Сияние

In the Playground

           Justcutthemdownandresodthelawnwherethey’dbeenandputinhalfadozensmallmetaltableswithgailycoloredumbrellas.PeoplecouldhavecocktailsontheOverlook’slawninthesummersun.Sloeginfizzesandmargaritasandpinkladiesandallthosesweettouristdrinks.Arumandtonic,maybe.Jacktookhishandkerchiefoutofhisbackpocketandslowlyrubbedhislipswithit.

           "Comeon,comeon,"hesaidsoftly.Thatwasnothingtobethinkingabout.

           Hewasgoingtostartback,andthensomeimpulsemadehimchangehismindandhewentdowntotheplaygroundinstead.Itwasfunnyhowyouneverknewkids,hethought.HeandWendyhadexpectedDannywouldlovetheplayground;ithadeverythingakidcouldwant.ButJackdidn’tthinktheboyhadbeendownhalfadozentimes,ifthat.Hesupposediftherehadbeenanotherkidtoplaywith,itwouldhavebeendifferent.

           Thegatesqueakedslightlyashelethimselfin,andthentherewascrushedgravelcrunchingunderhisfeet.Hewentfirsttotheplayhouse,theperfectscalemodeloftheOverlookitself.Itcameuptohislowerthigh,justaboutDanny’sheightwhenhewasstandingup.Jackhunkereddownandlookedinthethird-floorwindows.

           "Thegianthascometoeatyouallupinyourbeds,"hesaidhollowly."KissyourTripleAratinggoodbye."Butthatwasn’tfunny,either.Youcouldopenthehousesimplybypullingitapart-itopenedonahiddenhinge.Theinsidewasadisappointment.

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