Сияние

Up On the Roof

           

           ThelastthingberememberedwasGeorgeholdinguptheknifeandsaying:"Youbetternotcomeanycloser-"

           AndthenextthingwasMissStrong,theFrenchteacher,holdingJack’sarms,crying,screaming:"Stopit,Jack!Stopit!You’regoingtokillhim!"

           Hehadblinkedaroundstupidly.Therewasthehuntingknife,glitteringharmlesslyontheparkinglotasphaltfouryardsaway.TherewashisVolkswagen,hispooroldbatteredbug,veteranofmanywildmidnightdrunkenrides,sittingonthreefiatshoes.Therewasanewdentintherightfrontfender,hesaw,andtherewassomethinginthemiddleofthedentthatwaseitherredpaintorblood.Foramomenthehadbeenconfused,histhoughts

           (jesuschristalwehithimafterall)

           ofthatothernight.ThenhiseyeshadshiftedtoGeorge,Georgelyingdazedandblinkingontheasphalt.Hisdebategrouphadcomeoutandtheywerehuddledtogetherbythedoor,staringatGeorge.Therewasbloodonhisfacefromascalplacerationthatlookedminor,buttherewasalsobloodrunningoutofoneofGeorge’searsandthatprobablymeantaconcussion.WhenGeorgetriedtogetup,JackshookfreeofMissStrongandwenttohim.Georgecringed.

           JackputhishandsonGeorge’schestandpushedhimbackdown."Liestill,"hesaid."Don’ttrytomove."HeturnedtoMissStrong,whowasstaringatthembothwithhorror.

           "Pleasegocalltheschooldoctor,MissStrong,"betoldher.

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