"Thomas M. Disch - After Pottsville" - читать интересную книгу автора (Disch Thomas M)

you suddenly remember anyone from a long time ago. You were a friend of his,
maybe that’s why."

"A friend? Not really."

Terry Goren had blown his brains out with a shotgun in the Gorens’ garage. No
one ever knew why, officially, though George had a good idea.

"Such a crazy thing to do," said Deborah. "I could never understand it. He
must of been unhappy with Postville."

"Uh-huh."

"Some people don’t fit in."

"Right."

"But he could of gone to Chicago, like Sharon Gates. She’s got a good job
there now, better than any you could get in Postville."

George nodded vigorously and swallowed the last of his pie. It was time to be
getting back to the feed store.

"I don’t understand how someone could do that."

"Uh-huh." George took three bills from his wallet and laid them on the
counter. Then a quarter on top, his tip.

"I can understand someone leaving Postville for a better job. Unless you work
for the Jews there’s no jobs here. Unless, maybe, a teacher. But I don’t see
myself as a teacher. I don’t have the patience."

"The Jews aren’t the problem," said George. "The Mexicans are the problem.
This whole state is going to become another goddamn Mexico."

"Language," chided Deborah.

"A Mexico with snow."

"Well, just be glad you don’t have kids. They’re the ones that will bear the
brunt."

"I do have kids."

"Well, yeah. But not in Postville. Not anymore."

George pushed himself up from the counter and reached inside his pants to
adjust his boxer shorts.

"Hey," said Deborah. "The men’s room is over there."