День триффидов
Frustration
It’lltasteabitfunny-like,‘causeol’Charlieputashotofruminit,butIreckonyou’llnotmindthat."
Itookitfromhim,holdingitwithsomedifficultybetweenmyboundhands.Itwasstrongandsweet,andtherumhadn’tbeenstinted.Thetastemightbequeer,butitworkedliketheelixiroflifeitself.
"Thanks,"Isaid."You’reamiracleworker.Myname’sBill."His,itseemed,wasAll.
"What’stheline,Alf?Whatgoesonhere?"Iaskedhim.HesatdownonthesideofthebedandheldOutapacketofcigaretteswithaboxofmatches.Itookone,litthefirst,thenmyown,andgavehimbackthebox.
"It’sthisway,mate,"hesaid."Youknowtherewasabitofashindyupattheuniversityyesterdaymorning—maybeyouwasthere?"
ItoldhimI’dseenit.
"Well,afterthatlark,Coker—he’sthechapwhatdidthetalking—hegotkindapeeved.‘Hokay,’‘esays,nasty-like.‘The——s’veaskedforit.Iputitto‘emfairandsquareinthefirstplace.Nowtheycantakewhat’scomm’tothem.’Well,we’dmetupwithacoupleofotherfellersandoneoldgirlwhatcanstillsee,an’theyfixeditallupbetweenthem.He’salad,thatCoker."
"Youmean—heframedthewholebusiness—therewasn’tanyfireoranything?"Iasked.
"Fire—myauntFanny!Whattheydonewasfixupatripwireortwo,lightalotofpapersandsticksinthehail,an’startinringingtheol’bell.
