Уловка 22

The Soldier in White

           "Saysomethingtocheerhimup."

           "Giuseppe."

           "It’snotGiuseppe,Ma.It’sYossarian."

           "Whatdifferencedoesitmake?"themotheransweredinthesamemourningtone,withoutlookingup."He’sdying."Hertumideyesfilledwithtearsandshebegantocry,rockingbackandforthslowlyinherchairwithherhandslyinginherlaplikefallenmoths.Yossarianwasafraidshewouldstartwailing.Thefatherandbrotherbegancryingalso.Yossarianrememberedsuddenlywhytheywereallcrying,andhebegancryingtoo.AdoctorYossarianhadneverseenbeforesteppedinsidetheroomandtoldthevisitorscourteouslythattheyhadtogo.Thefatherdrewhimselfupformallytosaygoodbye.

           "Giuseppe,"hebegan.

           "Yossarian,"correctedtheson.

           "Yossarian,"saidthefather.

           "Giuseppe,"correctedYossarian.

           "Soonyou’regoingtodie."Yossarianbegantocryagain.Thedoctorthrewhimadirtylookfromtherearoftheroom,andYossarianmadehimselfstop.

           Thefathercontinuedsolemnlywithhisheadlowered."Whenyoutalktothemanupstairs,"hesaid,"IwantyoutotellHimsomethingforme.TellHimitain’trightforpeopletodiewhenthey’reyoung.Imeanit.TellHimiftheygottodieatall,theygottodiewhenthey’reold.IwantyoutotellHimthat.Idon’tthinkHeknowsitain’tright,becauseHe’ssupposedtobegoodandit’sbeengoingonforalong,longtime

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