"Laymon, Richard - DarknessTellUs" - читать интересную книгу автора (Laymon Richard)

"That's enough," Dr. Dalton told him. She said to Lana, "Hey, we're here to have a good time. If your heart's set on fooling around with that thing, be my guest. But just keep me out of it. A deal?"
"Sure! Great! OK, who's going to do it with me?"
"I'll do it with you any chance I get," Keith said.
He probably _does_, Howard thought.
Ignoring the remark, Lana asked Dr. Dalton, "How many can play at a time?"
"Up to four, I guess. More than that, it would get awfully crowded around the board."
"OK. We need two more hearty volunteers."
"Include me in," Doris said.
Keith looked as if he would rather "include in" a wad of used toilet paper, but he made no protest.
"That's three," Lana said. "One more. Any takers?"
Howard looked around. Professor Dalton was shaking her head. He saw Glen over in a corner, stuffing potato chips into his mouth. Angela was sitting at the far end of the sofa, hands folded on her lap, gazing into space.
I probably ought to go over and sit with her, he thought. He hadn't really spent much time with Angela tonight. She might think he was trying to ignore her.
But God, she was so weird. As if she were from a different planet or something, and longed for home.
Keith slapped Howard on the shoulder. Harder than necessary. "Join the fun, Howitzer. You can play kneesies with Doris."
He looked at Lana. "Is it OK with you?"
"Sure. Why wouldn't it be?"
He shrugged, feeling a little dumb for asking Lana's permission.
"So, Corie, how do we play?"
Before she could answer, Doris said, "I've done it before."
"Where'd you find a blind guy?" Keith asked.
"Oh, that's rich, Mr. Harris. It's wonderful that you've achieved the capability of amusing yourself with quips of such startling inanity."
"Oink," he said.
Lana swung her arm out. The back of her fist whapped Keith's chest. It struck his left pectoral, a solid mound under his clinging shirt, with a sound like a mallet smacking raw beef. "Knock it off," she said.
Dr. Dalton raised her eyebrows. Her lips, pressed together tightly, were turned down at the corners. Howard had seen that expression before. She was delighted that Lana had given Keith a thump. Delighted, but determined to keep her grin in check.
"I have a card table in the kitchen," she said. "Why don't we bring it out here so the rest of us can keep an eye on you."
They went into the small, tidy kitchen. Dr. Dalton scooted chairs away from the table. She folded one of them. As she handed it to Howard, she gave him the special look. A look she never gave anyone but him. He returned his version of it. Not a wink, but it seemed to hold the meaning of a wink: they were secretly sharing a wry amusement at the antics of the others. _What are a couple of folks like us doing in the midst of all this?_
He felt himself blush. He supposed he always blushed when she looked at him that way.
She handed chairs to Doris and Lana, then squatted down and tugged at a metal cuff to release one of the table's folding legs.
Howard saw the way her white shorts were drawn taut against the smooth curves of her rump. Her blouse was stretched across her back. Through its fabric, he could see the pink hue of her skin and the bands of her bra.
His throat tightened. His heart pounded faster and he felt a tight pressure in his groin.
Turning away, he carried his chair toward the den.
He'd taken this special summer session class for only one reason: to be in Dr. Dalton's presence. He'd taken so many of her classes during his three years at Belmore University. But they were never enough. Ever since she'd stepped to the lectern on his first morning of freshman English, he'd been captivated by her. She was just so beautiful, so smart and funny, so caring.
She liked him a lot, too. He knew that.
But he also knew that she didn't think of him as a possible lover. Never would. A, he'd been born nine years too late. Not an overwhelming age difference, but still a barrier. B, he was only a rung or two up the ladder from being a nerd. C, Dr. Dalton was a loner who didn't seem interested in any men, much less wimpy twenty-one-year-olds.
Just be glad she's your friend, he told himself.
But an awful feeling of loss swept through him as he set the chair down in the den. Dr. Dalton's party tonight marked the end of the summer session. Howard would be packing tomorrow, flying home the day after. He wouldn't be seeing her again until the fall semester, nearly two months away.
As the others came in with chairs and the table, he found himself regretting that he'd agreed to join in. Dr. Dalton had no intention of messing with the Ouija. If he'd refused, he could be spending the time with her.
Keith held the table steady on its edge while Dr. Dalton snapped its legs into place. He flipped it upright, and she directed him to position it near the center of the living room.
Keith sat across from Lana, Howard across from Doris.
Lana was shaking open the box when Glen came over, a heap of potato chips cupped in his hand. The floor stopped shaking when he halted behind Doris. He gazed down at the Ouija and poked a chip into his mouth.
"Would you like to take my place?" Howard asked.
"When they're ice skating in hell, pal."
"Very sensible," Dr. Dalton said.
Does she think I'm _not_ sensible? Howard wondered. No, she understands. She realizes I was pushed into this.
Maybe he could get Angela to take his place.
He looked toward the sofa. Angela was staring at him with those big, gloomy eyes.
"Angela?" he called. "Wouldn't you like to play?"
"Thank you, no."
"Quit trying to squirm out, Howitzer."
"I think you guys are nuts," Glen said. A wet fleck of chip flew from his mouth, sailed over Doris's head and landed on the Ouija. On the Y of the YES in its upper left-hand corner. Only Howard seemed to notice. "Didn't any of you read _The Exorcist_?"