The Werewolf Megapack. Александр Дюма. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Александр Дюма
Издательство: Ingram
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Жанр произведения: Зарубежные детективы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781434447012
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she was about to ask him to do something unpleasant. “If you can just try to get along with him. Just a little.”

      “I do try. He’s the one who picks the fights.” He rarely let himself be dragged into Uncle Bob’s ranting, but for the last six months, the verbal barrage had increased, and had been punctuated with vigorous slaps which Uncle Bob justified by blaming Jake for making him angry. Jake’s Mom always tried make Jake understand that Uncle Bob didn’t mean it—it was just that work was so hard and he thought it was unfair to be denied another promotion, or that he had had a bad week at poker, or that he was really tired and didn’t want anything noisy around him.

      “Well, Jake, I need you to try harder. If you aren’t willing to help improve the family, then I think you may need an extra two hours in your room.” It was her usual threat, one she never actually followed through on: Jake would have loved more time in his room, even if it wasn’t very big and at the opposite end of the L-shaped house from the bathroom. At least his room was quiet, and it had two windows, either of which he could leave through if he wanted to.

      “That would be okay with me,” said Jake, disheartened to have his mother take Uncle Bob’s side again. “I can do homework, and read.”

      Esther Sparges frowned. “Don’t you have anyone you’d like to study with? You have friends at school—everyone does. Wouldn’t one of your friends like to have you over to play games, or work on projects together?” She had that wheedling note in her voice, as if she were offering him a treat rather than trying to get rid of him.

      “Not really,” he said, not wanting to admit that he had no friends at school, just a couple of geeks he hung around with occasionally, who had the same taste as he did for spooky video games; he was especially fond of Shape Shifter.

      Shaking her head, Esther got to her feet and began to pace. “I wish I knew what to do with you, Jacob Edwin Sparges, I really do. You’re a good kid, but you get up Bob’s nose every time you open your mouth. I hate being put in the middle of you two.” She clutched her elbows, her hands working. “It’s never easy when you have to blend a family. I wish you could make just a little more effort.”

      Only we aren’t a family, thought Jake, and we aren’t blending. “Yeah.”

      “If I could work something out with your Aunt Judy, but she believes everything Denny and Jennine tell her. They’re all against him, my whole family, and won’t give him a break,” Esther said aloud to herself. “Judy’s very closed-minded; she just doesn’t listen to reason about Bob.”

      Jake went very still. “What do you mean?” He tried not to hope.

      “Well, if you could stay with her for a while, until Bob and I work a few things out, it would be a lot easier on all of us, and that means for you as well as Bob and me. You’ve been one of her favorites, and it isn’t as if she has kids of her own.” She flung her arms wide in exasperation, then grabbed her elbows again. “You’d like to spend time with her, wouldn’t you?”

      “Prob’ly,” Jake said, not wanting to sound too willing.

      “But she says she won’t help me until I get rid of Bob. She says Bob’s bad for me—as if she knows.” She touched the livid smudge on her jaw and scowled. “It’s not as if men grow on trees.”

      “Sure, Mom,” said Jake, wishing he had some excuse to get out of the dining room and have some time for himself, so that he could think.

      There was a sound of the front door opening; Esther said, “Run along and do your homework. I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”

      Glad for this opportunity, Jake bolted from the dining room and headed to his own place where he could read in peace.

      * * * *

      Later that night, when Mom and Uncle Bob were starting to shout again, Jake slipped out the window and hurried off to the park. It was chilly so he had put on his anorak and pulled up the hood, but he wasn’t really warm as he sat on the swing, not moving, and stared out into the darkness beyond the lights on the four tall poles around the playground, casting more glare than illumination. He figured he would remain for another hour and then head home; the yelling should have stopped, and the two of them would be in their bedroom, making up for all the bad things they’d said. At least his homework was done and he would probably be able to get some sleep before he had to be up again. It felt better here alone than it felt in his bedroom right now. He had been scratching in the sand with a long, thin branch, making patterns at his feet when he noticed shining eyes at the edge of the light.

      “Who’s there?” he called out; his question was met with silence. Jake felt a moment of fear, but then he realized it wasn’t a person looking at him, it was a big, black dog, with a long muzzle and a thick coat. As Jake stared at the creature, it gave a tentative wave of its tail. Jake got off the swing and started toward it, going slowly so as not to frighten the animal.

      The black dog sat down and waited for the boy.

      “Hey, fella,” said Jake, coming up to the side of the dog and holding out his hand to be sniffed, all the while being careful not to do anything sudden or to look the dog directly in the eyes. “You’re a big guy, aren’t you?” He noticed the dog was well-groomed, but lacked a collar, and instead had a peculiar kind of cloth with strange marks on it knotted around his neck, which seemed unusual. There was no license, no tags, nothing on the cloth. “You have a chip, boy? So they can find you if you get lost?”

      The long head nudged Jake’s hand, its black nose deep in Jake’s palm.

      Jake closed his eyes and swallowed hard. This little gesture of friendship nearly overwhelmed him and he felt his throat tighten. Most of the time he didn’t think about being lonely, but now it was all he could do to keep from crying. He bent his head to the dog’s ruff and felt the soft fur touch his face, and waited until he could speak without sounding like a little kid. “I wish I could take you home with me, fella, but I can’t. Mom would have a fit, and Uncle Bob would probably go through the roof.” He couldn’t stand the thought of this splendid dog getting hurt, especially if Uncle Bob did the hurting. “I’m sorry. I’d like to take you home, I really would.” It would be great to have someone at home who was on his side, even if it were only a dog.

      The dog nuzzled Jake’s face, then gave him a swipe with his long, red tongue.

      Jake laughed to keep from sobbing. “It isn’t fair, fella,” he stated. “If you want to come with me, and I want you to come with me, there shouldn’t be any problem about it. But there is.”

      As he rested his jaw on Jake’s shoulder, the dog made a musical kind of whine.

      “I know, fella, I know,” said Jake, ruffling the fur behind his ears. “You got to belong to someone, anyway, I guess, so you have an owner. You’re too neat and well-fed to be a stray.”

      The dog made a groaning sound and flattened his ears in pleasure as Jake continued to scratch around the base of his ears.; he took another swipe at Jake with his tongue.

      “I like you, too, fella,” Jake said, and thought as he stroked the dense, soft fur. “But sometimes things don’t work out the way we’d like,” He was quoting Mom now, and he sighed. “Looks like we both have people at home. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” He thought of the many warnings Mom had given him about strange animals and the many dangers they represented. He decided she was wrong about this dog, cloth collar or not.

      The dog gave a soft yip followed by an energetic yawn.

      “I sure hope you’re all grown up, fella, because you got really big feet. If you get much larger, you’ll need a barn for a dog-house.” He examined the large paw, and was rewarded as the dog lifted his foot into his hand. “Really big paw, fella.” He sat down next to the dog, trying not to think about all the things his Mom would be upset about if she could see him now. “You gotta have a name of some kind. Fella sounds really dumb. Maybe I can’t keep you, but I can call you something better than fella.” He leaned against the dog’s shoulder and thought.