ISBN: 9780544938397
Editorial: Clarion Books
Autor: Schmidt, Gary D.
Año de edición: 2017
N° Paginas: 192
Tipo de pasta: Pasta blanda
Descripción: Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.one“Before you agree to have Joseph come live with you,” Mrs. Stroud said, “there are one or two things you ought to understand.” She took out a State of Maine Department of Health and Human Services folder and laid it on the kitchen table.My mother looked at me for a long time. Then she looked at my father.He put his hand on my back. “Jack should know what we’re getting into, same as us,” he said. He looked down at me. “Maybe you more than anyone.”My mother nodded, and Mrs. Stroud opened the folder.This is what she told us.Two months ago, when Joseph was at Adams Lake Juvenile, a kid gave him something bad in the boys’ bathroom. He went into a stall and swallowed it.After a long time, his teacher came looking for him.When she found him, he screamed.She said he’d better come out of that stall right now.He screamed again.She said he’d better come out of that stall right now unless he wanted more trouble.So he did.Then he tried to kill her.They sent Joseph to Stone Mountain, even though he did what he did because the kid gave him something bad and he swallowed it. But that didn’t matter. They sent him to Stone Mountain anyway.He won’t talk about what happened to him there. But since he left Stone Mountain, he won’t wear anything orange.He won’t let anyone stand behind him.He won’t let anyone touch him.He won’t go into rooms that are too small.And he won’t eat canned peaches.“He’s not very big on meatloaf either,” said Mrs. Stroud, and she closed the State of Maine Department of Health and Human Services folder.“He’ll eat my mother’s canned peaches,” I said.Mrs. Stroud smiled. “We’ll see,” she said. Then she put her hand on mine. “Jack, your parents know this, and you should too. There’s something else about Joseph.”“What?” I said.“He has a daughter.”I felt my father’s hand against my back.“She’s almost three months old, but he’s never seen her. That’s one of the biggest heartbreaks in this case.” Mrs. Stroud handed the folder to my mother. “Mrs. Hurd, I’ll leave this with you. Read it, and then you can decide. Call me in a few days if . . .”“We’ve talked this over,” said my mother. “We already know.”“Are you sure?”My mother nodded.“We’re sure,” my father said.Mrs. Stroud looked at me. “How about you, Jack?”My father’s hand still against my back.“How soon can he come?” I said.***Two days later, on Friday, Mrs. Stroud brought Joseph home. He looked like a regular eighth-grade kid at Eastham Middle School. Black eyes, black hair almost over his eyes, a little less than middle for height, a little less than middle for weight, sort of middle for everything else.He really could have been any other eighth-grade kid at Eastham Middle School. Except he had a daughter. And he wouldn’t look at you when he talked—if he talked.He didn’t say a thing when he got out of Mrs. Stroud’s car. He wouldn’t let my mother hug him. He wouldn’t shake my father’s hand. And when I brought him up to our room, he threw his stuff on the top bunk and climbed up and still didn’t say anything.I got in the bunk below him and read some until my father called us for milking.In the Big Barn, Joseph and I tore up three bales and filled the bins—I told him you have to fill the bin in the Small Barn for Quintus Sertorius first because he’s an old horse and doesn’t like to wait—and then we went back to the cows in the tie-up to milk. My father said Joseph could watch but after today he’d be helping. Joseph stood with his back against the wall. When the cows turned and looked at him, they didn’t say a thing. Not even Dahlia. They kept pulling on the hay and chewing, like they do. That means they thought he was okay.When my father got to Rosie, he asked Joseph if he’d like to try milking her.Joseph shook his head.“She’s gentle. She’d let anyone milk her.”Joseph didn’t say anything.Still, after my father was done and he’d taken a
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- Envío: Desde EE. UU.
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