"Michael Scott Rohan - Chase the Morning" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rohan Michael Scott)

Jyp and Myrko were looking just as crestfallen.
'Hey, c'mon,' protested Jyp, creasing up his young-old face. T was goin'
to give you a party - I owe you, remember? Can't leave me feeling like an
ungrateful louse, can you? And Katjka all limbering up for it, too! Sit down!
Stay! You're among friends!' That almost got me, that last word. Among friends
-I was, I felt it, as I hardly ever had all my life. I faltered. Ahead of me
that light was changing again, and all of me longed to put my foot down and
race through it - away, out, into that dreaming sunset, chasing some new dream
of my own. Some kind of fulfilment I couldn't imagine -something to fill up
the shell ...
But I felt the twinge in my arm as I drew on my shirt, and my own blood
stuck it clammily against my skin. I stamped on the brake. No more rushing in,
not tonight. 'I know. I'm sorry. Another time, maybe, but -I've got to go. If
I can find my car, that is. I parked it in Tampere Street, wherever that is
from here.'
For a moment I was horribly afraid they would all ask what a car was. But
Jyp, though he was obviously hurt and disappointed, said casually, 'Okay,
Steve. I understand. Another time it is. Suppose I should be getting back to
the warehouse myself. Tampere, right, that's back behind here, round the
corner ahead, past the big old bonded store, first left then right, right
again and straight down; at the end you'll see it. Got that? I'll come show
you the way.'
'If it's that simple, I'll manage, thanks. You get back to your work. I
don't want to make things hard for you. And thanks - thanks for the puncture
repair, Katjka. And - and the drink, Myrko ... Thanks, all of you -' I was
sounding like an idiot. I was nervous, I didn't want to offend these weird,
warm people. Myrko just grunted, but Katjka smiled.
'All right, Stefan. Make it soon, hah?'
'Yah,' laughed Jyp, 'while I've still got some dough!'
'Whether he has or not,' said Katjka calmly.
Jyp turned on her with his bony jaw dropping; she menaced him with her fist,
and he turned back to me. He looked me up and down a moment, as if sizing me
up anew. 'Yah, you come back, you hear? One way or t'other I'll bet you will.
And hey, be you looking for me, you can't find me, you ask for Jyp the Pilot,
right? Just that. Jyp the Pilot. Ask anyone, they all know me. Anyone, right!
Be seeing you, Steve.' He leaped up and wrung my hand with startling strength.
'And thanks, man; thanks!'
I stopped at the door, and looked back, reluctant. It seemed dark and
cold out there, and I didn't want to let this fragile shred of life and colour
go so easily forever. What chance is there you'll ever come back to a dream?
Myrko had vanished into the shadows, Jyp had his head in Katjka's lap, but it
was me she was watching. She smiled, and inhaled slowly. I looked down, and
lifted the latch. The door creaked twice, and I was exiled into the sea-wind,
bitterly cold and heavy with harbour stenches and the last few drops of rain.
Hastily I raised my collar, and it whipped the points about my ears in
mockery. The cobbles glistened and glittered now under a newly clear moon, and
I had no trouble seeing my way. I turned once to look back, but the wind
dashed stinging salt into my eyes and hurried me on with invisible hands.
Jyp's directions were straightforward enough. Which was just as well, for
there was nobody else to ask; the streets still seemed to be deserted. I saw