Caribou Island
- Автор: Vann David
- Год: 2011
- Язык: испанский
- Год: Harper
- Жанр: Современная русская и зарубежная проза
Электронная книга - «Caribou Island». Краткое содержание книги:
But this island is not right for Irene. They are building without plans or advice, and when winter comes early, the overwhelming isolation of the prehistoric wilderness threatens their bond to the core. Caught in the emotional maelstrom is their adult daughter, Rhoda, who is wrestling with the hopes and disappointments of her own life. Devoted to her parents, she watches helplessly as they drift further apart.
Brilliantly drawn and fiercely honest, Caribou Island captures the drama and pathos of a husband and wife whose bitter love, failed dreams, and tragic past push them to the edge of destruction. A portrait of desolation, violence, and the darkness of the soul, it is an explosive and unforgettable novel from a writer of limitless possibility.
Gary heaved the last piece in place, went around inside, and then wasn’t sure what to do. This one closes the gap, he said. I can’t get my hand outside to hammer. I shouldn’t have put those two-by-fours in yet to block the side gap. Hold it and just wait a minute.
Gary moved his stool outside the back wall, then the side wall. Damn it, he said. Not quite tall enough. The ground’s too low.
The ground’s fault, Irene thought. If they had better ground, it would know to rise up. She held the boat hook and flashlight, tried to stay balanced on the stool. This was her part in the circus.
Gary let out a little grunt-scream thing of frustration. No planning, ever, his entire life. Just throwing himself from one obstacle to the next, blaming the world and Irene.
Fuck, he said. I’m gonna have to climb onto the fucking roof. I can’t do it any other way.
Irene didn’t say anything. Just did her job.
Gary brought his stool beside her and let out another little scream of frustration. Nothing to grab on to, he said. So he took his stool back inside. Give me some room, he said. Move the sheet.
Irene let the sheet slide down toward her.
More, he said, so she let it slide farther, then saw his hands on the joist. He yanked himself upward and got one leg onto the roof. Growling, working that leg out farther, pushing down with his heel, trying to leverage. Finally pulled up sideways and made it.
I need the hammer, he said. It’s inside.
What about the sheet?
I’ll hold it. Just get the hammer.
Irene stepped down, walked around quickly, handed him the hammer, and returned to her station. Gary slid the sheet into place, she held it with the boat hook, and he nailed.
Okay, he said. We have a roof. Then he looked around. Not sure how I’m getting down, he said.
I’ll get out of the way, Irene said, and climbed down off her stool.
Nothing to hold on to, he said. But because of the slant, I should be able to hang off the back. Go around with the flashlight. We have to find a safe place for me to jump down.
Irene ran around quick, shone her light all along the back, moved a pile of garbage bags, their food, and found a mossy patch that seemed soft. This looks good, she said. A bunch of moss.
Okay, keep your light on it. And he lowered himself off the back, hopped down a few feet, easy enough.
Let’s tack up the window, he said, so the wind doesn’t come in. We can leave the back door for now.
Are we spending the night in there?
Yeah, of course.
With all the gaps? Wind and snow are going to come in, right?
It’s not perfect.
Why not use the tents another night?
Why are you like this?
Like what?
Get that light out of my face, he said, slapping it away. And don’t pretend you don’t know what you’re doing.
I’ve been helping you, she said. All day and now at night.
You help, but you’ve also been letting me know what you think of me, every few days, how I’ve destroyed your life, separated you from everyone. So maybe it’s time I let you know what I think of you.
Stop it, Gary. Don’t do this.
No. I’m going to let you have it like you’ve been letting me have it.
Gary, I’m trying here. I’m building your cabin in the dark. I haven’t had any food since the oatmeal this morning.
My cabin, Gary said. See? That’s what I mean. Our whole lives, my fucking fault. No choice of yours. Not your fault you have no friends. You’re a social misfit. That’s why you don’t have any friends.
Stop, Gary. Please.
No, I think I’m enjoying this. I think I’m going to sink my teeth into this.
Irene started crying. She didn’t mean to, but she couldn’t help it.
Cry your fucking eyes out, he said. If it weren’t for you, I would have left this place. I might even have become a professor, finally. But you wanted kids, and then I had to support the kids, and build more rooms on the house. I got trapped in a life that wasn’t really me. Building boats and fishing. I was working on a dissertation. A dissertation. That’s what I was supposed to be doing.
The unfairness was too much for Irene. She couldn’t speak. She kneeled on the ground and cried.
Misery loves company, he said. And all you wanted to do was drag me down with you. You’re a mean old bitch. You don’t say it, but you’re thinking it, always judging. Gary doesn’t know what he’s doing. Gary hasn’t planned a thing, hasn’t thought ahead. Always a little bit of judgment. A mean old bitch.
You’re a monster, she said.
See? I’m a monster. I’m the fucking monster.
35
The satellite phone arrived by UPS in the afternoon. A yellow Pelican case, watertight, the phone tucked inside, padded in foam. Power cords for AC and DC, a packet of adaptors for anywhere in the world. The kind of thing only Jim could afford. A slow day at work, so Rhoda sat at her desk and read the instructions, plugged in the phone to get it charging. She had already bought two golf cart batteries, so her mom would be able to recharge using the DC plug.
At five p.m., she packed up and drove home. A full wedding planning kit from the resort on Kauai had also arrived today, so she was looking forward to opening that. She and Jim would sit on the couch and look through everything.
But when she arrived, Jim was already working out, running on the orbital.
Hiya, he said between huffs. He talked differently now, perky speech. Hiya and you betcha. She didn’t know what was going on. He had a new receptionist, and she spoke like that, so maybe it was rubbing off.
Rhoda put the Pelican case on the bar, and the wedding planning packet. She might as well start fixing dinner. His workouts were getting longer and longer. He’d be at it for at least an hour and a half, every day now, and then he’d have to take a shower. Then dinner and early to bed. They were right here in the same room together, but he didn’t like to talk when he worked out, and he had his iPod going anyway.
Rhoda opened the fridge, and she wondered how much of Jim she was marrying. What percentage. Ten percent of his attention, some larger percentage of his affection, ninety percent of his daily needs and errands, some percentage of his body, a small percentage of his history. She wondered what she was signing up for. Half of his money. She didn’t like to think of it that way. They were supposed to be joining their lives together. They were supposed to be sitting together on the couch right now, looking at the sunset and the brochures.
Salmon, halibut, caribou, chicken. None of it appealed. She didn’t feel like cooking. So she closed the fridge and walked over to Jim. She waited until he pulled out his earphones. He looked like hell, sweaty and splotchy. I’m gonna grab a pizza, she said. I don’t feel like cooking.
He was huffing hard. I don’t know about pizza, he said. All that cheese. Not good for the muffin top.
He had started calling his gut a muffin top, and he was on a diet. No alcohol or desserts or dairy.
I feel like pizza, she said.
How about a big salad. Can you fix us a big salad, honey?
Quit calling me honey. What the fuck has happened to you? Who are you?
Rhoda. What’s wrong? Maybe you need to work out more, too. Make it every day. You’ll feel better.
Rhoda looked down at her stomach. She was still slim. She ran three times a week, and that was fine. How did her running not count as a workout? I’m fine, she said. I don’t need to work out more.