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“perevedi na literaturnyi russkii iazyk: But there was no way to turn around. Ins” (1 conversations)
toxic
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Feb 21, 2024 at 3:36 PM MSK
Russia
USER
perevedi na literaturnyi russkii iazyk: But there was no way to turn around. Instead, she headed the car into the curving road that led to the Jefferson Memorial. "It's okay here," he said. She parked the car in the deserted parking lot, cutting the motor. They did not get out. From where they were they could see the frozen pond glistening in the sun and across it the barren cherry trees, waiting for spring. Above them loomed the graceful giant statue of Jefferson, surrounded by a circle of Greek pillars. "If it gets too cold, I'll turn on the heater." "It's okay," he said. "I don't quite know how to put this," she began, facing him. "Mornings," she blurted. "They met in the morning. Every weekday morning." "But she was sleeping..." he began. Then understanding filtered into his mind. "So it seemed," he said sadly. "He never got to the office before ten." "My God." She saw his fists clench. "He left the house at seven. That left three hours." "As soon as I was gone," he said angrily. "She must have jumped out of bed. Our bed. Then went to his. How revolting. How utterly revolting." "There's more." He evaded her eyes. "Remember I said he used to jog every morning? Then he switched to evenings?" "Yes." "That was a year ago." "A whole year!" "I'm afraid so." "I'd bend over her, kiss her. It was an unfailing ritual of my life. I always left the house with this good feeling...." "They were very clever," Vivien said. "Choosing the morning. The innocent hours." "The lousy lying bitch. How could she?" "And he?" "And for more than a year." "Degrading, isn't it?"
CHATBOT
No povernut' nazad uzhe bylo nevozmozhno. Vmesto etogo ona napravila mashinu na izvilistuiu dorogu, vedushchuiu k Memorialu Dzheffersona. "Zdes' khorosho," - skazal on. Ona priparkovala avtomobil' na pustoi parkovke i zaglushila dvigatel'. Oni ne vykhodili iz mashiny. Ottuda, gde oni byli, bylo vidno, kak solntse otrazhaetsia v zamerzshem prudu, a cherez prud - obnazhennye vishnevye derev'ia, ozhidaia vesny. Nad nimi vozvyshalas' elegantnaia gigantskaia statuia Dzheffersona, okruzhennaia krugom grecheskikh kolonn. "Esli stanet slishkom kholodno, ia vkliuchu obogrevatel'." "Vsio v poriadke," - skazal on. "Ia ne sovsem znaiu, kak eto vyrazit'," - nachala ona, obrashchaias' k nemu. "Po utram," - vyrvalos' u nee. "Oni vstrechalis' utrom. Kazhdyi budnii den' utrom." "No ona zhe spala..." - nachal on. Potom ponimanie proniklo v ego mysli. "Tak kazalos'," - skazal on grustno. "On nikogda ne prikhodil v ofis do desiati." "Bozhe moi." Ona uvidela, kak on szhal kulaki. "On ukhodil iz domu v sem'. Eto ostavlialo tri chasa." "Kak tol'ko ia ukhodila," - skazal on s gnevom. "Dolzhno byt', ona srazu soskakivala s posteli. S nashei posteli. Potom shla k nemu. Kak otvratitel'no. Prosto nevynosimo otvratitel'no." "Eto eshche ne vsio." On izbegal ee vzgliada. "Pomnish', ia govorila, chto on begal kazhdoe utro? Potom on perekliuchilsia na vechera?" "Da." "Eto bylo god nazad." "Tselyi god!" "Boius', chto tak." "Ia naklonialsia nad nei, tseloval. Eto byl neizmennyi ritual moei zhizni. Ia vsegda ukhodil iz doma s khoroshim chuvstvom...." "Oni byli ochen' khitry," - skazala Viv'en. "Vybrali utrennee vremia. Nevinnye chasy." "Chertova lgushchaia suka. Kak ona mogla?" "A on?" "I bol'she goda." "Unizitel'no, ne pravda li?"
USER
perevedi na literaturnyi russkii iazyk: He did not respond. The unthinkable seemed remarkably rational. Inadvertently, they had moved closer together in the car. One of his arms was stretched across the back of the seat, his hand touching her shoulder. She felt its pressure but made no move to extricate herself. "Nobody knows anybody," he said after a long silence. "There's the lesson of it." "A whole year," she mused. Just to contemplate the idea of their own ignorance was an embarrassment. No! She was not going to insult her self-worth. "Just imagine what they had to do to keep us from knowing. It wasn't just a single lie. They had to create another person to go through the routine with us." As she talked she became aware of the pressure of his hand on her shoulder. While it felt comforting, it made her uneasy, as if it were she who was being unfaithful. She looked around her. The situation had all the trappings of a clandestine tryst, a midday affair: the deserted parking lot, the male stranger beside her, the odd sense of sensual anticipation. She imagined she could hear Margo's knowing giggle. Then another thought intruded. When she turned, would it be Orson beside her, the handsome craggy face, the watchful eyes--hiding the Machiavellian intelligence, all the mechanisms of Byzantine plotting, behind an accusing gaze--as if she were the guilty party, and he had arranged the entrapment? Suddenly she moved away, beyond his reach. "What is it?" Edward's voice recalled the reality. She looked across the pond at the barren cherry trees, dormant and waiting like herself. "What is it?" he repeated. His elbow still rested on the seat's rim, but his arm was up, like a teenager frightened on a first date. Somehow the image softened her, and she moved back toward him, waiting for the arm to come down. Yes, she decided, she could understand his need to touch another human being. And hers, as well.
CHATBOT
On ne otvetil. Nepostizhimoe kazalos' udivitel'no razumnym. Neproizvol'no oni sblizilis' v mashine. Odna iz ego ruk byla vytianuta vdol' spinki siden'ia, ego ruka kasalas' eio plecha. Ona oshchutila ego davlenie, no ne sdelala popytki osvobodit'sia. "Nikto ne znaet drugogo nastoiashchego," - skazal on posle dolgogo molchaniia. "V etom vsia sut'." "Tselyi god," - razmyshliala ona. Prosto mysl' ob ikh sobstvennom nevedenii byla unizitel'na. Net! Ona ne stala by umaliat' svoiu sobstvennuiu tsennost'. "Predstav' sebe, chto im prishlos' delat', chtoby my nichego ne zametili. Eto byla ne prosto odna lozh'. Oni sozdali drugogo cheloveka, chtoby prokhodit' etot ritual vmeste s nami." Kogda ona govorila, ona osoznala davlenie ego ruki na eio pleche. Khotia eto i kazalos' uspokaivaiushchim, ona chuvstvovala sebia nelovko, kak budto eto ona byla neverna. Ona ogliadelas' vokrug. U situatsii byli vse priznaki tainoi sviazi, delovogo romana: pustaia parkovka, neznakomyi muzhchina riadom s nei, strannoe oshchushchenie seksual'nogo predvkusheniia. Ona predstavila, chto mozhet slyshat' znaiushchii khikhikan'e Margo. Zatem drugaia mysl' vtorglas' v eio soznanie. Kogda ona obernetsia, budet li eto Orson riadom s nei, s krasivym surovym litsom, bditel'nymi glazami -- skryvaiushchimi makiavellistskuiu intellektual'nost', vse mekhanizmy vizantiiskogo intriganstva, za obviniaiushchim vzgliadom -- kak budto ona byla vinovnitsei, i on zaplaniroval eio lovushku? Vdrug ona otodvinulas', vyidia iz-pod ego ruki. "Chto sluchilos'?" Golos Edvarda vernul eio k deistvitel'nosti. Ona posmotrela cherez prud na obnazhionnye vishnevye derev'ia, kotorye nakhodilis' v spiachke i ozhidali, kak i ona. "Chto sluchilos'?" - povtoril on. Ego lokot' vse eshche opiralsia na krai siden'ia, no ruka byla podniata, kak u podrostka, napugannogo na pervom svidanii. Kakim-to obrazom eto predstavlenie smiagchilo eio, i ona snova pridvinulas' k nemu, ozhidaia opuskaniia ruki. Da, ona reshila, chto mozhet poniat' ego potrebnost' kosnut'sia drugogo cheloveka. I svoiu tozhe.
USER
perevedi na literaturnyi russkii iazyk: She wondered if she was receiving more than simple comfort, whether she needed more than that. It was irrelevant, she decided. And, considering the circumstances, a bit odd. He lay his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. His hand caressed her shoulder. Despite her sensitivity, the uneasiness passed. "Maybe it was we who invented them," he said. He breathed deeply and sighed. "More like they invented themselves." "A whole year." He shook his head in disbelief. "There must have been something. Something! Surely you must have picked up vibes, felt something intuitively." "So much for woman's intuition. Mine must have been in mothballs." "I was too self-absorbed. Working my ass off. It wasn't even in my frame of reference. You were a housewife. Your world revolved around him...." "Makes me the dumbest, I guess." "I didn't mean it that way." "What way?" "The way it sounded. Like it was an accusation against your ... gender." Enough, she cried within herself. She was too exhausted to defend the role. Besides, she now hated what she had been, the trusting wife with the lamp always lit in the window. It hurt to think about it. "Theirs was a crime against, well, against the concept, the bond of marriage," he said, "against commitment. Like"--he paused --"embezzlement. Stealing without the owner's knowledge. An inside job." The idea seemed to excite him, and he went on. "Think of how devious they had to be. They had to know our every quirk and habit, our routine, our way of living. They had to cover their tracks in advance, take advantage of our trust, and conspire against us. God, how well they played us." "Like musical instruments." "A regular quartet." "Everything had to be precise, in perfect harmony. One sour note, and we'd both suspect." He paused. "Or would we? How thickheaded they must have thought we were. Two naive pinheads." "No denying that. They were right, of course." A muffled sound escaped from his throat, a kind of sardonic chuckle. "What is it?" He shook his head. "Too crude to say," he muttered. "We can't have secrets," she said lightly. Her hand had brushed almost playfully against his chest.
CHATBOT
Ona zadumalas', ne poluchaet li ona bol'shego, chem prosto uteshenie, ne nuzhdaetsia li ona v chem-to bol'shem. Ona reshila, chto eto ne imeet znacheniia. I, uchityvaia obstoiatel'stva, bylo dazhe nemnogo strannym. On otkinul golovu na podgolovnik i zakryl glaza. Ego ruka laskovo gladila eio plecho. Nesmotria na eio vospriimchivost', chuvstvo bespokoistva proshlo. "Mozhet byt', my ikh sami i pridumali," - skazal on. On gluboko vdokhnul i vzdokhnul. "Skoree oni pridumali sami sebia." "Tselyi god." On pokachal golovoi v nedoverii. "Dolzhno bylo byt' chto-to. Chto-to! Naverniaka ty dolzhna byla chto-to pochuvstvovat' intuitivno, ulovit' vibratsii." "Tak mnogo za zhenskuiu intuitsiiu. Moia, dolzhno byt', byla ubrana na mol'bit." "Ia byl slishkom pogloshchen samim soboi. Rabotal kak prokliatyi. Eto dazhe ne ukladyvalos' v moi predstavleniia o mire. Ty byla domokhoziaikoi. Tvoi mir vrashchalsia vokrug nego..." "Poluchaetsia, ia samaia glupaia, navernoe." "Ia ne imel v vidu eto." "Chto imenno?" "To, kak eto prozvuchalo. Kak obvinenie v adres... tvoego pola." Dostatochno, zakrichala ona vnutri sebia. Ona byla slishkom izmotana, chtoby zashchishchat' etu rol'. K tomu zhe, ona teper' nenavidela tu, kem byla, -- doverchivuiu zhenu, vsegda zazhigaiushchuiu svet v okne. Dumat' ob etom bylo bol'no. "Ikh prestuplenie bylo soversheno protiv, nu, protiv kontseptsii, uzov braka," - skazal on, "protiv obiazatel'stv. Kak..." - on sdelal pauzu - "raskhishchenie. Krazha bez vedoma vladel'tsa. Delo iznutri." Eta mysl', kazalos', ego vzvolnovala, i on prodolzhil. "Podumai, kakimi kovarnymi im prishlos' byt'. Oni dolzhny byli znat' kazhduiu nashu prichudu i privychku, nash rasporiadok, nash obraz zhizni. Oni dolzhny byli zaranee skryt' svoi shagi, vospol'zovat'sia nashim doveriem, i zagovorit' protiv nas. Bozhe, kak khorosho oni nas igrali." "Kak muzykal'nye instrumenty." "Tselyi kvartet." "Vse dolzhno byt' tochnym, v sovershennoi garmonii. Odin lozhnyi zvuk, i my by oba zapodozrili." On sdelal pauzu. "Ili by my? Kakimi tupymi oni dolzhny byli dumat', chto my byli. Dva naivnykh lopukha." "Nel'zia otritsat' etogo. Oni byli, konechno, pravy." Iz ego gorla vyrvalsia priglushennyi zvuk, chto-to vrode sarkasticheskogo smekha. "Chto takoe?" On pokachal golovoi. "Slishkom grubo chtoby skazat'," - probormotal on. "My ne mozhem imet' sekretov," - skazala ona na legkom tone. Eio ruka pochti igrivo skol'znula po ego grudi.
USER
perevedi na literaturnyi russkii iazyk: "All right. We shared bacteria. The four of us." "How gross." She suppressed a giggle. The idea was ludicrous. "Like herpes." He began to laugh full throated. His body shook. "I'm sorry," he said when he had settled down, wiping his eyes. "It's not happy laughter. More like hysterics." He seemed apologetic. "I can see," she said. "Black humor." An idea suddenly imposed itself. "But why did they choose Florida at precisely that moment?" She answered her own question. "Maybe to make a decision. Maybe they needed a place to think. A place away from us. Orson was like that. The lawyer's mind." "But they had a place," Edward said. She felt a sudden cramp. "Are you all right?" he asked. "I'm afraid not." He reached over and opened the window, letting in the cold air. She breathed deeply until she felt better. Another car rolled into the lot, passed them, then moved to the other side of the monument. Looking through the mirror she saw two heads move toward each other, silhouetted against the white background. He raised his eyes to the mirror. "Cheating spouses," Edward said. "Last week I might have said lovers." "Last week I wouldn't have noticed. Or cared." She saw the heads disengage and turn toward the rear of their car to watch them. "They must think we're doing the same thing," she said. "Why else would a couple come to this place"--he held his wrist up --"at eleven A.M. on a weekday in winter?" Through the rearview mirror they could see the people still watching them. Finally the couple turned again, locking together. "Obviously a common occurrence. We just weren't tuned in," she said, still looking through the mirror. "Imagine the pressure of going through life worrying about getting caught." "It didn't seem to worry them." Resetting the mirror, she turned to face him. In the stark whiteness, his face was pale and his cheeks a trifle hollower than they had been when she had first met him. Underneath his eyes were dark rings. She wondered if he, too, saw signs like that in her. A sudden cramp gripped her again, then passed. "Edward," she said after a long pause. "Yes?" A nerve palpitated in his jaw as he looked out at the frozen Tidal Basin. "I'm glad they died." "Me, too." She said nothing more, gunning the motor.
CHATBOT
"Ladno. My obmenivalis' bakteriiami. Nas chetvero." "Kak merzko." Ona podavila khikhikan'e. Ideia pokazalas' ei smeshnoi. "Kak gerpes." On nachal gromko smeiat'sia. Ego telo triaslos'. "Prostite," - skazal on, uspokoivshis' i vytiraia glaza. "Eto ne radostnyi smekh. Skoree isterika." On vygliadel izviniaiushchimsia. "Ia vizhu," - skazala ona. "Chernyi iumor." Vdrug v eio golove voznikla mysl'. "No pochemu oni vybrali Floridu imenno v tot moment?" Ona sama otvetila na svoi vopros. "Vozmozhno, chtoby priniat' reshenie. Vozmozhno, im nuzhno bylo mesto dlia razdumii. Mesto vdali ot nas. Orson byl takov. Um iurista." "No u nikh uzhe bylo mesto," - skazal Edvard. Ona pochuvstvovala vnezapnyi spazm. "Ty v poriadke?" - sprosil on. "Boius', chto net." On protianul ruku i otkryl okno, pustiv v salon kholodnyi vozdukh. Ona dyshala gluboko, poka ne pochuvstvovala sebia luchshe. Pod'ekhala eshche odna mashina, proekhala mimo nikh, a potom uekhala na druguiu storonu memoriala. Cherez zerkalo ona uvidela, kak dve golovy naklonilis' drug k drugu na fone belogo prostranstva. On podnial vzgliad na zerkalo. "Izmeniaiushchie suprugi," - skazal Edvard. "Na proshloi nedele ia by nazval ikh vliublennymi." "Na proshloi nedele ia by dazhe ne zametila. Ili ne volnovalas' by." Ona uvidela, kak golovy otstranilis' i obernulis' k zadnei chasti ikh mashiny, chtoby ponabliudat' za nimi. "Oni, navernoe, dumaiut, chto my delaem to zhe samoe," - skazala ona. "Pochemu inache para priekhala by siuda"--on podnial zapiast'e--"v odinnadtsat' utra v budnii den' zimoi?" Cherez zadnee zerkalo oni videli, chto liudi vse eshche smotriat na nikh. Nakonets para snova povernulas' drug k drugu, snova ob'edinivshis'. "Iavno obychnoe iavlenie. My prosto ne byli nastroeny," - skazala ona, vse eshche gliadia v zerkalo. "Predstavliaiu, kakoe davlenie nuzhno vyderzhivat', zhivia v strakhe byt' poimannym." "Ikh, kazhetsia, eto ne bespokoilo." Ona nastroila zerkalo, povernulas' k nemu litsom. Na fone oslepitel'noi belizny ego litso bylo blednym, a shcheki chut' bolee vpalye, chem togda, kogda ona vstretila ego v pervyi raz. Pod glazami u nego byli temnye krugi. Ona zadumalas', vidit li on takie zhe priznaki u nee. Vnezapnyi spazm snova szhal ee, no prekratilsia. "Edvard," - skazala ona posle dolgoi pauzy. "Da?" Odna nervnaia drozh' probezhala po ego cheliusti, kogda on smotrel na zamershii Prilivnyi Bassein. "Ia rada, chto oni umerli." "Ia tozhe." Ona bol'she nichego ne skazala, zavela dvigatel'.
USER
perevedi na literaturnyi russkii iazyk: When Edward returned to the office, the Congressman and most of the staff were out to lunch. Jan Peters sat at her desk reading a newspaper and eating a sandwich. "You okay?" she asked. There was no avoiding her desk. From the moment he had arrived her scrutiny had been merciless. "You should have taken more time," she had told him that morning. That was before he and Congressman Holmes had had their little chat. To the Congressman, time away from the office constituted a mortal sin, whatever the circumstances. Not that Edward expected compassion, but the Congressman could have dispensed with the syrupy sentiment, which was laughably transparent. As they say, it went with the territory. Besides, what would he have done with his day? He was not mourning Lily. If anything, he should be mourning his own lost life, the end of his innocence. Even self-pity seemed shallow. At least there was Vivien. Viv. "The work will do you good, Eddie," the Congressman had said, wearing the appropriate expression for such an occasion, a look of earnest concern. "Yes, I believe it will," Edward had agreed. "I know it's rough." How the hell would he know? Edward wondered. Before, it had been easy to deal with hypocrisy, the little public lies and dissimulations that were the idiom of the political trade. But now that they had spilled over into his inner life, his real life, he could not bear it. A lie was a lie. There were no little lies. "If there's anything I can do..." the Congressman had said, winding up the obligatory hearts and flowers and getting back to business. He rattled off a string of suggestions for press releases and bills, ideas to make public impact--his only real objective. Dutifully, Edward took notes, illegible scrawls, but the activity gave him the look of sincere interest. "Exposure, Edward. That's the name of the game. A steady drumbeat. Statewide exposure. Get the name out. As long as we've got the frank, let's use it. It's a tenfold advantage over any challenger. Do you read me?" "Of course," Edward answered, offering a smile with, he hoped, the light of devotion in his eyes. Lily would have done it better, he thought bitterly. She had certainly proved her prowess on that score. Vivien's deduction offered a stunning revelation. Mornings! Perhaps every morning. It was humiliating. Yet it was odd how these crushing events had sharpened the power of their deductive instincts. Too bad he would have to forego the pleasures of revenge. He could not imagine how he might have reacted to the revelation if Lily were alive. Was he capable of murder? And how could she have lived with him under the same roof and gone through the motions of intimacy, while living in a cocoon of hypocrisy and leading him through a maze of falsehoods and contrivances? He wondered if all this discovery would have the desired effect on their lives, their future. Was it like cauterizing a wound? It burned, but it did kill the unwholesome bacteria. The cure is in the knowledge. This was essentially their purpose--to know more. There was no way to stop now.
CHATBOT
Kogda Edvard vernulsia v ofis, kongressmen i bol'shaia chast' sotrudnikov ushli na obed. Dzhen Piters sidela za svoim stolom, chitaia gazetu i ela buterbrod. "Ty v poriadke?" - sprosila ona. Eio stola bylo ne izbezhat'. S togo momenta, kak on prishiol, eio vnimanie bylo bezzhalostnym. "Tebe sledovalo vziat' bol'she vremeni," - skazala ona emu utrom. Eto bylo do ikh malen'koi besedy s kongressmenom Kholmsom. Dlia kongressmena vremia, provedennoe vne ofisa, priravnivalos' k smertnomu grekhu, kakimi by ni byli obstoiatel'stva. Ne to chtoby Edvard zhdal sostradaniia, no kongressmen mog by oboitis' bez slashchavoi sentimental'nosti, kotoraia byla smekhotvorno prozrachnoi. Kak govoritsia, eto vkhodilo v ego obiazannosti. K tomu zhe, chto by on delal so svoim dnem? On ne skorbel po Lili. Esli uzh na to poshlo, emu sledovalo skorbet' po svoei utrachennoi zhizni, kontsu svoei nevinnosti. Dazhe samosozhalenie kazalos' poverkhnostnym. Khotia by byla Viv'en. Viv. "Rabota pomozhet tebe, Eddi," - skazal kongressmen, prinimaia sootvetstvuiushchee vyrazhenie dlia takogo sluchaia, vzgliad iskrennei zaboty. "Da, ia veriu, chto pomozhet," - soglasilsia Edvard. "Ia znaiu, eto tiazhelo." Kak, chert voz'mi, on mog by znat'? - zadavalsia voprosom Edvard. Ran'she bylo legko imet' delo s litsemeriem, melkimi publichnymi lzhiami i pritvorstvami, kotorye byli iazykom politicheskoi torgovli. No teper', kogda oni pronikli v ego vnutrenniuiu zhizn', v ego real'nuiu zhizn', on ne mog eto terpet'. Lozh' est' lozh'. Net malen'kikh lzhi. "Esli ia mogu chem-to pomoch'..." - skazal kongressmen, zakanchivaia obiazatel'nye pustye utesheniia i vozvrashchaias' k delam. On nachal perechisliat' seriiu predlozhenii dlia press-relizov i zakonoproektov, idei dlia publichnogo vozdeistviia -- ego edinstvennoi nastoiashchei tseli. Edvard ispravno delal zapisi, ele razborchivye karakuli, no eta aktivnost' pridala emu vid iskrennego interesa. "Ekspozitsiia, Edvard. V etom vsia sut'. Postoiannyi barabannyi boi. Reklama po vsemu shtatu. Raskruchivanie imeni. Poka u nas est' pravo na frankirovanie, davaite pol'zuemsia im. Eto daet desiatikratnoe preimushchestvo pered liubym sopernikom. Ponimaesh' menia?" "Konechno," - otvetil Edvard, predlozhiv ulybku s, kak on nadeialsia, svetom predannosti v glazakh. Lili sdelala by eto luchshe, on gor'ko podumal ob etom. Ona tochno dokazala svoe umenie v etom napravlenii. Zakliuchenie Viv'en predostavilo porazitel'noe otkrytie. Utrami! Vozmozhno, kazhdoe utro. Eto bylo unizitel'no. Tem ne menee, stranno, kak eti izmatyvaiushchie sobytiia usilili silu ikh deduktivnykh instinktov. Zhal', chto on dolzhen byl otkazat'sia ot udovol'stviia ot mesti. On ne mog predstavit', kak by on otreagiroval na otkrovenie, esli by Lili byla zhiva. Sposoben li on na ubiistvo? I kak ona mogla zhit' s nim pod odnoi kryshei i sobliudat' vidimost' blizosti, zhivia v kokone litsemeriia i vodia ego po labirintu nepravdy i khitrosti? On zadumyvalsia, budut li vse eti otkrytiia imet' zhelaemoe vozdeistvie na ikh zhizni, ikh budushchee. Bylo li eto podobno prizhiganiiu rany? Eto zhglo, no unichtozhalo vrednye bakterii. Istselenie v znanii. Eto byla v sushchnosti ikh tsel' - znat' bol'she. Teper' ostanovit'sia bylo nevozmozhno.
USER
sdelai literaturnyi perevod na russkii iazyk: But acquiring knowledge demanded ingenuity, resourcefulness, and the kind of guile and cleverness that Orson and Lily had displayed. Think like them! Be them. If the trail cooled, what then? He remembered the keys. What did they unlock? Above all, they needed to know that, needed to find their filthy rat's nest. How did one begin? He remembered the police detective and forced his memory to recall his name. Then he picked up the phone and dialed police headquarters. Hadn't McCarthy found the key connection in the first place? "You'll have to speak up." The voice at the other end was gruff, impatient, remarkably like Vinnie's. "Sergeant McCarthy." The voice became muffled, fading, inquiring elsewhere. "Mac here?" The pause was short, and the voice returned in force. "He's off duty. Want to leave a message?" He gave his name and number by rote, regretting it instantly, then rationalizing. It was not as if he would be talking to a stranger. He sat in his office and stared at a blank page in his typewriter. His thoughts were disjointed, like flashing lights. He felt lightheaded, slightly foolish. All this is beyond my range of understanding, he decided. "Tell me how you feel," Vivien had demanded earlier, just before he got out of the car. The shame of it had released a blush of hot blood, blotching his skin with little red hives. "Like a damned fool." "Me, too," she had said, as if she knew how much he needed her reassuring echo. Jan Peters came in and she sat down. "I think you've got lots of courage to start work so soon after..." She paused respectfully. "Shows real class." "Thank you," he said, typing "quick brown fox" repetitively, feeling her eyes, watchful, mooning with mothering. "I just want you to know you have a friend in old Jan," she said in a throaty whisper. "I appreciate that," he said, not looking up. "Someone to confide in." She leaned over and touched his arm. "I mean it, Edward." He nodded, not wanting to create a scene. "Remember that, Edward." "I need lots of space now," he said, turning to face her. He knew her offer was sincere. "She was everything to you, wasn't she?" "Just about."
CHATBOT
No priobretenie znanii trebovalo izobretatel'nosti, initsiativnosti i takogo roda khitrosti i soobrazitel'nosti, kotorye demonstrirovali Orson i Lili. Dumai, kak oni! Stan' imi. Esli sled ostynet, chto togda? On vspomnil kliuchi. Chto oni otpiraiut? Prezhde vsego, im nuzhno bylo eto znat', nuzhno bylo naiti ikh griaznoe krysinoe gnezdo. S chego nachat'? On vspomnil detektiva politsii i prizval v pamiati ego imia. Zatem on podnial telefonnuiu trubku i nabral nomer politseiskogo upravleniia. Razve ne Makkarti v pervuiu ochered' obnaruzhil kliuchevoe zveno? "Govorite gromche." Golos na drugom kontse byl grubym, neterpelivym, udivitel'no napominaia Vinni. "Serzhant Makkarti," - skazal Edvard. Golos stal priglushennym, otdaliaiushchimsia, sprashivaiushchim gde-to eshche. "Mak zdes'?" Pauza byla korotkoi, i golos vernulsia s novoi siloi. "On ne na sluzhbe. Khotite ostavit' soobshchenie?" On mekhanicheski nazval svoe imia i nomer, srazu zhe pozhalel ob etom, a potom nachal ratsionalizirovat'. Ne tak uzh i plokho, ved' on budet govorit' ne s chuzhim chelovekom. On sidel v svoem kabinete, gliadia na pustoi list v pishushchei mashinke. Ego mysli byli razroznenny, kak mertsaiushchie ogni. On chuvstvoval sebia slegka legkomyslennym i nelepym. Vse eto vykhodit za predely moego ponimaniia, - reshil on. "Rasskazhi o svoikh chuvstvakh," - potrebovala Viv'en ranee, priamo pered tem, kak on vyshel iz mashiny. Styd ot etogo vyzval pristup zhara, i ego kozhu pokrasneli malen'kie krapinki. "Kak prokliatyi durak." "Ia tozhe," - skazala ona, slovno vedaia, naskol'ko on nuzhdalsia v eio uteshitel'nom ekhe. Dzhen Piters voshla i prisela. "Ia schitaiu, chto u tebia mnogo smelosti vernut'sia na rabotu tak skoro posle..." Ona sdelala vezhlivuiu pauzu. "Eto pokazyvaet nastoiashchii klass." "Spasibo," - skazal on, povtoriaia "bystryi korichnevyi lis" na mashinke, oshchushchaia eio vzgliad, polnyi zaboty i materinstva. "Ia prosto khochu, chtoby ty znal, chto u tebia est' drug v litse staroi Dzhen," - skazala ona khriplym shepotom. "Tseniu eto," - skazal on, ne podnimaia vzgliada. "Komu-to, komu mozhno doverit'sia." Ona naklonilas' i kosnulas' ego ruki. "Ia ser'ezno, Edvard." On kivnul, ne zhelaia sozdavat' stsenu. "Pomni ob etom, Edvard." "Mne seichas nuzhno mnogo prostranstva," - skazal on, povorachivaias' k nei litsom. On znal, chto eio predlozhenie bylo iskrennim. "Ona byla dlia tebia vsem, ne tak li?" "Pochti vsem."
USER
sdelai literaturnyi perevod na russkii iazyk: It occurred to him that he must dissimulate, live the role of the grieving husband. Only with Viv could he truly be himself. "It's dangerous to let someone be everything." He felt their office relationship disintegrating, and he fought off the attempt at intimacy. Yet she was so utterly, undeniably female, physically, symbolically as well, underscoring his pathetic ignorance about the entire gender. Who are these people? He knew nothing about them, he decided, and had learned nothing. The female as a species might have been Martians for all he understood. Lifting his eyes, he inspected her. Perhaps she could provide him with knowledge, insight. Dispel his ignorance. "And you?" he asked. He felt like a babe on her knee, a child to a mother. "Me?" Her eyes flashed a predatory look. "Have you many..." He paused, uncomfortable. He wanted to say lovers. "Boyfriends?" "More than a fair share," she answered, and her brows knit suspiciously. "Any of them in love with you?" It was, he knew, unthinkable to ask such a question. "I hope most of them." She giggled with girlish pride. "And you?" "Me?" The attempt at coyness was transparent. Learn from this, he urged himself. Trust nothing. "I love them all." "I'm serious." She looked at him, pondering. "You really are." "I told you." She seemed suddenly confused. "All right, then. Nobody special." "Ever?" "What's come over you?" "I want to know." "Know what?" "About women in love," he said, pressing. "I want to know if there ever was anyone who moved you, moved you so profoundly that your judgment became blind. Hurtful." "Hurtful?" Her eyes were big saucers, fierce, guarded, wary. "I never deliberately hurt anybody," she protested. He could tell he had gotten to her soft center. She grew silent, tossing her hair with a motion of her head. Then the belligerence ebbed.
CHATBOT
Emu prishlo v golovu, chto emu pridetsia pritvoriat'sia, zhit' rol'iu oplakivaiushchego supruga. Tol'ko s Viv on mog byt' samim soboi. "Opasno, kogda kto-to stanovitsia vsem dlia tebia." On pochuvstvoval razrushenie ikh ofisnykh otnoshenii i pytalsia soprotivliat'sia popytke blizosti. Odnako ona byla nastol'ko polnost'iu, neoproverzhimo zhenstvennoi, fizicheski, i simvolicheski tozhe, chto eto tol'ko podcherknulo ego zhalkoe nevedenie o vsem zhenskom pole. Kto eti liudi? On reshil, chto on nichego o nikh ne znaet i ne uznal nichego. Zhenshchina kak vid mogla byt' marsianami po vsemu, chto on ponimal. Podniav vzgliad, on razgliadyval eio. Vozmozhno, ona mogla by predostavit' emu znaniia, prozrenie. Razveiat' ego nevezhestvo. "A vy?" - sprosil on. On chuvstvoval sebia mladentsem na eio koleniakh, rebenkom pered mater'iu. "Ia?" Eio glaza vspykhnuli khishchnym bleskom. "U vas mnogo..." On sdelal pauzu, chuvstvuia nelovkost'. On khotel skazat' "liubovnikov". "Druzei-muzhchin?" "Bol'she, chem nemalo," - otvetila ona, i eio brovi nakhmurilis' podozritel'no. "Kakie-to iz nikh vliubleny v vas?" On znal, chto nevozmozhno zadat' takoi vopros. "Nadeius', bol'shinstvo iz nikh." Ona khikhiknula s devich'ei gordost'iu. "A vy?" "Ia?" Popytka stroit' iz sebia sirotu byla prozrachnoi. Uchis' na etom, - velel on sebe. Ne doveriai nichemu. "Ia vsekh ikh liubliu." "Ia ser'iozno." Ona posmotrela na nego, razdumyvaia. "Vy deistvitel'no ser'ezny." "Ia vam skazal." Ona vdrug pokazalas' ozadachennoi. "Ladno, znachit. Nikto osobennyi." "Nikogda?" "Chto s vami?" "Ia khochu znat'." "Znat' chto?" "O zhenshchinakh vliublennykh," - skazal on, nastaivaia. "Ia khochu uznat', byl li kogda-nibud' kto-to, kto potrias vas, potrias tak sil'no, chto vashe suzhdenie stalo slepym. Boleznennym." "Boleznennym?" Eio glaza byli bol'shimi tarelkami, iarkimi, nastorozhennymi, opaslivymi. "Ia nikogda ne prichiniala bol' namerenno," - vozrazila ona. On mog skazat', chto dostig eio nezhnogo tsentra. Ona zamolchala, otbrosila volosy dvizheniem golovy. Potom boevitost' spala.
USER
sdelai literaturnyi perevod na russkii iazyk: "Yes," she said, "I was moved once. For him I would have done anything. I mean anything. Given myself to him, body and soul. I would have died for him. That's what it's all about." She stood up. Her pose of sexuality vanished as she exhibited her vulnerability. Actually, he decided, he liked her better this way. "And what happened?" She looked at him, her lower lip trembling. She seemed to be gathering the shreds of a flimsy pride. "Why do you want to know?" "I've been damned nosy," he said. "You don't have to say. I'm just unstrung." That part was true. Turning away, he looked out the window. But, oddly eager to show her wounds, she did not wait the decent interval to recover. They either tell too much or not enough, he observed, wondering if there was some universal truth in that. Lily had deliberately kept him in ignorance. "It was the sweetest pain I ever felt. Problem is, it's like fire: very hot when it's going, cold when it runs out of fuel. They say such things can come only once in a lifetime, if ever. At least I had that. I've got no regrets." He thought about what she had said. Had he ever been willing to die for anybody? Even Lily? Never. He was sure of that. He felt her watching him, dreading any counter inquiries from her. None came. Perhaps she has no need to know about me. Maybe men are no mystery to her. She ambled off. The Congressman returned to the office in the late afternoon. He was irritable and annoyed. All outward concern for Edward's emotional state had vanished. Edward handed the Congressman Harvey Mills's press release. "It stinks," he snapped, frowning. "I'll spruce it up before I let it go." "There's a lot more that needs sprucing up here," the Congressman said, swiveling back in his chair and picking up the phone. I may not be a good judge of women, Edward thought, but I know this son of a bitch. As always, he stayed late, lifting his head from his typewriter to say good night to the rest of the staff, who left one by one. Even the Congressman poked his head into his office. "It'll do you good," he called, placating him. "Get us back on the track." When he had gone, Edward continued to stare at his typewriter. He had not turned the release back to Harvey Mills for a rewrite and hadn't the faintest idea how to "spruce it up." Harvey Mills came in. "All right if I check out?" he asked. He looked neater than before. A haircut, that's it, Edward thought. He wants my job. It wasn't paranoia, merely the recognition of a fact. So, his instincts had sharpened. It was a comforting thought. He seemed to have lost all sense of command over himself, over others. There's insight for you, he told himself.
CHATBOT
"Da," - skazala ona, - "kogda-to menia tronulo. Radi nego ia byla gotova na vsio. Ia podrazumevaiu absoliutno vsio. Otdala by sebia emu, dushoi i telom. Byla gotova umeret' za nego. V etom i zakliuchaetsia sut'." Ona vstala. Eio poza obol'shcheniia ischezla, kogda ona pokazala svoiu uiazvimost'. Na samom dele, on reshil, ona emu nravilas' bol'she takoi. "I chto sluchilos'?" Ona posmotrela na nego, trepetavshaia nizhniaia guba. Kazalos', ona sobirala ostatki khrupkogo dostoinstva. "Zachem tebe eto znat'?" "Ia byl chereschur liubopyten," - skazal on. "Ty ne obiazana otvechat'. Ia prosto poterial samoobladanie." Eto byla chast' pravdy. Otvernuvshis', on posmotrel v okno. No, k ego udivleniiu, ona byla polna zhelaniia pokazat' svoi rany i ne stala zhdat' momenta, chtoby vosstanovit'sia. Oni libo rasskazyvaiut slishkom mnogo, libo slishkom malo, - zametil on, dumaia o tom, ne kroetsia li v etom kakaia-to vselenskaia istina. Lili namerenno derzhala ego v nevedenii. "Eto byla samaia sladkaia bol', kotoruiu ia kogda-libo ispytyvala. Problema v tom, chto eto pokhozhe na ogon': ochen' goriachee, poka gorit, kholodnoe, kogda toplivo konchaetsia. Govoriat, chto takie veshchi byvaiut tol'ko raz za zhizn', esli voobshche byvaiut. Khotia by eto u menia bylo. U menia net sozhalenii." On razmyshlial nad ee slovami. Byl li on kogda-nibud' gotov umeret' za kogo-to? Dazhe za Lili? Nikogda. On byl uveren v etom. On pochuvstvoval, kak ona nabliudaet za nim, opasaias' ego vozmozhnykh voprosov. No ikh ne posledovalo. Vozmozhno, ei ne nuzhno bylo znat' o nem. Vozmozhno, muzhchiny dlia nee nikakoi zagadki ne predstavliali. Ona ushla netoroplivo. Kongressmen vernulsia v ofis v pozdnii vecher. On byl razdrazhen i nasuplen. Vsia vidimost' zaboty o psikhologicheskom sostoianii Edvarda ischezla. Edvard peredal kongressmenu press-reliz Garvi Millsa. "Eto otstoi," - rezko skazal kongressmen, nakhmurivshis'. "Ia podpravliu ego, prezhde chem otpravliu." "Zdes' mnogoe nuzhno podpravit'," - skazal kongressmen, vrashchaias' v kresle i skhvativ telefon. Ia mogu byt' ne luchshim sud'ei zhenshchin, - podumal Edvard, - no ia znaiu, chto etot paren' sukin syn. Kak obychno, on zaderzhalsia dopozdna, podnimaia golovu ot pishushchei mashinki, chtoby pozhelat' spokoinoi nochi ostal'nym sotrudnikam, kotorye ukhodili odin za drugim. Dazhe kongressmen zaglianul v ego kabinet. "Tebe ot etogo budet khorosho," - skazal on, uspokaivaia ego. "Vernem nas na pravil'nyi put'." Kogda on ushel, Edvard prodolzhal smotret' na svoiu pishushchuiu mashinku. On ne peredal nazad reliz Garvi Millsu na perepisyvanie i ne imel ni maleishego predstavleniia o tom, kak "priukrasit'" ego. Garvi Mills zashel. "Mozhno ia poidu?" - sprosil on. On vygliadel opriatnee, chem ran'she. Strizhka, vot chto, - podumal Edvard. On khochet moei raboty. Eto bylo ne paranoiei, prosto priznanie fakta. Instinkty u nego obostrilis'. Eto bylo uteshitel'noi mysl'iu. On, kazalos', poterial vsiakoe chuvstvo kontrolia nad soboi, nad drugimi. Vot ona, prozorlivost' dlia tebia, - skazal on sebe.
USER
sdelai literaturnyi perevod na russkii iazyk: "Sure, Harvey," he said. "The old man like the release?" "Loved it. Gets out first thing in the morning." It would go as is. The Congressman rarely looked at things again, trusting Edward to get it right. Jan came in again, freshly made-up. She was not wearing her coat and had not come in to say good night. He realized suddenly that his earlier conversation had set up an intimacy he had not intended. "Buy you a drink?" she asked, reassembled now, her full body puffed to its outer limits. For a moment he contemplated it seriously, assailed by a flash of die old guilt. "She's gone, Edward," Jan said. "Gone?" Actually, he was thinking of Viv, a new ripple for his conscience. It confused him momentarily. The phone rang. He picked up the receiver and swiveled away from her. McCarthy's voice crackled over the background noises. "There was something I wanted to talk to you about," Edward said. "Sure." In the pause, the noises grew louder. "I'm at The Dubliner, across from Union Station. You know it?" It wasn't far. He could cut across the park in front of the Capitol. Pondering, he swiveled and looked at Jan again, still offering herself. No, he decided, she wasn't part of it. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes," he said. "Maybe sometime." Jan shrugged, unable to conceal her disappointment.
CHATBOT
"Konechno, Garvi," - skazal on. "Stariku ponravilsia reliz?" "V vostorge. Zavtra s utra otpravim." I on otpravit ego takim, kak est'. Kongressmen redko peresmatrival veshchi vnov', doveriaia Edvardu sdelat' vse pravil'no. Dzhen snova zashla, tol'ko chto podpraviv makiiazh. Ona ne nadela pal'to i ne prishla skazat' "dobroi nochi". On vdrug osoznal, chto ikh bolee rannii razgovor sozdal intimnost', kotoruiu on ne prednaznachal. "Ugostit' tebia napitkom?" - sprosila ona, vnov' sobravshis' i raspravivshis' do predela. Na mgnovenie on vser'ez rassmotrel ee predlozhenie, ispytyvaia vsplesk staroi viny. "Eio bol'she net, Edvard," - skazala Dzhen. "Kto, net?" Na samom dele on dumal o Viv, novoi volne dlia ego sovesti. Eto na mgnovenie smutilo ego. Telefon zazvonil. On snial trubku i otvernulsia ot nee. Golos Makkarti zaiskrilsia na fone shuma. "Est' chto-to, o chem ia khotel by s toboi pogovorit'," - skazal Edvard. "Konechno." V pauze shum stal gromche. "Ia v 'Dublinere', naprotiv Iunion-Steishn. Ty znaesh' eto mesto?" Eto bylo nedaleko. On mog peresech' park pered Kapitoliem. Razmyshliaia, on povernulsia i snova posmotrel na Dzhen, kotoraia vse eshche predlagala sebia. Net, reshil on, ona ne vkhodit v eto. "Budu tam cherez piatnadtsat' minut," - skazal on. "Mozhet byt' v drugoi raz." Dzhen pozhala plechami, ne v silakh skryt' svoe razocharovanie.
USER
sdelai literaturnyi perevod na russkii iazyk: From a booth in the rear, McCarthy watched Edward squint into layers of smoke and turn his head in a slow arc. The damages were showing now, he thought. The poor bastard had bitten the apple. McCarthy upended his shot glass of Scotch and chased it with a flat beer, just as Edward slid into the booth. "What's your poison?" He caught the man's indifference to his offer, the indifference of shock. Like a punch-drunk fighter. So the real world had settled back in, but it was not the original reality. Everything had changed. "Same as you." Edward shrugged. Another symptom. Decisions were impossible, painful. Judgment had ceased. The man was up shit's creek without a paddle. A blowzy waitress brought shot glasses of Scotch and beer chasers. As Edward observed the scene, McCarthy could see it was, for his visitor, a foreign world. "The old ethnic tie," McCarthy said. "We Irish always feel uprooted. That's why we need each other." Edward followed his gaze. "Like the Italians," he said. "My wife was one." "Wops. Kikes. Niggers. Spics. Chinks. The family of man. At least with your own kind you know where you stand." "Do you?" The man sighed and watched the shot glass, his fingers caressing a metal ashtray. Brooding, McCarthy thought. Understandably. The man's world had closed in on him. Hell, I did what I could for the sad son of a bitch. "Make peace with it, man," McCarthy said, knocking back his drink, wiping his lips with his sleeve, then chasing it down with a swallow of beer and wiping again. "I'm doing okay," Edward said defensively. He didn't look it. McCarthy wondered what the man wanted, but he did not push. It would come. After all, they shared secrets. Not all, but enough to bond them. The Simpson woman was tougher, he decided. Burned the bastard. He liked that. Women were tougher, meaner. They always let men on the ropes. Like Billie. Let your guard down once, and they're all over you, chopping away. While waiting, McCarthy had debated a position. He could dispense trite advice which would be utterly worthless, or he could tell him what he had learned, that a woman's betrayal had no known cure. He would find that out. Everything depended on trust. When trust went out, out went the props. The best you could do was, like him, hold yourself together and wait for the ice wagon. You should thank me--he looked silently at the brooding man--for easing the pain a bit. Too much knowledge was the enemy. "Timmy's yours," Billie had pleaded on her knees in the motel room, making the sign of the cross across her bare breasts as if that were proof positive. "Timmy's his." Jim sat there on the bed, mute, head in his hands, hunched to hide his obscene nakedness. Yet even then, the real enemy was the woman--Billie. Jim, like him, was just an instrument. A dick. He had been dead certain then about Timmy's ancestry, and although the certainty had faded with time, the doubt lingered, spoiling it all forever. To make it worse, he was her image: blue eyes, fair skin, ginger hair, slight, small-boned. Wasn't a thing about him that hinted of himself. Or Jim. As if he had deliberately played on them both the trick of being created in her image.
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Iz kabinki v zadnei chasti Makkarti nabliudal, kak Edvard morshchilsia, probiraias' skvoz' sloi dyma, i medlenno povorachival golovu. Uvidennoe zastavilo ego dumat' o sledakh ushcherba. Bednyi paren' otkusil iabloko. Makkarti perevernul svoi pustoi stakanchik viski i zapil ego ploskim pivom, kak raz kogda Edvard skol'znul v kabinku. "Chto budesh' pit'?" On zametil bezrazlichie muzhchiny k ego predlozheniiu -- bezrazlichie shoka. Kak u boksera posle tiazhiologo poedinka. Tak chto real'nyi mir vernulsia, no eto uzhe ne byla iskhodnaia real'nost'. Vsio izmenilos'. "To zhe, chto i ty." Edvard pozhal plechami. Eshchio odin simptom. Nevozmozhnost' prinimat' resheniia, muchitel'no. Rassudok pritupilsia. Chelovek byl v glubokom der'me i bez viosel. Raskoriachennaia ofitsiantka prinesla stakanchiki viski i pivo dlia zakuski. Makkarti videl, chto dlia ego gostia eto byl chuzhdyi mir. "Staraia etnicheskaia sviaz'," - skazal Makkarti. "My, irlandtsy, vsegda oshchushchaem sebia vyrvannymi s korniami. Poetomu nam nuzhny drug druga." Edvard posledoval za ego vzgliadom. "Kak ital'iantsy," - skazal on. "Moia zhena byla odnoi iz nikh." "Vopy. Zhidy. Negry. Ispantsy. Kitaitsy. Sem'ia chelovechestva. Po krainei mere, so svoimi ty znaesh', na chem stoish'." "Ty eto?" Muzhchina vzdokhnul i posmotrel na stakanchik, poglazhivaia pal'tsami metallicheskuiu pepel'nitsu. Zadumchivost', podumal Makkarti. Poniatno. Mir muzhchiny szhalsia vokrug nego. Chert, ia sdelal dlia goremyki vsio, chto mog. "Naidi mir s etim, chuvak," - skazal Makkarti, vypivaia svoiu portsiiu, vytiraia guby rukavom, potom zapivaia pivom i snova vytiraias'. "Ia spravliaius'," - zashchitno otvetil Edvard. Ne pokhozhe na to. Makkarti zadumalsia, chego zhe khochet etot muzhchina, no ne stal nastaivat'. On poluchit eto. Ved' oni razdeliali sekrety. Ne vse, no dostatochno, chtoby sviazat' ikh. Zhenshchina Simpson byla zhiostche, on reshil. Sozhgla ubliudka. Eto emu nravilos'. Zhenshchiny bolee stoikie, zlee. Oni vsegda staviat muzhchin v ugol. Kak Billi. Opustish' strazhu odin raz, i oni navalivaiutsia, vzryvaia vsio. Poka zhdal, Makkarti obdumyval pozitsiiu. Mog by on davat' trivial'nye sovety, kotorye byli by sovershenno bespolezny, ili mog by rasskazat' emu o tom, chemu on nauchilsia, chto predatel'stvo zhenshchiny ne imeet izvestnogo lekarstva. On uznaet eto. Vsio zavisit ot doveriia. Kogda doverie ukhodit, padaiut vse opory. Luchshee, chto on mog sdelat', kak i sam, - sderzhat' sebia i zhdat' furgona so l'dom. Ty dolzhen byt' mne blagodaren -- on smotrel molcha na zadumchivogo muzhchinu -- za to, chto ia nemnogo oblegchil bol'. Slishkom mnogo znaniia bylo vragom. "Timmi tvoi," - umoliala Billi na koleniakh v motele, delaia krestnoe znamenie na svoikh golykh grudiakh, kak budto eto bylo neoproverzhimym dokazatel'stvom. "Timmi ego." Dzhim sidel tam na krovati, molcha, derzha golovu v rukakh, sgorbivshis', chtoby skryt' svoiu nepristoinuiu nagotu. No dazhe togda nastoiashchim vragom byla zhenshchina -- Billi. Dzhim, kak i on, byl vsego lish' instrumentom. Chlenom. On byl togda absoliutno uveren v proiskhozhdenii Timmi, i khotia eta uverennost' so vremenem ugasla, somneniia ostavalis', portia vsio navsegda. Usugubit' situatsiiu eshchio bol'she -- on byl tak pokhozh na neio: golubye glaza, svetlaia kozha, ryzhie volosy, khrupkii, nevysokii. Ne bylo v nem nichego, chto namekalo by na nego samogo. Ili na Dzhima. Budto on umyshlenno poshutil nad oboimi, sozdav sebia v ee obraze.
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perevedi na literaturnyi russkii iazyk: "I've got some ideas that are bothering me," Edward said, clearing his throat. Who hasn't? McCarthy chuckled to himself. "I did you a favor, pal. Leave it alone," McCarthy said. "You don't really think about these things until later." "That's the way it is." "Things keep coming up." "I kept it between us, didn't I?" Edward nodded, but McCarthy could not detect real gratitude. "That lawyer would have blown it out of all proportion. Wouldn't have done anyone any good. Fucking lawyers. Then the newspapers would have had it. Better for everyone. For her, too. And the kid." McCarthy looked around for the waitress and held up two fingers, scowling at Edward who had not touched his drink. "Do you good," McCarthy ordered, motioning with his eyes. Obeying, Edward lifted his drink with shaking fingers. He took it in one gulp, gagged, and washed it down quickly with the beer, leaving a foamy mustache. You'd be taking doubles if I had told you the rest, McCarthy thought. "I buried her yesterday," Edward said when he had caught his breath. "Best place for 'em," McCarthy said, hearing his speech slur and feeling the cold grip of anger tighten. Drink could make him cruel. What in hell did this bastard want? "We've been comparing notes, Mrs. Simpson and I," Davis blurted. "Have you?" "We have the keys. All we need is the place." "Need?" "Well, we believe," Edward stammered, "that it's important to know as much as we can." "What will that prove?" Edward ignored the question. "The point is, how does one go about matching keys to locks?" McCarthy smiled. "They don't. Unless they're registered like Medeco. Or there's an army out there sticking keys in locks--say battalionsize. There are hundreds of thousands of doors." The waitress brought two more shots. McCarthy stared at them in their wet circles, resisting. This time it was Edward who reached first for the shot glass, knocking it back, not gagging. He did not chase it down with the beer.
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"U menia est' nekotorye mysli, kotorye menia bespokoiat," - skazal Edvard, ochishchaia gorlo. U kogo ikh net? Makkarti usmekhnulsia pro sebia. "Ia sdelal tebe odolzhenie, priiatel'. Ostav' eto," - skazal Makkarti. "Ob etikh veshchakh ne dumaesh', poka ne nastupit potom." "Takova zhizn'." "Veshchi prodolzhaiut vsplyvat'." "Ia ostavil eto mezhdu nami, ne tak li?" Edvard kivnul, no Makkarti ne mog razgliadet' nastoiashchuiu blagodarnost'. "Tot advokat by raskrutil eto do nemyslimykh razmerov. Ne prineslo by pol'zy nikomu. Chertovy advokaty. Potom gazety by vzialis' za eto. Luchshe dlia vsekh. Dlia neio tozhe. I dlia rebenka." Makkarti osmotrelsia za ofitsiantkoi i podnial dva pal'tsa, koso pogliadyvaia na Edvarda, kotoryi ne trogal svoi napitok. "Tol'ko na pol'zu budet," - Makkarti prikazal, dvizheniem glaz ukazyvaia na stakan. Podchiniaias', Edvard s drozhashchimi pal'tsami podnial svoi stakan. On opustoshil ego odnim glotkom, glukho zalepetal i bystro proglotil pivo, ostaviv na usakh penu. Ty by zamakhival po dvoinym portsiiam,