Сияние

Down in the Front Yard

           AfaintfrowntouchedhisfaceashelookedatthewideswatchoffreshshinglesatoptheOverlook’swestwing,alightergreenthantherestoftheroof.Thenhelookeddownattheboxinhishandandhisfaceclearedagain.AtnightthepicturesTonyhadshowedhimcamebacktohauntinalltheiroriginalclarity,butinsunnydaylighttheywereeasiertodisregard.

           "Look,Daddy,look!"

           Jacktooktheboxfromhisson.Itwasamodelcar,oneoftheBigDaddyRothcaricaturesthatDannybadexpressedanadmirationforinthepast.ThisonewastheViolentVioletVolkswagen,andthepictureontheboxshowedahugepurpleVW`withlong’59CadillacCoupedeVilletaillightsburningupadirttrack.TheVWhadasunroof,andpokingupthroughit,clawedhandsonthewheeldownbelow,wasagiganticwartymonsterwithpoppingbloodshoteyes,amaniacalgrin,andagiganticEnglishracingcapturnedaroundbackward.

           Wendywassmilingathim,andJackwinkedather.

           "That’swhatIlikeaboutyou,doc,"Jacksaid,handingtheboxback."Yourtasterunstothequiet,thesober,theintrospective.Youaredefinitelythechildofmyloins."

           "Mommysaidyou’dhelpmeputittogetherassoonasIcouldreadallofthefirstDickandJane."

           "Thatoughttobebytheendoftheweek,"Jacksaid."Whatelsehaveyougotinthatfine-lookingtruck,ma’am?"

           "Uh-uh."Shegrabbedhisarmandpulledhimback."Nopeeking.

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