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- Уолтер Тевис
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Using
a
map
in
the
front
of
Mrs
.
Wheatley
’
s
Mobil
Travel
Guide
,
Beth
wrote
down
the
names
of
the
cities
between
Denver
,
Colorado
,
and
Butte
,
Montana
.
The
manager
had
told
her
his
assistant
would
be
of
whatever
help
she
needed
in
phoning
,
signing
papers
,
dealing
with
the
authorities
.
Ten
minutes
after
they
had
taken
Mrs
.
Wheatley
away
,
Beth
called
the
assistant
and
read
him
the
list
of
towns
and
gave
him
the
name
.
He
said
he
would
call
her
back
.
She
ordered
a
Coca
-
Cola
grande
and
more
coffee
from
room
service
.
Then
she
undressed
quickly
and
took
a
shower
.
There
was
a
phone
in
the
bathroom
,
but
the
call
did
not
come
through
.
She
still
felt
nothing
.
She
dressed
in
fresh
jeans
and
a
white
T
-
shirt
.
On
the
little
table
by
the
bed
was
Mrs
.
Wheatley
’
s
pack
of
Chesterfields
,
empty
,
crumpled
by
Mrs
.
Wheatley
’
s
hands
.
The
ashtray
beside
it
was
full
of
butts
.
One
cigarette
,
the
last
one
Mrs
.
Wheatley
had
ever
smoked
,
sat
on
the
edge
of
the
little
tray
,
with
a
long
cold
ash
.
Beth
stared
at
it
a
minute
;
then
she
went
into
the
bathroom
and
dried
her
hair
.
The
boy
who
brought
the
big
bottle
of
Coke
and
the
carafe
of
coffee
was
very
respectful
and
waved
away
her
attempt
to
sign
the
bill
.
The
telephone
rang
.
It
was
the
manager
.
“
I
have
your
call
,
”
he
said
.
“
From
Denver
.
”
There
was
a
series
of
clicks
in
the
receiver
and
then
a
male
voice
,
surprisingly
loud
and
clear
.
“
This
is
Allston
Wheatley
.
”
“
It
’
s
Beth
,
Mr
.
Wheatley
.
”
There
was
a
pause
.
“
Beth
?
”
“
Your
daughter
.
Elizabeth
Harmon
.
”
“
You
’
re
in
Mexico
?
You
’
re
calling
from
Mexico
?
”
