Кладбище домашних животных

52

           That’snowaytorunthisrailroad...nottonight.

           Hegotup,holdinghimselfstraightagainstthestiffnessthathadalsosettledintohisback,andcrossedtothephone.

           ItwasRachel.

           "Jud?Hashecomehome?"

           "No,"Judsaid."Rachel,whereareyou?Yousoundcloser."

           "Iamcloser,"Rachelsaid.Andalthoughshedidsoundclosersomehow,therewasadistanthummingonthewire.Itwasthesoundofthewind,somewherebetweenhereandwherevershewas.Thewindwashightonight.ThatsoundthatalwaysmadeJudthinkofdeadvoices,sighinginchorus,maybesingingsomethingjustalittletoofarawaytobemadeout."I’mattherestareaatBiddefordontheMaineTurnpike."

           "Biddeford!"

           "Icouldn’tstayinChicago.Itwasgettingtome,too...whateveritwasthatgotEllie,itwasgettingmetoo.Andyoufeelit.It’sinyourvoice."

           "Ayuh."HepickedaChesterfieldoutofhispackandslippeditintothecornerofhismouth.Hepoppedawoodenmatchalightandwatcheditflickerashishandtrembled.Hishandshadn’ttremblednotbeforethisnightmarehadcommencedanyway.Outside,heheardthatdarkwindgust.Ittookthehouseinitshandandshookit.

           Power’sgrowing.Icanfeelit.

           Dimterrorinhisoldbones.Itwaslikespunglass,fineandfragile.

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