"M. Rickert - Traitor" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rickert Mary)

Traitor
by M. Rickert

In the January 2008 issue of Locus magazine, M. Rickert remarked that
“I’ve noticed that I’m getting a lot from the news, not so much [story] ideas
as feelings. It’s almost like I can feel the characters and their emotions.”
Here she gives us a story that surely originated in just such a manner, a
timely speculation about the near future.

****

Alika with her braids of bells comes walking down the street, chewing
bubble gum and singing, “Who I am I’ll always be, God bless you and God
bless me, America, America, the land of the free!”

Rover says, “What’s that song you’re singing, Alika? That ain’t no
song.”

Alika, only nine, ignores him the same way she’s seen her mama
ignore the comments of men when she walks with her to the bus stop or the
Quickmart.

“Hey! I’m talking to you!” Rover says.

But Alika just walks on by and Rover just watches her pass. The girl is
only nine and he is nearly twelve. He shakes his head and looks down the
street in the other direction. Besides which, she is crazy. Shit, he spits at
the sidewalk. Damn! He can’t help it. He turns and watches her walking
away, her braids jangling.

“America! America! Oh, I love America! My beautiful country, my own
wonderful land, my homeland, America, loves me.”

Alika’s mom watches her and shakes her head. She drags her
cigarette. Smoke swirls from her nostrils and mouth. Her fingers, with the
long green painted nails, tremble.

Alika sees her sitting there on the stoop. “Hi, Mama!” she calls. The
bells ring as she comes running down the walk. Running right toward her
mama who sits there with smoke coming out of her ears and nose and
mouth.

“Hey, baby,” Alika’s mother says. “Where you been?”
 Alika stops in mid-running-step. Bells go brrring, brrring. She looks at
her mama. Her mama looks at her. A truck passes. Fans and
air-conditioners hum. Alika watches a bird fly into the branches of a tree,
disappear into the green.

“Alika? Where you been honey?”