"Barry Longyear - Dark Corners" - читать интересную книгу автора (Longyear Barry)

“My name is Ted and Ah’m a gr-r-rateful recoverin’ lycanthropic.”

“Hi, Ted!” answered the twenty or so men and women seated in the conference room on the ground
floor of an otherwise locked up office building. As Lyle examined the faces seated in the circle, he was
uneasy. Everyone in there looked just like regular humans. Minority representation, old, young, male,
female, neckties and tie-dyes. What made him uneasy was that everyone in the room, with the sole
exception of himself, believed him or herself to be a werewolf.

The one called Ted cleared his throat, which sounded a bit like a growl to Lyle, then he smiled and said,
“Welcome all tew the Hair of the Dog Group of Lycanthropics Anonymous.” Ted spoke with just a
touch of Scottish brogue. “We’ll all open the meetin’ with a moment of silence followed by the Serenity
Prayer.”
During the moment of silence Lyle swore that the young lady sitting to his right was panting while a young
man sitting on the opposite side of the circle was scratching behind his ear, although only with a finger.
Lyle started having an almost uncontrollable urge to laugh out loud. His defenses began crumbling when
he heard someone to his far left sniffing. He didn’t look. Lyle believed that if he caught a glimpse of one
of them sniffing the butt of another, he would lose it altogether. Just thinking about the possible flea
problem made tears come to his eyes and he covered his face hoping that at the worst he might look like
he was crying.

While they recited the Serenity Prayer (God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference), Lyle felt a friendly hand (paw?)
petting the back of his head. He thought he would pop an artery and he decided that he would have to
leave the meeting. Before he could go into action, however, the man chairing the meeting began speaking
again.

“This is a special anniversary meetin’ tonight. Allyson is celebratin’ one whole year without turnin’.” Loud
applause followed Ted’s remarks accompanied by some whistling and some rather distinct howling. The
woman to Lyle’s right seemed to have increased her panting. Lyle noted that her tongue wasn’t hanging
out. He wondered if her real problem was asthma.

“Allyson will be our speaker for the first part of the meetin’,” Ted announced, “then after the break we’ll
have our sharin’ session. Before we get started, are there any newcomers to the group?”

One hand went up. It was a man of about thirty-five with wads of shaggy black chest hair showing above
the neck of his faded red tee shirt. He had an under bite like a steam shovel. “I’m Waldo,” he almost
growled. “I’m a recovering lycanthropic. I just got out of treatment and this is my first meeting.”

A round of welcomes greeted Waldo, then a few faces turned in Lyle’s direction. Lyle shrugged to hide
his embarrassment and grinned as he held up his hand. “I’m Lyle and I’m just new here.”

“Hi, Lyle,” greeted the group. “Welcome.”

Red-faced, Lyle managed to nod in return as he lowered his hand to his lap and focused his gaze on the
floor in the center of the circle of chairs. Two latecomers entered and took their places in the chairs to
Lyle’s far left. As Ted resumed the program by having members of the circle read the Steps and