"Marta Randall - The Dark Boy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Randall Marta)

“El Arco,” Al Scott shouted over the outboard’s bellow, pointing to a
tremendous arch carved in the tip of the narrowing peninsula, the Pacific’s dark
waters visible through it. The image was on almost every postcard she had seen.
Ahead, two great gray spires rose from the water. “Lover’s Beach,” Scott shouted,
pointing toward a strip of sand. The kids laughed and elbowed each other.

Sea lions basked on rocks, pelicans swooped after the fishing boats. When
she had flown in, the thinning peninsula and the rocks had made Nancy think of
reddish paint splattered over the blue sea, a trailing line and drips. The Zodiacs
rounded the point. Waves kicked up and the ride roughened. They turned north a
little and west, until the land was a smudged line on the horizon. The color of the sky
was different here. The Zodiacs neared each other and the guides shouted, boat to
boat. The boats slowed.

“Now we wait,” the guide said. “We wait and watch.” The outboards
muttered, idling. The kids had been subdued since they reached the Pacific; now
they stared at the sea on all sides. Water lifted the boats and dropped them again, an
unsteady rhythm. From the corner of her eye, Nancy saw Al Scott’s head move as
he watched the students, not the water. It felt peaceful here, between two shades of
blue.

“All,” the dark boy said. In the distance a whale’s tail reared into the sky and
slid away. The kids gasped. Another tail followed the first. The motors idled and the
kids described the tails to each other: they were black, no they were gray, no they
had white on them, big white stripes. No they didn’t.

“No barfing so far,” Scott said with satisfaction. “That’s one thing gone right
at least. Goddamned cook quit, one set of luggage lost, government permissions
aren’t here yet.” He spat over the Zodiac’s side. “Goddamned cook.”

The kids’ chatter fell into silence. Nancy leaned against the side of the boat.
The water rose and fell and rose, all the way out of sight beyond the curve of the
world. Just water, rising and falling and rising again since time began and out until
time ended. At the boat’s side the water glittered. Ginny would have liked this.

On the other boat, a boy and girl shouted at each other. Nancy sat up. She
couldn’t make out the words. Scott cursed and said something in rapid Spanish to
the guide; the outboard roared and they moved toward the other boat.

“I told her he’s a dick,” a girl near Nancy said. The wind had flattened her
spiked orange hair.

“Don’t you make trouble,” Scott said to her. “I have enough of that.”

They butted against the other boat. The guides held them together while Scott
clambered across the sides, fired off questions, and sent the boy of the couple back
to Nancy’s boat, while Scott took his place. The boats pulled apart.

“Pig,” the same girl muttered.