"Howard Waldrop & Leigh Kennedy - One Horse Town" - читать интересную книгу автора (Waldrop Howard)

Odysseus did to her temple in the city when he crept in one night. These Greeks have to be apologizing all
the time for their hubris.
Foolish with victory, Leo and I join the others in tearing down the gate instead of sleeping during the day.
We want the goddess's horse inside the city with us to help us celebrate the end of the ten long years of war.
Athena must be smiling on us because of what Odysseus did.
I don't feel tired. I feel happy. Up there on the gate, banging away at the lintel stone with a hammer, I can
see to the palace windows. Cassandra's window, particularly. There stands Cassandra, not sewing with her
mother, the queen. Not celebrating with the rest of the court.
She is watching.
I think she is watching me.

The little stone harbor at Sigeum smelled of fish, brine, dank seaweed, rope, and wood. Homer could feel the
change from beach to stones underfoot but the light was bright here, too bright, making him screw up his face
against the dazzle. This had been the location of the Greek camp during the Trojan war but Homer felt no
resonances here. It was too used; occupied by the present.
"Don't let the lad walk so close the edge!" his mother scolded.
His father grasped Homer's arm. "Stand there!" he said. "Don't go wandering. We've got to find the boat's
governor. It'll be easier for us to leave you here."
"Sit down," said his mother, nudging his shoulder down. "Less likely to wander on your bottom than on
your feet."
Homer sat, his ankles scraping on the uneven stones as he crossed his legs.
"Don't move!" his mother said again. Then she called for her younger children to follow.
Their footsteps faded. Homer listened to the slap of the water and the gentle tap of a boat tied below him
against the harbor wall. Sea birds shrieked high above, waiting for the fishermen to return. A big shape just
offshore was probably the ship his family wanted to board for their return journey to Smyrna. For a few
minutes, he enjoyed the peace. He stretched out to sunbathe and found a large pebble under his back. He
held it close to his eyes, almost touching his lashes, and could see fine grey textures, even a little sparkle.
Ah, beauty, he thought in wonder.
Then he heard footsteps again.
"He looks a bit simple, that's all," a man's voice said. "You're not drunk, are you, young man?"
Homer sat up and tried to face the voice but he couldn't sort it out from the wooden posts surrounding the
harbor. "No," he said. I'm not simple, either, he thought, but held his tongue.
A woman's voice murmured, accompanied by the sound of a baby's cooing.
Homer sat, frozen by the arrival of strangers. He always hated the moment when they noticed that
something was wrong with him.
They didn't seem interested in him. The man and woman spoke in low voices together in a fragmented
way, unable to keep a conversation going. Even the baby remained quiet. Then the woman started to cry. His
presence forgotten, Homer might as well have been a harbor statue.
"How can you leave us now!" she said. "You are my only family now. I'll have nothing, no one, except our
son."
Homer's hearing grew sharper. He remained absolutely still, fastened on the voices at his back.
"You know I have to go, love," the man said defensively. "If I stay, you won't have any honor anyway.
Look, I understand how hard this is for you. But you'll be proud of me once I've done my duty. Everything will
be different." He seemed to try to sound soothing, almost light-hearted.
"Yes, I'm sure it will be different!" she said angrily in a choked voice.
Although the words paused, the sounds didn't. Homer imagined the scene he heard-the man walking away
in vexation, the wife hanging her head and weeping freely, the baby whimpering.
With a shiver, Homer remembered the sound of the Trojan women on the ruins.
Then the sound of the man's feet in the coarse sand returned. "The governor and some people are coming.
Perhaps you should go. It will be less painful, eh?"