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Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. - 2 B R 0 2 B, Ч.2

Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.

2 B R 0 2 B

Part 2

A sardonic old man, about two hundred years old, sat on a stepladder, painting a mural he did not like. Back in the days when people aged visibly, his age would have been guessed at thirty-five or so. Aging had touched him that much before the cure for aging was found.

The mural he was working on depicted a very neat garden. Men and women in white, doctors and nurses, turned the soil, planted seedlings, sprayed bugs, spread fertilizer.

Men and women in purple uniforms pulled up weeds, cut down plants that were old and sickly, raked leaves, carried refuse to trash-burners.

Never, never, never - not even in medieval Holland nor old Japan - had a garden been more formal, been better tended. Every plant had all the loam (плодородная земля), light, water, air and nourishment it could use.

A hospital orderly came down the corridor, singing under his breath a popular song:

If you don't like my kisses, honey,
Here's what I will do:
I'll go see a girl in purple,
Kiss this sad world toodle-oo (пока-пока).
If you don't want my lovin',
Why should I take up all this space?
I'll get off this old planet,
Let some sweet baby have my place.

The orderly looked in at the mural and the muralist. ‘Looks so real,’ he said, ‘I can practically imagine I'm standing in the middle of it.’

‘What makes you think you're not in it?’ said the painter. He gave a satiric smile. ‘It's called 'The Happy Garden of Life,' you know.’

‘That's good of Dr. Hitz,’ said the orderly.