The Postman Always Rings Twice / Почтальон всегда звонит дважды. Джеймс КейнЧитать онлайн книгу.
the place. Why?”
“It's lousy all right. I wonder you do any business at all.”
I went to gas up a car[18], and left him to think that over. When I got back he was still looking at it. Three of the lights were broken.
“Put in new lights, hang'm up, will be all right.”
“You're the boss.”
“What's a matter with it?”
“Well, it's out of date[19]. Nobody has bulb signs any more. They got Neon signs. They show up better. Then, what does it say? Twin Oaks, that's all. The Tavern part, it's not in lights. Well, Twin Oaks don't make me hungry. It don't make me want to stop and get something to eat.”
“Fix'm up, will be hokay.”
“Why don't you get a new sign?”
“I'm busy.”
But pretty soon he was back, with a piece of paper. He had drawn a new sign for himself, and colored it up with red, white, and blue. It said Twin Oaks Tavern, and N. Papadakis.
“Swell[20].”
I fixed up the words, so they were spelled right.
“Nick, why do we hang up the old sign at all? Why don't you go to the city today and get this new sign made? It's a beauty, believe me it is. And it's important.”
“I do it. By golly[21], I go.”
Los Angeles was about twenty miles away, and right after lunch, he went. Soon as he was gone, I locked the front door. I took a plate that a guy had left, and went on back in the kitchen with it. She was there.
“Here's a plate that was out there.”
“Oh, thanks.”
I put it down. The fork in her hand was rattling like a tambourine.
“I was going to go, but I started some things cooking and I thought I better not.”
“I got plenty to do, myself.”
“You feeling better?”
“I'm all right.”
“What's that?”
Somebody was out front, knocking on the door. “Sounds like somebody trying to get in.”
“Is the door locked, Frank?”
“I must have locked it.”
She looked at me, and got pale. Then she went into the lunchroom, but in a minute she was back.
“They went away.”
“I don't know why I locked it.”
“I forgot to unlock it.”
She started for the lunchroom again, but I stopped her. “Let's – leave it locked.”
“Nobody can get in if it's locked. I got some cooking to do. I'll wash up this plate.”
I took her in my arms and pressed my mouth hard against hers… “Bite me! Bite me!”
I bit her. I sunk my teeth into her lips so deep I could feel the blood flow into my mouth. It was running down her neck when I carried her upstairs.
Chapter 3
For two days after that I was dead, but the Greek was sore at me because I hadn't fixed the swing door[22] that led from the lunchroom into the kitchen. She told him it swung back and hit her in the mouth. She had to tell him something. Her mouth was all swelled up where I had bit it. So he said it was my fault that I hadn't fixed it.
But the real reason he was sore at me was over the sign. He had fallen for it so hard[23] he was afraid I would say it was my idea, stead of his. When it was ready I hung it up. It had on it all that he had drawn on the paper – a Greek flag and an American flag, and hands shaking hands[24], and Satisfaction Guaranteed. It was all in red, white, and blue Neon letters, and I waited until dark to turn on the light[25]. When I snapped the switch, it lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Well, I've seen many a sign in my time, but never one like that. I got to hand it to you, Nick.”
“By golly. By golly.”
We shook hands. We were friends again.
Next day I was alone with her for a minute.
“How are you, Cora?”
“Lousy.”
From then on, I began to smell her again.
One day the Greek heard there was a guy up the road undercutting him on gas[26]. He jumped in the car to go see about it. I was in my room when he drove off, and I rushed to the kitchen. But she was already there, standing in the door.
I went over and looked at her mouth. The swelling was all gone, but you could still see the tooth marks, little blue lines on both lips. I touched them with my fingers. They were soft and damp. I kissed them, but not hard. They were little soft kisses. I had never thought about them before. She stayed until the Greek came back, about an hour. We didn't do anything. We just lay on the bed. She kept rumpling my hair, and looking up at the ceiling, like she was thinking.
“You like blueberry pie?”
“I don't know. Yeah. I guess so.”
“I'll make you some.”
“Look out, Frank. You'll break a spring leaf.”
“To hell with the spring leaf.”
We were going into a little eucalyptus grove beside the road. The Greek had sent us down to the market to take back some steaks he said were lousy, and on the way back it had got dark. I drove the car in there, but when I was in among the trees I stopped. Her arms were around me before I even cut the lights. We did plenty. After a while we just sat there. “I can't go on like this, Frank.”
“Me neither[27].”
“I can't stand it. And I've got to get drunk with you, Frank. You know what I mean? Drunk.”
“I know.”
“And I hate that Greek.”
“Why did you marry him? You never did tell me that.”
“I haven't told you anything.”
“We haven't wasted any time on talk.”
“I was working in a hash house. You spend two years in a Los Angeles hash house and you'll take the first guy that's got a gold watch.”
“When did you leave Iowa?”
“Three years ago. I won a beauty contest. I won a high school beauty contest, in Des Moines[28]. That's where I lived. The prize was a trip to Hollywood. And two weeks later I was in the hash house.”
“Did you get in movies?”
“They gave me a test. It was all right in the face. But they talk, now.[29] And when I began to talk, up there on the screen, they knew me for what I was[30], and so did I. A cheap Des Moines trollop, that had as much chance in pictures as a monkey has. Not as much. A monkey, anyway, can make you laugh. All I did was make you sick[31].”
“And then?”
“Then two years of guys pinching your leg and leaving nickel tips
заправить машину
старомодно
Круто
Ей-богу
распашная дверь
Он так на неё запал
рукопожатие
включить свет
торгующий дешёвым бензином
Я тоже
Де Мойн, штат Айова.
Но ведь актёры теперь говорят.
они поняли, с кем имеют дело
А от меня только тошнило