"Eddings, David - High Hunt" - читать интересную книгу автора (High Hunt)

"I still think he had it coming to him," I insisted.

"I ain't arguin' that," Riker said. "Like as not he did. What I'm sayin', son, is that you're ashamed of yourself for bein' the one that come down on him like you done. I been watchin' you, and you ain't set easy since that hand. Funny thing about luck — it won't never come to a man who don't think he's got it comin'. Do yourself a favor and stay out of the game. You're only gonna lose from here on out."

I was going to argue with him, but I had the sudden cold certainty that he was right. I looked out at the dark ocean. "I guess maybe the bit about the pants was going a little too far," I admitted.

"Yeah," he said, "your buddy's watch woulda been plenty."

"Maybe I will stay out of the game," I said. "I'm about all pokered out anyway."

"Yeah," he said, "we'll be gettin' home pretty quick anyway."

"Couple, three days, I guess."

"Well," he said, "I'm gonna turn in. Been nice talkin' to you, son." He turned and walked off down the deck.

"Good night, Sergeant Riker," I called after him.

He waved his hand without looking back.

So I quit playing poker. I guess I've always been a sucker for fatherly advice. Somehow I knew that Riker was right though. Whatever the reason, I'd lost the feeling I'd had that the cards were going to fall my way no matter what anybody tried to do to stop them. If I'd have gone back the next day, they'd have cleaned me out. So the next day I watched the ocean, or read, and I didn't think about poker.

Two days later we slid into New York Harbor. It was early morning and foggy. We passed the Statue and then stacked up out in the bay, waiting for a tug to drag us the rest of the way in. We all stood out on deck watching the sun stumble up out of the thick banks of smoke to blearily light up the buildings on Manhattan Island.

It's a funny feeling, coming home when you don't really have anything to come home to. I leaned back against a bulkhead, watching all the other guys leaning over the rail. I think I hated every last one of them right then.

Two grubby tugboats finally came and nudged us across the bay to a pier over in Brooklyn. Early as it was, there must have been a thousand people waiting. There was a lot of waving and shouting back and forth, and then they all settled down to wait. The Army's good at that kind of thing.

Benson dragged his duffle bag up to where I was and plunked it down on the deck. I still hadn't told him I had his watch. I didn't want him selling it again so he could get back in the game.

"Hey, Alders," he puffed, "I been lookin' for you all over this fuckin' tub."

"I've been right here, kid."

"Feels good, gettin' home, huh?" he said.

"It's still a long way to Seattle," I told him. His enthusiasm irritated hell out of me.

"You know what I mean."

"Sure."

"You think maybe they might fly us out to the West Coast?"

"I doubt it," I said. "I expect a nice long train ride."

"Shit!" He sounded disgusted. "You're probably right though. The way my luck's been goin' lately, they'll probably make me walk."

"You're just feeling picked on."