"Alan Dean Foster - Into the Out Of" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

understand? Not unless you want a taste of my belt.”

“Sure, dad. I was only kidding. Hey, can we go soon?”

Vandorm straightened. “I know it's a little late for you to still be up, son, but this is more important than
anything they're teachin’ you in that damn school. This is an important moment in your life and I wanted
this to be a big night for you. You don't know how proud it makes me to have you here with me.”

“Yeah, sure, dad.” Mike's voice fell to a whisper.

“Anyway, your mom'll take you and Junior home soon. Me and BJ and Walter and Mr. Sutherlin got an
important meeting at the Sutherlins’ house tonight. Real important.” Vandorm puffed himself up like a
toad frog, trying to make himself look bigger than he really was, not only in his son's eyes but in BJ's as
well.

As he thought about the meeting the air of paternal affection vanished. His expression twisted into
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something blind and unintelligent and nasty, the sort of look an australopithecine might once have favored
an enemy with. It was prompted by a mixture of uncertainty, fear, and grim determination, all wrapped up
in a basket of bigotry nurtured by twenty years of menial jobs and hard times.

“Gonna besome meeting. Ain't it, BJ? We finally gonna do something besides talk.”

“Sure are,” agreed the simple man who'd taken the photograph. Instead of evil or viciousness, BJ's face
displayed nothing more complex than stolid anticipation.

Poor ol’ BJ Tree. He worked nights as a janitor at the Junior College in nearby Tupelo and when you
got right down to it, he didn't appear to have the brains God gave a crawfish. But he was of similar mind
and feelings as the rest of them, a lot stronger than you would think, and most important of all, he was
ready and willing to do what he was told.

The organization Vandorm and Conroy and Sutherlin had formed had plenty of use for a man like that.
The three of them had enough brains for four anyway, Vandorm thought with pride. None of the chapter
members suspected that there was a more committed subchapter operating in their midst.

“Can I go now, dad?”

“Sure, go on, git over to your mama.” Vandorm shook his head dolefully as he watched his son scamper
off toward the old Ford wagon parked at the far end of the line. “I dunno, BJ. Maybe he's still too young.
But I had to bring him. Got to do somethin’ to counteract all that crap they keep fillin’ his mind with at
that school. All that garbage about ecology and equality when they ought to be teachin’ the kids the
basics—reading and writing and good old American educational values. Got to look out for your own
kids these days. Commies and homosexuals running half the schools.”

“Don't I know it,” said BJ. That was BJ. Always agreeable. A crash sounded behind them and both men
turned to look. One of the arms of the cross had finally burned through and fallen, sending up a spray of