摘录

Christmas in Canaan Chapter One DJ and Rodney The school bus lurched forward, sending DJ Burton off balance and sprawling into the nearest empty seat. It was enough to cause Rodney Freeman to peek over the top of his book, surprised that the Burton boy had taken a seat so near the back of the bus. The truth was, Rodney didn't mind sitting in the back of the bus; in fact, he liked it. He could settle into his usual corner, spread out his books and read. Miss Eunice, his grandmother, kept a farm on the outskirts of Canaan, the farthest point from town on the whole route, so there was always time to read. The bus was perfect for that. There were no laws requiring Rodney Freeman or any other of the handful of black children be kept separate from the rest. The government had seen to that. But early that spring of 1960 what remained in the small town of Canaan, Texas, was an uneasy truce, a truce that served to hold the town together by separating the groups of people who lived there. Not that any of that mattered to Rodney. Miss Eunice had surprised him with a copy of James Fenimore Cooper's The Deerslayer just the night before, a special illustrated edition, and even the unexpected arrival of DJ Burton and the grinding of gears as the bus got up to speed didn't warrant much more than a glance over the top of the cover. DJ was big for his age, towheaded and with a broad face and eyes so pale blue they were almost gray. No sooner had he slouched into his seat than he began digging through scraps of paper in his book bag, searching for his unfinished homework. "Hey, DJ, you still doin' homework?" Jimmy Ray Thompson asked, peering over the back of his seat. "Yeah, well, how am I supposed to finish anything when my dad gives me chores till dark? And who asked you anyway?" DJ grumbled, hoping the others would see how busy he was and leave him alone. He hated always being the one kid in class who never had his homework done on time. He hated being called on to read in front of the others and hearing them snicker when he couldn't make out the words. Mostly he hated having to work so hard doing all those stupid chores for his dad on his stupid farm in a stupid town called Canaan. He found his geography homework at the bottom of his bag. "What's the capital city of New York?" he read the question aloud and sighed. He could look up the answer, but the very thought of having to look up something that seemed like such common knowledge pained him. It was the kind of answer that deserved to be shared. "Sarah!" he called to his sister. She was sitting with a clutch of girls her age near the front of the bus. "What?" Sarah answered without turning. He could see her ponytail bobbing as she chattered with her girlfriends and tried to ignore him. "What's the capital of New York?" "Look it up like you're supposed to," she said. Her voice was caked with such scorn, it sent her two friends into a fit of giggles. Jimmy Ray turned in his seat to join the discussion. "Why didn't you ask me?" he asked. Jimmy Ray considered himself a source of important information and was hurt he had been so easily overlooked. "You know that?" DJ asked. "I sure do. The capital of New York is New York." His voice rang with proud authority. But the answer only confused DJ. "Just New York?" DJ asked again. "Or New York City?" "Either one," Jimmy Ray answered. "They're the same place." Butch Waller shook his head violently in disagreement. "They ain't the same," Butch argued. "One's a city and the other's a state." "There's a New York that's a city, too," Jimmy Ray insisted. "That's New York City," Butch insisted right back. "Ah, you're crazy," Jimmy Ray muttered. "There ain't three." DJ looked at his two colleagues with a growing helplessness. What had been a simple request to help him cheat on his homework had now escalated into a full-fledged discussion on geography. "There's a plain New York that's a city, and there's a New York City that's a city and New York that's a state?" DJ was frustrated. "No, Jimmy Ray don't know his butt from a beehive," Butch announced. "The plain New York is the only one that's a state." "It's Albany." The voice came from somewhere in the back of the bus. "What?" asked DJ, turning quickly in the direction of the sound. "It's Albany," the voice said again. Suddenly every face on the bus was looking in the direction of the voice, which came from behind the cover of The Deerslayer . "What did you say?" DJ demanded. Rodney Freeman lowered the book and looked out over the cover at the faces staring back at him. "The capital of New York is Albany." There was a brief silence, followed first by a giggle from one of Sarah's friends and then by a more malevolent snicker from Butch Waller. "Hey, DJ, that colored boy's smarter 'n you. DJ spun back around, the first flush of red beginning to creep up his neck like the mercury in a storefront thermometer. "H-h-he ain't smarter," DJ stammered. "He just thinks he's smart. He's guessing, that's all." It wasn't so much that the boy knew the answer; DJ had his doubts about that. It wasn't even that he was one of "them back of the busers," at least not entirely. More than anything else it was the fact that this scrawny kid, who didn't do a thing except read all day, was so confident about the answer. "That's a pucky pile," DJ snarled at Rodney. "How do you know the capital of New York is Albany?" "My grandma told me, that's how." "I ain't never heard of your grandma and I ain't never heard of Albany." Then, DJ took up his pencil and began to write on the crumpled sheet of homework paper ... Christmas in Canaan . Copyright © by Kenny Rogers. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold. Excerpted from Christmas in Canaan by Kenny Rogers All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.