Сияние

Dreamland

           Couldhecomerightaway?Itwastheirmother.No,hecouldn’tsaywhatthetroublewas,notoverthephone,notoverapartylinehecouldn’t.Justcome.ThedoctorcameandtookMommaawaytothehospitalwhereDaddyhadworkedallofhisadultlife.Daddy,soberedupsome(orperhapsonlywiththestupidcunningofanyhardpressedanimal),toldthedoctorshehadfallendownstairs.Therewasbloodonthetableclothbecausehehadtriedtowipeherdearfacewithit.Hadherglassesflownallthewaythroughthelivingroomandintothediningroomtolandinhermashedpotatoesandgravy?thedoctoraskedwithakindofhorrid,grinningsarcasm.Isthatwhathappened,Mark?IhaveheardoffolkswhocangetaradiostationontheirgoldfillingsandIhaveseenamangetshotbetweentheeyesandlivetotellaboutit,butthatisanewoneonme.Daddyhadmerelyshookhisheadandsaidhedidn’tknow;theymusthavefallenoffherfacewhenhebroughtherthroughthediningroom.Thefourchildrenhadbeenstunnedtosilencebythecalmstupendousnessofthelie.FourdayslaterBrettquithisjobinthemillandjoinedtheArmy.Jackhadalwaysfeltitwasnotjustthesuddenandirrationalbeatinghisfatherhadadministeredatthedinnertablebutthefactthat,inthehospital,theirmotherhadcorroboratedtheirfather’sstorywhileholdingthehandoftheparishpriest.Revolted,Bretthadleftthemtowhatevermightcome.

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