"Cooney, Caroline B - Janie Johnson 02 - Whatever Happened to Janie" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cooney Caroline B)

"I didn't know anybody was here," said Janie.
"Of course you did!" Stephen's anger spilled over. "You had to have known! You had to have said to these wonderful perfect rich terrific Johnsons- Oh, by the way, my name is actually Jennie Spring, mind taking me home?"
He had touched on the evil in the story. He was right. Why hadn't she argued? Why hadn't she told them her real name? And if she had, why hadn't the Johnsons listened? "I don't remember. It's a long long time ago. I don't know what I said to anybody."
She wished Mr. or Mrs. Spring would come into the room. She wished Nicole were not there, with h~ eyes hot for gossip.
"You were three," said Stephen. 'That's old enough for complete sentences. That's old enough for arguing. That's old enough to make it clear who you are.""I know that," said Janie. "Do you think I
haven't wondered why I didn't fight Hannah? I didn't scream, or try to break free, or anything. I just went along for the ride and had a good time. Do you think it isn't awful to live with that?"
Brendan, tiying for once in his dumb life to be a peacemaker, spoke up. "It wasn't your fault, Jennie," said Brendan. "It was those terrible people. Those horrible Johnsons. You probably told them over and over that they had no right to keep you. They must have lied to you millions of times until eventually you believed them. They probably tortured you. You probably have scars. You've just blocked all that out."
Janie leapt up from the table. Matchbox cars spewed over the floor. Jodie's glass of Coke tipped onto Nicole's fashion entry.
"Shut up!" screamed Janie. 'They are not terrible people! They didn't know what was happening! If they had known, they wouldn't have let it. They are wonderful people. I love them. And they are my parents. So there!"
CHAPTER
8.
The shape of the room in which she had English was different from the classroom in Connecticut. The slant of the sunlight coming through the windows was different. The test, however, was just an English test. One page with thirty easy shortanswer questions.
Janie had done her homework last night. In fact, she had done her homework more thoroughly than at any time in her life. Otherwise she would have had to join in.
But at the top of the upper right hand corner of the onepage test was something Janiehad not bargained for.
Name:__________
It was her eleventh day in New Jersey, and her sixth day in school. She had not had to pass in homework before, and she had not had to take an exam until today.
No one else on earth, thought Janie, is taking this particular test. No one else on earth has to
pass. No one else on earth has two possible answers to that question. Name:________
The Springs might claim that Jarne Johnson and Jennie Spring were the same. Janie knew better. They were two entirely separate human beings. and their lives and experiences had not overlapped in twelve years.
Janie held that pencil very tightly. She wrote a single letter. J.
I'm J no matter what, she thought. That's all I have left for sure. One capital letter.
She closed her eyes. The yellow angles of the pencil pressed against the soft pads of her fingers. She opened her eyes and swiftly scribbled the thirty answers, finishing before anybody else. Briefly she looked up. Mrs. Farm was studying her with intense fascination.
All eyes looked over and around and through Janie now, as if she were public property. as if they deserved the rest of the answers.
There was only one answer. Janie and the family she loved had agreed on the answer. There were a lot of reasons, but the biggest was to protect Mommy and Daddy from having to go through anything more. From having to think any more about what Hannah did. She could no longer be Janie Joimson. Today she had to admit it. Forming each letter carefully, using her best script.
Name: Jennie Spring
One by one the rest of the students put down their papers. The shaft of sunlight on her desk moved off her pencil. Mrs. Fann stood up. Her lips began to form the letter P. for pass your tests in.
Janie penciled a wide harsh line through Jennte Spring and wrote, carefully, and in her very best script, Jante Johnson.
Middle school boys' basketball did not attract crowds.
The Spring family was the largest group there. There were nine more parents of basketballteam players and six cheerleader parents. An assortment of small children climbed precariously up and down the bleachers, or else sobbed with boredom and begged to be taken home. One mother had brought a box of Nilla cookies which she tossed like tiny Frisbees to any child in need of distraction. Half the cookies fell between the bleachers, and two shrieking, pummeling little boys raced around under them, joyfully licking up the crumbs.
Janie had forgotten, from the lofty view of tenth
grade, just how pathetic sixth and seventhgrade players could be. Twice, the "crowd" cringed, expecting a player to head the wrong way down the court and make a basket for the opposition. Twice, leaping, shouting, fistgesturing coaches managed to stop them. Once, that boy was Brian.
Brendan played well and was in for most of the game. Brian played lousily and was on the bench for most of the game, It was not a comfortable sight for the family. The boys were used to being equal; they came in a set and always ended up in one.
Brendan's game total was a marvelous twentyone points. He was slapping backs and laughing wildly, and yet struggling to be blasщ.
Brian was finally put back in the game in the
last one and a half minutes of the fourth quarter. Then he played badly. He tripped, as if even his feet were tied up with frustration, embarrassment, and jealousy.
I'm a twin, thought Janie. Janie and Jennie.
Twins. Sometimes I'm the good twin, with double
digit scores and people whistling. Sometimes I'm the bad twin, hardly able to remember who's on my team.
During a timeout, she accepted three quarters from Mrs. Spring to plunk in the vending machine out in the hallway for a soda. She and Jodie and
Stephen went together out of the gym to get drinks. They waited for Janle to get her soda first.
When Jodie had her Sprite, she said brightly, "So. How was your day, Jennie?"
Be the good twin, Janie told herself. "Fine," she said.
Stephen dropped his quarters in and hit the root beer button like a punching bag.
"How was yours?" said Janie quickly to her sister.
'Terrific. I got a ninetytwo in Japanese."
Janie stared at her sister. "Japanese?" she re
peated.
"Yup. Only eleven of us are in thirdyear Japanese. Everybody else dropped out along the way. It's a very very hard language. We have nothing but contempt and scorn for people taking mere French or Spanish."
"You're taking Japanese?" repeated Janie. She was amazed and impressed. Somehow it didn't seem like Jodie.
"If you had ever looked across the bedroom when Jodle was doing her homework," said Stephen acidly, "you would have noticed she wasn't using an alphabet."