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- Стр. 246/409
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Louis
could
not
respond
to
her
screams
.
The
image
of
Gage
in
Mickey
Mouse
ears
was
fading
,
but
not
before
he
heard
a
voice
announcing
there
would
be
fireworks
later
that
evening
.
He
sat
with
his
face
in
his
hands
,
not
wanting
them
to
see
him
anymore
,
his
tear-stained
face
,
his
loss
,
his
guilt
,
his
pain
,
his
shame
,
most
of
all
his
cowardly
wish
to
be
dead
and
out
of
this
blackness
.
The
funeral
director
and
Dory
Goldman
led
Rachel
out
.
She
was
still
screaming
.
Later
on
,
in
another
room
(
one
that
Louis
assumed
was
reserved
especially
for
those
overcome
with
grief
--
the
Hysterics
"
Parlor
,
perhaps
)
she
became
very
silent
.
Louis
himself
,
dazed
but
sane
and
in
control
,
sedated
her
this
time
,
after
insisting
that
the
two
of
them
be
left
alone
.
At
home
he
led
her
up
to
bed
and
gave
her
another
shot
.
Then
he
pulled
the
covers
up
to
her
chin
and
regarded
her
waxy
,
pallid
face
.
"
Rachel
,
I
'm
sorry
,
"
he
said
.
"
I
'd
give
anything
in
the
world
to
take
that
back
.
"
"
It
's
all
right
,
"
she
said
in
a
strange
,
flat
voice
and
then
rolled
over
on
her
side
,
turning
away
from
him
.
He
heard
the
tired
old
question
Are
you
all
right
?
rising
to
his
lips
and
pushed
it
back
.
It
was
n't
a
true
question
;
it
was
n't
what
he
really
wanted
to
know
.
"
How
bad
are
you
?
"
he
asked
finally
.
"
Pretty
bad
,
Louis
,
"
she
said
and
then
uttered
a
sound
that
could
have
been
a
laugh
.
"
I
am
terrible
,
in
fact
.
"
Something
more
seemed
required
,
but
Louis
could
not
supply
it
.
He
felt
suddenly
resentful
of
her
,
of
Steve
Masterton
,
of
Missy
Dandridge
and
her
husband
with
his
arrowhead-shaped
adam
's
apple
,
of
the
whole
damned
crew
.
Why
should
he
have
to
be
the
eternal
supplier
?
What
sort
of
shit
was
that
?
