"Nancy Springer - Number 20" - читать интересную книгу автора (Springer Nancy)

That was the year Greg had the paper route. About midafternoon every day a
green van would come and a man would thunk bundles of the Pleasant Day on the
sidewalk in front of our house. Greg usually got me to help him because I knew what
heтАЩd do to me if I didnтАЩt. WeтАЩd turn our fingers red tear-ing open the plastic straps
because we were too lazy to go inside and find the scissors. After that weтАЩd sit and
rubber-band the papers all at once. The news-print blackened our hands and smelled
sickening, the way almost anything smells sickening if there is too much of it. Then
we would load the papers in the bags and deliver them. Those bags were so heavy
they hauled our shoul-ders down. Dragging a cross couldnтАЩt have been much worse.
And the news-print got on the bags and our clothes and our faces. It seemed to
spread and stain everything, like sin.

Mrs. Life was always on her porch waiting for her newspaper. If we were even
a few minutes late she would be starting to fuss. тАЬIтАЩve taken the Pleasant Day for
sixty-two years,тАЭ she would say. тАЬNever missed once and I donтАЩt want to start
now.тАЭ But one day early that sum-mer Greg and I were a good ten minutes later than
usual yet she didnтАЩt say anything, just grabbed the paper from us and got the rubber
band off it with her crooked old hands. I saw her scan the headlines then smile, and I
started to feel like I wanted to hide in green lilac shadow, because I knew what she
was looking at. Greg and I had both seen it when we were getting the papers ready.
It was what had made us late. Front-page news: тАЬPleasantville Teacher Sus-pect.тАЭ
The school board had hired a psy-chiatrist and a private detective to give them a
report on Mr. Quickel.
 I waited until we were around the corner from Mrs. LifeтАЩs place, trudging
along under our loads, before I asked Greg, тАЬHe never did anything to you, did he?тАЭ

тАЬCourse not. The whole thing makes me sick.тАЭ

тАЬMe, too.тАЭ

тАЬGet used to it, Ronni. ThatтАЩs the way the world is. Sick.тАЭ

Which was what I was trying to do: get used to it. See how it was run, how
things were done. Watch the people who knew, to follow their lead. Learn the rules.
Now itтАЩs too late I can see what I wish IтАЩd done. But then I couldnтАЩt get a handle on
what was going wrong. I hadnтАЩt seen anybody do anything bad. HadnтАЩt even heard
anybody tell any lies. Just had a feeling things werenтАЩt fair, that was all. Just a bad
feeling.

Couple days or it might have been a week after the newspaper article, me and
my mom were walking to some-bodyтАЩs yard sale when Mrs. Life called hello to us
and beckoned Mom over to her porch.

тАЬHave you noticed Nicholas Quickel hasnтАЩt been to church for three weeks
now?тАЭ she said. She went to the same church as we did, the one right by her house.
Everybody who wanted to count in that town went to that church. тАЬMar-jorie has
been coming but he hasnтАЩt.тАЭ His wife, Mrs. Life meant. тАЬI wonder if theyтАЩre having
problems.тАЭ