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- Нил Гейман
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- Стр. 243/641
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Shadow
signed
for
the
John
Doe
and
put
it
on
the
gurney
.
The
body
was
pretty
stiff
,
and
Shadow
couldn
’
t
get
it
out
of
a
sitting
position
.
He
fiddled
with
the
gurney
,
and
found
out
that
he
could
prop
up
one
end
.
He
strapped
John
Doe
,
sitting
,
to
the
gurney
and
put
him
in
the
back
of
the
hearse
,
facing
forward
.
Might
as
well
give
him
a
good
ride
.
He
closed
the
rear
curtains
.
Then
he
drove
back
to
the
funeral
home
.
The
hearse
was
stopped
at
a
traffic
light
—
the
same
lights
he
’
d
fishtailed
at
,
several
nights
earlier
—
when
Shadow
heard
a
voice
croak
,
"
And
it
’
s
a
fine
wake
I
’
ll
be
wanting
,
with
the
best
of
everything
,
and
beautiful
women
shedding
tears
and
their
clothes
in
their
distress
,
and
brave
men
lamenting
and
telling
fine
tales
of
me
in
my
great
days
.
"
"
You
’
re
dead
,
Mad
Sweeney
,
"
said
Shadow
.
"
You
take
what
you
’
re
given
when
you
’
re
dead
.
"
"
Aye
,
that
I
shall
,
"
sighed
the
dead
man
sitting
in
the
back
of
the
hearse
.
The
junkie
whine
had
vanished
from
his
voice
now
,
replaced
with
a
resigned
flatness
,
as
if
the
words
were
being
broadcast
from
a
long
,
long
way
away
,
dead
words
being
sent
out
on
a
dead
frequency
.
The
light
turned
green
and
Shadow
put
his
foot
gently
down
on
the
gas
.
"
But
give
me
a
wake
tonight
,
nonetheless
,
"
said
Mad
Sweeney
.
"
Set
me
a
place
at
table
,
and
give
me
a
stinking
drunk
wake
tonight
.
You
killed
me
,
Shadow
,
you
owe
me
that
much
.
"
"
I
never
killed
you
,
Mad
Sweeney
,
"
said
Shadow
.
It
’
s
twenty
dollars
,
he
thought
,
for
a
ticket
out
of
here
.
"
It
was
the
drink
and
the
cold
killed
you
,
not
me
.
"
There
was
no
reply
,
and
there
was
silence
in
the
car
for
the
rest
of
the
journey
.
After
he
parked
at
the
back
,
Shadow
wheeled
the
gurney
out
of
the
hearse
and
into
the
mortuary
.
He
manhandled
Mad
Sweeney
onto
the
embalming
table
as
if
he
were
hauling
a
side
of
beef
.
He
covered
the
John
Doe
with
a
sheet
and
left
him
there
,
with
the
paperwork
beside
him
.
As
he
went
up
the
back
stairs
he
thought
he
heard
a
voice
,
quiet
and
muted
,
like
a
radio
playing
in
a
distant
room
,
which
said
,
"
And
what
would
drink
or
cold
be
doing
killing
me
,
a
leprechaun
of
the
blood
?
No
,
it
was
you
losing
the
little
golden
sun
killed
me
,
Shadow
,
killed
me
dead
as
sure
as
water
’
s
wet
and
days
are
long
and
a
friend
will
always
disappoint
you
in
the
end
.
