"Stephen King. The Girl who loved Tom Gordon." - читать интересную книгу автора

Stephen KING

THE GIRL WHO LOVED TOM GORDON



(c) 01 Feb 1999, King, Stephen. "The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon".
[x] 09 Apr 2000, 'ЃЁЎ«Ё®вҐЄ  on-line'. [http://www.bestlibrary.ru/]
[x] 29 Mar 2001, formatting & spellcheck: Denis Suhanov aka 'sadist'.


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Pregame

THE WORLD had teeth and it could bite you with them anytime it wanted.
Trisha McFarland discovered this when she was nine years old. At ten
o'clock on a morning in early June she was sitting in the back seat of her
mother's Dodge Caravan, wearing her blue Red Sox batting practice jersey
(the one with 36 GORDON on the back) and playing with Mona, her doll. At
ten thirty she was lost in the woods. By eleven she was trying not to be
terrified, trying not to let herself think, This is serious, this is very
serious. Trying not to think that sometimes when people got lost in the
woods they got seriously hurt. Sometimes they died.
All because I needed to pee, she thought ... except she hadn't needed
to pee all that badly, and in any case she could have asked Mom and Pete to
wait up the trail a minute while she went behind a tree. They were fighting
again, gosh what a surprise that was, and that was why she had dropped
behind a little bit, and without saying anything. That was why she had
stepped off the trail and behind a high stand of bushes. She needed a
breather, simple as that. She was tired of listening to them argue, tired
of trying to sound bright and cheerful, close to screaming at her mother,
Let him go, then! If be wants to go back to Malden and live with Dad so
much, why don't you just let him? I'd drive him myself if I bad a license,
just to get some peace and quiet around here! And what then? What would her
mother say then? What kind of look would come over her face? And Pete. He
was older, almost fourteen, and not stupid, so why didn't he know better?
Why couldn't he just give it a rest? Cut the crap was what she wanted to
say to him (to both of them, really), just cut the crap.
The divorce had happened a year ago, and their mother had gotten
custody. Pete had protested the move from suburban Boston to southern Maine
bitterly and at length. Part of it really was wanting to be with Dad, and
that was the lever he always used on Mom (he understood with some unerring
instinct that it was the one he could plant the deepest and pull on the
hardest), but Trisha knew it wasn't the only reason, or even the biggest
one. The real reason Pete wanted out was that he hated Sanford Middle
School.
In Malden he'd had it pretty well whipped. He'd run the computer club
like it was his own private kingdom; he'd had friends - nerds, yeah, but