Сияние

Phonebooth

           

           "Yourpartydoesnotanswer,"theoperatorsaid."Wouldyoulikemetokeepontrying?"

           "Acouplemorerings,operator.Doyoumind?"

           "No,sir,"thevoicesaiddutifully.

           Comeon,Al!

           Alhadhikedacrossthebridgetothenearestpayphone,calledabachelorfriendandtoldhimitwouldbeworthfiftydollarsifthefriendwouldgettheJag’ssnowtiresoutofthegarageandbringthemdowntotheHighway31bridgeoutsideofBarre.Thefriendshoweduptwentyminuteslater,wearingapairofjeansandhispajamatop.Hesurveyedthescene.

           "Killanybody?"heasked.

           AlwasalreadyjackingupthebackofthecarandJackwaslooseninglugnuts."Providentially,noone,"Alsaid.

           "IthinkI’lljustheadonbackanyway.Paymeinthemorning."

           "Fine,"Alsaidwithoutlookingup.

           Thetwoofthemhadgottenthetiresonwithoutincident,andtogethertheydrovebacktoAIShockley’shouse.AlputtheJaginthegarageandkilledthemotor.

           Inthedarkquiethesaid:"I’moffdrinking,Jacky-boy.It’sallover.I’veslainmylastmartian."

           Andnow,sweatinginthisphonebootb,itoccurredtolackthathehadneverdoubtedAl’sabilitytocarrythrough.

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