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

LA JET├ЙE



"Look at this," Mrs. Sunquist said. "They're even tearing down the buildings I hated to
make way for new."



Mr. Sunquist knew he should be irate. Bobby Shelbourne hustled his phony nostalgia in
the one place where nostalgia was useless. Somehow, he could do nothing but envy the
man's gall.
They found an open-air market down the street. Palm fronds covered the porch,
implying some sort of tropical oeuvre. Nearer the road were the hydrogen pumps, and
electrical-charge outlets, and gasoline for the hybrids. As Mr. Sunquist started into the
hydrogen lane, his wife grabbed his wrist and pointed across the street.



Their own car was parked at the curb, as if the occupants had gone for a walk over the
chalk-white dunes to the ocean.



The Sunquists stared in astonishment. It was indeed their car, only the paint had faded
to a dried-out coral. The seats had been left to the salt air and the sun till they had rotted
open.



Someone had half-pulled an old beach blanket across the over-ripened seat cushions. An
insignia on the blanket commemorated the Mer Noire regatta, fourteen years hence. The
blanket looked as if it had been in the sun a couple of years even beyond that.



Mr. Sunquist thought for a moment. He realized what it had to mean. "It's our car all
right, but we've passed it on to our child. This is just the sort of thing we would do."



Mrs. Sunquist looked doubtful. "Sixteen years from now? We'll have this car sixteen years
from now?"



"It surely wouldn't be us." Mr. Sunquist cast a melodramatic stare toward Mrs. Sunquist.
"Are we down on the beach somewhere? Should we go look?"