Читать книгу Dreaming of Babylon - Richard Brautigan - Страница 22

The Boss

Hurray, I had a loaded gun! In a few hours I would be able to meet my client with confidence in my step. I wondered what they wanted me to do that required a gun. Oh, well, beggars can’t be choosers. I really needed the money.

I was going to ask for fifty dollars expense money. That would go a long way in changing my circumstances. I could get the landlady off my back with a few bucks. I didn’t think that story I fed her about oil wells in Rhode Island had much longevity. I figured by the time I got back to the apartment, she’d be howling away like a banshee.

I had some time to kill, so I walked up the street to Portsmouth Square and sat down on a bench near the statue dedicated to Robert Louis Stevenson.

A lot of Chinese were coming and going in the park. I watched them for a while. Interesting people. Very energetic. I wondered if anyone had ever told them that they looked just like Japanese and it was not a good time to look like Japanese.

That didn’t have anything to do with me any more because my war was over, so I thought, sitting there on a park bench in San Francisco, letting the world go by. I had a loaded gun in my pocket and a client that was willing to pay for my services.

The world wasn’t such a bad place, so I started thinking about Babylon. Why not? I didn’t have anything else to do for a couple of hours. It couldn’t hurt. I’d just have to be very careful about dreaming of Babylon. I wouldn’t let it get the best of me. I’d stay on top of it. That’s what I would do.

I’d show Babylon who was boss.