"James Patrick Kelly - The Edge of Nowhere" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kelly James Patrick)

Nobody knew where the cognisphere was located exactly, or even if it occupied physical space at all.
"All right then, don't." Rain shrugged and pocketed the whistle.

Will seemed disappointed in her. He obviously had three hundred things he wanted to say -- and she was
supposed to listen. He had always been an excitable boy, although Rain hadn't seen him this wound up
since the first time they had made love. But this was neither the time nor the place for feverish
speculation. She put a finger to her lips and nodded toward the cookie counter.

Mrs. Snopes picked out a four gram, elongated piece of banana oatmeal cookie ornamented with cream
and cinnamon hallucinogenic sprinkles. She paid for it with the story of how her sister Melva had run
away from home when she was eleven and they had found her two days later sleeping in the neighbor's
treehouse. They had heard the story before, but not the part about the hair dryer. Fast Eddie earned an
audience credit on the Barrows's Memory Exchange but the cognisphere deposited an extra quarter
point into Mrs. Snopes's account for the new detail, according the Laughing Cookie's MemEx register.
Afterward, Fast Eddie insisted that Rain admire the banana oatmeal crumb before he wrapped it up for
Mrs. Snopes. Rain had to agree it was quite striking. She said it reminded her of Emily Dickinson.




They closed the Very Memorial Library early. Usually after work, Will and Rain swept some of Eddie's
cookie dust into a baggie and went looking for a spot to picnic. Their favorites were the overlook at the
southwestern edge of town and the roof of the Button Factory, although on a hot day they also liked the
mossy coolness of the abandoned fallout shelter.

But not this unhappy day. Almost as soon as they stepped onto Onion Street, they were fighting. First
she suggested that Will show her his book. Then he said not yet and asked if she had any idea why the
dogs were asking about it. Then she said no -- perhaps a jot too emphatically -- because he apparently
understood her to be puzzled as to why dogs should care about a nobody like him. Then he wondered
aloud if maybe she wasn't just a little jealous, which she said was a dumb thing to say, which he took
exactly the wrong way.

Will informed her icily that he was going home because he needed to make changes to Chapter Four.
Alarmed at how their row had escalated, Rain suggested that maybe they could meet later. He just
shrugged and turned away. Stung, she watched him jog down Onion Street.

Later, maybe -- being together with Will had never sounded so contingent

Rain decided to blame the dogs. It was hard enough staying sane here in Nowhere, finding the courage
each day not to step off the edge. They didn't need yet another cancerous mystery eating at their lives.
And Will was just a kid, she reminded herself. Nineteen, male, impulsive, too smart for his own good, but
years from being wise. Of course he was entitled to his moods. She'd always waited him out before,
because even though he made her toes curl in frustration sometimes, she did love the boy.

In the meantime, there was no way around it: she'd have to ask Chance Conrad about The Last
President. She took a right onto Abbey Road, nodding curtly at the passersby. She knew what most
people thought about her: that she was impatient and bitter and that she preferred books to people. Of
course, they were all wrong, but she had given up trying to explain herself. She ignored Bingo Finn
slouching in the entrance to Goriot's Pachinko Palazzo and hurried past Linton's Fruit and Daily