Таинственная история Билли Миллигана

           Hegotonabus,tookitasfarasitwent,thentransferredtoanotherbusandanother,lookingatthehousesandthepeoplebutnotknowingwherehewasgoingorwhathewassearchingfor.

           Hegotoffatashoppingmallandwandered.Intomiddleofthemallhesawawishingfountain.Heflippedacoupleofcoins.Ashestartedtotossathirdquarterin,hefeltatuggingathissleeve.Alittleblackboywaslookingupathimwithbigpleadingeyes.

           "Ohshit,"Philipsaid,flippinghimthecoin.Theboygrinnedandran.

           Philippickeduptheduffelbag.Thedepressionbegantoeat-athisgutwithsuchafeelingofpainthathestoodthereforafewmoments,shudderedandleftthespot...

           Davidstaggeredundertheweightoftheduffelbaganddroppedit.Thatwastooheavyforaneight-year-old—almostnine—tocarry.Hedraggeditalongbehindhim,lookingatthestorewindows,wonderingwherehewasandhowhehadgottenhere.Hesatdownonabench,lookedaroundandwatchedchildrenplaying.Hewishedhecouldplaywiththem.Thenhegotupandstartedpullingtheduffelbagagain,butitwastooheavy,sohejustleftitandwanderedoff.

           HewentintoanArmyandNavystoreandlookedatthesurplusCB’sandsirens.Hepickedupabigplasticbubbleandpressedaswitch.Asirenwentoffandtheredlightinsidestartedflashing.Terrified,hedroppedthebubbleandran,knockingoveranicecreamvendor’sbicycleparkedoutsideandscrapinghiselbow.