Грань будущего

           "Anyblisterstoday?"Ferrell’sattentionneverlefthisshoes.HespokeBurstwitharollofthetonguepeculiartoBrazilians.

           "No."

           "Gettingcoldfeet?"

           "I’dbelyingifIsaidIwasn’tscared,butI’mnotplanningonrunning,ifthat’swhatyoumean."

           "Foragreenhornfreshoutofbasic,you’reshapingupjustfine."

           "Youstillkeepupwithyourtraining,don’tyou,Sarge?"

           "Tryto."

           "WouldyoumindifItrainedwithyou?"

           "Youattemptingsomekindofhumor,Private?"

           "Nothingfunnyaboutkilling,sir."

           "Well,there’ssomethingfunnywithyourheadifyouwanttostuffyourselfintooneofthosedamnJacketsthedaybeforeweheadouttodie.Youwanttoworkupasweat,gofindacoed’sthighstodoitin."Ferrell’seyesstayedonhislaces."Dismissed."

           "Sarge?Withallduerespect,Idon’tseeyourunningaftertheladies."

           Ferrellfinallylookedup.Hiseyeswere20mmriflebarrelsfiringvolleysatmefromthebunkerssetdeepinthelinesofhistanned,leatheryface.Icookedundertheglaringsun.

           "Youtellin’meyouthinkI’msomesortoffaggotwho’dratherbestrappedintoaJacketreekingofsweatthanupbetweenawoman’slegs?Thatwhatyou’retellin’me?"

           "Tha-that’s-notwhatImeant,sir!"

           "Right,then.Takeaseat."Heranhishandthroughhishairandpattedtheground.

           Isatdownasagustofoceanwindblewbetweenus.

           "IwasonIshigaki,youknow,"Ferrellbegan."Mustabeenatleasttenyearsago.Jacketsbackthenwerecheapashell.