"Alice Hoffman - The Ice Queen" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hoffman Alice)

had to be bribed into reading to me. IтАЩll do your chores. IтАЩll give you my lunch money. Just read.

My mother didnтАЩt listen to my complaints. She was preoccupied. She was in a rush. She put on her
raincoat and a blue scarf. Her hair was pale. SheтАЩd cut it herself, straining to see the back of her head in
the mirror. She couldnтАЩt afford a real haircut at a salon; still she was pretty. We didnтАЩt talk about being
poor; we never discussed what we didnтАЩt have. We ate macaroni three times a week and wore heavy
sweaters to bed; we made do. Did I realize that night was my motherтАЩs thirtieth birthday, that she was
young and beautiful and happy for once? To me, she was my mother. Nothing less or more. Nothing that
didnтАЩt include me.

When she went to leave, I ran after her. I was barefoot on the porch and my feet stung. The rain had
frozen and was hitting against the corrugated green roof. It sounded like a gun. Ice had slipped onto the ?
oorboards and turned the wood to glass. I begged my mother not to go. Queen of the universe. The girl
who thought of no one but herself. Now I know the most desperate arguments are always over foolish
things. The moment that changes the path of a life is the one thatтАЩs invisible, that dissolves like sugar in
water. But tell that to an eight-year-old girl. Tell it to anyone; see who believes you.

When my mother said that Betsy and Amanda were waiting for her and that she was already late, I made
my wish. Right away, I could feel it burning. I could taste the bitterness of it; still I went ahead. I wished
I would never see her again. I told her straight to her face. I wished she would disappear right there, right
then.

My mother laughed and kissed me good-bye. Her kiss was clear and cold. Her complexion was pale, like
snow. She whispered something to me, but I didnтАЩt listen. I wanted what I wanted. I didnтАЩt think beyond
my own needs.

My mother had to start the car several times before the engine caught. There was smoke in the air. The
roof of the patio vibrated along with the sputtering engine of the car. I could feel the sourness inside me.
And here was the odd thing about making that wish, the one that made her disappear: it hurt.

inside, idiot,тАЭ my brother called to me. only thing youтАЩll accomplish out there is freezing your ass off.тАЭ

Ned was logical; he was four years older, an expert on constellations, red ants, bats, invertebrates. He
had often told me that feelings were a waste of time. I didnтАЩt like to listen to Ned, even when he was
right, so on that night I didnтАЩt answer. He shouted out a promise to read to me, even if it had to be fairy
tales, stories he held in contempt. Irrational, impossible, illogical things. Even that wasnтАЩt enough for me
to end my vigil. I couldnтАЩt stop looking at the empty street. Soon enough my brother gave up on me.
DidnтАЩt everyone? My feet had turned blue and they ached, but I stood out there on the porch for quite a
while. Until my tongue stopped burning. When I ?nally went inside, I looked out the window, and even


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 The Ice Queen

Ned came to see, but there was nothing out there. Only the snow.

My mother had her accident on the service road

leading to the Interstate. The police report blamed icy road conditions and bald tires that should have
been replaced. But we were poor, did I tell you that? We couldnтАЩt afford new tires. My mother was half