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- Джером Дэвид Сэлинджер
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- Девять рассказов
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- Стр. 143/159
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"
I
hate
you
!
I
hate
everybody
in
this
ocean
!
"
Booper
called
after
him
.
Below
the
Sports
Deck
,
on
the
broad
,
after
end
of
the
Sun
Deck
,
uncompromisingly
alfresco
,
were
some
seventy
-
five
or
more
deck
chairs
,
set
up
and
aligned
seven
or
eight
rows
deep
,
with
aisles
just
wide
enough
for
the
deck
steward
to
use
without
unavoidably
tripping
over
the
sunning
passengers
’
paraphernalia
knitting
bags
,
dust
-
jacketed
novels
,
bottles
of
sun
-
tan
lotion
,
cameras
.
The
area
was
crowded
when
Teddy
arrived
.
He
started
at
the
rearmost
row
and
moved
methodically
,
from
row
to
row
,
stopping
at
each
chair
,
whether
or
not
it
was
occupied
,
to
read
the
name
placard
on
its
arm
.
Only
one
or
two
of
the
reclining
passengers
spoke
to
him
—
that
is
,
made
any
of
the
commonplace
pleasantries
adults
are
sometimes
prone
to
make
to
a
ten
-
year
-
old
boy
who
is
single
-
mindedly
looking
for
the
chair
that
belongs
to
him
.
His
youngness
and
single
-
mindedness
were
obvious
enough
,
but
perhaps
his
general
demeanor
altogether
lacked
,
or
had
too
little
of
,
that
sort
of
cute
solemnity
that
many
adults
readily
speak
up
,
or
down
,
to
.
His
clothes
may
have
had
something
to
do
with
it
,
too
.
The
hole
in
the
shoulder
of
his
T
shirt
was
not
a
cute
hole
.
The
excess
material
in
the
seat
of
his
seersucker
shorts
,
the
excess
length
of
the
shorts
themselves
,
were
not
cute
excesses
.
The
McArdles
’
four
deck
chairs
,
cushioned
and
ready
for
occupancy
,
were
situated
in
the
middle
of
the
second
row
from
the
front
.
Teddy
sat
down
in
one
of
them
so
that
—
whether
or
not
it
was
his
intention
—
no
one
was
sitting
directly
on
either
side
of
him
.
He
stretched
out
his
bare
,
unsuntanned
legs
,
feet
together
,
on
the
leg
rest
,
and
,
almost
simultaneously
,
took
a
small
,
ten
-
cent
notebook
out
of
his
right
hip
pocket
.
Then
,
with
instantly
one
-
pointed
concentration
,
as
if
only
he
and
the
notebook
existed
—
no
sunshine
,
no
fellow
passengers
,
no
ship
—
,
he
began
to
turn
the
pages
.
With
the
exception
of
a
very
few
pencil
notations
,
the
entries
in
the
notebook
had
apparently
all
been
made
with
a
ball
-
point
pen
.
The
handwriting
itself
was
manuscript
style
,
such
as
is
currently
being
taught
in
American
schools
,
instead
of
the
old
,
Palmer
method
.
It
was
legible
without
being
pretty
-
pretty
.
The
flow
was
what
was
remarkable
about
the
handwriting
.
In
no
sense
—
no
mechanical
sense
,
at
any
rate
—
did
the
words
and
sentences
look
as
though
they
had
been
written
by
a
child
.
Teddy
gave
considerable
reading
time
to
what
looked
like
his
most
recent
entry
.
It
covered
a
little
more
than
three
pages
:
Diary
for
October
27
,
1952
Property
of
Theodore
McArdle
412
A
Deck
