Бойцовский клуб
Chapter 13
Marlalaughsatthisuntilsheseesmyfingershavestopped. LikemaybeI’vefoundsomething.
Marlastopsbreathingandherstomachgoeslikeadrum,andherheartislikeafistpoundingfrominsidethetightskinofadrum. Butno,IstoppedbecauseI’mtalking,andIstoppedbecause,foraminute,neitherofuswasinMarla’sbedroom. Wewereinthemedicalschoolyearsago,sittingonthestickypaperwithmydickonfirewithliquidnitrogen whenoneofthemedicalstudentssawmybarefeetandlefttheroomfastintwobigsteps. Thestudentcamebackinbehindthreerealdoctors, andthedoctorselbowedthemanwiththecanisterofliquidnitrogentooneside.
Arealdoctorgrabbedmybarerightfootandhefteditintothefaceoftheotherrealdoctors. ThethreeturneditandpokeditandtookPolaroidpicturesofthefoot, anditwasasiftherestoftheperson,halfdressedwithGod’sgifthalffrozen,didn’texist. Onlythefoot,andtherestofthemedicalstudentspressedintosee.
"Howlong,"adoctorasked, "haveyouhadthisredblotchonyourfoot?"
Thedoctormeantmybirthmark. OnmyrightfootisabirthmarkthatmyfatherjokeslookslikeadarkredAustralia withalittleNewZealandrightnexttoit. ThisiswhatItoldthemanditletalltheairoutofeverything. Mydickwasthawingout.
