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- Рэй Брэдбери
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- Марсианские хроники
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- Стр. 137/287
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Far
up
the
street
the
levee
seemed
to
have
broken
.
The
black
warm
waters
descended
and
engulfed
the
town
.
Between
the
blazing
white
banks
of
the
town
stores
,
among
the
tree
silences
,
a
black
tide
flowed
.
Like
a
kind
of
summer
molasses
,
it
poured
turgidly
forth
upon
the
cinnamon
-
dusty
road
.
It
surged
slow
,
slow
,
and
it
was
men
and
women
and
horses
and
barking
dogs
,
and
it
was
little
boys
and
girls
.
And
from
the
mouths
of
the
people
partaking
of
this
tide
came
the
sound
of
a
river
.
A
summer
-
day
river
going
somewhere
,
murmuring
and
irrevocable
.
And
in
that
slow
,
steady
channel
of
darkness
that
cut
across
the
white
glare
of
day
were
touches
of
alert
white
,
the
eyes
,
the
ivory
eyes
staring
ahead
,
glancing
aside
,
as
the
river
,
the
long
and
endless
river
,
took
itself
from
old
channels
into
a
new
one
.
From
various
and
uncountable
tributaries
,
in
creeks
and
brooks
of
color
and
motion
,
the
parts
of
this
river
had
joined
,
become
one
mother
current
,
and
flowed
on
.
And
brimming
the
swell
were
things
carried
by
the
river
:
grandfather
clocks
chiming
,
kitchen
clocks
ticking
,
caged
hens
screaming
,
babies
wailing
;
and
swimming
among
the
thickened
eddies
were
mules
and
cats
,
and
sudden
excursions
of
burst
mattress
springs
floating
by
,
insane
hair
stuffing
sticking
out
,
and
boxes
and
crates
and
pictures
of
dark
grandfathers
in
oak
frames
—
the
river
flowing
it
on
while
the
men
sat
like
nervous
hounds
on
the
hardware
porch
,
too
late
to
mend
the
levee
,
their
hands
empty
.
Samuel
Teece
wouldn
’
t
believe
it
.
"
Why
,
hell
,
where
’
d
they
get
the
transportation
?
How
they
goin
’
to
get
to
Mars
?
"
"
Rockets
,
"
said
Grandpa
Quartermain
.
"
All
the
damn
-
fool
things
.
Where
’
d
they
get
rockets
?
"
"
Saved
their
money
and
built
them
.
"
"
I
never
heard
about
it
.
"
"
Seems
these
niggers
kept
it
secret
,
worked
on
the
rockets
all
themselves
,
don
’
t
know
where
—
in
Africa
,
maybe
.
"
"
Could
they
do
that
?
"
demanded
Samuel
Teece
,
pacing
about
the
porch
.
"
Ain
’
t
there
a
law
?
"
"
It
ain
’
t
as
if
they
’
re
declarin
’
war
,
"
said
Grandpa
quietly
.
