Марсианские хроники
June 2003: Way in the Middle of the Air
"YougotonenamedRollDemBones?"
"Good-by,mister!"
"AndanothercalledOverJordan!Ha!Well,totethatrocket,boy,liftthatrocket,boy,goon,getblownup,seeifIcare!"
Thecarchurnedoffintothedust.TheboyroseandcuppedhishandstohismouthandshoutedonelasttimeatTeece:"Mr.Teece,Mr.Teece,whatyougoin’todonightsfromnowon?Whatyougoin’todonights,Mr.Teece?"
Silence.Thecarfadeddowntheroad.Itwasgone."Whatinhelldidhemean?"musedTeece."WhatamIgoin’todonights?"
Hewatchedthedustsettle,anditsuddenlycametohim.
Herememberednightswhenmendrovetohishouse,theirkneesstickingupsharpandtheirshotgunsstickingupsharper,likeacarfulofcranesunderthenighttreesofsummer,theireyesmean.Honkingthehornandhimslamminghisdoor,aguninhishand,laughingtohimself,hisheartracinglikeaten-year-old’s,drivingoffdownthesummer-nightroad,aringofhempropecoiledonthecarfloor,freshshellboxesmakingeveryman’scoatlookbunchy.Howmanynightsovertheyears,howmanynightsofthewindrushinginthecar,floppingtheirhairovertheirmeaneyes,roaring,astheypickedatree,agoodstrongtree,andrappedonashantydoor!
"Sothat’swhatthesonofabitchmeant?"Teeceleapedoutintothesunlight."Comeback,youbastard!WhatamIgoin’todonights?Why,thatlousy,insolentsonofa…"
Itwasagoodquestion.Hesickenedandwasempty.Yes.Whatwillwedonights?hethought.
