Пролетая над гнездом кукушки

           Thecarsitstherewhilethedustsettles,shimmeringinthesun.Iknowitisn’ttouristswithcamerasbecausetheyneverdrivethisclosetothevillage.Iftheywanttobuyfishtheybuythembackatthehighway;theydon’tcometothevillagebecausetheyprobablythinkwestillscalppeopleandburnthemaroundapost.Theydon’tknowsomeofourpeoplearelawyersinPortland,probablywouldn’tbelieveitifItoldthem.Infact,oneofmyunclesbecameareallawyerandPapasayshediditpurelytoprovehecould,whenhe’dratherpokesalmoninthefallthananything.Papasaysifyoudon’twatchitpeoplewillforceyouonewayortheother,intodoingwhattheythinkyoushoulddo,orintojustbeingmule-stubbornanddoingtheoppositeoutofspite.

           Thedoorsofthecaropenallatonceandthreepeoplegetout,twooutofthefrontandoneoutoftheback.TheycomeclimbinguptheslopetowardourvillageandIseethefirsttwoaremeninbluesuits,andthebehindone,theonethatgotoutoftheback,isanoldwhite-hairedwomaninanoutfitsostiffandheavyitmustbearmorplate.They’repuffingandsweatingbythetimetheybreakoutofthesageintoourbaldyard.

           Thefirstmanstopsandlooksthevillageover.He’sshortandroundandwearingawhiteStetsonhat.Heshakeshisheadatthericketyclutteroffishracksandsecondhandcarsandchickencoopsandmotorcyclesanddogs.