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- Нил Гейман
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- Американские боги
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- Стр. 479/641
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Loki
took
a
box
of
matches
from
his
pocket
,
and
thumb
-
nailed
a
match
into
flame
.
The
momentary
flare
hurt
Shadow
’
s
eyes
.
A
candlewick
flickered
and
caught
.
And
another
.
Loki
lit
a
new
match
,
and
continued
to
light
candles
:
they
were
on
the
windowsills
and
on
the
headboard
of
the
bed
and
on
the
sink
in
the
corner
of
the
room
.
They
showed
him
the
room
by
candlelight
.
The
bed
had
been
hauled
from
its
position
against
the
wall
into
the
middle
of
the
motel
room
,
leaving
a
few
feet
of
space
between
the
bed
and
the
wall
on
each
side
.
There
were
sheets
draped
over
the
bed
,
old
motel
sheets
,
moth
-
holed
and
stained
,
which
Loki
must
have
found
in
a
closet
somewhere
.
On
top
of
the
sheets
lay
Wednesday
,
perfectly
still
.
He
was
fully
dressed
,
in
the
pale
suit
he
had
been
wearing
when
he
was
shot
.
The
right
side
of
his
face
was
untouched
,
perfect
,
unmarred
by
blood
.
The
left
side
of
his
face
was
a
ragged
mess
,
and
the
left
shoulder
and
front
of
the
suit
was
spattered
with
dark
spots
,
a
pointillist
mess
.
His
hands
were
at
his
sides
.
The
expression
on
that
wreck
of
a
face
was
far
from
peaceful
:
it
looked
hurt
—
a
soul
-
hurt
,
a
real
down
deep
hurt
,
filled
with
hatred
and
anger
and
raw
craziness
.
And
,
on
some
level
,
it
looked
satisfied
.
Shadow
imagined
Mr
.
Jacquel
’
s
practiced
hands
smoothing
that
hatred
and
pain
away
,
rebuilding
a
face
for
Wednesday
with
mortician
’
s
wax
and
make
-
up
,
giving
him
a
final
peace
and
dignity
that
even
death
had
denied
him
.
Still
,
the
body
seemed
no
smaller
in
death
.
It
had
not
shrunk
.
And
it
still
smelled
faintly
of
Jack
Daniel
’
s
.
The
wind
from
the
plains
was
rising
:
he
could
hear
it
howling
around
the
old
motel
at
the
exact
imaginary
center
of
America
.
The
candles
on
the
windowsill
guttered
and
flickered
.
He
could
hear
footsteps
in
the
hallway
.
Someone
knocked
on
a
door
,
called
,
"
Hurry
up
please
,
it
’
s
time
,
"
and
they
began
to
shuffle
in
,
heads
lowered
.
Town
came
in
first
,
followed
by
Media
and
Mr
.
Nancy
and
Czernobog
.
Last
of
all
came
the
fat
kid
:
he
had
fresh
red
bruises
on
his
face
,
and
his
lips
were
moving
all
the
time
,
as
if
he
were
reciting
some
words
to
himself
,
but
he
was
making
no
sound
.
Shadow
found
himself
feeling
sorry
for
him
.
Informally
,
without
a
word
being
spoken
,
they
ranged
themselves
about
the
body
,
each
an
arm
’
s
length
away
from
the
next
.
The
atmosphere
in
the
room
was
religious
—
deeply
religious
,
in
a
way
that
Shadow
had
never
previously
experienced
.
There
was
no
sound
but
the
howling
of
the
wind
and
the
crackling
of
the
candles
.
