"Howard Waldrop & Leigh Kennedy - One Horse Town" - читать интересную книгу автора (Waldrop Howard)

Howard Waldrop and Leigh Kennedy
ONE HORSE TOWN

In whatever language, the meaning of the voice was clear. "Hey, you!"
Homer screwed up his eyes against the rusty colors of the windy sky, trying to focus towards the sound.
Dust and grit swirled up against his face from the hillside path in the ruins.
The gruff voice reminded him of his fears when he was a little boy clambering all over the ruins on his own.
His parents had conjured up dire stories of snatched boys who never saw their families again, forced to do
things they didn't want to do, sometimes killed casually, sometimes savagely, when no longer needed. The
fear had been part of the excitement of playing here.
Now, no longer a boy, just about a man, he found himself more afraid than ever. He knew he was even
more vulnerable than when he had been a little lad. Over the past three years, his eyesight beyond the length
of his forearm had liquefied into a terrible blur. Not such a problem in the familiar confines of his hometown,
but he realized he could no longer distinguish between the olive trees and the juts of ancient city walls. Or
people-friends or enemies.
He made out one of the shapes, dark and man-sized, in motion as if shaking his fists, and heard the
crunch of quickening footfall in the rubble.
Homer made a hasty backwards move down the slope of the grassy mound grown around the wall.
The shape melted away. It didn't move away or step out of sight, but melted away. Homer made an
involuntary noise in his throat, frozen. Perhaps that, too, was a trick of his eyes.
He could smell the sea wind just below this jagged hill, hear dark crows gathering for the night, but no
other human sound besides his own panting. The oncoming dusk felt cool on his arms.
Time to go, he thought.
Darkness is the enemy of youths who were too nearsighted to spot a cow in a kitchen. Even though the
family found him pretty useless, a dreamer who tripped over stools, he thought they might be getting worried.
He had discovered the ruins during family trips up north in the summers of his childhood. They captured
his imagination like nothing he'd ever known, especially after hearing the stories about what had happened
here; all year long had been an agony, waiting to return. The happiest days of his life: standing on the walls,
shooting pretend arrows, hacking invisible enemies with swords, shouting out offers of help to long-dead
imaginary hero-friends.
He was almost grown, but the magic was still here. The wind carried a soft keening moan. A woman's
sigh, he imagined. When he was a boy, he had never experienced this deep pit-of-the-stomach longing for
something still unknown to him.
Now the sun was going. He stood with his nose in the air like a dog, feeling the breeze, sensing the sea
to his right. Turning his head, he saw sunlight glowing like coppered bronze on the almond groves below,
knowing that was where he needed to go. He made his way over the uneven stones and earthen mounds
alongside giant thumbs of broken buildings from the ancient city, pointing out the mute tale of its own
destruction.
On an especially steep place, he found footing in an earthen ledge. The root he clutched to steady himself
gave way suddenly, and Homer clawed into the earth to regain his balance. His fingers touched something
smooth and round, unlike a stone, but harder than wood. He squatted close for a look. It was a pale, whatever
it was. Curious, he found a stone and scraped at the soil, tugging now and then until it gradually loosened.
With a jerk, it gave way and tumbled into his palm. Turning it over and over in his hands, he gradually came to
realize what it was.
A baby's skull, cracked with fractures, all but two bottom front teeth still embedded in the jawbone. He
almost dropped the tiny skull out of horror.
Homer looked up, working out from his knowledge of the ruins where he was: underneath the palace.
"Poor little warrior," Homer whispered, even though his neck hairs stood. He dug further into the earth,
now feeling the tiny backbone, and replaced the skull. He covered it as much as he could, then scrambled
away.