Поющие в терновнике

           Dead?Oh,dearLord!"

           "Don’tbotheraboutyourdearLord,Ralph,"saidthestrangersittingoppositehim."Youhavemoreimportantthingstodo.Icametoaskforyourhelp—nottowitnessyourgrief.I’vehadallthosehoursintheairtogooverthewayI’dtellyouthis,allthosehoursjuststaringoutthewindowatthecloudsknowingDaneisdead.Afterthat,yourgriefhasnopowertomoveme."

           Yetwhenheliftedhisfacefromhishandsherdeadcoldheartbounded,twisted,leaped.ItwasDane’sface,withasufferingwrittenuponitthatDanewouldneverlivetofeel.Oh,thankGod!ThankGodhe’sdead,cannevernowgothroughwhatthismanhas,whatIhave.Betterhe’sdeadthantosuffersomethinglikethis.

           "HowcanIhelp,Meggie?"heaskedquietly,suppressinghisownemotionstodonthesoul-deepguiseofherspiritualcounselor.

           "Greeceisinchaos.They’veburiedDanesomewhereonCrete,andIcan’tfindoutwhere,when,why.ExceptIsupposethatmyinstructionsdirectingthathebeflownhomewereendlesslydelayedbythecivilwar,andCreteishotlikeAustralia.Whennooneclaimedhim,Isupposetheythoughthehadnoone,andburiedhim."Sheleanedforwardinherchairtensely."Iwantmyboyback,Ralph,Iwanthimfoundandbroughthometosleepwherehebelongs,onDrogheda.IpromisedJimsI’dkeephimonDroghedaandIwill,ifIhavetocrawlonmyhandsandkneesthrougheverygraveyardonCrete.NofancyRomanpriest’stombforhim,Ralph,notaslongasI’malivetoputupalegalbattle.