Американские боги

           "I’mnottheoldfox’snephew,"saidHarryBluejay."Iwishhewouldn’tsaythattopeople."

           "Betteralivefoxthanadeadwolf,"saidWednesday,inavoicesodeepitwasalmostagrowl."Now,willyousellusyourcar?"

           HarryBluejayshivered,visiblyandviolently."Sure,"hesaid."Sure.Iwasonlykidding.Ikidalot,me."Heputdownthepoolcueonthepooltable,andtookathickjacket,pullingitoutfromaclusterofsimilarjacketshangingfrompegsbythedoor."Letmegetmyshitoutofthecarfirst,"hesaid.

           HekeptdartingglancesatWednesday,asifhewereconcernedthattheoldermanwasabouttoexplode.

           HarryBluejay’scarwasparkedahundredyardsaway.Astheywalkedtowardit,theypassedasmallwhitewashedCatholicchurch,andafair-hairedmaninapriest’scollarwhostaredatthemfromthedoorwayastheywentpast.Hewassuckingonacigaretteasifhedidnotenjoysmokingit.

           "Gooddaytoyou,father!"calledJohnnyChapman,butthemaninthedog-collarmadenoreply;hecrushedhiscigaretteunderhisheel,pickedupthebutt,anddroppeditintothebinbesidethedoor,andwentinside.

           "Itoldyounottogivehimthosepamphletslasttimeyouwerehere,"saidHarryBluejay.

           "Itishethatisinerror,notme,"saidChapman."Ifhe’djesreadtheSwedenborgIgavehimhe’dknowthat.It’dbringlightintohislife.