"Duncan,.Lois.-.A.Gift.Of.Magic" - читать интересную книгу автора (Duncan Lois)

"Greg Russo is headed for Miss Arnold's room now," Mr. Manzi continued. He turned to the boy, whose ear immediately stopped moving. "Greg, I want you to take Brendon with you and show him where the room is. And as for you, I don't want to see you in here again for misconduct. We are not going to go through another year like last year, do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," the boy said in exactly the same tone as Brendon. He smiled politely exactly like Brendon, except that he was not able to make a dimple in his cheek.
"I'm going to have to give a full report of this to your father," Mr. Manzi said sternly. "Amy's dress will have to be paid for. I hope your father finds some way for you to work off the cost of replacing it."
"Thank you, sir," Greg said. "Can I go now, sir?"
"You may," Mr. Manzi said. "It was nice meeting you, Brendon. Give my best to your mother. I hope you like it here at Palmelo Grammar School."
"Thank you, sir," Brendon said, making his voice just like Greg's voice trying to sound like Brendon's voice. He even tried to wiggle his ear, but nothing happened. Doing something like that was more difficult than it appeared.
Once out in the hall, Greg's politeness fell off him like an unwanted jacket.
"Brenda," he said. "What kind of name is thatЧBrenda? It's a girl's name. Are you a girl?"
"The name's Brendon," Brendon corrected him. "It's an Irish name. I'm named after my dad, Richard Brendon Garrett. I'm sure not a girl. Are you crazy or something?"
"Well, you've got a girl's name," Greg said. "And you look like a girl, so pretty and nice with fluffy hair and dimples. Gosh, Brenda, I bet you are a girl and just don't know it. I bet your folks wanted a boy so they started putting boys' clothes on you the day you were born and they always told you that you were a boy, so now you even believe it yourself."
"For rats' sake!" The thought was such a dreadful one that for a moment Brendon was speechless. "For rats' sake!" he said again.
"It happens to people all the time," Greg said. "There's a name for itЧtransЧtransЧoh, I forgetЧit's trans-something-or-other. My father's a psychiatrist. He knows all about things like that."
"For a psychiatrist, he's sure got a crazy son." Brendon said hotly. "You try calling me Brenda one more time and I'll dig out all those freckles of yours and make you eat them. Then you'll be sick and throw up all over the hall."
It was a glorious reply, and Greg nodded, looking impressed. Then he said, "Brenda."
"What did you call me?" Brendon asked hopefully.
His hands at his sides were already made into fists and were starting to itch with eagerness. He saw Greg glance at them and watched his eyes brighten with the same anticipation.
Automatically they both looked up and down the hall. The door to the office was closed and the first great crowd of students had diminished, although there were still a number of people wandering up and down looking for room numbers.
"Brenda," Greg said. "Sweet little girly Brenda. Did your mama come with you, Brenda, dearie? Don't tell me she let her little darling come to school all by herself?"
"Okay for you," Brendon said, and he socked.
It was a tentative sock, a thumping kind of blow such as he might have given Nancy. It landed on Greg's chest with a plopping sound.
"My gosh, you even fight like a girl!" said Greg, and he threw his own fist out. It came crashing into Brendon with the speed and power of a bullet. The force of it sent him reeling backward against the wall.
He leaned there for a moment, gasping for breath, and then the glory of it hit him. This was really, honestly going to be a fight!
With a shout he threw himself onto the red-haired boy, both fists Sailing. He was hardly conscious of the blows that came back upon him, so intent was he upon the ones he himself was delivering. He felt Greg's fist strike against his cheekbone, and brought his own knuckles hard into something soft. He heard his opponent gasp, and then he felt a knee come hard into his stomach. He doubled over and as he went down he grabbed for Greg's knees and brought him down also.
Twisting and punching and kicking, they rolled across the floor.
"Boys! Boys! Stop this immediately!" A woman's voice was crying to them.
Somewhere other voices were shouting.
Somebody said, "Run get the principal, quick, before they kill each other!"
Brendon felt a sharp pain as Greg's fist hit his nose, and he threw himself over, twisting with all his strength to get on top. He saw Greg's ear in front of his face and wondered if it would be fair to bite. Then he thought of NancyЧthat was the kind of fighting she would doЧso he let the ear go by and punched Greg's ribs with his elbow instead.
"Greg! Brendon! Break it up this minute!" Another voice rang out close behind them. A man's voice.
A hand gripped Brendon's collar, and he felt himself being lifted upward. He managed to land one final blow as Greg slid out from beneath him, and felt an answering kick on his shins.
A pretty brown-haired woman was dragging Greg to his feet. Brendon could see that her face was streaked with tears.
"I don't know what happened!" she wailed. "It's awful, just awful! Oh, Mr. Manzi, look at them! I heard the commotion right outside my door, and I opened it, and there they were, trying to kill each other!"
"It's all right, Miss Arnold. I don't think either of them is badly hurt." Mr. Manzi turned Brendon around so that he could look at him. "Will you two boys tell me what this is all about? You just met each other in my office five minutes ago. What could you find to fight about in that length of time?"
"I don't know, sir," Greg said. Greg looked terrible. His shirt was torn half off his shoulder, and his lip was bleeding, and there was a black bruise all around his left eye.
"You don't know? Of course, you know!" Mr. Manzi turned to Brendon. "What happened, Brendon? I'm sure you weren't the one to start this."
"I don't know, sir," Brendon said.
He reached up and touched his nose to see if it might be broken. There was blood coming out of it, he discovered, but the bone seemed to be all right.
"I'm very disappointed in you, Brendon." Mr. Manzi sounded bewildered. "I can't believe that Liz Burke's son would act like this. As for you, Greg, you got your warning this morning. This is going to mean real punishment. An hour after school every day for a week."
"Yes, sir," Greg said. "Thank you, sir. Can we go into the room now, sir? We haven't had a chance yet to get our desks."
"You mean, they're both going to be in my room?" Miss Arnold's face turned pale. "But, Mr. Manzi, what will I do if they're at each other every day like this? Shouldn't we separate them, just for safety?"
Greg grinned at Brendon. The eye with the bruise around it was half closed now.
"Gosh, you don't have to worry about Bren and me, Miss Arnold," he said. "Bren and me were just letting out our aggressions a little. Actually, we're buddies."
Brendon grinned back. The grin hurt on both sides at the place where his mouth was attached to his face.
"I want to be in Miss Arnold's room," he said.
He felt wonderful. He felt better than wonderful. As he and Greg followed Miss Arnold into the room he tried again to wiggle his right ear.


4

After taking the placement tests required by the junior high school, Kirby and Nancy were both put into the eighth grade.