Читать книгу Battle of the Beasts - Ned Vizzini - Страница 13

On the way home from school, as soon as Angel had rolled up the partition in his town car (he was shouting at sports radio, “No way should that bum get into the Hall of Fame! He ate steroids like M&Ms!”), Brendan asked Cordelia, “A frozen Snickers?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know what’s worse: You lying to me, or you expecting me to believe such a ridiculous lie.”

“It’s not a lie.”

“Do you know how many lawsuits Snickers would have if people bit into their candy and lost their teeth?”

“Sorry for not following the Snickers lawsuit blog. But I do know it happened to me. Anyway, what happened to your backpack?”

Cordelia pointed to the plastic bag below Brendan’s seat, where he was carrying his books, having ditched his knockoff Mastermind bag in the locker room trash. Eleanor looked at it too. Brendan had a lot of explaining to do.

“I, mmm …” He fumbled. “I met a collector.”

“A collector?”

“Yeah, a guy whose hobby is collecting Mastermind stuff,” said Brendan.

“This ‘collector’ just happened to be hanging out at school?” asked a skeptical Cordelia.

“Mom said you’re not s’posed to talk to strangers who hang out around school,” said Eleanor.

“It wasn’t a stranger,” said Brendan. “It was someone I know.”

“Who?”

“Norm the janitor.”

“Norm the janitor’s kinda weird,” said Cordelia.

“Yeah,” added Eleanor. “He’s always asking me if I wear Louboutin shoes.”

“Anyway, he offered to pay me one hundred dollars more for the bag than I originally bought it for,” said Brendan.

“The school janitor is going to pay you eight hundred bucks for a backpack?” asked Cordelia.

“Yep,” said Brendan. “Then I’ll be able to pay Mom back and—”

Eleanor interrupted. “That’s even stupider than Cordelia’s story. You both need to stop lying.”

Brendan and Cordelia looked at the floor. It hurt to be caught out.

“All right, it’s my turn to tell you guys what happened today,” said Eleanor. “But I’m telling the truth. These two girls told me I need a new phone.” Eleanor pulled out her starter phone. “Is this really so bad?”

“Yeah, Nell,” said Brendan. “You should ask Mom for a new one.”

“But I like it! It’s good enough for me! I don’t need all this fancy new stuff we have. I don’t even like being driven around in this car! It’s weird.”

“You’re the one who made all this happen,” said Cordelia. “You wished for the money. Think how broke we would be if we didn’t have it!”

“I don’t care,” said Eleanor. “And think if you’re Mom. Would you want to hear me asking for a new phone the same night you hear that you lost your backpack and you lost your tooth?”

Eleanor was getting upset.

Cordelia gave her a hug, and then Brendan did.

“Don’t worry,” said Brendan. “After she finds out how messed up Deal and me are, she’ll be happy all you’re asking for is a new phone. And if those girls at school make fun of you again, just get your big brother on it.”

“Yeah?” asked Eleanor, still held tight by her siblings.

“Sure,” said Brendan. “You shoulda seen what happened when Scott Calurio started hassling me today. Let’s just say he won’t be doing it again.”

“Thanks, Bren,” said Eleanor.

Brendan gave her a big fake smile. Cordelia noticed this and realised her brother was lying. But she didn’t say a word. She just felt cold. We’re all lying about something. Maybe even Eleanor.

The car went over a big bump and their hug separated.

Back at home, Eleanor waited for the right moment to approach her mom. She decided that after dinner, when the dishes were cleared and the dishwasher was on, she’d send a text with a riddle she heard at school: What do you call a snoring bull? But she wouldn’t add the answer: A bulldozer. Then she would make up a story about how her phone was broken and some of her texts didn’t always get sent.

When the time came, though, Eleanor decided, I’m not lying to my mom. We’ve got enough secrets in this house.

“Hey, Mom!”

Mrs Walker was on the couch. Brendan and Cordelia were off upstairs. Dr Walker had never showed up for dinner.

“I think it’s time for an upgrade.” Eleanor presented her phone. “I know you don’t want me on the internet a lot, but you can get me a data thingy with tiny internet, or I could just take Dad’s other phone if he doesn’t want it—”

Mrs Walker sat up straight. “What do you mean, ‘Dad’s other phone’?”

Eleanor backpedalled. “I meant, Dad’s old phone.”

“No,” said Mrs Walker. “You definitely said other.”

“Right, well … you know, being dyslexic, I sometimes screw up words,” Eleanor said.

“You and I both know that isn’t part of being dyslexic,” said Mrs Walker. “Does your father have a secret phone?”

Eleanor gulped. Her mother’s eyes were … Eleanor looked for the word. Not mad … not sad … Anxious. And that’s worse than anything.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Look.” Mrs Walker took Eleanor’s hand. “Your father hasn’t been acting like himself and I really need to find out what’s going on. I can’t promise you that it will be easy, but if he has a secret phone, and you show it to me, it will help us figure out what his problems really are.”

“And then we can solve them?”

Mrs Walker nodded.

“And be a normal family again?”

“Well, I don’t know if any family is normal.”

“We used to be more normal.”

“I will grant you that.”

“Okay,” Eleanor said. “I’ll show you, Mom. But you can’t tell anyone what I’ve been doing.”