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- Джон Стейнбек
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Is
there
anyone
who
has
not
wondered
about
the
decisions
and
acts
and
campaigns
of
the
mighty
of
the
earth
?
Are
they
born
in
reasoning
and
dictated
by
virtue
or
can
some
of
them
be
the
products
of
accidents
,
of
daydreaming
,
of
imagining
,
of
the
stories
we
tell
ourselves
?
I
know
exactly
how
long
I
had
been
playing
a
game
of
imagining
because
I
know
it
started
with
the
Morph
’
s
rules
for
successful
bank
robbery
.
I
had
gone
over
his
words
with
a
childish
pleasure
adults
ordinarily
will
not
admit
.
It
was
a
play
game
that
ran
parallel
with
the
store
’
s
life
and
everything
that
happened
seemed
to
fall
into
place
in
the
game
.
The
leaking
toilet
,
the
Mickey
Mouse
mask
Allen
wanted
,
the
account
of
the
opening
of
the
safe
.
New
curves
and
angles
dropped
into
place
,
the
Kleenex
nudged
in
the
door
lock
in
the
alley
.
Little
by
little
the
game
grew
,
but
entirely
in
the
mind
until
this
morning
.
Putting
the
scale
weight
on
the
toilet
chain
was
the
first
physical
contribution
I
had
made
to
the
mental
ballet
.
Getting
the
old
pistol
out
was
the
second
.
And
now
I
began
to
wonder
about
the
timing
.
The
game
was
growing
in
precision
.
I
still
carry
my
father
’
s
big
silver
Hamilton
railroad
watch
with
thick
hands
and
big
black
numbers
,
a
wonderful
watch
for
time
-
telling
,
if
not
for
beauty
.
This
morning
I
put
it
in
my
shirt
pocket
before
I
swept
out
the
store
.
And
I
checked
the
time
so
that
at
five
minutes
to
nine
I
had
the
front
doors
open
and
had
just
taken
the
first
deliberate
broom
strokes
at
the
sidewalk
.
It
’
s
amazing
how
much
dirt
accumulates
over
a
weekend
,
and
what
with
the
rain
,
the
dirt
was
slush
.
What
a
wonderful
precision
instrument
is
our
bank
—
like
my
father
’
s
railroad
watch
.
At
five
minutes
of
nine
Mr
.
Baker
came
into
the
wind
from
Elm
Street
.
Harry
Robbit
and
Edith
Alden
must
have
been
watching
.
They
backed
out
of
the
Foremaster
Grill
and
joined
him
midstreet
.
"
Morning
,
Mr
.
Baker
,
"
I
called
.
"
Morning
,
Edith
.
Morning
,
Harry
.
"
"
Good
morning
,
Ethan
.
You
’
re
going
to
need
a
hose
for
that
!
"
They
entered
the
bank
.
I
leaned
my
broom
in
the
store
entrance
,
took
the
weight
from
the
scale
,
went
behind
the
cash
register
,
opened
the
drawer
,
and
went
through
fast
but
deliberate
pantomime
.
I
walked
to
the
storeroom
,
hung
the
weight
on
the
toilet
chain
.
Hooked
the
skirt
of
my
apron
over
the
belly
band
,
put
on
my
raincoat
,
and
stepped
to
the
back
door
and
opened
it
a
crack
.
As
the
black
minute
hand
of
my
watch
crossed
twelve
the
clock
bell
of
the
firehouse
began
bonging
.
I
counted
eight
steps
across
the
alley
and
then
in
my
mind
twenty
steps
.
I
moved
my
hand
but
not
my
lips
—
allowed
ten
seconds
,
moved
my
hand
again
.
All
this
I
saw
in
my
mind
—
I
counted
while
my
hands
made
certain
movements
—
twenty
steps
,
quick
but
deliberate
,
then
eight
more
steps
.
I
closed
the
alley
door
,
took
off
my
raincoat
,
unhooked
my
apron
,
went
into
the
toilet
,
took
the
weight
off
the
chain
and
stopped
the
flushing
,
moved
back
of
the
counter
,
opened
the
drawer
,
opened
my
hatbox
and
closed
and
strapped
it
,
went
back
to
the
entrance
,
took
up
my
broom
,
and
looked
at
the
watch
.
It
was
two
minutes
and
twenty
seconds
past
nine
o
’
clock
;
pretty
good
,
but
with
a
little
practice
it
could
be
cut
under
two
minutes
.
I
was
only
half
finished
with
the
sidewalk
when
Stoney
,
the
chief
constable
,
came
across
from
the
Foremaster
Grill
.
"
Morning
,
Eth
.
Gimme
a
quick
half
-
pound
of
butter
,
pound
of
bacon
,
bottle
of
milk
,
and
a
dozen
eggs
.
My
wife
run
out
of
everything
.
"
