"Eddings, David - Regina's Song V2.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Eddings David)

job."
"It's full-time, isn't it?" I replied.
"Of course it is," he replied sardonically. "A guy who
works by the hour paces himself to make the job fit the
time. If you bear down, I'll bet you could finish up in four
or five hours a night, and if it starts to pile up, you could
clear away the leftovers on Saturday."
"And if you're really serious about getting an
education, you can live at home and commute to the
university," my mom added. "Your dad and I can't send
you to Harvard, but we can give you a place to live and
regular meals. That way, you won't have to rent an
apartment or buy groceries."
"Our big brother's going to get away from us after all,"
one of the twins lamented in mock sorrow.
"Nothing lasts forever, Twink," I told her.
"Who's going to tie our little shoes?" the other twin
said. "Or glove our little hands?" the first girl added.
"You'll both survive," I told them. "Be brave and strong
and true, and you'll get by."
They stuck their tongues out at me in perfect unison.
"This is going to crowd you, Mark," Les warned me.
"You won't have very much free time. Don't make the
same mistake I made when I went there. I managed to
party my way onto the flunk-out list in just two years.”
“I'm not big on parties, boss," I assured him. "Listening
to a bunch of half-drunk guys ranting about who's going
to make it to the Rose Bowl doesn't thrill me. We can
give the university a try I guess, and if it doesn't work
out-ah, well."
I filled in the gaps on my transcript that summer, and
on a bright September morning, I drove down to the
University of Washington to register. After I'd plodded
through all the bureaucratic nonsense, I wandered the
beaten paths to knowledge for a while-long beaten
paths, I might add, since the campus measures about a
mile in every direction. I finally found Padelford Hall,
home of the English Department. After I'd located my
classrooms, I drove back to Everett to get to work.
I took a stab at the "full-bore" business the boss had
mentioned, and I found that he was right. I cleared
everything away in just under five hours. That made me
feel better.
Classes began the following Monday, and my first
class, American Literature, started at eight-thirty. There
was a kind of stricken silence in the classroom when the
instructor entered. "It's Conrad!" I heard a strangled
whisper just behind me.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," the white-
haired professor said crisply. "Your regularly scheduled