Мгла
After the Storm. Norton. A Trip to Town.
Heworeadenimjacket,mirrorsunglasses,andnohelmet.
"Lookatthatstupidshit,"Nortongrowled.
Icircledtheparkinglotonce,lookingforagoodspace.Therewerenone.IwasjustresigningmyselftoalongwalkfromthefarendofthelotwhenIgotlucky.Alime-greenCadillacthesizeofasmallcabincruiserwaseasingoutofaslotintherankclosesttothemarket’sdoors.Themomentitwasgone,Islidintothespace.
IgaveBillySteffsshoppinglist.Hewasfive,buthecouldreadprinting."Getacartandgetstarted.Iwanttogiveyourmotherajingle.Mr.Nortonwillhelpyou.AndI’llberightalong."
WegotoutandBillyimmediatelygrabbedMr.Norton’shand.He’dbeentaughtnottocrosstheparkinglotwithoutholdinganadult’shandwhenhewasyoungerandhadn’tyetlostthehabit.Nortonlookedsurprisedforamoment,andthensmiledalittle.IcouldalmostforgivehimforfeelingSteffupwithhiseyes.Thetwoofthemwentintothemarket.
Istrolledovertothepayphone,whichwasonthewallbetweenthedrugstoreandtheNorge.Aswelteringwomaninapurplesunsuitwasjoggingthecutoffswitchupanddown.Istoodbehindherwithmyhandsinmypockets,wonderingwhyIfeltsouneasyaboutSteff,andwhytheuneaseshouldbeallwrappedupwiththatlineofwhitebutunsparklingfog,theradiostationsthatwereofftheairandtheArrowheadProject.
Thewomaninthepurplesunsuithadasunburnandfrecklesonherfatshoulders.Shelookedlikeasweatyorangebaby.
