Темная башня: Стрелок
Chapter 5
Therewereanumberoflights,mostofthemclusteredaroundtheareaofthemusic.Therelookedtobefourstreets,threerunningatrightanglestothecoachroad,whichwasthemainavenueofthetown.Perhapstherewouldbearestaurant.Hedoubtedit,butperhaps.Hecluckedatthemule.
Morehousessporadicallylinedtheroadnow,mostofthemstilldeserted.Hepassedatinygraveyardwithmoldy,leaningwoodenslabsovergrownandchokedbytherankdevil-grass.Perhapsfivehundredfeetfurtheronhepassedachewedsignwhichsaid:TULL
Thepaintwasflakedalmosttothepointofillegibility.Therewasanotherfurtheron,butthegunslingerwasnotabletoreadthatoneatall.
Afool’schorusofhalf-stonedvoiceswasrisinginthefinalprotractedlyricofHeyJude-"Naa-naa-naanaa-nana-na...hey,Jude..."-asheenteredthetownproper.Itwasadeadsound,likethewindinthehollowofarottedtree.Onlytheprosaicthumpandpoundofthehonky-tonkpianosavedhimfromseriouslywonderingifthemaninblackmightnothaveraisedghoststoinhabitadesertedtown.Hesmiledalittleatthethought.
Therewereafewpeopleonthestreets,notmany,butafew.Threeladieswearingblackslacksandidenticalmiddyblousespassedbyontheoppositeboardwalk,notlookingathimwithpointedcuriosity.Theirfacesseemedtoswimabovetheirall-but-invisiblebodieslikehuge,pallidbaseballswitheyes.Asolemnoldmanwithastrawhatperchedfirmlyontopofhisheadwatchedhimfromthestepsofaboarded-upgrocerystore.
