Коллекционер
Chapter 1
Onedaysoonafter,Ibroughtinaplateofperfectlynicebakedbeansontoastandshejustpickeditupandhurleditstraightatme.Ifeltlikegivingheragoodclipovertheearhole.AboutthistimeIwasfedupwiththewholething,theredidn’tseemanypointinit,Itriedeverything,butshewouldkeeponholdingthateveningagainstme.Itwaslikewehadreachedadeadend.
Thenonedaysheactuallyaskedforsomething.Igotinthehabitofleavingatonceaftersupperbeforeshecouldshoutatme,butthistimeshesaid,stopaminute.
"Iwantabath."
It’snotconvenienttonight,Isaid.Iwasn’treadyforthat.
"Tomorrow?"
Don’tseewhynot.Withparole.
"I’llgivemyparole."Shesaiditinanastyhardvoice.Iknewwhatherparolewasworth.
"AndIwanttowalkinthecellar."Shepushedforwardherhands,andItiedthemup.ItwasthefirsttimeItouchedherfordays.Well,asusualIwentandsatonthestepstotheouterdoorandshewalkedupanddowninthefunnywayshehad.Itwasverywindy,youcouldhearitdownthere,justthesoundofherfeetandthewindabove.Shedidn’tspeakforquiteatime,Idon’tknowwhybutIknewshewantedto.
"Areyouenjoyinglife?"shesuddenlycameoutwith.
Notmuch,Ianswered.Cautious.
Shewalkedtoandfrofourorfivetimesmore.Thenshestartedtohummusic.
That’sanicetune,Isaid.
"Doyoulikeit?"
Yes,Isaid.
"ThenIdon’tanymore."
Twoorthreemoretimesshewentupanddown.
"Talktome."
