"Wolfe, Gene - Fish Story (txt)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wolfe Gene)

GENE WOLFE

A FISH STORY

Once upon a time, the story goes, Gene Wolfe sent an editor a gingerbread house
for Christmas. That editor left the treat beside the coffee machine so the
entire department could enjoy it. For half a day the house sat untouched. Then
one brave assistant editor finally broke off a large piece, and within minutes
only a few shreds of gingerbread remained. "I think everyone was afraid to mess
up anything so beautiful," said one witness. "That hardly seems likely--" came
the reply. "These people are editors."

This anecdote has no bearing whatsoever on "A Fish Story," but it's too good to
leave untold. Gene's first F&SF story was "Car Sinister" in the January 1970
issue and we're delighted he took time out from working on his new novel On
Blue's Waters, to tell us a new one...

I AM ALWAYS EMBARRASSED by the truth. For one thing, I am a writer of fiction,
and know that coming from me it will not be believed, nor does it lend itself to
neat conclusions in which the hero and heroine discover the lost silver mine. So
bear with me, or read something else. This is true-- and because it is, not
quite satisfactory.

We three were on a fishing trip along a certain river in Minnesota. We had put
Bruce's boat in the water that morning and made our way in a most dilatory
fashion downstream, stopping for an hour or two at any spot we thought might
have a muskie in it. That night we camped on shore. The next day we would make
our way to the lake, where Bruce's wife and mine would meet us about six. Rab,
who had never married, would ride as far as Madison with my wife and me. We had
not caught much, as I remember, but we had enough to make a decent meal, and
were eating it when we saw the UFO.

I do not mean that we saw a saucer-shaped mother ship from a far-off galaxy full
of cute green people with feelers. When I say it was a UFO, I mean merely what
those three letters indicate m something in the air (lights, in our case) we
could not identify. They hovered over us for a half minute, drifted off to the
northeast, then receded very fast and vanished. That was all there was to it, in
my opinion, we had witnessed a natural phenomenon of some sort, or seen some
type of aircraft.

But of course we started talking about them, and Roswell, and all that; and
after a while Bruce suggested we tell ghost stories. "We've all had some
supernatural experience," Bruce said.

And Rab said, "No."

"Oh, of course you have." Bruce winked at me.