Грань будущего

           "Thataproblem?"

           "No,Isupposenot-"

           "Thanksforyourhelp."

           Bucketinhand,Ritawalkedbacktriumphantly.Shethunkeditdowninthemiddleofthetablerightinfrontofme.

           Thecontainerwasaboutthirtycentimetersacrossatthemouth-atubbigenoughtoserveabouttwohundredmen,sincenobodyeverwantedmorethanone-packedhalfwaytothetopwithbrightredumeboshi.Bigenoughtodrownasmallcat.Thebaseofmytonguestartedtoachejustlookingatit.Ritawentforherchopsticks.

           Shesingledoutoneofthewrinkled,reddishfruitfromthebucketandpoppeditintohermouth.Shechewed.Sheswallowed.Outcamethepit.

           "Notsouratall."Hereyeswatered.

           Ritapassedthebarreltomewithashove.Myturn.IpickedoutthesmallestoneIcouldfindandputitinmymouth.Iateitandspitoutthepit.

           "Mineeither."

           Wewereplayingourowngameofgastronomicchicken.ThetipsofRita’schopsticksquiveredassheplungedthembackintothebarrel.Shetriedtwicetopickupanotherumeboshibetweenthembeforeshegaveupandjustskeweredoneonasinglestick,liftingittohermouth.Thefruittraileddropsofpinkliquidthatstainedthetraywheretheyfell.

           Acrowdofonlookershadbeguntogatheraroundus.Theywatchedinuneasysilenceatfirst,buttheexcitementgrewpalpablywitheachpitspatoutonthetray.

           Sweatbeadedonourskinlikecondensationonahotday’sbeercan.Therevoltingpileofhalf-chewedpitsgrew.Rachelwasofftotheside,watchingwithaworriedsmile.