Коралина / Coraline. Нил Гейман
table was a spool of black cotton, and a long silver needle, and, beside them, two large black buttons.
“I donʼt think so,” said Coraline.
“Oh, but we want you to,” said her other mother. “We want you to stay. And itʼs just a little thing.”
“It wonʼt hurt,” said her other father.
Coraline knew that when grown-ups told you something wouldnʼt hurt it almost always did. She shook her head.
Her other mother smiled brightly and the hair on her head drifted like plants under the sea. “We only want whatʼs best for you,” she said.
She put her hand on Coralineʼs shoulder. Coraline backed away.
“Iʼm going now,” said Coraline. She put her hands in her pockets. Her fingers closed around the stone with the hole in it.
Her other motherʼs hand scuttled off Coralineʼs shoulder like a frightened spider.
“If thatʼs what you want,” she said.
“Yes,” said Coraline.
“Weʼll see you soon, though,” said her other father. “When you come back.”
“Um,” said Coraline.
“And then weʼll all be together as one big happy family,” said her other mother. “For ever and always.”
Coraline backed away. She turned and hurried into the drawing room and pulled open the door in the corner. There was no brick wall there now—just darkness, a night-black underground darkness that seemed as if things in it might be moving.
Coraline hesitated. She turned back. Her other mother and her other father were walking toward her, holding hands. They were looking at her with their black button eyes. Or at least she thought they were looking at her. She couldnʼt be sure.
Her other mother reached out her free hand and beckoned, gently, with one white finger. Her pale lips mouthed, “Come back soon,” although she said nothing aloud.
Coraline took a deep breath and stepped into the darkness, where strange voices whispered and distant winds howled. She became certain that there was something in the dark behind her: something very old and very slow. Her heart beat so hard and so loudly she was scared it would burst out of her chest. She closed her eyes against the dark.
Eventually she bumped into something, and opened her eyes, startled. She had bumped into an armchair, in her drawing room.
The open doorway behind her was blocked by rough red bricks.
She was home.
V
Coraline locked the door of the drawing room with the cold black key.
She went back into the kitchen and climbed onto a chair. She tried to put the bunch of keys back on top of the doorframe again. She tried four or five times before she was forced to accept that she just wasnʼt big enough, and she put them down on the counter next to the door.
Her mother still hadnʼt returned from her shopping expedition.
Coraline went to the freezer and took out the spare loaf of frozen bread in the bottom compartment. She made herself some toast, with jam and peanut butter. She drank a glass of water.
She waited for her parents to come back.
When it began to get dark, Coraline microwaved herself a frozen pizza.
Then Coraline watched television. She wondered why grown-ups gave themselves all the good programs, with all the shouting and running around in.
After a while she started yawning. Then she undressed, brushed her teeth, and put herself to bed.
In the morning she went into her parentsʼ room, but their bed hadnʼt been slept in, and they werenʼt around. She ate canned spaghetti for breakfast.
For lunch she had a block of cooking chocolate and an apple. The apple was yellow and slightly shriveled, but it tasted sweet and good.
For tea she went down to see Misses Spink and Forcible. She had three digestive biscuits, a glass of limeade, and a cup of weak tea. The limeade was very interesting. It didnʼt taste anything like limes. It tasted bright green and vaguely chemical. Coraline liked it enormously. She wished they had it at home.
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