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- Нил Гейман
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- Стр. 203/641
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"
I
think
I
should
buy
you
a
spot
of
supper
.
I
’
m
afraid
my
friend
here
has
some
work
that
needs
doing
.
"
Somewhere
in
America
New
York
scares
Salim
,
and
so
he
clutches
his
sample
case
protectively
with
both
hands
,
holding
it
to
his
chest
.
He
is
scared
of
black
people
,
the
way
they
stare
at
him
,
and
he
is
scared
of
the
Jews
,
the
ones
dressed
all
in
black
with
hats
and
beards
and
side
curls
he
can
identify
and
how
many
others
that
he
cannot
;
he
is
scared
of
the
sheer
quantity
of
the
people
,
all
shapes
and
sizes
of
people
,
as
they
spill
from
their
high
,
high
,
filthy
buildings
onto
the
sidewalks
;
he
is
scared
of
the
honking
hullabaloo
of
the
traffic
,
and
he
is
even
scared
of
the
air
,
which
smells
both
dirty
and
sweet
,
and
nothing
at
all
like
the
air
of
Oman
.
Salim
has
been
in
New
York
,
in
America
,
for
a
week
.
Each
day
he
visits
two
,
perhaps
three
different
offices
,
opens
his
sample
case
,
shows
them
the
copper
trinkets
,
the
rings
and
bottles
and
tiny
flashlights
,
the
models
of
the
Empire
State
Building
,
the
Statue
of
Liberty
,
the
Eiffel
Tower
,
gleaming
in
copper
inside
;
each
night
he
writes
a
fax
to
his
brother
-
in
-
law
,
Fuad
,
at
home
in
Muscat
,
telling
him
that
he
has
taken
no
orders
,
or
,
on
one
happy
day
,
that
he
had
taken
several
orders
(
but
,
as
Salim
is
painfully
aware
,
not
yet
enough
even
to
cover
his
airfare
and
hotel
bill
)
.
For
reasons
Salim
does
not
understand
,
his
brother
-
in
-
law
’
s
business
partners
have
booked
him
into
the
Paramount
Hotel
on
Forty
-
sixth
Street
.
He
finds
it
confusing
,
claustrophobic
,
expensive
,
alien
.
Fuad
is
Salim
’
s
sister
’
s
husband
.
He
is
not
a
rich
man
,
but
he
is
the
co
-
owner
of
a
small
trinket
factory
,
making
knickknacks
from
copper
,
brooches
and
rings
and
bracelets
and
statues
.
Everything
is
made
for
export
,
to
other
Arab
countries
,
to
Europe
,
to
America
.
Salim
has
been
working
for
Fuad
for
six
months
.
Fuad
scares
him
a
little
.
The
tone
of
Fuad
’
s
faxes
is
becoming
harsher
.
In
the
evening
,
Salim
sits
in
his
hotel
room
,
reading
his
Qur
’
an
,
telling
himself
that
this
will
pass
,
that
his
stay
in
this
strange
world
is
limited
and
finite
.
His
brother
-
in
-
law
gave
him
a
thousand
dollars
for
miscellaneous
traveling
expenses
and
the
money
,
which
seemed
so
huge
a
sum
when
first
he
saw
it
,
is
evaporating
faster
than
Salim
can
believe
.
When
he
first
arrived
,
scared
of
being
seen
as
a
cheap
Arab
,
he
tipped
everyone
,
handing
extra
dollar
bills
to
everyone
he
encountered
;
and
then
he
decided
that
he
was
being
taken
advantage
of
,
that
perhaps
they
were
even
laughing
at
him
,
and
he
stopped
tipping
entirely
.
On
his
first
and
only
journey
by
subway
he
got
lost
and
confused
,
and
missed
his
appointment
;
now
he
takes
taxis
only
when
he
has
to
,
and
the
rest
of
the
time
he
walks
.
He
stumbles
into
overheated
offices
,
his
cheeks
numb
from
the
cold
outside
,
sweating
beneath
his
coat
,
shoes
soaked
by
slush
;
and
when
the
winds
blow
down
the
avenues
(
which
run
from
north
to
south
,
as
the
streets
run
west
to
east
,
all
so
simple
,
and
Salim
always
knows
where
to
face
Mecca
)
he
feels
a
cold
on
his
exposed
skin
that
is
so
intense
it
is
like
being
struck
.