"P. J. Plauger - Child of All Ages" - читать интересную книгу автора (Plauger P J)

May was taken aback. The girl was thin, much thinner than she looked sitting down, but not to the point
of being unhealthy. Rather, it was the kind of thinness one finds in people who are still active in their
nineties. Not wiry, but enduring. And those eyes.

May was one of the first Peace Corps volunteers to go into central Africa. For two years she fought
famine and malnutrition with every weapon, save money, that modern technology could bring to bear. In
the end it was a losing battle, because politics and tribal hatred dictated that thousands upon thousands
must die the slow death of starvation. That was where she had seen eyes like that before.

Children could endure pain and hunger, forced marches, even the loss of their parents, and still recover
eventually with the elasticity of youth. But when their flesh melted down to the bone, their bellies
distended, then a look came into their eyes that remained ever with them for their few remaining days. It
was the lesson learned much too young that the adult world was not worthy of their trust, the realization
that death was a real and imminent force in their world. For ten years after, MayтАЩs nightmares were
haunted by children staring at her with those eyes.

Now this one stood before her and stared into her soul with eyes that had looked too intimately upon
death.

As quickly as she had been captured, May felt herself freed. The girl glanced about the room, as if
checking for fire exits, took in the contents of MayтАЩs desk with one quick sweep, then marched up to the
visitorтАЩs chair, and planted herself in it with a thump.

тАЬMy name is Melissa,тАЭ she said, adding a nervous grin. тАЬYou must be Mrs. Foster.тАЭ She was all little girl
now, squirming the least little bit and kicking one shoe against another. The eyes shone with carefree
youth.

May shook herself, slowly recovered. She thought she had seen everything before, until now. The
guileless bit was perfectтАФMelissa looked more like a model eight-year-old than a chronic troublemaker
going cm, what was it? Fourteen. Fourteen?

тАЬYouтАЩve been suspended from school for the third time this year, Melissa,тАЭ she said with professional
sternness. May turned on her best Authoritarian Glare, force three.

тАЬYep,тАЭ the child said with no trace of contrition. The Glare faded, switched to Sympathetic
Understanding.

тАЬDo you want to tell me about it?тАЭ May asked softly.

Melissa shrugged.

тАЬWhatтАЩs to say? Old Man MтАФuh, Mr. Morrisey and I got into an argument again in history class.тАЭ She
giggled. тАЬHe had to pull rank on me to win.тАЭ Straight face.

тАЬMr. Morrisey has been teaching history for many years,тАЭ May placated. тАЬPerhaps he felt that he knows
more about the subject than you do.тАЭ

тАЬMorrisey has his head wedged!тАЭ MayтАЩs eyebrows skyrocketed, but the girl ignored the reproach, in her
irritation. тАЬDo you know what he was trying to palm off on the class? He was trying to say that the
Industrial Revolution in England was a step backward.