Max冬冬

《一天二十分钟》
2001年纽伯瑞文学奖得主
理查德•佩克

Twenty Minutes a Day
By Richard Peck

Read to your children
Twenty minutes a day；
You have the time,
And so do they.
Read while the laundry is in the machine,
Read while the dinner cooks；
Tuck a child in the crook of your arm
And reach for the library books.
Hide the remote,
Let the computer games cool,
For one day your children will be off to school；
Remedial? Gifted? You have the choice；
Let them hear their first tales
In the sound of your voice.
Read in the morning
Read over noon；
Read by light of
Goodnight Moon
Turn the pages together,
Sitting close as you’ll fit,
Till a small voice beside you says,
“Hey, don’t quit.”


20分钟一天

给孩子们读书吧，
20分钟一天。
这点时间你有，
孩子也有这个时间。
趁着洗衣服的时候读吧，
趁着做饭的时候读吧，
一手抱着孩子，
一手去把书拿。
把遥控藏起来吧，
让游戏停下来吧。
孩子早晚会去上学，
把你一个人留下。
想让孩子先行一步？
还是让孩子后天恶补？
如何决定？如何选择？
这个你心中定要有数。
那就让孩子在你的声音里
聆听人生第一个故事吧。
早上就开始读吧，
午后也别闲着，
借着午夜的月光，
继续给孩子读吧。
和孩子坐在一起，
和孩子一块翻书，
直到一个声音细细，
在你耳旁响起：
“别停下来！
继续，继续！”

Sleepyhead

Sleepyhead, sleepyhead,
Good night, good night, my Sleepyhead.

Your teeth are brushed, your book is read.
Go to sleep. It’s time for bed.

One more book, says Sleepyhead.

Sleepyhead, sleepyhead,
Sweet dreams, sweet dreams, my Sleepyhead.

We’ve hugged our hugs, the prayers are said.
Go to sleep. It’s time for bed.

One more hug, says Sleepyhead.

Sleepyhead, Sleepyhead,
Now close your eyes, my Sleepyhead.

We’ve kissed our kiss, your quilt is spread.
Go to sleep. It’s time for bed.

One more kiss, says Sleepyhead.

Sleepyhead, Sleepyhead,
The moon is high, my Sleepyhead.

You’ve drunk your drink.
Good night, I said. Go to sleep.
It’s time for bed.

One more drink, says Sleepyhead.

And…

One more teddy, one more snuggle.
One more comfy, cozy cuddle.

Just one more, says Sleepyhead.
I promise then I’ll go to bed.

One more story said just right, one more gaze upon the night.

Just one more, says Sleepyhead.
I promise then I’ll go to bed.

One more blanky piled on.
One more stretch and one more yawn…

Just one more, says Sleepyhead.
I promise then I’ll go to bed.

Sleepyhead, Sleepyhead.
Sleep tight, sleep tight, my Sleepyhead.
Tomorrow’s play is just ahead.
I love you so. Now rest your head.

Not a word says Sleepyhead.

Chapter 1 Fizz Ed Is the Coolest

My name is A.J. and I hate school.
Well, I hate that reading and writing and arithmetic part of school, anyway.
That stuff is for the birds!
There’s only one thing about school that I like.
Fizz Ed.
Fizz Ed! I love Fizz Ed! Fizz Ed is the coolest! Fizz Ed isn’t even like school at all. Fizz Ed is what you would be doing if you didn’t have to go to school. If you ask me, school would be cool if we could just have Fizz Ed all day long and forget about all that boring reading and writing and arithmetic stuff.
Well, actually, to be honest, I’ve never had Fizz Ed. At my school, the Ella Mentry School, we didn’t have Fizz Ed last year when we were in first grade. But my friend Billy around the corner goes to a different school. Billy’s in third grade, and he told me that at his school they play dodgeball and basketball and football in Fizz Ed. They get to do anything they want.
Man, I wish I could go to Billy’s school instead of boring old Ella Mentry School. I’ve been waiting forever until I got to second grade, when we would have Fizz Ed.
“Okay, everybody, it’s time to line up,” my teacher, Miss Daisy, announced one morning after we pledged the allegiance.
“Line up for what?” we all asked.
“Fizz Ed!” Miss Daisy said. “We’re going to meet Miss Small in the gym.”
“Yippee!”

The fair was coming at last.
Every year it visited the little town where Rosie and her brother Tom lived.
All the children ran out of the town to watch for the trucks that carried the fair.
As dusk fell, the fair drove into town.
The children cheered with joy.
When they went to bed that night, they were so excited they could hardly sleep.
The next day Rosie and Tom watched workers set up the fair.
When all was ready, they raced to the carousel.
That was the ride they loved best.
Around and around they went.
“I wish I could ride the carousel forever!” shouted Rosie.
But after a few days the fair moved on to another town.
The children were sad to see it go.
“Don’t forget to come back next year,” called Rosie.
That winter Rosie became ill, and the doctor was called.
He examined Rosie carefully and said that she would have to stay in bed until her fever was gone.
Spring came, but Rosie was still sick, and she was very sad.
“You will get well,” the doctor told her, “but it will take time.”
To her parents he said, “You must cheer Rosie up and give her hope.”
Tom overheard what the doctor said and had an idea.
He went to find Rosie’s friends.
“We must cheer Rosie up,” Tom said, “and give her hope.”
Then they all threw a coin in the fountain and made a wish.
Tom went home and emptied his piggy bank.
Then he went to the toy shop.
The next afternoon Rosie’s friends came to see her.
Each friend had made a picture for Rosie.
“Cheer up, Rosie,” they all said.
“Please get well soon.”
And they unrolled their pictures.
“Oh, what beautiful paintings,” said Rosie. “All my favorite things to ride on the carousel!”
And there were the snowflake, the wings of time, the kangaroo…
the story chair, the unicorn, and the throne.
“How I wish I could ride on them all right now!”
Then Tom gave Rosie his present. It was a little carousel that went around and around and played a pretty tune.
That night Rosie ran a high temperature.
If only the carousel would come back, she thought as she was falling asleep.
As her eyes closed, Rosie heard a voice.
It came from the little carousel:
“Step aboard and we will fly through the windows, through the sky.
Let me swing you to and fro in a land of ice and snow.”
With snowflakes falling everywhere, her fever fell in the cold night air.
Then she rode the wings of time while listening to their soothing thyme:
“Doctors come and doctors go,
but time is the best medicine I know.”
On she went, up through the air,
riding on the story chair,
to meet the friends
from books she’s read
each day as she lay sick in bed.
Then safe aboard the kangaroo
through the moonlit night she flew.
In splendor she was carried high
on a throne into the sky,
toward the moon all shining bright
on that magic, starry night.
And galloping through the Milky Way
she rode on freely toward the day.
Then spinning,
spinning round and round,
through the night she tumbled down,
falling… falling… falling…
Bump! Rosie awoke, sprawled on the floor beside her bed.
That morning the doctor came to see her.
“Good heavens, Rosie, you look so much better!” he said.
As the days passed, Rosie got stronger and stronger.
The doctor came for the last time and told her she was completely well and could go out to play.
Tom rushed out to tell Rosie’s friends.
And as they waited by Rosie’s house to welcome her, the fair came back to town.
Rosie and her friends watched the fair to go up.
Then they raced to the carousel.
Rosie rode on everything.
“Thank you, carousel, thank you,” she said as she went around and around.
This time when the fair left town Rosie was not sad, for she knew it was the carousel that had given her hope.

“Daddy,” said Tony. “I need a pet.”
“You do?” said his father.
“Yes,” said Tony.
“What kind?” said his father.
“Could I have an elephant?” said Tony.
“An elephant?” said his father.
“Where would you keep it?”
“Here in the apartment,” said Tony.
“How would you feed it? Where would it drink?”
“It could drink out of the bathtub,” said Tony. “We could send out for Chinese.”
“What if it got lonely?” said his father.
“Elephants live in herds.”
“We could get another elephant to keep it company,” said Tony.
“How would we move the elephants up here to the third floor?” said his father.
“Like pianos,” said Tony. “Pull them on ropes.”
“I don’t think elephants would fit through the window,” said his father.
“We could try,” said Tony.
“What if they got stuck?” said his father. “People would talk about us.”
“What would they say?” said Tony.
“They’d say we’re that family with the elephants sticking out the windows.”
“Well, how about a pony?” said Tony.
“A pony could walk up the stairs.”
“What would you do with it?” said his father.
“I’d gallop around the apartment and jump over the furniture,” said Tony.
“It would leave hoof marks,” said his father.
“I’d like to have a python,” said Tony. “Twenty feet long.”
“Where would you keep it?” said his father.
“Some of it on the sofa,” said Tony, “the rest of it on chairs.”
“Where would we sit?” said his father.
“A flock of woolly sheep would be nice,” said Tony. “They could keep us warm at night.”
“Sheep go B-A-A-A when you’re trying to sleep,” said his father.
“Not if they’re asleep, too.” said Tony. “We could give them a definite bedtime.”
“What if they woke up early?” said his father.
“Gorillas would be fun,” said Tony. “They could go out the window and climb up and down the side of the building.”
“What if they decided to climb in somebody else’s window?” said his father.
“A parrot would be a good pet,” said Tony. “Somebody to talk to.”
“Parrots screech,” said his father.
“What about a quiet bird?” said Tony.
“I’d like a flamingo, and maybe a pelican.”
“Flamingos and pelicans like beaches,” said his father.
“We could put sand in my room, and a palm tree,” said Tony.
“Flamingos and pelicans need to be warm,” said his father.
“We could close all the windows and turn up the heat,” said Tony.
“Expensive,” said his father.
“I know what,” said Tony.
“What?” said his father.
“We could fill the living room with water.”
“And then?” said his father.
“We could get a dolphin,” said Tony, “and a baby whale.”
“Both?” said his father.
“All the kids from school could come over and swim with the dolphin and the baby whale,” said Tony. “Then they could sit on the sand under the palm tree and have a picnic.”
His father didn’t say anything.
“I’d make the sandwiches,” said Tony. “I’d clean up afterward.”
Tony and his father were quiet for a while.
“Maybe we should get something small,” said Tony.
“What could that be?” said his father.
“Puppies are small,” said Tony.
“Just what I was thinking,” said his father.
“Puppies are small.”
“Could we get one?” said Tony.
“Maybe we could take a look thus afternoon,” said his father.
“What about this morning?” said Tony.
“It’s impossible,” said his father.
“What about now?” said Tony.
“Now is good,” said his father, and they went out the door.

Chapter 10 The Big Stupid Art Contest

The next morning I was on my best behavior. I was trying very hard to not say anything mean to Andrea.
But it wasn’t easy, because she is so annoying. When Andrea gave an apple to Miss Daisy as a present, I wanted to say something mean. But I didn’t.
When Andrea showed everybody the A+ she got on the math quiz, I wanted to say something mean. But I didn’t. When Andrea told Miss Daisy how pretty her hair looked, I wanted to say something mean. But I didn’t.
Andrea wasn’t saying anything mean to me either. We both wanted that candy bar.
Miss Daisy was happy that Andrea and I were being so nice to each other.
When it came time for lunch, she sat us at the same table with Ryan and Michael and Emily. I traded Emily my banana, and she traded me her potato chips.
“Did you all bring in your stuff for the art contest?” asked Emily. “Ms. Hannah is going to judge the winner this afternoon.”
I had forgotten all about the stupid art contest. Michael said he made a statue out of toothpicks. Ryan said he made a papier-mâché head. Emily made a collage. Andrea made a mobile with hanging butterflies (of course!).
I was the only one who didn’t bring in anything. I hate art. Art is stupid.
“Did you see the art room?” Andrea asked. “When I brought my mobile in, the place was just a big mess.”
“Of course it’s a big mess,” Ryan said.“Have you ever seen Ms. Hannah throw anything away?”
“She can’t throw anything away,” Michael said. “She doesn’t have a garbage can.”
“That’s exactly what I mean,” Andrea said. “Ms. Hannah just gets more and more stuff, and never throws anything away. My mother is a psychologist. She helps people with their problems. And my mother says that people who can’t throw anything away have a problem.”
I was going to tell Andrea that she was the one who had a problem. But I didn’t. I wanted that candy bar.
“You know, everything isn’t art,” Andrea said. “Some things are garbage. Maybe Ms. Hannah became an art teacher because she couldn’t throw anything away. She might be a sick, sick woman who needs help.”
“I never thought of it that way,” Ryan said.
“We’ve got to help her!” said Emily.
“What can we do?” asked Michael.
“I’ve got an idea!” said Emily. “Why don’t we sneak into the art room during recess and clean it up? When Ms. Hannah sees how neat and clean everything is, she will realize she has a problem.”
“That’s a great idea!” Andrea said.
It didn’t sound like such a great idea to me. Cleaning things up was no fun at all. I don’t like cleaning my room at home. I sure didn’t want to clean up the art room.
But I didn’t want to get into an argument with Andrea either. If we had a fight, I wouldn’t get my candy bar.
After we finished lunch, the five of us snuck down the hall to the art room.
Andrea was right. The place was a big mess. That’s when I came up with the greatest idea in the history of the world.
“You know what?” I said. “Instead of cleaning this place, we should mess it up even worse.”
“Why would you want to do that?” Emily asked.
“If we really mess it up bad, Ms. Hannah will be so shocked that she will realize she has a problem.”
It sounded like a genius idea to me.
Cleaning isn’t fun at all, but messing things up is lots of fun.
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, A.J.,” Andrea said.
“Sure it’s a good idea,” I said.
“Trust me, A.J. It’s not a good idea.”
Andrea thinks she knows everything.
Well, she doesn’t know everything.
“I’m not cleaning this place up,” I said.
“I’d rather go outside for recess.”
“You promised you would help,” Andrea said.
“I did not.”
“Did too.”
“I hate you, A.J.!”
That’s when Andrea did the dumbest thing in the history of the world. She pushed me.
If I knew she was going to do something dumb like that, I could have gotten ready for it. But how was I to know she was going to do something dumb like push me?
My foot must have slipped or something, because I fell backward.
Right behind me was Ms. Hannah’s newspaper ball. When I fell backward, I landed on top of the ball.
The ball rolled. I rolled on top of it.
“Watch out!” Emily screamed.
My foot hit Andrea’s butterfly mobile that was hanging from the ceiling. The butterfly mobile landed on my head.
On the floor behind the ball were a bunch of cans of paint. I tried to get out of the way, but I couldn’t. When I hit the ground, I hit the paint first.
“You stupid dumbhead!” Andrea shouted. “You crushed my butterflies!”
“You pushed me into them!”
“I did not! You fell on them on purpose!”
I got up off the floor. Paint and butterflies were all over me. Red. Yellow. Blue. Green. It was cool.
“Hey, look!” I said. “Art is everywhere.” Ryan and Michael laughed.
“How can you make jokes at a time like this?” Andrea said. “You ruined my mobile! Now I won’t win the contest!”
“You’re going to be in big trouble, A.J.,” Emily said.
“Somebody’s coming,” Ryan said.
“Everybody shut up!”
That’s when the door opened. Ms. Hannah and Mr. Klutz came in. I was standing there with paint and Andrea’s stupid butterflies hanging all over me.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Mr. Klutz asked. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to say. I had to think fast. “It’s . . . performance art,” I said.
Everybody looked at me for like a mil- lion hundred seconds.
“Yeah,” Andrea finally said. “It’s friendship performance art. A.J. and I made it together.”
Ms. Hannah walked around me and looked me over. One of the butterflies slid down my head and stopped at the end of my nose.
“It’s Connecticut friendship performance art,” I said.
“I think it’s fabulous!” Ms. Hannah said.
“It is so very creative. I believe the winners of the art contest are Andrea and A.J.!”
Everybody cheered and clapped. Mr. Klutz reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out two candy bars.
“I’m so pleased to see the two of you are getting along so well together,” he said. “I promised you each a little something if you could go a day without fighting. Here is your prize. Congratulations!”
The candy bar tasted great. Maybe art isn’t so stupid after all.
After it was all over, I still hated
Andrea. Andrea still hated me. Ms. Hannah still had a big problem with collecting garbage. I said I would try to be nice to Andrea. She said she would try to be nice to me. And we both said we would try to help Ms. Hannah with her problem.
But it won’t be easy!

Chapter 9 Mr. Klutz and the Secret Drawer

“You two,” Miss Daisy said. “Go to Mr. Klutz’s office. Now.”
“Oooooooooooooh!”
I thought Andrea was going to kill me on the way to the principal’s office. She was really mad. Andrea had never been to Mr. Klutz’s office before. That’s because she never does anything wrong.
“I can’t believe I’m in trouble,” Andrea said. “It’s all your fault, A.J.”
“Relax,” I said. “I’ve been to the principal’s office plenty of times. Mr. Klutz is a good guy.”
Mr. Klutz was sitting at his desk talking on the phone when we arrived. He is not only the principal of the school, but he also has no hair at all.
Once he let everybody in our class touch his head. It was cool.
“Are we going to be punished?” Andrea asked when Mr. Klutz hung up the phone. She was all nervous and talked in a quiet voice.
“I don’t believe in punishing children,” Mr. Klutz said. “I believe in rewarding children for doing good things. Now tell me, why can’t you two get along?”
“He says mean things to me,” Andrea said.
“She thinks she knows everything,” I said.
“He hates everything.”
“Not everything. Just you.”
Mr. Klutz leaned forward in his chair and rubbed his forehead. Grown-ups always rub their foreheads when they are thinking. I guess it must help their brains work better. When you get old, your brain doesn’t work as good anymore so you have to rub your forehead to get it
going again.
“What can we do to solve this problem?” Mr. Klutz asked.
“Kick A.J. out of school.”
“Kick Andrea out of school.”
“I’m not kicking anyone out of school,” Mr. Klutz said. “The two of you are going to have to live with each other.”
“In the same house?” I asked. “I thought you said you don’t punish kids.”
Mr. Klutz laughed even though I didn’t say anything funny. Then he took a key and opened one of his desk drawers. The drawer was filled all the way up to the top with candy. Chocolates. Lollipops.
Caramels. He had like a whole candy shop in his drawer. I decided right there that I want to be a principal when I grow up.
“Would you like some of this?” Mr. Klutz asked us.
Andrea and I nodded our heads and licked our lips.
“Here’s the deal. If you two can go a full day without fighting, I will give you each a candy bar tomorrow.”
“How about two candy bars?” I suggested.
“One candy bar each,” Mr. Klutz said. “That’s my final offer. Take it or leave it.”
I don’t like Andrea. She doesn’t like me either. But we both like candy bars.
I would have to go one day without fighting with Andrea. One day wasn’t so long. I could handle one day.
“Okay,” Andrea and I said.
Then we all shook on it. Shook hands, I mean. We didn’t just start shaking.
That would have been dumb.

Another inky evening’s here –
the air is cool and calm and clear.
We’ve feasted, fluttered, swooped, and soared,
and yet… we’re still a little bored.
All this sameness leaves us blue
and makes us ache for something new.
Then word spreads quickly from afar:
a window has been left ajar.
Can it be true? Oh, can it be?
Yes! – Bat Night at the library!
The sky is lively as we race
together toward our favorite place.
Eager wings beat autumn air –
Look, that’s it. We’re almost there!
Then squeezed together, wing to wing,
we rocket through the opening.
We’ve waited for this night all year,
but this is it! At last…
…we’re here.
For most old bats, this isn’t new –
they’ve got lots of things to do.
They’ll flutter off and lose themselves
among the books lined up on shelves.
Other bats, in munchy moods,
will study guides to fancy foods
or hang out by a lamp instead
to talk about the books they’ve read.
But little bats will have to learn
the reason that we must return.
The ones who haven’t come before
have no idea what’s in store.
Some of them will drift away
and figure out a game to play,
like shaping shadows on the wall,
or wingtip-tag around the hall.
This big box is loads of fun,
blasting brighter than the sun.
Instead of copying books from shelves,
we can duplicate ourselves!
Doesn’t matter where you look;
there’s nothing like a pop-up book!
The fountain water’s nice and cool
and makes a splendid swimming pool.
Please keep it down – you must behave!
This library is not your cave!
It’s hard to settle down and read
when life flits by at dizzy speed.
But storytime is just the thing
to rest a play-exhausted wing.
And if we listen, we will hear
some distant voices drawing near –
Louder, louder, louder still,
they coax and pull us in, until…
everyone – old bat or pup –
has been completely swallowed up
and lives inside a book instead
of simply hearing something read.
Breathless, lost within the tale,
no one sees the sky grow pale.
What is that light? A lamp? The moon?
Our bookish feast can’t end so soon.
It feels as though we’ve just begun,
but now we leave our books half done.
Through the window, into sky –
it’s much too late – we’ve got to fly.
But maybe a librarian
will give us bats this chance again –
and leave a window open wide
to let us share the world inside!
For now, we’ll dream of things we’ve read,
a universe inside each head.
Every evening, one and all
will listen for that late-night call:
Can it be true? Oh, can it be?
Yes! – Bat Night at the library!

Chapter 8 The Friendship Picture

When we got back to school, Ms. Hannah took us to the art room. What a mess!
There was more junk than ever in there. Her newspaper ball was bigger too.
It was almost as tall as me.
Ms. Hannah said she hoped the art we saw in the museum had inspired us to create art on our own. She passed out paper and pencils and said that today we were going to draw friendship pictures.
“What’s a friendship picture?” Emily asked.
“A friendship picture is a picture that two people draw together,” she said.
“That sounds like fun,” said Andrea.
“Can Emily and I work on a friendship picture together? We’re best friends.”
“Can I draw a picture with A.J.?” asked Ryan.
“No,” said Ms. Hannah. “I want Andrea and A.J. to work on a friendship picture together.”
Everybody laughed even though Ms. Hannah didn’t say anything funny. That’s because everybody knows that Andrea and I hate each other.
“Do I have to work with him?” Andrea asked.
“Do I have to work with her?” I asked.
“Yes,” said Ms. Hannah. “Andrea, you love butterflies, right? A.J., you love skateboards. Let’s see the two of you draw a skateboarding butterfly.”
We got to work. Andrea drew the butterfly and the background. I drew a helmet on the butterfly, a skateboard under it, and a bunch of ramps and stuff.
Our friendship picture actually came out pretty good. Ms. Hannah was so impressed at how well me and Andrea worked together that she went to get Miss Daisy.
“Hey, this is pretty cool,” I said, holding up our friendship picture.
“Wow,” agreed Andrea, taking the friendship picture. “I’m going to take this home so my mom can put it up on the refrigerator.”
“I want to take it home,” I said, grabbing the friendship picture away from Andrea. “My mom will want to put it up on our refrigerator.”
“You hate art, A.J.,” Andrea said, grabbing the friendship picture back. “Why should you get to take it home?”
“Because I want it, that’s why,” I said. I grabbed the friendship picture back from Andrea. Only this time Andrea didn’t let go.
She pulled on one side of the friendship picture. I pulled on the other side of the friendship picture. That’s when our friendship picture ripped right down the middle.
“You ruined our friendship picture!”
Andrea shouted. “I did not! You did!”
“I hate you!”
“I hate you back!”
I heard Ms. Hannah and Miss Daisy coming down the hall toward the art room.
“Wait until you see how well A.J. and Andrea are working together,” Ms. Hannah said as they walked into the room. “You won’t believe your eyes.”