Сияние

Talking to Mr. Ullman

           There’snoneedtodressitup."

           (Whyareyoubaitinghim?Doyouwanttobefired?)

           "Idon’tcareifChapterFiveisaboutthePopeofRomescrewingtheshadeoftheVirginMary,"Ullmansaid,hisvoicerising."Iwantyououtofmyhotel!"

           "It’snotyourhotel!"Jackscreamed,andslammedthereceiverintoitscradle.

           Hesatonthestoolbreathinghard,alittlescarednow,

           (alittle?hell,alot)

           wonderingwhyinthenameofGodhehadcalledUllmaninthefirstplace.

           (Youlostyourtemperagain,Jack.)

           Yes.Yes,hehad.Nosensetryingtodenyit.Andthebellofitwas,hehadnoideahowmuchinfluencethatcheaplittleprickhadoverAl,nomorethanheknewhowmuchbullshitAlwouldtakefromhiminthenameofauldlangsyne.IfUllmanwasasgoodasheclaimedtobe,andifhegaveAlahe-goes-or-I-goultimatum,mightnotAlbeforcedtotakeit?HeclosedhiseyesandtriedtoimaginetellingWendy.Guesswhat,babe?Ilostanotherjob.ThistimeIhadtogothroughtwothousandmilesofBellTelephonecabletofindsomeonetopunchout,butImanagedit.

           Heopenedhiseyesandwipedhismouthwithhishandkerchief.Hewantedadrink.Hell,heneededone.Therewasacafejustdownthestreet,surelyhehadtimeforaquickbeeronhiswayuptothepark,justonetolaythedust…

           Heclenchedhishandstogetherhelplessly.

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