"Stephen Goldin - The Last Ghost & Other Stories" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goldin Stephen)

A writer's career, like life itself, is a journey. Like artists and philosophers, writers tend to spend more
time admiring the scenery than people just hurrying through. Something catches our eye, and we stop to
examine it awhile before moving on — and in the process of examination, our lives and our perspectives
are irrevocably changed.
These stories are stops I made along my particular journey, vista points on my personal path. If I
stumbled across something pleasant, I smiled and made a note. If I saw something disturbing, that too
was recorded.
I seemed to find them in about an even mix. Some of the stories in here are intended to be funny. Some
are intended to be not funny. I hope I'm a good enough writer for you to tell which are which.
Stephen Goldin
November 1999


Ghosts, Girls, and Other Phantasms

Sweet Dreams, Melissa

This first appeared in Galaxy, December 1968.
It had an interesting genesis. I'd sold my first story, "The Girls On USSF 193," (the next story in
this volume) in 1965 and was feeling very proud of myself. I was a Pro. I had sold a story. For
three years I coasted on that. A friend of mine also wanted to write, and I gave him a cast-off
idea, which he then sold. Well, that was fine; my protege was doing well, even if it was one of my
old ideas. Then, one spring afternoon, he called me to say he'd just sold his second story. I
congratulated him through gritted teeth, and as soon as I could politely get off the phone I pushed
everything else aside and started writing. Within twenty-four hours, "Sweet Dreams Melissa" was
written and mailed off. It sold to the first place I sent it. My friend is now a very successful doctor
of optometry.
"Sweet Dreams, Melissa" is my most successful story, reprinted and anthologized numerous times.

From out of her special darkness, Melissa heard the voice of Dr. Paul speaking in hushed tones at the far
end of the room. "Dr. Paul/' she cried. "Oh, Dr. Paul, please come here!" Her voice took on a desperate
whine.
Dr. Paul's voice stopped, then muttered something. Melissa heard his footsteps approach her. "Yes,
Melissa, what is it?" he said in deep, patient tones.
"I'm scared, Dr. Paul."
"More nightmares?"
"Yes."
"You don't have to worry about them, Melissa. They won't hurt you."
"But they're scary," Melissa insisted. "Make them stop. Make them go away like you always do."
Another voice was whispering out in the darkness. It sounded like Dr. Ed. Dr. Paul listened to the
whispers, then said under his breath, "No, Ed, we can't let it go on like this. We're way behind schedule
as it is." Then aloud, "You'll have to get used to nightmares sometime, Melissa. Everybody has them. I
won't always be here to make them go away."
"Oh, please don't go."
"I'm not going yet, Melissa. Not yet. But if you don't stop worrying about these nightmares, I might have
to. Tell me what they were about."
"Well, at first I thought they were the numbers, which are all right because the numbers don't have to do
with people, they're nice and gentle and don't hurt nobody like in the nightmares. Then the numbers
started to change and became lines — two lines of people, and they were all running towards each other
and shooting at each other. There were rifles and tanks and howitzers. And people were dying, too, Dr.