"Howard Waldrop - The Ugly Chickens" - читать интересную книгу автора (Waldrop Howard)

here," I took that to mean he hadn't lived here for more than twenty
years or so.

"Jennifer!" he yelled. "You know of anybody named Gudger?" To me
he said, "My wife's lived around here all her life."

His wife came down onto the second step of the porch landing. "I think
they used to be the ones what lived on the Spradlin place before the
Spradlins. But the Spradlins left around the Korean War. I didn't know
any of the Gudgers myself. That's while we was living over to Water
Valley."

"You an insurance man?" asked Mr. Krait.

"Uh ... no," I said. I imagined the people on the porch leaning toward
me, all ears. "I'm a ... I teach college."

"Oxford?" asked Krait.

"Uh, no. University of Texas."

"Well, that's a damn long way off. You say you're looking for the
Gudgers?"

"Just their house. The area. As your wife said, I understand they left
during the Depression, I believe."

"Well, they musta had money," said the gigantic Mr. Krait. "Nobody
around here was rich enough to leave during the Depression."

"Luke!" he yelled. The oldest boy on the porch sauntered down. He

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looked anemic and wore a shirt in vogue with the Twist. He stood with
his hands in his pockets.

"Luke, show Mr. Lindbergh-"

"Lindberl."

"Mr. Lindberl here the way up to the old Spradlin place. Take him a far
as the old log bridge, he might get lost before then."

"Log bridge broke down, daddy."

"When?"

"October, daddy."