Читать книгу Other Side of the Moon - R. A. Lafferty - Страница 4

Johnny O’Conner got off at the same corner every night. Everyone got off at the same corner every night. The old joker with the face like an egg, the noble-nosed Nabob, the stylish old girl who looked like a lady lawyer, all got off at Rambush Street. The wacky Dude who looked like a barber, the nice, plain, blonde girl, the little man who reminded you of an onion, all got off at Scottsboro. And Pauline Potter, fat George Gregoff, the antiseptic Gentleman with a contempt of the world, and Johnny O’Conner himself, always got off at Terhune. This was invariable. Other people got off at other places, but always at the same places.

When Johnny got off, he always ducked into the Loco Club, had a Vodka Collins, then walked the half-block home. Sheila was waiting, and supper was ready in about twelve minutes.

But one night a week ago it had been different. The bus stopped at Scottsboro. The wacky Dude who looked like a barber, the little man who reminded you of an onion, both got off. But the nice, plain, blonde girl just sat there.

“Scottsboro, Miss,” said the driver.

“Thank you,” said the plain blonde girl, but she just sat there.

“You always get off at Scottsboro, Miss,” said the driver.

“Not tonight,” said the girl.

So the bus went on, but everybody was uneasy from the incident. The normal order of the world had fallen apart.