Веснушки

           Then,asifinapprovalofhislastperformance,thebig,overgrownbabywheeleduntilhewasmorethanthree-quarters,almostfullside,towardthecamera,straightenedonhislegs,squaredhisshoulders,stretchedhisneckfullheight,drewinhischinandsmirkedhismostpronouncedsmirk,directlyinthefaceofthelens.

           Freckles’fingersclosedonthebulbconvulsively,andtheAngel’sclosedonhisattheinstant.Thensheheavedagreatsighofreliefandliftedherhandstopushbackthedamp,clusteringhairfromherface.

           “Howsoondoyous’poseitwillbefinished?”cameFreckles’stridentwhisper.

           ForthefirsttimetheAngellookedathim.Hewasonhisknees,leaningforward,hiseyesdirectedtowardthebird,theperspirationrunninginlittlestreamsdownhisred,mosquito-bittenface.Hishatwasawry,hisbrighthairrampant,hisbreastheavingwithexcitement,whileheyetgrippedthebulbwitheveryounceofstrengthinhisbody.

           “Doyouthinkwewereforgettingit?”heasked.

           TheAngelcouldonlynod.Frecklesheavedadeepsighofrelief.

           “Well,ifthatain’tthehardestworkIeverdidinmelife!”heexclaimed.“It’snowondertheBirdWoman’sforcomingoutoftheswamplookingasifshe’sbeenthroughafire,aflood,andafamine,ifthat’swhatshegoesthroughdayafterday.Butifyouthinkwegotit,why,it’sworthallittook,andI’mgladaseveryouare,sure!”

           Theyputtheholdersinthecase,carefullyclosedthecamera,setitinalso,andcarriedittotheroad.

           ThenFrecklesexulted.