"Tom Reamy - Twilla" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reamy Tom)

"Miss Mahan teaches English to the four upper grades," said Mr. Choate, bringing them back to the
subject, "as well as speech and drama. Miss Mahan has been with the Hawley school system for
thirty-one years."

The Gilbreaths smiled pleasantly.
"My тАж ah тАж Twilla seems very young to be in the ninth grade." That get-up made her look about
eleven, Miss Mahan thought.

The Gilbreaths beamed at their daughter. "Twilla is only thirteen," Mrs. Gilbreath crooned, pride swelling
her like yeast. "She's such an intelligent child. She was able to skip the second grade."

"I see. From where have you moved?"

"Boston," replied Mr. Gilbreath.

"Boston. I hope тАж ah тАж Twilla doesn't find it difficult to adjust to a small town school. I'm sure Hawley,
Kansas, is quite unlike Boston."

Mr. Gilbreath touched Twilla lovingly on the shoulder. "I'm sure she'll have no trouble."

"Well," Mr. Choate rubbed his palms together. "Twilla is in good hands. Shall I show you around the rest
of the school?"

"Of course," smiled Mrs. Gilbreath.

They departed with fond murmurings and good-byes, leaving Twilla like a buttercup stranded in a
cabbage patch. Miss Mahan mentally shook her head. She hadn't seen a family like that since Dick and
Jane and Spot and Puff were sent the way of McGuffey's Reader. Mr. and Mrs. Gilbreath were in their
middle thirties, good looking without being glamorous, their clothes nice though as oddly wrong as
Twilla's. They seemed cut with some outdated Ideal Family template. Surely, there must be an older
brother, a dog, and a cat somewhere.

"Well тАж ah, Twilla," Miss Mahan said, trying to reinforce the normal routine, "if you will take a seat; that
one there, behind Alice May Turner. Alice May, will you wave a flag or something so Twilla will know
which one?" Alice May giggled. "Thank you, dear." Twilla moved gracefully toward the empty desk.
Miss Mahan felt as if she should say something to the child. "I hope you will тАж ah тАж enjoy going to
school in Hawley, dear."

Twilla sat primly and glowed at her. "I'm sure I shall, Miss Mahan," she said, speaking for the first time.
Her voice was like the tinkle of fairy bellsтАФjust as Miss Mahan was afraid it would be.

"Good," she said and went back to the subject of a get-well card for Sammy Stocker. She had done this
so oftenтАФthere had been a great many sick children in thirty-one yearsтАФit had become almost a ritual
needing only a small portion of her attention. The rest she devoted to the covert observation of Twilla
Gilbreath.

Twilla sat at her desk, displaying excellent posture, with her hands folded neatly before her, seemingly
paying attention to the Great Greeting Card Debate but actually giving the rest of the class careful
scrutiny. Miss Mahan marveled at the surreptitious calculation in the girl's face. She realizes she's