All Flesh is Grass читать онлайн

Maybe, I thought, this is the time I don't get up.

I still kept pawing with my hands, trying to lift myself and that's how I got the rock. Some kid, perhaps, had thrown it, maybe days before—maybe at a bird, maybe at a dog, maybe just for the fun of throwing rocks. And it had landed in the street and stayed there and now the fingers of my right hand found it and closed around it and it fitted comfortably into my palm, for it was exactly fist size.

Но на этот раз что-то невмочь. Не выходит. Никак не поднимусь.

Быть может, пришел тот час, когда мне уже не встать?

Я все шарил ладонями, ища опоры, и вдруг наткнулся на камень. Наверно, какой-нибудь мальчишка запустил им в воробья ли, в собаку ли или швырнул просто так, для забавы. Камень остался посреди улицы, может, он пролежал здесь не день и не два и теперь я нащупал его правой рукой и стиснул  — очень подходящий камень, так удобно поместился в кулаке.

A hand, a great meaty paw of a hand, came down from above and grabbed my shirt front and hauled me to my feet.

“So,” screamed a voice, “assault an officer, would you!”

Громадная мясистая ручища опустилась с высоты, сгребла меня за грудки и рывком подняла на ноги."

"— Я тебе покажу!  — заорал хриплый голос.  — Будешь знать, как нападать на представителя порядка.

His face swam in front of me, a red-smeared face twisted with his hatred, heavy with its meanness, gloating at the physical power he held over me.

I could feel my legs again and the face came clearer and the clot of faces in the background—the faces of the crowd, pressing close to be in at the kill.

Опять перед глазами плавает разбитая в кровь морда, искаженная злобой и ненавистью. Как он упивается тем, что он больше, тяжелей, сильнее меня!

Я снова ощутил под собою ноги, яснее различил физиономию Хайрама, а за ним  — еще стену лиц, нетерпеливо теснящуюся толпу, которая жаждет полюбоваться убийством.

One did not give up, I told myself, remembering back to all those other times I had not given up.

As long as one was on his feet, he fought, and even when he was down and could not get up, he did not admit defeat.

Both of his hands were clutching at my shirt front, his face pushed close toward mine, I clenched my fist and my fingers closed hard around the rock and then I swung. I swung with everything I had, putting every ounce of strength I could muster behind the swinging fist swinging from the waist in a jolting upward jab, and I caught him on the chin.