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- Стр. 142/232
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Only
if
we
're
caught
and
punished
can
we
be
saved
.
"
Burn
the
Louvre
,
"
the
mechanic
says
,
"
and
wipe
your
ass
with
the
Mona
Lira
.
This
way
at
least
,
God
would
know
our
names
.
"
The
lower
you
fall
,
the
higher
you
'll
fly
.
The
farther
you
run
,
the
more
God
wants
you
back
.
"
If
the
prodigal
son
had
never
left
home
,
"
the
mechanic
says
,
"
the
fitted
calf
would
still
be
alive
.
"
It
's
not
enough
to
be
numbered
with
the
grains
of
sand
on
the
beach
and
the
stars
in
the
sky
.
The
mechanic
merges
the
black
Corniche
onto
the
old
bypass
highway
with
no
passing
lane
,
and
already
a
line
of
trucks
strings
together
behind
us
,
going
the
legal
speed
limit
.
The
Corniche
fills
up
with
the
headlights
behind
us
,
and
there
we
are
,
talking
,
reflected
in
the
inside
of
the
windshield
.
Driving
inside
the
speed
limit
.
As
fast
as
the
law
allows
.
A
law
is
a
law
,
Tyler
would
say
.
Driving
too
fast
was
the
same
as
setting
a
fire
was
the
same
as
planting
a
bomb
was
the
same
as
shooting
a
man
.
A
criminal
is
a
criminal
is
a
criminal
.
"
Last
week
,
we
could
've
filled
another
four
fight
clubs
,
"
the
mechanic
says
.
"
Maybe
Big
Bob
can
take
over
running
the
next
chapter
if
we
find
a
bar
.
"
