Green Shadows, White Whales. Ray Bradbury

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СКАЧАТЬ the same way at Ricki, at the far end of the dining room table. I sat between, half buttering my toast.

      “It’s Tom Hurley, calling from Hollywood!”

      Ricki gave him one of her elusive, haunted smiles and looked down again at her scrambled eggs.

      “Well, for God’s sake, Tom!” said John. “What are you up to? What are you doing?”

      The phone buzzed.

      “Uh-huh,” said John, emphatically, listening. “Uh-huh! Uh-huh!” He nodded. “Good, Tom. Fine, Fine. Lisa, yes, I remember Lisa. Lovely girl. When? Well, that’s wonderful, Tom, for both of you!”

      The telephone talked for a long moment. John looked at me and winked.

      “Well, it’s the hunt season here, Tom, yes, great fox-hunting country. Ireland’s the best in the world. Fine jumps, Tom, you’d love it!”

      Ricki looked up again at this. John glanced away from her, out at the swelling green hills.

      “It’s the loveliest land in creation, Tom. I’m going to live here forever!”

      Ricki started eating rapidly, looking down.

      “They have great horses here, Tom,” said John. “And you know horses better than I do. Well, you ought to come over and just lay your eyes on the beauties!”

      I heard the voice on the phone say it wished it could.

      John gazed at the green fields. “I’m riding with the Waterford Hunt Thursday, Tom. What the hell … hell, why don’t you just fly over to hunt with me?”

      The voice on the phone laughed.

      Ricki let her fork drop. “Christ,” she muttered. “Here it comes!”

      John ignored her, gazed at the hills and said:

      “I mean it, be our houseguest, bring Lisa too!”

      The voice on the phone laughed, not so loud this time.

      “Tom, look,” John pursued, “I need to buy one or two more horses to race or maybe breed, you could help me pick. Or—”

      John stared out the window. Beyond, a hound trotted by on the green field. John sat up suddenly, as if the animal were inspiration.

      “Tom, I’ve just got the damnedest wildest idea. Listen, you do want to bring Lisa along, yes? Okay, pile her into a plane tomorrow, fly to Shannon—Shannon, Tom—and I’ll come to Shannon myself to drive you here to Kilcock. But listen, Tom, after you’ve been here a week we’ll have a hunt wedding!”

      I heard the voice on the phone say, “What?”

      “Haven’t you ever heard of a hunt wedding, Tom?” cried John exuberantly. He stood up now and put one foot on the chair and leaned toward the window to see if the hound was still trotting across the field. “Tom, it’s just the best damn kind of wedding for a man like you and a woman like Lisa. She rides, doesn’t she? And sits a horse well, as I recall. Well, then, damn it, think how it would be, Tom! You’re getting married anyway, so why not you two pagans here in Catholic Ireland? Out here at my place …” He cast a quick glance at Ricki. “Our place. We’d call in every horse in ninety miles around and every decent hunter, and the lovely hounds, the loveliest hounds and bitches you ever saw, Tom, and everyone in their pink coats—what color, Tom—and the women in great-fitting black coats, and after the marriage service you and Lisa and I would go to hunt the finest fox you ever saw, Tom! What do you say? Is Lisa there? Put her on!” A pause. “Lisa? Lisa, you sound great! Lisa, talk to that bastard! No arguments! I’ll expect you here day after tomorrow for the Waterford Hunt! Tell Tom I won’t accept the charges if he calls back. God love you, Lisa. So long.” John hung up.

      He looked at me with a chimpanzee smile of immense satisfaction.

      “By God now! What have I done? Did you hear that? Will you help out, kid?”

      “What about Moby Dick, John?”

      “Oh, hell, the Whale will survive. God, I can just see the parish priest’s eyebrows burning. I can hear the rouse in the pubs when they hear!”

      “I can watch myself cutting my throat in the bathtub.” Ricki headed for the door. It was always the horses to be ridden or tubs soaked in up to her mouth at a time like this, which was usually twice a week, living with a power unit like John. “So long, lousy husband. Goodbye, cruel world.”

      The door slammed.

      Not waiting to hear the fierce douse of water above in the giant bathroom, John grabbed my knee.

      “God almighty, it’ll be a time!” he cried. “Ever seen a hunt wedding?”

      “Afraid not.”

      “Christ, it’s beautiful! Damn! Beyond belief!”

      I looked at the door through which Ricki had gone.

      “Will Tom and Lisa come, just like that?”

      “They’re both sports.”

      “Am I supposed to interpret that as positive assurance we’ll see them this week?”

      “We’ll go to Shannon and drive them here, won’t we, kid?”

      “I thought I was supposed to rewrite the solid-gold-doubloon-on-the-mast scene, John.”

      “Oh, hell, we both need a few days off. Ricki!”

      Ricki reappeared in the door, her face the color of snow and lilacs. She had been waiting for the call she knew would come.

      “Ricki,” said John, beaming at her as on one of his children. “Goddamn, listen—here’s the plan!”

      Tom and Lisa got off the plane fighting. They fought inside the door of the plane. They fought coming out the door. They yelled at each other on the top step. They shouted coming down the steps.

      John and I just looked up, aghast. I was glad Ricki was off somewhere, shopping until suppertime.

      “Tom!” cried John. “Lisa!”

      Halfway down the steps, Lisa turned and ran back up, raving. She was going back to the States now! The pilot, on his way out, told her there was a rather slender chance of this, for the plane was not going back immediately. Why not? she demanded. By this time Tom had bounded back up to her side, yelling at the pilot that he should indeed turn the damn ship round and fly this madwoman back, he would pay double, triple, and if he could manage to crash on the way, fine.

      John, listening, sat down on the steps of the unloading platform, shut his eyes, shook his head, and bellowed with laughter.

      Hearing this, Tom came to the rail above and looked down sharply. “Jesus Christ, John!”

      John went up and hugged and kissed Lisa a lot, which did it. We finally saw them through customs, packed them into the Jaguar, and tooled across the vast green pool table of Ireland.

      “Beautiful! СКАЧАТЬ