Сияние

Outside 217

           Hestoppedimmediately,hisshoulderstwitchingforwardwiththesuddennessofhisscare.Hisbloodthumpedthicklyinhisearsandtemples.Hismouthhadgonedryandsour,hishandscurledintofists.Yetthenozzleofthehoseonlylaythere,itsbrasscasingglowingmellowly,aloopofflatcanvasleadingbackuptothered-paintedframeboltedtothewall.

           Soithadfallenoff,sowhat?Itwasonlyafireextinguisher,nothingelse.Itwasstupidtothinkthatitlookedlikesomepoisonsnakefrom"WideWorldofAnimals"thathadheardhimandwokenup.Evenifthestitchedcanvasdidlookalittlebitlikescales.Hewouldjuststepoveritandgodownthehalltothestairs,walkingalittlebitfast,maybe,tomakesureitdidn’tsnapoutafterhimandcurlaroundhisfoot…

           Hewipedhislipswithhislefthand,inunconsciousimitationofhisfather,andtookastepforward.Nomovementfromthehose.Anotherstep.Nothing.There,seehowstupidyouare?YougotallworkedupthinkingaboutthatdumbroomandthatdumbBluebeardstoryandthathosewasprobablyreadytofalloffforthelastfiveyears.That’sall.

           Dannystaredatthehoseonthefloorandthoughtofwasps.

           Eightstepsaway,thenozzleofthehosegleamedpeacefullyathimfromtherugasiftosay:Don’tworry.I’mjustahose,that’sall.Andevenifthatisn’tall,whatIdotoyouwon’tbemuchworsethanabeesting.Orawaspsting.

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