Вино из одуванчиков

           Douglasmovedslowlyacrossthelawn."Tom,whatyoucounting?"

           "...thirteen,fourteen,shutup,sixteen,seventeen,cicadas,eighteen,nineteen...!"

           "Cicadas?"

           "Ohhell!"Tomunsqueezedhiseyes."Hell,hell,hell!"

           "Betternotletpeoplehearyouswearing."

           "Hell,hell,hellisaplace!"Tomcried."NowIgottostartallover.Iwascountingthetimesthecicadasbuzzeveryfifteenseconds."Hehelduphistwodollarwatch."Youtimeit,thenaddthirty-nineandyougetthetemperatureatthatverymoment."Helookedatthewatch,oneeyeshut,tiltedhisheadandwhisperedagain,"One,two,three...!"

           Douglasturnedhisheadslowly,listening.Somewhereintheburningbone-coloredskyagreatcopperwirewasstrummedandshaken.Againandagainthepiercingmetallicvibrations,likechargesofrawelectricity,fellinparalyzingshocksfromthestunnedtrees.

           "Seven!"countedTom."Eight."

           Douglaswalkedslowlyuptheporchsteps.Painfullyhepeeredintothehall.Hestayedthereamoment,thenslowlyhesteppedbackoutontheporchandcalledweaklytoTom."It’sexactlyeighty-sevendegreesFahrenheit."

           "-twenty-seven,twenty-eight—"

           "Hey,Tomyouhearme?"

           "Ihearyou—thirty,thirty-one!Getaway!Two,threethirty-four!"

           "Youcanstopcountingnow,rightinsideonthatoldthermometerit’seighty-sevenandgoingup,withoutthehelpofnokatydids."

           "Cicadas!Thirty-nine,forty!Notkatydids!Forty-two!"

           "Eighty-sevendegrees,Ithoughtyou’dliketoknow.