Поющие в терновнике

           Thehumidityhaddroppedtwentypoints,thesunshoneoutofaskysuddenlyblueinsteadofsteamilywhite,thewatershedrearedgreen,purpleandlilacbeyondthetown.Disciplinehadrelaxed,everyoneseemedtobetakingthedayofftoplaycricket,walkaround,teasethenativestomakethemlaughanddisplaytheirblood-red,toothlessgums,theresultofchewingbetelnut.JimsandPatsywerestrollingthroughthetallgrassbeyondthetown,foritremindedthemofDrogheda;itwasthesamebleached,tawnycolor,andlongthewayDroghedagrasswasafteraseasonofheavyrain.

           "Won’tbelongnowuntilwe’reback,Patsy,"saidJims."We’vegottheNipsontherun,andJerry,too.Home,Patsy,hometoDrogheda!Icanhardlywait."

           "Yair,"saidPatsy.

           Theywalkedshouldertoshoulder,muchcloserthanwaspermissiblebetweenordinarymen;theywouldtoucheachothersometimes,notconsciouslybutasamantoucheshisownbody,torelieveamilditchorabsentlyassurehimselfitisstillallthere.HowniceitwastofeelgenuinelysunnysunontheirfacesinsteadofamoltenballinaTurkishbath!Everysooftentheywouldlifttheirmuzzlestothesky,flaretheirnostrilstotakeinthescentofhotlightonDrogheda-likegrass,dreamalittlethattheywerebackthere,walkingtowardawilgainthedazeofnoontoliedownthroughtheworstofit,readabook,drowse.Rollover,feelthefriendly,beautifulearththroughtheirskins,senseamightyheartbeatingawaydownundersomewhere,likeamother’shearttoasleepybaby.