| Английски оригинал | Перевод на български | |
|---|---|---|
I swiveled to look out the back window. There, in a sea of monochrome, a yellow Lamborghini idled, bright as a child’s toy, a knot of palm trees as backdrop. And on the other side of it was a swimming-pool-colored Volkswagen bus driven by a woman with dreadlocks. As I turned back around, sliding down the leather seat, I saw the sun glance off warehouse roofs, off terra-cotta tile, off forty million pairs of huge sunglasses. Oh, this place. This place. I felt another surge of joy. | +1 | |
“Are you famous?” Leon asked as we crept forward. My song still played in my ear, tinny. | +1 | |
“If I was famous, would you have to ask me?” | +1 | |
The truth was that fame was an inconsistent friend, never there when you needed it, ever-present when you needed some time away from it. The truth was that I was nothing to Leon, and, statistically, everything to at least one person within a fivemile radius. | +1 | |
In the car beside us, a guy in Wayfarers caught me gazing at California and gave me a thumbs-up. I returned it. | +1 | |
“This one?” He looked dubious. My voice crooned through the speakers, coaxing listeners to remove at least one item of clothing and promising them — promising them — it would be worth it in the morning. | +1 | |
Leon looked at my face in the rearview mirror, as if looking at me would give him his answer. His eyes were so very red. | +1 | |
This, I thought, was a man who felt things deeply. It was hard to imagine being as sad as he was in a place like this, but I guessed I had been sad here once, too. | +1 | |
That felt like a long time ago, though. | +1 | |
On the radio, the song drew to a close. | +1 | |
f live: So there we are, people. Remember now? Oh, the summers of rocking out to NARKOTIKA. Okay, Cole. Are you there, or are you conducting another study on dogs? | +1 | |
cole st. clair: We were musing on fame. Leon has not heard of me. | +1 | |
leon: It’s not your fault. I just don’t listen to much else but talk radio, or sometimes jazz. | +1 | |
f live: Is that Leon? What’s he saying? | +1 | |
cole st. clair: He’s more of a jazz guy. You’ d know it if you saw him, Martin. Leon’s very jazzy. | +1 | |
I jazzed my hands for the rearview mirror. Leon’s hooded eyes regarded me for a sad moment. Then one of his hands crept off the gearshift to do 50 percent of jazz hands. | +1 | |
f live: I believe you. Which album of yours are you going to tell him to start with? | +1 | |
cole st. clair: Probably just that cover of “Spacebar” that we did with Magdalene. It’s jazzy. | +1 | |
f live: Is it? | +1 | |
cole st. clair: It’s got a saxophone in it. | +1 | |
f live: I’m blown away by your knowledge of musical genres. Say, let’s talk about that deal with Baby North. | +1 | |
Have you worked with her before? | +1 | |
f live: I wonder if everybody knows who Baby is? | +1 | |
cole st. clair: Martin, it’s very rude to interrupt. | +1 | |
f live: Sorry, man. | +1 | |
leon: I know who she is. | +1 | |
cole st. clair: Really? Her and not me? Leon knows who she is. | +1 | |
f live: He is jazzy. Does he want to sum it up for the listeners at home? I mean, if he’s not in danger of crashing? | +2 | |
I offered my phone to Leon. | +1 | |
“This is a hands-free state,” Leon said. | +1 | |
“I’ll hold it for you,” I offered, expecting him to refuse. But he shrugged, agreeable. | +1 | |
Sliding behind his seat, I held my phone to his ear. He had one of those haircuts with a very defined ear shape carved into the side of it. | +1 | |
leon: She’s that lady with the web TV shows. The crazy one. It’s Sharp Teeth Dot Com, but she spells it strange. | +1 |