"Richard Wadholm - From Here You Can See The Sunquists" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wadholm Richard)

Mr. Sunquist gripped his wife's hand. This trip was already working changes on her. That
sturdy quiet she had acquired over the lean years of their middle age, that had melted to
the shyness he remembered so well. He would have shared this moment with the world.
Bobby came out with his nickel-topped Dobro guitar. Roger Swann hunkered down next
to him with some squat Caribbean drum between his knees. They were a team in those
days, Bobby and Roger. If Bobby played guitar, Roger would be there with the drums.



There was this trombone player that neither of the Sunquists remembered. He nudged
Bobby Shelbourne. He motioned toward his girl and the young man sitting next to her.



Perhaps he had a look of mischief. If so, he would be disappointed. Bobby Shelbourne
saw Bill Sunquist leaning close to Melanie. He grinned and shook his finger,
school-marm style. Billy laughed. Melanie gave him a girl-slug and nodded toward her
boyfriend on the stage? See? I told you.



Everybody knew each other at Sonny's. Everything was easy.



The music started. Jug-band blues, simple and irresistible. Everybody on the patio
pushed forward under the gnarled banyan tree. They sang along to the songs they knew.
They shoulder-danced to the songs they didn't know. They ate mangoes and papayas
and drank fermented sidra from terra-cotta jugs.



Then it came time for this walking blues, "Limousine Blues." Billy Lee Sunquist liked this
song. He wasn't sure yet, but he was thinking about incorporating it as his personal
theme.



He threw back his head at the first note. His face split into a wide grin. "My song!" he
cried. "Bobby remembered my song!"



Melanie was still wiping mango pulp from her fingers as he took her hand. "Ohh no," she
was saying as he led her out in front of the band. "Ohh no."