Вино из одуванчиков

           Oh,wedon’tknowwhat’swrong!"

           "Evenifhe’snot‘awake,’"saidMr.Jonas,"I’dliketotalktohim.Sometimesthethingsyouhearinyoursleeparemoreimportant,youlistenbetter,itgetsthrough."

           "I’msorry,Mr.Jonas,Ijustcan’ttakethechance."Mrs.Spauldingcaughtholdofthescreen-doorhandleandheldfasttoit."Thanks.Thankyou,anyway,forcomingby."

           "Yes,ma’am,"saidMr.Jonas.

           Hedidnotmove.Hestoodlookingupatthewindowabove.Mrs.Spauldingwentinthehouseandshutthescreendoor.

           Upstairs,onhisbed,Douglasbreathed.

           Itwasasoundlikeasharpknifegoinginandout,inandout,ofasheath.

           Ateighto’clockthedoctorcameandwentagainshakinghishead,hiscoatoff,histieuntied,lookingasifhehadlostthirtypoundsthatday.Atnineo’clockTomandMotherandFathercarriedacotoutsideandbroughtDouglasdowntosleepintheyardundertheappletreewhere,iftheremightbeawind,itwouldfindhimsoonerthanintheterribleroomsabove.Thentheywentbackandforthuntileleveno’clock,whentheysetthealarmclocktowakethematthreeandchipmoreicetorefillthepacks.

           Thehousewasdarkandstillatlast,andtheyslept.

           Attwelvethirty-five,Douglas’seyesflinched.

           Themoonhadbeguntorise.

           Andfarawayavoicebegantosing.

           Itwasahighsadvoicerisingandfalling.Itwasaclearvoiceanditwasintune.Youcouldnotmakeoutthewords.