"Thompson, Jim - Pop. 1280" - читать интересную книгу автора (Thompson Jim)

I did what he told me to. He got up out of his chair, and hauled off and kicked me. He kicked me so hard that I went plumb out the door and half-ways across the hall.
"Now, you come back in here," he said, crocking a finger at me. "You just sit down there like you was, so's I can ask you some questions."
I said I guessed I'd better stand up for a minute, and he said all right, have my own way about it. "You know why I kicked you, Nick?"
"Well," I said, "I guess you probably had a good reason. You were trying to teach me something."
"Right! So here's what I want to ask you. Say a fella kicks you in the ass like! just did,why what do you do about it?"
"I don't rightly know," I said. "No one ever kicked me in the ass before, saving my daddy, God rest his soul, and there wasn't much I could do about it with him."
"But suppose someone did. Let's just say we got a hypocritical case where someone kicks you in the ass. What would you do about it?"
"Well," I said. "I guess I'd kick him in the ass. I guess that'd be about right."
"Turn around," Ken said. "You turn right back around again. You ain't learned your lesson yet."
"Well, looky," I said. "Maybe if you could just explain a little more--"
"You turnin' ongrateful?" Ken frowned. "You tryin' to give orders to a fella when he's trying to help you?"
"No, no, I ain't trying to do that," I said. "But--"
"Well,! should hope not! Now, you just turn around like I told you to."
I turned my back to him again; there just wasn't anything else I could do, it looked like. He and Buck both got up, and they both kicked me at the same time.
They kicked me so hard that I went practically straight up instead of forward. I came down kind of crooked on my left arm, and it hurt so bad that I almost forgot who I was for a moment.
I picked myself up, trying to rub my ass and my arm at the same time. Which just can't be done, in case you're thinking about doing it. I sat down, sore as! was, because I was just too dizzy to stand.
"Hurt your arm?" Ken said. "Whereabouts?"
"I'm not positive," I said. "It could be either the radius or the ulna."
Buck gave me a sudden sharp look out from under his hatbrim. Sort of like I'd just walked into the room and he was seeing me for the first time. But of course Ken didn't notice anything. Ken had so much on his mind, I reckon, helping poor stupid fellas like me, that he maybe didn't notice a lot of things.
"Now, I guess you learned your lesson, right, Nick?" he said. "You see the futility of not givin' back no more hurt than what you get?"
"Well, I sure learned some kind of lesson," I said. "So if that's the one you was teaching me, I guess that was it."
"Y'see, maybe the other fella can kick harder'n you can. Or maybe he's got a tougher ass an' it don't hurt him as much as it does you. Or say you got a situation like me an' Buck just demonstrated. Two fellas start kicking you in the ass, so's you get two kicks for every one you give. You get a situation like that, which is just about what you got figuratively speakin', why you could get the ass kicked clean off of you a-fore you had time to tip your hat."
"But these pimps ain't kicked me," I said. "They just been sassin' me, and shovin' me around a little."
"Same principle. Same principle, pre-zackly. Right, Buck?"
"Right! Y'see, Nick, when a fella starts doin' somethin' bad to you, the proper way to pay him back is t'do somethin' twice as bad to him. Otherwise, the best you got is maybe a stand-off, and you don't never get nothing settled."
"Kee-reck!" Ken said. "So I'll tell you what to do about them pimps. The next time they even look like they're goin' to sass you, you just kick 'em in the balls as hard as you can."
"Huh?" I said. "But--but don't it hurt awful bad?"
"Pshaw, 'course it don't hurt. Not if you're wearin' a good pair o' boots without no holes in 'em."
"That's right," Buck said. "You just be sure you ain't got any toes stickin' out and it won't hurt you a-tall."
"I mean, wouldn't it hurt the pimps?" I said. "Me,! don't think I could stand even an easy kick in the balls."
"Why, shorely, shorely it would hurt 'em," Ken nodded. "How else you goin' to make 'em behave if you don't hurt 'em bad?"
"You're actually lettin' 'em off pretty easy, Nick," Buck said. "I know I'd sure hate to be in the same room if any pimp sassed old Ken here. Ken wouldn't stop with just kickin' 'em. Why, a-fore they knew what was happening, he'd just yank out his pissoliver and shoot 'em right in their sassy mouths."
"Pre-zackly!" Ken said. "I'd send them sassy skunks to hell without no fooling around about it."
"So you're really being too easy on 'em, Nick. A god-danged sight easier than a proud, intelligent upstandin' officer like ol' Ken. Ken would shoot 'em deader'n doornails, if he was in your place, and you heard him say so yourself."
"Right!" said Ken. "I sure wouldn't miss doing pre-zackly that."
Well . . .
It looked like I'd got what I came for, and it was getting kind of late by then. So I thanked Ken for his advice, and stood up. I was still just a little wobbly, though; kind of rocking on my heels. And Ken asked me if! was sure! could make it to the station all right.
"Well, I guess so," I said. "I sure hope so, anyways. It sure wouldn't seem right for me to ask you to walk me there after everything you've already done for me."
"Why, you don't need to ask!" Ken said. "You think I'd let you go all the way to the train alone, a fella that looks as peaked as you do?"
"Well, I wouldn't want to trouble you none," I said.
"Trouble?" Ken said. "Why, it's a positive pleasure! Buck, you just heist yourself up out of that chair, and walk Nick to the depot."
Buck nodded and heisted himself up. I said I sure hoped I wasn't putting him to any bother, and he said it wouldn't be no bother a-tall.
"Just so's you can bear with me," he said. "Know I can't be no ways as good a comp'ny for you as a fella like Ken."
"Well, now, I'm sure you'll be just fine," I said. "Bet you'll prove out a real interestin' fella."
"I'll try," Buck promised. "Yes, sir, I'll purely try, and that's a fack."

6
I had supper down near the depot, buying a whopping big meal for Buck along with my own. Then, my train came and Buck walked me down to the car I was riding in. Not that I couldn't have made it all right by myself--I was feeling pretty good about then. But we were getting along real fine, just like I thought we might, and we had a lot of things to say to each other.
I fell asleep almost as soon as I'd given my ticket to the conductor. But I didn't sleep good. Dog-tired as I was, I drifted into a scary dream, the nightmare that was always a-haunting me. I dreamed that I was a kid again only it didn't seem like a dream. I was a kid, living in the old rundown plantation house with my daddy. Trying to keep out of his way, and never being able to. Getting beat half to death every time he could grab me.
I dreamed I was ducking into a doorway, thinking I'd got away from him. And suddenly being grabbed from behind.