said. "I get a few bucks ahead, I go into town. I saved up almost ten bucks once, and boy did I have myself a time! I ate lunch there in the station restaurant and then I went to the penny arcade and a shooting gallery and another restaurant and all to heck around."
"Mmm," she said, "you awful bad boy, you."
"Well, heck," I said. "It doesn't sound like much fun, but it was."
She squeezed her cigarette out and lay back, one arm folded under her head. She smiled at me and kind of patted the ground at her side, so I lay back, too. It was a lot more comfortable that way, and I guess I'd kind of been wanting to see her. I guess I'd kind of missed her. I don't mean I _liked_ her or anything like that, but you get used to someone, they're always around and then suddenly they aren't, and you can't help missing them.
We just sort of lay there, and, well, somehow or another her hand was in mine, but it didn't mean anything. I mean, it really didn't. Why, gosh, she'd always been tagging around after me as far back as I could remember and I'd hold onto her hand to keep her from falling or to help her over something, and maybe we hadn't held hands in a long time, but it seemed natural enough, like it ought to be, you know. Just there by ourselves, lying there and talking, it was all right.