Марсианские хроники

           GrandpaQuartermaintookhisredhandsoffhisknees.Helookedoutatthehorizonthoughtfullyandsaid,"Teece,whataboutme?"

           "What?"

           "I’lltakeSilly’sjob."

           Theporchwassilent.

           Teecebalancedhimselfintheair."Grandpa,"hesaidwarningly.

           "Lettheboygo.I’llcleanthebrass."

           "Wouldyou,wouldyou,really?"SillyranovertoGrandpa,laughing,tearsonhischeeks,unbelieving.

           "Sure."

           "Grandpa,"saidTeece,"keepyourdamntrapoutathis."

           "Givethekidabreak,Teece."

           Teecewalkedoverandseizedtheboy’sarm."He’smine.I’mlockin’himinthebackroomuntiltonight."

           "Don’t,Mr.Teece!"

           Theboybegantosobnow.Hiscryingfilledtheairoftheporch.Hiseyesweretight.FardownthestreetanoldtinFordwaschokingalong,approaching,alastloadofcoloredpeopleinit."Herecomesmyfamily,Mr.Teece,ohplease,please,ohGod,please!"

           "Teece,"saidoneoftheothermenontheporch,gettingup,"lethimgo."

           Anothermanrosealso."Thatgoesformetoo."

           "Andme,"saidanother.

           "What’stheuse?"Themenalltalkednow."Cutitout,Teece."

           "Lethimgo."

           Teecefeltforhisguninhispocket.Hesawthemen’sfaces.Hetookhishandawayandlefttheguninhispocketandsaid,"Sothat’showitis?"

           "That’showitis,"someonesaid.

           Teecelettheboygo."Allright.Getout."Hejerkedhishandbackinthestore."ButIhopeyoudon’tthinkyou’regonnaleaveanytrashbehindtocluttermystore."