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- Джером Дэвид Сэлинджер
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He
heard
her
.
He
put
his
left
foot
up
on
the
window
seat
and
rested
his
injured
hand
on
the
horizontal
thigh
.
He
continued
to
look
down
at
the
street
.
"
They
’
re
all
goin
’
over
to
the
goddam
draft
board
,
"
he
said
.
"
We
’
re
gonna
fight
the
Eskimos
next
.
Know
that
?
"
"
The
who
?
"
said
Ginnie
.
"
The
Eskimos
.
.
.
.
Open
your
ears
,
for
Chrissake
.
"
"
Why
the
Eskimos
?
"
"
I
don
’
t
know
why
.
How
the
hell
should
I
know
why
?
This
time
all
the
old
guys
’
re
gonna
go
.
Guys
around
sixty
.
Nobody
can
go
unless
they
’
re
around
sixty
,
"
he
said
.
"
Just
give
’
em
shorter
hours
is
all
.
.
.
.
Big
deal
.
"
"
You
wouldn
’
t
have
to
go
,
anyway
,
"
Ginnie
said
,
without
meaning
anything
but
the
truth
,
yet
knowing
before
the
statement
was
completely
out
that
she
was
saying
the
wrong
thing
.
"
I
know
,
"
he
said
quickly
,
and
took
his
foot
down
from
the
window
seat
.
He
raised
the
window
slightly
and
snapped
his
cigarette
streetward
.
Then
he
turned
,
finished
at
the
window
.
"
Hey
.
Do
me
a
favor
.
When
this
guy
comes
,
willya
tell
him
I
’
ll
be
ready
in
a
coupla
seconds
?
I
just
gotta
shave
is
all
.
O
.
K
.
?
"
Ginnie
nodded
.
"
Ya
want
me
to
hurry
Selena
up
or
anything
?
She
know
you
’
re
here
?
"
