Американские боги

           Hecouldhardlyseethroughthewindowsnowfortheiceontheinsideofthepaneswhichturnedtheviewofthelakeintoanabstractimage.

           Hisbreathwascloudingintheair.

           Hewentoutofhisapartmentontothewoodendeckandknockedonthedoornextdoor.Heheardawoman’svoiceshoutingatsomeonetoforheaven’ssakeshutupandturnthattelevisiondown—akidhethought,adultsdon’tshoutlikethatatotheradults,notwiththattoneintheirvoice.Thedooropenedandatiredwomanwithverylong,veryblackhairwasstaringathimwarily.

           "Yes?"

           "Howdoyoudo,ma’am.I’mMikeAinsel.I’myournext-doorneighbor."

           Herexpressiondidnotchange,notbyahair."Yes?"

           "Ma’am.It’sfreezinginmyapartment.There’salittleheatcomingoutofthegrate,butit’snotwarmingtheplaceup,notatall."

           Shelookedhimupanddown,thenaghostofasmiletouchedtheedgesofherlipsandshesaid,"Comein,then.Ifyoudon’tthere’llbenoheatinhere,either."

           Hesteppedinsideherapartment.Plastic,multicoloredtoyswerestrewnalloverthefloor.ThereweresmallheapsoftornChristmaswrappingpaperbythewall.Asmallboysatinchesawayfromthetelevisionset,avideooftheDisneyHerculesplaying,ananimatedsatyrstompingandshoutinghiswayacrossthescreen.ShadowkepthisbacktotheTVset.

           "Okay,"shesaid.