- Paradise is just paradise! I wish I could stay here forever! - Marissa, without fear of tan and lose aristocratic skin white, translucent lace mantilla thrown off, and bravely held up the sun bare shoulders.
- Well, here exactly paradise in the most expensive hotel. And you do not want to walk a little further to see the locals, which was suddenly nothing to eat, because their ancestral lands were in cheyto property, and they can no longer be hunted? Or maybe tell the kids, whose fathers hanged for poaching, which in fact they live in paradise, just have their own, private paradise. Not the same as for white gentlemen!
- Lord, I'm sorry! - Mr. Langdon tried to smooth over the next sharpness Tennyson, after which he silently walked from the table. - Unfortunately, from our balcony offers a wonderful view of the judicial area, which is just now undergoing punishment of poachers, who are very annoying local landowners. A Sasso has always been too lenient with the local population, considering them almost equal to us, civilized people. Do not pay attention, soon it had to be held.
We had finished in a dead silence. Tennyson did not return, and I thought that once again made a mistake in his assessment, considering the person is worse than it actually is.
- Well, I suggest not to lose time, and to do their own business, - Mr. Langdon stepped from the table. - I'm heading to the harbor master, then I have another koekakie business in the city, it is necessary to visit friends who had not seen a couple of years. So I'll see you in the evening, enjoy your day. And, yes! Do not fall for the tricks of the natives, they love to sell all sorts of rubbish in the guise miraculous amulets and ointments from everything.
- Well, we try not to buy bundles of dried mouse or snake tails - I laughed. - Or is that here we will offer as amulets?
- Straight to the point, Mr. Brown - Langdon smiled. - Remember, there was still a very popular ointment of shit bats and crushed beetles ... Or was it a tincture?
- Ugh! - Donnie, as a man fine mental organization had a very vivid imagination, so slightly turned green. Marissa, not having such a fantasy, infectiously laughed.
- So, have fun, relax. By the way, Mr. Brown, and what to eat your dog? - mercenary pointed to a chair collapsed under Gioia.
- Fortunately, nothing, it lacks spring plant twice a day.
- amazing! Well, until the evening! - Langdon pulled off the head light gray cap, and playfully bowing Marissa, still smiling, he came out.
- Well, nice as a person, not what this ... the second - also Donnie stood up, almost stepping while Joey tail. He hid it under a chair and a muffled growl.
Tennyson, puffing on his pipe, walked in front. When I suggested a walk through the city, he said a silent nod.
- Just do not deviate far from the hotel, if you want to keep your nerves.
- What do you mean?
- Yes, that young gentlemen may not like how they live local. Rather, those who can afford to live in the PuertoBello, rather than mud huts made of cow dung and straw, as in the local villages.
- Hey, listen, Mr. Tennyson, - to be honest, my patience is almost exhausted, and restrained is becoming increasingly difficult. - Do not talk to us in such a tone. You do not know about us, as you can see that we will have to taste, and that - no?
- I know nothing? Perhaps, but it is enough that I can see - the man shook the tube several times banging it against the wall of the building, blew, and hid it in his pocket. - Enough talk, let's go. I will show you the local market, if you so want exotics.
Tennyson turned and walked along the street. While I accompanied him bewildered look, he turned into the alley and disappeared from sight. Exchanged glances and we hurried after him.
If Londinium contrast between rich and poor regions is very large, but not as striking as poverty increases gradually, that there this difference, they say, beat the forehead. Two parallel streets from the hotel looked like paradise - a neat white houses with marble columns and plaster archangels, blooming, fragrant front gardens, paved roadways. On the third - placed kakieto warehouses, all the buildings were a gloomy gray boxes without windows.
But then I began a nightmare. Paved road suddenly broke off and turned into a hard-packed before ringing the reddish undercoat, white mansions turned crooked huts with gaping doorways, near which were squatting naked, tanned to blackness and terribly skinny kids of all ages, and looked expressionless eyes.
My eyes darted around, grabbing single images behold out of the hut comes a young, beautiful native, with a huge belly and a baby in her arms, the other kid anxiously clings to its bright, geometric patterns embroidered skirt; Now the old woman, gray-haired, all wrinkled like raisins, crushes grain in a huge manual mortar and pestle barely raising his hands weak and thin; here's a man, a young-looking, but with a white, prolonged cataract, an eye and a leg, stares blankly into the space in front of him and swinging monotonously, softly humming something.
We walked along the street, accompanied by indifferent, lifeless views of people who like nothing on hoping, and I felt Dante, Virgil entrained into the depths of hell. Even Joey, feeling my mood, he continued, fearfully clinging to his leg.
- What's wrong with these people? - whisper, I just could not speak louder here, I asked Tennyson.
- It happened? Nothing, they just live. True, some is very long. You see, Mr. Brown, these people came to serve the white masters, the owners of the city, in the hope of a better life. But it turned out that this piece is not so sweet. Payment of local people work so scanty that the money is almost impossible to survive, so some men go into the forest to kill an antelope and feed the family. Today, not far from here, hanged twenty men who had just tried not to let their families starve. And now they are doomed.
- But ... Before the arrival of the white natives as somehow lived? Why can not they just go back to my roots, to get away from the coast inland?
- Because everyone who lived near the white, are considered infected them with poison, rotten curse of the white man. They will not be back in the once native tribes, their fate - to die of hunger. Come on, we go there, - Tennyson pointed ahead, where the street flowed into a large circular area.
In contrast to the dark, breathing hopelessness alley, big, gomonyaschaya almost louder than the port area, it looked almost festive. Everywhere resounded laughter and chatter, at least in five different languages. We walked drunken sailors, boys scurrying nimble, offering all comers kakieto water and chopped fruit, throaty laugh and wink at passers brightly painted women with red flowers in her hair.
Lacked only the shooting range, the tent with clairvoyant and Ferris wheel, so I can say that the local market - an almost exact copy of the fair, where we had once carried with Donnie Johnson. And, although I'm wrong - that's a tent with a local shaman. Just five meters away stood a tent made of cane and kakihto local leaves. Near the entrance hung with dusty veil, in the land of sticking a pole with the top half of the skull kakogoto animal, according to the shape and the number of teeth - crocodile.
Why I decided that the inhabitants of this dwelling is associated with otherworldly forces? It's simple - in contrast to the other tents and thatched roofs counters with natural, zheltosery dingy shade, this was painted was once deep, and now in some places faded, black.
- A crocodile what? - I turned to Tennyson.
- It's not a crocodile, and the black caiman. The natives believe that it is the vehicle of the human soul in the afterlife.
Yeah, that is, I was not mistaken, and local medium sitting there. Remembering its history dating from the charlatan at the fair Rosalind, I suddenly longed to see her on the native version. Interestingly, there will also be a smoke machine, lower the roof and primitive mechanical crows, or even so, something more interesting?
- Donnie, let's go, let's see! - Marissa pulled the other up to the counter, where kakieto local jewelry sold.
- Go with them, I'll be right there - the desire to go to the black tent suddenly become almost insurmountable, I barely restrained so as not to rush to his le
gs.
- Mr. Brown, you are sure that you need it to? Maybe not worth it? - Tennyson unexpectedly carefully and seriously looked into my eyes. Not ernichaya not hamyang county, he even for a moment seemed to me a different person.
- What's the problem? Do you think there have been deceived? - impatience I have become barely perceptible pritoptyvat in place.
- Oh, no, Mr. Brown. You will not be deceived. You do not say anything but the truth. The issue is that not everyone is ready to hear it.
- I'm ready.
- Well, good luck - he turned and hurried after the departing Donny and Marissa. - Wait for me, lady, do not go alone, if you do not want to lose their wallet!
- She is not alone! And we are quite cope without you!
Ignoring the bickering flared up behind, I, with every second speeding, came to the tent, firmly pulled back the curtain and stepped into the darkness.
- Well, again you do not resist, boy! You were a wimp, and almost the same and stayed!
What? That voice ... It can not be!
Chapter 7
- What? Who you are?
- Mr White wants to know their fate? Mamba tell all that awaits him - the voice, obviously trying to look beyond the grave, she was heard from the darkest corner of the tent.
- Yes, it is! Ever have the same jokes! - exactly, it seemed. Perhaps my own expectation deceived chegoto mysterious, may have played a role hanging around the tent with garlands and clearly intended to catch up with the fear on visitor ligament bird skulls, but I really fancied a couple of seconds, it was the voice of Greta, a witch from the area of Hackney. Of course, how could she here come from? Although, if it was not her, why I so strongly drawn here?
Realizing that I twist his head in the doorway and said nothing for quite a long time, almost to the point of propriety, I took a chance to continue the dialogue:
- Can you tell me the fate?
- And be able to Mr. White to live with the knowledge that is ordained can not be changed? - gradually eyes adjusted and I started to disassemble kakieto vague outlines.
- you could not call me Mr. White? And by the way, in fate, I do not believe everything that happens to us, determines our own will.
- Oh, so interesting. White people, all as one, believe in destiny, just call it "divine providence" - a woman who spoke with me, had about a hundred kilograms of excess weight and a black skin that blends with the surrounding darkness. Uneven light of the oil lamp, lit it, allowed me to see these details. - Why Mr come?
- I dont know. Something drew me here - in fact, so its explanation, I was well aware that I look like an idiot.
- Okay, let Mr. sits down - she pointed to a tightly packed bag, lying on the bare earthen floor, in front of her. I carefully sat down. Joy, who all this time was near, too, came and sat nearby. Surprisingly, his presence did not cause the slightest surprise, as if the mechanical dog walked everywhere here.
Suddenly, the woman's face changed. No, his features remained the same - a wide, like a little flattened nose, thick, twisted outward lips, cheeks, smooth and shiny. But all this was suddenly kakimto unreal, like a ghost mask, which looked out from under a very different woman's face - horrible, disfigured by age and the hardships of life.
- a weakling! Why did you not learn anything? - gritted his hoarse old voice.
- But ... - God! I knew it, this is really it! - And how did you do it?
- Shut up and listen to me, you fool. If you did not ask for, I did not even have to communicate with the arrogant boy dies on health, my cares.
- Who asked?
- I have two news for you - not paying attention to my question, continued the woman, - First - this morning, the one you've been looking for for so long, finally he got what he deserved. No one will disturb those who are not worth it to wake up. The second, more alert. If you do not open your eyes, if you follow the written - will die. I know you is not terrible, but will die and your friends.
- What? For details, which means "open your eyes"? - I knew that damned old woman would not be without circumlocutions, whether it is its own style, whether it is conceived by "scenario", but the issue was really important.
- Listen to me! External, it does not always determine the interior. How often a rough, flaky crust hides precious core ...
Suddenly, from the street there was a terrible noise and screaming, drowning out the voice of a woman. The reed wall rather thick in order to not miss a street light, but, nevertheless, turned out to be strong enough, flew backwards unknown man, landing directly in the pan, with oil burning in it. The fire quickly spread to his clothes and hair, causing an accident with loud cries rolling on the ground and the remains of it is ruined wall, generously scattering in all directions fiery spray.
In less than ten seconds, as the fire spread to almost everywhere. The culprit of the incident, still heart-rending scream, jumped back into the breach created by him. When he awoke from his stupor, I jumped up and held out his hand silently sitting in his corner a woman. She apparently did not came out of the trance, coarsely chopped, not respond to the thickening smoke nor flames that flared up rapidly.
Fixed as a monument, a woman is a serious problem. Trying to throw her onto her back, I realized that we were both rather burn in this cabin than I could bear it out. But there was nothing, throw the helpless man in this situation I would have never occurred, so I'm starting to suffocate slowly, persistently tried to pile on the fat woman Zakorko. Joy without leaving me a single step, spun on the ground and howled sadly, unable to help.
- Hey, Mr. Brown, are you? - from the street came the voice of Tennyson. At the same time it expands the breach began, a couple of seconds, and the entire wall, uhnuv, scattered sparks. The remainder of the hut, deprived of support, staggered dangerously, threatening to fall on our heads. I could pop out at any time, but to throw a woman who, at least at risk of serious burns, conscience would not allow.
- Tennyson - I croaked, struggling with a cough. - Help me, I'm the one it will not pull out.
The man, a virtuoso cursing, stumbled into the remnants of buildings and grabbed not resist the black woman's hand.
- Take it for a second. We did not raise it, will have to drag.
Turning back, especially not stand on ceremony, we dragged the woman to the door, like a sack of flour.
On the area, as it turned out, he had gathered a lot of people. A gaggle of local women, chirping in an incomprehensible dialect, then drove away in the direction of us and began to lead the victim to life. Although, I must say, I have suffered no less. Apart from completely spoiled trousers yawning scorched holes and markings, as well as a few burns, I did not listen to an important prophecy or warning, do not know how to say it correctly.
Behind his back he heard a crack, and I felt a wave of heat that smelled own singed hair. Mechanically bounced a couple of meters and turned to see a huge fire blazing fury of the cane, which is a few minutes ago was the hut of the local shaman, witch, or mambo, as she called herself.
Yes, we will be late for a few seconds, I would definitely covered. Die, it is not likely to have died, considering that people full circle, and the design is very easy, would not pinned anything, but just had not been without serious injury. By the way, whatever happened the culprit?
Turning away from the fire, I looked around. I must say, not seen me happy. The square ran into a few people armed with fire hooks and buckets with water and rushed to the conflagration. In a couple of meters away from me, I am sitting on the ground the same type, because of which it all happened, with singed hair, covered with soot and dirt. This picture was clear. It was not clear another - why close in the dust, holding the bloody side arms, lying groaning man, judging by their clothes - a sailor. Why Marissa standing pressed against the wall of the house, holding a knife to why Donnie covered in mud and with a broken face.
- Well it's ten minutes I just walked away ... - no brainer to me simply did not occur.
- Your friend was enough -
muttered irritably Tennyson and went to the wounded man. - Bring Water - he shouted in space.
I must say, the crowd, though, and was going pretty fast, like it is not been set aggressively, at least not yet. Making sure that it no one is going to attack, Marissa took her knife. And I had not even noticed he was gone from her hands, but looking at the long, almost covering the sleeves brush, and remembering the incident with Tennyson in the port, I think I know where she's his business.
- What happened here? - I looked at Donnie, who is now a puzzled and confused views fingered own obviously broken nose.
The friend looked up, obviously not quite understanding the question, then again, with a strange kind of, stared at his bloody fingers.
- Nothing, Now wakes up - Tennyson helped her up groaning wounded. - Lady, you could not help with the bandage, once stirred up this mess?
- I brewed? Yes, I did nothing to do with! - Marissa snapped, but obediently began to tear off a strip of cloth from the bottom of the skirt.
Looking at Donny, who was still out of it, I slowly began to realize what had happened. By the way, if I am right, then we should have to bring down the square and faster, until they were fellow victims. And they appear clearly, and quite soon.
My attention was attracted by a low white-haired guy in a shabby gryaznobeloy shirt and light trousers worn. He was obviously trying to go unnoticed. And I would not have paid any attention to it, but too well the man portrayed indifference to what is happening in the area. And if you look closely, you could see quick glances being thrown on all the introduction of the participants, including myself.
Suddenly, a woman fussed over lying on the grass Pogorely owner of the theater, that is, the tent parted and she sat up, opened his eyes. The first thing you look down, it was fun blazing flames of the fire. A few seconds looking at the remains of his home, a woman without changing facial expressions, said:
- That's what always happens when there are white people - the blood, destruction, fire, pain.
Named Sherlock Page 70