"K. D. Wentworth - Outhouse Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wentworth K D)

thumped back onto the floor. "I knowed how it was gonna be when I saw that
brazen sickle moon ahangin' up there like that, all cozied up to that
Jezebel-lookin' star. No decent star fools around with the moon like that." He
aimed another sideways shot of dark liquid into the spittoon. "Course you
never listen to your poor old Grandpa."
"That's just Venus!" Willy twisted the doorknob with both hands and
hauled back on the door, letting the cold anger of the late autumn wind blast
past him into the kitchen. "We learned about it in school! Miss Robinson said
we could see Venus near the moon tonight!"
"William Bennett Harrison, you come back—"
 His heart thumping like it would bang clean out of his chest, he scooted
through the open doorway out into a cold that bit at his eyes and scared his
breath away. The door slammed behind him with the force of a gunshot. He
hunched into his thin jacket and dashed into the stand of tall maples that
lined the stretch from his house to the lane, plowing dead leaves behind him
like a plume of spray.
Why did she have to listen to that crazy old man? No one with any sense
ever believed a thing he said. If Grandpa said do this, then it was sure a
sure thing you should do just the opposite. Willy crammed his fists down into
his pockets and waded through the rustling dried leaves up to his ankles.
A dark shape leaped out from behind the solid mass of a tree, screeching
and waving its arms. Startled, Willy staggered backwards and fetched his head
up sharp against a trunk. He caught a glimpse of the mean-faced Outhouse Moon
through skeletal dark tree limbs as he fell without ever hitting bottom—
"—jeez, I said I was sorry, Willy!" Hands tugged at his jacket. "Quit
playing around, will you?"
The back of Willy's head was wet and numb and sore, all at the same
time. "R-Rick?"
The dark figure sat back on its heels and stared down at him. "This
ain't funny, Willy," it said reproachfully.
Willy tried to sit up, then felt his stomach roll sickly. He clenched
his teeth and fought it off.
"Are you gonna be all right? Do you want me to go fetch your grandpa or
something?"
"No! You leave my grandpa out of this!" A tree root gnarled into the
shape of a bony knee was digging into the back of his neck. Willy squirmed
weakly, trying to ease off it. "Where's your dogs?"
"I left 'em shut up in the barn." The other boy swallowed hard. "I was
planning to pick 'em up on our way over to Fox Hollow, but you don't feel like
hunting no more, do you?"
"Sure I do." Willy hoped that he sounded better than he felt. "Help me
up, toadface."
Taller than him by a head, Rick grabbed his shirt and hauled him back
onto his feet. "Willy, I didn't think you'd really be scared or I'd never have
done it."
"I know." Willy balanced there, the world spinning around in silly
circles, the stupid Outhouse Moon floating around up in the air where it
belonged one minute, then fooling around down somewhere below his feet the
next. He shook his head and started on wobbly legs toward the fields.
By the time they reached the barn, Rick's dogs were all shivery with