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- Джозеф Хеллер
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- Уловка 22
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- Стр. 242/452
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"
Is
that
a
fact
?
"
mused
Milo
,
and
was
gone
,
sliding
from
his
chair
so
swiftly
that
his
striped
barber
’
s
apron
retained
his
shape
for
a
second
or
two
after
he
had
gone
before
it
collapsed
.
Milo
had
vanished
from
sight
by
the
time
Yossarian
and
Orr
rushed
after
him
to
the
doorway
.
"
Next
?
"
barked
Milo
’
s
deputy
mayor
officiously
.
"
Who
’
s
next
?
"
Yossarian
and
Orr
walked
from
the
barbershop
in
dejection
.
Deserted
by
Milo
,
they
trudged
homelessly
through
the
reveling
masses
in
futile
search
of
a
place
to
sleep
.
Yossarian
was
exhausted
.
His
head
throbbed
with
a
dull
,
debilitating
pain
,
and
he
was
irritable
with
Orr
,
who
had
found
two
crab
apples
somewhere
and
walked
with
them
in
his
cheeks
until
Yossarian
spied
them
there
and
made
him
take
them
out
.
Then
Orr
found
two
horse
chestnuts
somewhere
and
slipped
those
in
until
Yossarian
detected
them
and
snapped
at
him
again
to
take
the
crab
apples
out
of
his
mouth
.
Orr
grinned
and
replied
that
they
were
not
crab
apples
but
horse
chestnuts
and
that
they
were
not
in
his
mouth
but
in
his
hands
,
but
Yossarian
was
not
able
to
understand
a
single
word
he
said
because
of
the
horse
chestnuts
in
his
mouth
and
made
him
take
them
out
anyway
.
A
sly
light
twinkled
in
Orr
’
s
eyes
.
He
rubbed
his
forehead
harshly
with
his
knuckles
,
like
a
man
in
an
alcoholic
stupor
,
and
snickered
lewdly
.
"
Do
you
remember
that
girl
—
"
He
broke
off
to
snicker
lewdly
again
.
"
Do
you
remember
that
girl
who
was
hitting
me
over
the
head
with
that
shoe
in
that
apartment
in
Rome
,
when
we
were
both
naked
?
"
he
asked
with
a
look
of
cunning
expectation
.
He
waited
until
Yossarian
nodded
cautiously
.
"
If
you
let
me
put
the
chestnuts
back
in
my
mouth
I
’
ll
tell
you
why
she
was
hitting
me
.
Is
that
a
deal
?
"
Yossarian
nodded
,
and
Orr
told
him
the
whole
fantastic
story
of
why
the
naked
girl
in
Nately
’
s
whore
’
s
apartment
was
hitting
him
over
the
head
with
her
shoe
,
but
Yossarian
was
not
able
to
understand
a
single
word
because
the
horse
chestnuts
were
back
in
his
mouth
.
Yossarian
roared
with
exasperated
laughter
at
the
trick
,
but
in
the
end
there
was
nothing
for
them
to
do
when
night
fell
but
eat
a
damp
dinner
in
a
dirty
restaurant
and
hitch
a
ride
back
to
the
airfield
,
where
they
slept
on
the
chill
metal
floor
of
the
plane
and
turned
and
tossed
in
groaning
torment
until
the
truck
drivers
blasted
up
less
than
two
hours
later
with
their
crates
of
artichokes
and
chased
them
out
onto
the
ground
while
they
filled
up
the
plane
.
A
heavy
rain
began
falling
.
Yossarian
and
Orr
were
dripping
wet
by
the
time
the
trucks
drove
away
and
had
no
choice
but
to
squeeze
themselves
back
into
the
plane
and
roll
themselves
up
like
shivering
anchovies
between
the
jolting
corners
of
the
crates
of
artichokes
that
Milo
flew
up
to
Naples
at
dawn
and
exchanged
for
the
cinnamon
sticks
,
cloves
,
vanilla
beans
and
pepper
pods
that
he
rushed
right
back
down
south
with
that
same
day
to
Malta
,
where
,
it
turned
out
,
he
was
Assistant
Governor
-
General
.
There
was
no
room
for
Yossarian
and
Orr
in
Malta
either
.
Milo
was
Major
Sir
Milo
Minderbinder
in
Malta
and
had
a
gigantic
office
in
the
governor
-
general
’
s
building
.
His
mahogany
desk
was
immense
.
In
a
panel
of
the
oak
wall
,
between
crossed
British
flags
,
hung
a
dramatic
arresting
photograph
of
Major
Sir
Milo
Minderbinder
in
the
dress
uniform
of
the
Royal
Welsh
Fusiliers
.
His
mustache
in
the
photograph
was
clipped
and
narrow
,
his
chin
was
chiseled
,
and
his
eyes
were
sharp
as
thorns
.
Milo
had
been
knighted
,
commissioned
a
major
in
the
Royal
Welsh
Fusiliers
and
named
Assistant
Governor
-
General
of
Malta
because
he
had
brought
the
egg
trade
there
.
He
gave
Yossarian
and
Orr
generous
permission
to
spend
the
night
on
the
thick
carpet
in
his
office
,
but
shortly
after
he
left
a
sentry
in
battle
dress
appeared
and
drove
them
from
the
building
at
the
tip
of
his
bayonet
,
and
they
rode
out
exhaustedly
to
the
airport
with
a
surly
cab
driver
,
who
overcharged
them
,
and
went
to
sleep
inside
the
plane
again
,
which
was
filled
now
with
leaking
gunny
sacks
of
cocoa
and
freshly
ground
coffee
and
reeking
with
an
odor
so
rich
that
they
were
both
outside
retching
violently
against
the
landing
gear
when
Milo
was
chauffeured
up
the
first
thing
the
next
morning
,
looking
fit
as
a
fiddle
,
and
took
right
off
for
Oran
,
where
there
was
again
no
room
at
the
hotel
for
Yossarian
and
Orr
,
and
where
Milo
was
Vice
-
Shah
.
Milo
had
at
his
disposal
sumptuous
quarters
inside
a
salmon
-
pink
palace
,
but
Yossarian
and
Orr
were
not
allowed
to
accompany
him
inside
because
they
were
Christian
infidels
.
They
were
stopped
at
the
gates
by
gargantuan
Berber
guards
with
scimitars
and
chased
away
.
Orr
was
snuffling
and
sneezing
with
a
crippling
head
cold
.
Yossarian
’
s
broad
back
was
bent
and
aching
.
He
was
ready
to
break
Milo
’
s
neck
,
but
Milo
was
Vice
-
Shah
of
Oran
and
his
person
was
sacred
.
Milo
was
not
only
the
Vice
-
Shah
of
Oran
,
as
it
turned
out
,
but
also
the
Caliph
of
Baghdad
,
the
Imam
of
Damascus
,
and
the
Sheik
of
Araby
.
Milo
was
the
corn
god
,
the
rain
god
and
the
rice
god
in
backward
regions
where
such
crude
gods
were
still
worshiped
by
ignorant
and
superstitious
people
,
and
deep
inside
the
jungles
of
Africa
,
he
intimated
with
becoming
modesty
,
large
graven
images
of
his
mustached
face
could
be
found
overlooking
primitive
stone
altars
red
with
human
blood
.
Everywhere
they
touched
he
was
acclaimed
with
honor
,
and
it
was
one
triumphal
ovation
after
another
for
him
in
city
after
city
until
they
finally
doubled
back
through
the
Middle
East
and
reached
Cairo
,
where
Milo
cornered
the
market
on
cotton
that
no
one
else
in
the
world
wanted
and
brought
himself
promptly
to
the
brink
of
ruin
.
In
Cairo
there
was
at
last
room
at
the
hotel
for
Yossarian
and
Orr
.
There
were
soft
beds
for
them
with
fat
fluffed
-
up
pillows
and
clean
,
crisp
sheets
.
There
were
closets
with
hangers
for
their
clothes
.
There
was
water
to
wash
with
.
Yossarian
and
Orr
soaked
their
rancid
,
unfriendly
bodies
pink
in
a
steaming
-
hot
tub
and
then
went
from
the
hotel
with
Milo
to
eat
shrimp
cocktails
and
filet
mignon
in
a
very
fine
restaurant
with
a
stock
ticker
in
the
lobby
that
happened
to
be
clicking
out
the
latest
quotation
for
Egyptian
cotton
when
Milo
inquired
of
the
captain
of
waiters
what
kind
of
machine
it
was
.
Milo
had
never
imagined
a
machine
so
beautiful
as
a
stock
ticker
before
.
"
Really
?
"
he
exclaimed
when
the
captain
of
waiters
had
finished
his
explanation
.
"
And
how
much
is
Egyptian
cotton
selling
for
?
"
The
captain
of
waiters
told
him
,
and
Milo
bought
the
whole
crop
.
But
Yossarian
was
not
nearly
so
frightened
by
the
Egyptian
cotton
Milo
bought
as
he
was
by
the
bunches
of
green
red
bananas
Milo
had
spotted
in
the
native
market
place
as
they
drove
into
the
city
,
and
his
fears
proved
justified
,
for
Milo
shook
him
awake
out
of
a
deep
sleep
just
after
twelve
and
shoved
a
partly
peeled
banana
toward
him
.
Yossarian
choked
back
a
sob
.
"
Taste
it
,
"
Milo
urged
,
following
Yossarian
’
s
writhing
face
around
with
the
banana
insistently
.
"
Milo
,
you
bastard
,
"
moaned
Yossarian
,
"
I
’
ve
got
to
get
some
sleep
.
"
