"Connie Willis - Miracle and Other Christmas Stories" - читать интересную книгу автора (Willis Connie)

A religious nut.
"I don't have time to talk to you." She started to say, "I'm late for work," and then
remembered you weren't supposed to tell strangers your apartment was going to be empty.
"I'm very busy," she said and shut the door, more firmly this time.
The knocking commenced again, but she ignored it. She started into the bedroom
with the shopping bag, came back and pushed the deadbolt across and put the chain on, and
then went in to hang up her dress. By the time she'd extricated it from the tissue paper and
found a hanger, the knocking had stopped. She hung up the dress, which looked just as deadly
now that she had it home, and went back into the living room.
The young man was sitting on the couch, messing with her TV remote. "So, what do you
want for Christmas? A yacht? A pony?" He punched buttons on the remote, frowning. "A new
TV?"
"How did you get in here?" Lauren said squeakily. She looked at the door. The deadbolt and
chain were both still on.
"I'm a spirit," he said, putting the remote down. The TV suddenly blared on. "The Spirit of
Christmas Present."
"Oh," Lauren said, edging toward the phone. "Like in A Christmas Carol."
"No," he said, flipping through the channels. She looked at the remote. It was still on the
coffee table. "Not Christmas Present. Christmas Present. You know, Barbie dolls, ugly ties,
cheese logs, the stuff people give you for Christmas."
"Oh, Christmas Present. I see," Lauren said, carefully picking up the phone.
"People always get me confused with him, which is really insulting. I mean, the guy
obviously has a really high cholesterol level. Anyway, I'm the Spirit of Christmas Present,
and your sister sent me to—"
Lauren had dialed nine one. She stopped, her finger poised over the second one. "My
sister?"
"Yeah," he said, staring at the TV. Jimmy Stewart was sitting in the guard's room, wrapped
in a blanket. "Oh, wow! It's a Wonderful Life."
My sister sent you, Lauren thought. It explained everything. He was not a Moonie or a
serial killer. He was this year's version of the crystal pyramid mate selector. "How do you
know my sister?"
"She channeled me," he said, leaning back against the sofa. "The Maharishi Ram Das was
instructing her in trance-meditation, and she accidentally channeled my spirit out of the
astral plane." He pointed at the screen. "I love this part where the angel is trying to convince
Jimmy Stewart he's dead."
"I'm not dead, am I?"
"No. I'm not an angel. I'm a spirit. The Spirit of Christmas Present. You can call me Chris
for short. Your sister sent me to give you what you really want for Christmas. You know,
your heart's desire. So what is it?"
For my sister not to send me any more presents, she thought. "Look, I'm really in a hurry
right now. Why don't you come back tomorrow and we can talk about it then?"
 "I hope it's not a fur coat," he said as if he hadn't heard her. "I'm opposed to the killing of
endangered species." He picked up Fred's present. "What's this?"
"It's a videotape of Miracle on 34th Street. I really have to go."
"Who's it for?"
"Fred Hatch. I'm his Secret Santa."
"Fred Hatch." He turned the package over. "You had it gift-wrapped at the store, didn't
you?"
"Yes. If we could just talk about this later—"
"This is a great part, too," he said, leaning forward to watch the TV. The angel was