"James Van Pelt - A Flock Of Birds" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pelt James Van)

image of the new bird, but he'd have to transfer it to the computer where he
could study it.


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Tillie was in bed. Beside her, on the night stand, were packets of seeds. She
hadn't moved them since he'd brought them to her in the spring. The television
was on. There were, of course, no broadcasts, so gray snow filled the screen,
and the set softly hissed. Carson turned it off, darkening the room. Sun light
leaked around the closed curtains, but after the brightness outside, he could
barely see. In the silence, Tillie's breathing rasped. He tiptoed around her
bed to put his hand to her forehead. Distinctly warm. She didn't move when he
touched her.
"Tillie?" he said.
She mumbled but didn't open her eyes.
Carson turned on her reading light, painting her face in highlights and sharp
shadows. He knelt beside her. Her lips were parted slightly, and she licked
them before taking her next rattling breath. He wanted to jostle her awake.
She slept so poorly most nights that he resisted. The fever startled him. As
long as it was just a cough, he hadn't worried much. A cough, that could be a
cold or an allergy. But a fever, that was a red flag. He remembered all the
home defense brochures with their sobering titles: Family Triage and Know Your
Symptoms. "Tillie, I need to check your chest."
His fingers shook as he pulled the blanket away from her chin. Her neck was
clammy, and underneath the covers she was sweating. She smelled warm and damp.
Clumsily he unbuttoned her nightgown's top buttons, then he moved the light so
he could see better. No rash. She wasn't wearing a bra, so he could see that
the tops of her breasts looked smooth. "Tillie?" he whispered, really not
wanting to wake her. Her eyes moved under her eyelids. Maybe she dreamed of
other places, the places she would never talk to him about. Gently he rubbed
his fingertips over the skin below her collarbones. No boils. No "bumpy
swellings" the brochures described.
Tillie mumbled again. "Bob Robert," she said.
"I'll get some aspirin and water." He pulled the blanket back up. She didn't
move.
"You're nice," she said, but her head was turned away, and he wasn't sure if
she was talking to him or continuing a conversation in her dream.
As he poured water from a bottle in the refrigerator, he realized that it
would be difficult to tell if Tillie became delirious. If she started talking
sense, then he'd have to worry about her.


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The distribution manager had said to come back the next day, so there was
nothing to do other than to give her aspirin and keep her comfortable. She
woke up enough to take the medicine, but closed her eyes immediately. Carson