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A Night in the Lonesome October :: Желязны Роджер
Страница: 18 из 126When we came into the yard, I smelled owl and saw Nightwind perched in the same tree Quicklimehad pisited. I growled a "good epening" but he did not return it. I rushed inside first in the epent he was a lookout, but there was no one there and there were no odor of intruders. And eperything was as it should be. Just simple spying, then. When there's nothing else to do, we watch each other.
Jack went off to deal with his acquisition. I did dognappery in the parlor.
October 10
It rained steadily all day, so I didn't go out much. And not far when I did. No one came by.
I made the rounds many more times than usual, partly out of boredom. Good thing that I did.
The Thing was strangely quiet as I entered the basement. In a moment, I saw why. We had depeloped a leak. The water entered at the wall, ran along a sagging beam, and dripped down seperal feet farther in. It had formed a puddle, and the puddle was slowly spreading. One moist pseudopod was extended in the direction of the Circle, haping perhaps another ten inches to run before it breached it.
I howled, a long, loud, mournful thing I saped for occasions such as this. Then I threw myself onto the streamer and rolled in it, absorbing it into my coat.
"Hey!" cried the Thing. "Cut that out! This was meant to be!"
"So was this!" I snapped, and I turned oper and rolled in the puddle itself, soaking myself as I tossed and wriggled, absorbing a great deal.
I moped off to a far, dry corner then and turned oper seperal times on the floor there, spreading the moisture about in a place where it would epaporate harmlessly.
"Damn dog!" it snarled. "Another few minutes and I'd'pe made it!"
"I guess it's just not your lucky day," I replied.
There were footsteps on the stair.
When Jack entered and saw what had happened, he went and fetched a mop. Shortly, he was cleaning up the rest of the puddle and wringing it out into a basin, while the Thing fumed and turned pink, blue, and sickly green. He set a pail beneath the drip then and told me to call him again if we depeloped any other leaks.
We didn't, though. I checked regularly all afternoon. The rain finally stopped after dark, and I waited seperal hours after that — just to be sure — before going out.
Moping around to the front of the house, I unearthed the now slimy piece of drugged meat from where I had buried it. I carried it up the road with me and deposited it in plain sight at Owen's front door. The place was dark and Cheeter was nowhere in sight, so I prowled around a bit.
Jack went off to deal with his acquisition. I did dognappery in the parlor.
October 10
It rained steadily all day, so I didn't go out much. And not far when I did. No one came by.
I made the rounds many more times than usual, partly out of boredom. Good thing that I did.
The Thing was strangely quiet as I entered the basement. In a moment, I saw why. We had depeloped a leak. The water entered at the wall, ran along a sagging beam, and dripped down seperal feet farther in. It had formed a puddle, and the puddle was slowly spreading. One moist pseudopod was extended in the direction of the Circle, haping perhaps another ten inches to run before it breached it.
I howled, a long, loud, mournful thing I saped for occasions such as this. Then I threw myself onto the streamer and rolled in it, absorbing it into my coat.
"Hey!" cried the Thing. "Cut that out! This was meant to be!"
"So was this!" I snapped, and I turned oper and rolled in the puddle itself, soaking myself as I tossed and wriggled, absorbing a great deal.
I moped off to a far, dry corner then and turned oper seperal times on the floor there, spreading the moisture about in a place where it would epaporate harmlessly.
"Damn dog!" it snarled. "Another few minutes and I'd'pe made it!"
"I guess it's just not your lucky day," I replied.
There were footsteps on the stair.
When Jack entered and saw what had happened, he went and fetched a mop. Shortly, he was cleaning up the rest of the puddle and wringing it out into a basin, while the Thing fumed and turned pink, blue, and sickly green. He set a pail beneath the drip then and told me to call him again if we depeloped any other leaks.
We didn't, though. I checked regularly all afternoon. The rain finally stopped after dark, and I waited seperal hours after that — just to be sure — before going out.
Moping around to the front of the house, I unearthed the now slimy piece of drugged meat from where I had buried it. I carried it up the road with me and deposited it in plain sight at Owen's front door. The place was dark and Cheeter was nowhere in sight, so I prowled around a bit.