"Nina Kiriki Hoffman - The World Within" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hoffman Nina Kiriki)

narrow doors leading to the closet and the bathroom; the braided oval of rag rug
on the floor; the round scarred wooden table they were sitting at, with its navy
cloth placemats and the pink plastic vase where Mother always put a sprig of
something -- even in the dead of winter she would find a twig with a bud on it,
or a spray of holly leaves or pine needles; the book shelves beside the radiator
under the windows, where a few dark and stained tomes, some from the old
country, stood beside the space where Aria kept her library books, which changed
each week; the slender selection of vinyl records in the shelf below the little
white turntable with its attached speakers; the little black-and-white TV on its
own tiny table, with a wire hanger antenna twisted into an eternal lazy 8; the
counter against the right-hand wall that held the sink, the stove, the cutting
board, and the dish rack, with hanging cabinets above, where Aria and her mother
kept food and their few dishes; the little fridge in the corner, disguised with
wood-grained brown Contact paper.

A small world, everything in it precious and cared for. Too small for Aria and
her mother and the poltergeist, but the poltergeist didn't seem to care. Last
year it had thrown a tea cup against the wall and frightened Mr. Piper, Aria's
sixth grade teacher, right out of the house. The tea cup had broken, too; they
only had three left now.

Aria drank more tea, hoping it would quiet Pell. She had never found a surefire
method of making the poltergeist behave.

None of the other kids' mothers ever invited teachers home. At least, Aria had
never heard of it. But then again, she wasn't exactly in the gossip stream at
school.

She didn't think other people drank tea with teachers, either. She never saw
television children drinking tea. When television people used tea cups, they
drank coffee, except the ones on PBS.

"Cream," said Mrs. Bridge. "Yes, please."

Mother added a ribbon of cream to the tea. Aria watched it slide beneath the
surface and then rise again from the bottom, billowing like a cloud just before
Mother stirred it with a spoon and then offered the cup, spoon, saucer, and a
napkin to Mrs. Bridge.

"Thank you so much for making time in your busy schedule to stop in and see us,"
Mother said to Mrs. Bridge.

"My pleasure," said Mrs. Bridge, accepting a sugar-sprinkled butter cookie from
the plate Mother held out to her. "I'm always pleasantly surprised when a parent
takes an interest in a child's education."

"I have high hopes for Ari," Mother said, glancing at Aria, offering her a
cookie. Aria took one. There were only five. Two each for Mother and Mrs.
Bridge, one for her. She had better make this one last.