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Автор Ричард Руссо
RICHARD RUSSO’S
MOHAWK
“What makes Richard Russo so admirable as a novelist is that his natural grace as a storyteller is matched by his compassion for his characters. ”
—John Irving
“[
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“A kind of novel that isn’t often written seriously anymore … Russo is a skillful, serious, and ambitious writer. ”
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“Richard Russo is a new writer to watch. …
—
A L S O B Y R I C H A R D R U S S O
VINTAGE CONTEMPORARIES EDITIONS, MAY 1994
All rights reserved under International and
Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published
in the United States by Vintage Books,
a division of Random House, Inc. , New York,
and simultaneously in Canada
by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Russo, Richard, 1949—
Mohawk.
(Vintage contemporaries)
A Vintage Original.
I. Title.
PS3568. U812M6 986 813′. 54 86–40133
0–679–75382–6
The author gratefully acknowledges support from the Pennsylvania Council on the Arts and Southern Connecticut State University.
And special thanks for faith and assistance to Jean Findlay, Mrs. Richard LeVarn, Jim Russo, Kevin McIlvoy, Robert C. S. Downs, Kjell Meling, Kitty Florey, Ken Florey, and Greg Gottung.The town of Mohawk, like its residents, is located
in the author’s imagination.
eISBN: 978-0-307-80984-1
v3. 1
Contents
Part One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Part Two
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
But Faith, like a jackal, feeds among the tombs, and even from these dead doubts she gathers her most vital hope.
Herman Melville,
1
The back door to the Mohawk Grill opens on an alley it shares with the junior high. When Harry throws back the bolt from inside and lets the heavy door swing outward, Wild Bill is waiting nervously in the dark gray half-light of dawn. There is no way of telling how long he has been pacing, listening for the thunk of the bolt, but he looks squitchier than usual today. Driving his hands deeper into his pockets, Wild Bill waits while Harry inspects him curiously and wonders if Bill’s been in some kind of trouble during the night. Probably not, Harry finally decides. Bill looks disheveled, as always, his black pants creaseless, alive with light-colored alley dust, the tail of his threadbare, green-plaid, button-down shirt hanging out, but there’s nothing unusually wrong with his appearance. Harry is glad, because he’s late opening this morning and doesn’t have time to clean Wild Bill up.
