"Ron Goulart - Conversations with My Knees" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goulart Ron)

“Bom dia, senhor,” said the first one, “we’re here to inquire after your
joelhos.”

“Your knees,” translated the second one.

“Oh, I’m doing just fine, better, actually, than I expected.” I remained
on my feet, smiling blandly. “Certainly nice of you guys to climb all the way
up here to ask about—”

“Roll up your pants above the knee,” ordered my right knee.

I obliged, far from certain why I was.

“What’s this tolo up to?” the other intruder asked of his partner.

“Now, dear boy, aim your left knee at the nearest Brazilian. We’ll do
the rest.”

“I see our cover story about being nothing more than concerned
neighbors isn’t going to work, senhor,” said the farthest agent as he
reached inside his blue blazer.

Before I could lift my foot high enough above the redwood deck to
aim at my target, the pant leg unrolled and covered the knee again.

“Nitwit,” remarked my other knee. “The dang ultrasonic beam won’t
work if the knee is covered.

“How the hell am I supposed to know that?” I reached down to tug up
the trouser leg again. “If you would be a shade more confiding, then we—”

“Senhor,” said the Brazilian who was now pointing a .38 revolver at
me, “we would very much like you to accompany us to our laboratory, se
faz favor, so that we can extract your knees and return to Rio with—”

“Aim your damn knee, dude.”

The second South American agent had produced a .45 automatic.
He, too, was pointing his gun at me. “We would prefer to perform that
operation there, but we are prepared to do the job, albeit in a cruder
fashion, right here.”

“Drop your weapons,” suggested someone up on my slanting red tile
roof.

I looked up to see a slim, red-haired woman of about thirty-five, clad
in a crisp nurse’s uniform, standing there with a .38 revolver in each hand.
“Nurse Munson,” I said loudly, “what are you doing on my roof?”

Ginger Munson had been my night nurse during my recent stay at the