Над пропастью во ржи

           WhileIwaswaitingaroundforPhoebeinthemuseum,rightinsidethedoorsandall,thesetwolittlekidscameuptomeandaskedmeifIknewwherethemummieswere.Theonelittlekid,theonethataskedme,hadhispantsopen.Itoldhimaboutit.Sohebuttonedthemuprightwherehewasstandingtalkingtome—hedidn’tevenbothertogobehindapostoranything.Hekilledme.Iwould’velaughed,butIwasafraidI’dfeellikevomitingagain,soIdidn’t."Where’rethemummies,fella?"thekidsaidagain."Yaknow?"

           Ihorsedaroundwiththetwoofthemalittlebit."Themummies?What’rethey?"Iaskedtheonekid.

           "Youknow.Themummies—themdeadguys.Thatgetburiedinthemtoonsandall."

           Toons.Thatkilledme.Hemeanttombs.

           "Howcomeyoutwoguysaren’tinschool?"Isaid.

           "Noschoolt’day,"thekidthatdidallthetalkingsaid.Hewaslying,sureasI’malive,thelittlebastard.Ididn’thaveanythingtodo,though,tilloldPhoebeshowedup,soIhelpedthemfindtheplacewherethemummieswere.Boy,Iusedtoknowexactlywheretheywere,butIhadn’tbeeninthatmuseuminyears.

           "Youtwoguyssointerestedinmummies?"Isaid.

           "Yeah."

           "Can’tyourfriendtalk?"Isaid.

           "Heain’tmyfriend.He’smybrudda."