Sunday, January 29, 2017

Below That Person



  Keisha whips around fast. "Why dou you always try to pull people down?" she asks.

  "Because some people deserve it, that's why," Shay answers.

  "Deserve to be pulled down? Really?" Keisha asks.

  Albert straightens his ties, which is the only part of his outfit that fits. He's even wearing his sneakers with the backs cut out. "You know," he says, "logically, if a person was to pull another down, it would mean that he or she is already below that person."

Fish in a Tree, P71
Lynda Mullaly Hunt
ISBN 978-0-399-16259-6




I Don't Take My Appearance Lightly



  "Albert," Shay says, leaning forward a bit, "you go right ahead and ignore what you look like. But it's the rest of us who suffer; we have to look at you."

  "Actually," he says, "I don't take my appearance lightly. I take you lightly."

  And with that he turns and is gone before she can pull out some other mean thing. And I wish I was like Albert. Seeing him shuffle away in those sneakers makes me want to be better. I'm not perfect, but at least I'm not mean.

Fish in a Tree, P63
Lynda Mullaly Hunt
ISBN 978-0-399-16259-6




Saturday, January 28, 2017

You Can't Measure the Stuff that Makes Us Man



  "So you agree that possibilities aren't endless?"

  "Well, I agree from a mathematical standpoint, Albert, but not from a human one. I believe that the things we put numbers on are not necessarily the things that count the most. You can't measure the stuff that makes us man. Like Keisha's creativity or how hard she'll work." Mr Daniels shrugs. "Just my opinion."

  "Well, it seems that the part that can be measured is most important," Albert says. "Because that's what can be proven."

  "Well, my fine young fellow, I think we'll have to agree to disagree," Mr Daniels says, walking by Albert and patting his shoulder.

Fish in a Tree, P48
Lynda Mullaly Hunt
ISBN 978-0-399-16259-6




I Wish She Could Understand My World



  "By the way, I don't want to hear you say that people hate you," she calls out. "How could anyone on earth possibly hate you?"

  I wish she could understand my world. But it would be like trying to explain to a whale what it's like to live in the forest.

Fish in a Tree, P29
Lynda Mullaly Hunt
ISBN 978-0-399-16259-6




You Say That, But I'm Not



  "Oh, Ally . . . you're to smart for this. School is too important to joke about. I don't you working long hours on your feet for a bunch of tips like me. I want more for you. And you're so smart. Good at math. A gifted artist. Don't you think it's time to stop clowning around?"

  "I'm not smart. You say that, but I'm not."

  "Now, we know that isn't true. You could stand to work a little harder, though."

  I'm so tired of this conversation. We've had it a hundred times, even though my third-grade teacher told her that I might just be slow, that my mum shouldn't expect too much of me. My mom's eyes got all wide and shinny when she heard that, and I felt sad and embarrassed for her having to be my mom.

  But my mother's never bought what the teacher said. I sometimes wish she would, but most of the times I'm grateful that she hasn't.

Fish in a Tree, P27-28
Lynda Mullaly Hunt
ISBN 978-0-399-16259-6




Friday, January 27, 2017

Like A Tree Holds Leaves



  Then she pulls over the napkin with the dinosaurs holding coffee cups. "What's this?"

  "Just an idea I have for the Sketchbook of Impossible Things."

  She stares at it. "Aw, your grandpa knew you were talented, and he'd so proud of how hard you're working on your art. And he would love that you named your sketchbook after Alice in Wonderland. He had such fun sharing that book with you." She looks up at me. "Just like he shared it with me when I was young."

  Alice in Wonderland - a book about living in a world where nothing makes sense made perfect sense to me.

  "I miss Grandpa," I say. Three words that hold sadness like a tree holds leaves.

  "Me too, sweetheart."

  ……

Fish in a Tree, P18-19
Lynda Mullaly Hunt
ISBN 978-0-399-16259-6




Don't You Think the Dead Person Deserves A Card More Than Anyone?



  I look up. "I swear it. I didn't know it was a sym . . . a sym . . . a card for dead people."

  "It's a sympathy card," she says. "And it's for people that miss the person that has died. Not for the dead."

  "Well, don't you think the dead person deserves a card more than anyone?"

  And she laughs. She leans her elbow on the counter and lifts her other arm to put her hand on my face. It's warm and I'm so relieved that she isn't that mad at me. "You're funny. You know that?"

Fish in a Tree, P18
Lynda Mullaly Hunt
ISBN 978-0-399-16259-6




Even I'm Tired of me



  "As of Monday, your new teacher will be Mr. Daniels. Let's try to avoid any negative consequences, okay?"

  I think about how me avoiding consequences would be like the rain avoiding the sky.

  She waves me out, and as I stand, I look at that poster again. I wish I knew what it was I should learn, because I know that I should know a lot more than I do.

  She sighs as I leave her office and I know she's tired of me.

  Even I'm tired of me.

Fish in a Tree, P14-15
Lynda Mullaly Hunt
ISBN 978-0-399-16259-6




I Wish I Could Put My Mouth in There, too



  Once we're out in the hallway, I can tell by Mrs. Silver's face that it's going to be another one of those times when I'll have to say I'm sorry of explain why I've done something. The thing is, I have no idea why I'm even in trouble this time.

  I stuff my hands in my pockets to keep them from doing something I'll regret. I wish I could put my mouth in there, too.

Fish in a Tree, P8
Lynda Mullaly Hunt
ISBN 978-0-399-16259-6




A Mind Movie



  I watch a mind movie of her taking a stick and drawing a line in the dirt between us under a bright blue sky. She's dressed as a sheriff and I'm wearing black-and-white prisoner stripes. My mind does this all the time — shows me these movies that seem so real that they carry me away inside them. They are a relief from my real life.

Fish in a Tree, P3-4
Lynda Mullaly Hunt
ISBN 978-0-399-16259-6




Saturday, January 14, 2017

Because You Stopped Believing



  But it was just a little yellow bird. It chirped and tweeted.

  "Little bird, little bird," called Sparkle. "Did you hear the music? Oh why did it stop?"

  "Because you stopped believing it was there," the little yellow bird replied.

  Sparkle almost fell over in surprise. Birds couldn't talk, could they?

  ... ...

Sparkle's Song
by Samamtha Hale, illustrated by Mariana Ruiz Johnson
ISBN 978-174237-730-8




On the Edge of Pemberley Park



  Mr Darcy lived by himself on the edge of Pemberley Park.

  It was a place where the trees blossomed and the lake sparkled.

  Mr Darcy loved Pemberley Park, but sometimes he felt lonely.

Mr. Darcy
written by Alex Field, illustrated by Peter Carnavas
ISBN 978-192104-283-6




Why are You Crying?




  He took a deep breath and climbed quietly up to his favourite branch. He wrapped his thick furry paws around the trunk and gave the tree a huge, kind, bear hug.

  He whispered in his tiniest voice, "Why are you crying, Tree?"

  To Albert's surprise, his tree whispered back, "Because I'm scared of the big hairy monster."

Albert's Tree
Jenni Desmond
ISBN 978-1-4063-6247-3




Sunday, January 8, 2017

You Both Have Plenty




  "Yes. Do you like the otter?"

  "Of course I do."

  Jafet patted the otter on the head and asked, "And is the gnome your friend?"

  "Of course."

  "Then you have the secret already. For the simple secret to being warm from the inside out is friendship, of which you both have plenty."

Grome from Nome
written by Stephen Cosgrove, illustrated by Robin James
ISBN 978-1-57061-777-5




Alaska




  Flapping his arms, stomping his feet, and shouting all the way, he traveled across the ice and snow until he skittered down into the state of Alaska and onto the shores of the Bearing Sea.

  Unlike the North Pole, here there were forests of birch and aspen. But like where he came from, it was still very, very cold.

  Winter windfall branches were scattered about, and the gnome quickly set about digging a pit and filling it with kindling and such.

  But poor Alappuu had a wealth of ideas but not a single match with which to light a fire.

Grome from Nome
written by Stephen Cosgrove, illustrated by Robin James
ISBN 978-1-57061-777-5




Saturday, January 7, 2017

Warm from the Inside Out




  Finally, with snow swirling about his legs, he packed a bag with his few worldly wonders: a pair of pajamas, a bristly brush, a small steel pick he found. With the pack flopped over his back, he left the North Pole, never to return.

  "I will fa-fa-find warm from the inside out or my na-na-name is not Alappuu."

Grome from Nome
written by Stephen Cosgrove, illustrated by Robin James
ISBN 978-1-57061-777-5




Sunday, January 1, 2017

全世界最好吃的东西



  “流这么多汗就没事了。”

  我听见了母亲的声音。

  接下来,我终于不再发出呻吟声,能够彻底昏睡了。我就像在海底沉睡的海牛一样,长时间沉在海中,一动也不动,偶尔恢复丁点儿意识,翻个身,就像海牛浮上水面一般,然后又继续沉入海底睡觉。

  等我清醒过来的时候,已经是第三天早上了。我起床上厕所,但身体却使不上力,仿佛在空中游泳似地走不稳。

  “我煮了稀饭……”

  “……那我吃一点好了。”

  自己沙哑的声音,听起来像个陌生人。

  我踉踉跄跄地坐了下来,瞥见矮桌上的隔热垫上,放着一个散发光泽的圆形物品。那一个手球大小的茶色陶器,散发出糖果般的光泽。

  这是我没看过的砂锅。

  混圆厚实的锅子上的茶色短把手,就像变身失败的狸猫尾巴一般,突兀地突出来。

  “……这是什么?”

  “这是雪平锅喔!”

  该不会之前都用报纸包着,放在厨房橱柜的深处吧?

  “用这个煮稀饭很好吃喔。”

  这么说着的母亲打开了锅盖,蒸气也一齐冒了出来。

  母亲拿起木杓,从狸猫似地砂锅里舀出一餐份的稀饭,放进碗里。

  我还记得当时的声音。

  每当杓子柄碰到砂锅边缘时,就会发出「叩、叩」的声音。

  和金属互相碰撞的尖锐声不同,砂锅和木头碰撞的声音没有棱角,很温和。

  不只有声音,用厚实的砂锅煮好之后,再用木杓舀起的稀饭也很饱满、温和。

  朝阳洒在餐桌上,稀饭的米粒也发出粼粼亮光。

  我已经三天没拿筷子了,身体仿佛不太熟悉,无法顺畅动作,稀饭就这么从筷子间滴落下来。

  “呼——呼——”

  我吹凉了热腾腾的稀饭后,吃了一些。

  “……”

  咀嚼几次,唾液开始分泌,不一会儿,味觉就恢复了。

  和米粒黏在一起的淀粉糊黏黏稠稠的,水分甜得令我吃惊。和蒸气的温度一起溢出的,是米的甘甜香气。我可以清楚感觉到,营养和美味同时渗进每个细胞里。

  “啊——”

  我忍耐著耳朵下方的抽痛。

  “我还要再吃一碗。”

  “喔,妳已经吃得下了吗?那就没什么大碍了。”

  母亲一边说,一边跟在準备出门去上班的父亲身后,目送他出门。我则用余光看着这一幕,并开始吃我的第二碗。

  在这个世界上,应该没有比这更好吃、更甜的料理了。稀饭的米粒在晨光下闪烁著光芒。因高烧而虚弱无力的自己,仿佛一点一点地重生。

  吃了两碗半的稀饭后,我回到棉被里,又变成了海牛。

  等我睡醒,已经是下午时分。母亲似乎出门买东西了,家里静悄悄的。我在睡衣上披好棉袄,走进厨房看看那个像狸猫的砂锅。早上的稀饭还剩下半锅。

  我把冷稀饭装进饭碗里吃。不可思议的是,稀饭冷了还是很好吃。

  我的舌头变得非常敏感,仿佛小小的一滴水滴渗进来,就能感受到几十种的甜味。在这样的舌头品尝之下,冰凉的稀饭的甜味,让唾液如同涌泉一般,不断分泌出来。这唾液更是无比甘甜。

  不管几碗我都吃得下。雪平锅全被我清空了,里面一粒米都不剩。我把木勺扔进空荡荡的砂锅里,发出“空”的圆滑声响。

  我放下筷子,抬起头来,发现自己焕然一新了—我用全新自己的全新目光,宛如初生婴儿般地看向窗外。一片片卫矛的叶子沐浴在午后阳光下,仿佛翡翠似地发着光,世界闪烁著清新的光辉。

  我发自内心地觉得,要是能一直以这一刻的心情活下去就好了……

≪记忆的味道≫[全世界最好吃的东西]165-170页
森下典子 著  羊恩媺 译
ISBN 978-986-6319-73-0