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Автор Нил Гейман
NEIL GAIMAN
Pages from a Journal Found in a Shoebox Left in a Greyhound Bus Somewhere Between Tulsa, Oklahoma, and Louisville, Kentucky
I guess I've been following Scarlet for a long time now. Yesterday I was in Las Vegas. Walking across the parking lot of a casino, I found a postcard. There was a word written on it in crimson lipstick. One word:
I don't remember what it is I'm meant to remember. I'm on the road now, driving north.
I'm in Montana, or maybe Nebraska. I'm writing this in a motel. There's a wind gusting outside my room, and I drink black motel coffee, just like I'll drink it tomorrow and the night after that. In a small town diner today I heard someone say her name. "Scarlet's on the road," said the man. He was a traffic cop, and he changed the subject when I got close and listened.
He was talking about a head-on collision. The broken glass glittered on the road like diamonds. He called me "Ma'am," politely.
"It's not the work that gets to you so bad," said the woman. "It's the way that people stare. " She was shivering. It was a cold night and she wasn't dressed for it.
"I'm looking for Scarlet," I told her.
She squeezed my hand with hers, then she touched my cheek, so gently. "Keep looking, hon," she said. "You'll find her when you're ready. " Then she sashayed on down the street.
I wasn't in a small town any longer. Maybe I was in Saint Louis. How can you tell if you're in Saint Louis? I looked for some kind of arch, something linking East and West, but if it was there I missed it.
Later, I crossed a river.
There were blueberries growing wild by the side of the road. A red thread was caught in the bushes. I'm scared that I'm looking for something that does not exist any more. Maybe it never did.
I spoke to a woman I used to love today, in a café in the desert. She's a waitress there, a long time ago.
"I thought I was your destination," she told me. "Looks like I was just another stop on the line. "
I couldn't say anything to make it better. She couldn't hear me. I should have asked if she knew where Scarlet was.
I dreamed of Scarlet last night. She was huge and wild, and she was hunting for me. In my dream, I knew what she looked like. When I woke I was in a pick-up truck, parked by the side of the road. There was a man shining a flashlight in the window at me. He called me "Sir" and asked me for ID.
