Кладбище домашних животных

62

           

           Overthecracklingsounds,heheardthewould-beherocryoutwithashrillandabsurdsortofoptimism:"Gonnaloseher!Gonnalosehersure!IfJud’sthere,he’sagonegoose!Toldimaboutthecreosoteinthatchimblyahunnerttimes!"

           Steveopenedhismouthtoholleracrossandaskifthefiredepartmenthadbeencalled,butjustthenheheardthefaintwailofsirens,approaching.Alotofthem.Theyhadbeencalled,butthewould-beherowasright:thehousewasgoing.Flamesprobedthroughhalfadozenbrokenwindowsnow,andthefronteavehadgrownanalmosttransparentmembraneoffireoveritsbrightgreenshingles.

           Heturnedback,then,rememberingLouisbutifLouiswerehere,wouldn’thebewiththeothersacrossthestreet?

           Stevecaughtsomethingthen,justbarelycaughtitwiththetailofhiseye.

           BeyondtheheadofLouis’shot-toppeddrivewaytherewasafieldthatstretchedupalong,gentlyrisinghill.Thetimothygrass,althoughstillgreen,hadgrownhighalreadythisMay,butStevecouldseeapath,almostasneatlymowedasaputtinggreenonagolfcourse.Itwoundandmeandereditswayuptheslopeofthefield,risingtomeetthewoodsthatbegan,thickandgreen,justbelowthehorizon.Itwashere,wherethepalegreenofthetimothygrassmetthethicker,densergreenofthewoods,thatStevehadseenmovementaflashofbrightwhitethatseemedtobemoving.

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