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We All Fall Down (We All Fall Down)

De (autor)
Notă GoodReads:
en Limba Engleză Paperback – March 2006 – vârsta de la 10 ani
Anovelfromoneofthecountry’smostprolificandpopularYAauthors,thisbook,setinNewYorkCityonSeptember11th,showsushowtheexperiencesofthatdayprofoundlychangedoneteen’slifeandrelationships.

TodayisSeptember10,2001,andWill,agradeninestudent,isspendingthedayathisfather’sworkplacetomorrow.Aspartofaschoolassignment,allthestudentsinhisclasswillbegoingtotheirparentstomorrow,butWillisn’texcitedaboutit–he’drathersleepinanddonothingwithhisfriends.Hisfatherdoesn’tevenhaveanexcitingjoblikehisbestfriendJames’sfatherwhoisafireman.Will’sdadworksforaninternationaltradingcompanyandhastowakeupearlyeverymorningtocommutetohisofficeontheeighty-fifthfloorinthesouthbuildingoftheWorldTradeCenterinManhattan.Willdoesn’tseehisfatherveryoftenbecauseofthehoursheputsinattheoffice.Hedoubtsthathisdadwillbothermakingtimeforhimtomorrowevenwhentheyaresupposedtobespendingthedaytogether.

Inthisfast-pacedanddramaticnewnovelbybestsellingauthorEricWalters,Willdiscoversanewsideofhisfatherduringaneventthatcontinuestoaffecttheworld.AsWill’snewteachersays,tomorrow“mightbeanexperiencethatchangesyourentirelife.”
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Specificații

ISBN-13: 9780385661928
ISBN-10: 0385661924
Pagini: 192
Dimensiuni: 139 x 211 x 20 mm
Greutate: 0.2 kg
Editura: DD CANADA
Colecția We All Fall Down
Seria We All Fall Down


Notă biografică

EricWalters,aformerelementary-schoolteacher,beganwritingasawaytoencouragehisstudentstobecomemoreenthusiasticaboutliterature.HismanyworksincludeCampX,RoyalRansom,andRun.HisnovelshavewonnumerousawardsincludingtheSilverBirch,BlueHeron,RedMaple,SnowWillowandRuthSchwartzawardsandhavereceivedhonoursfromtheCanadianLibraryAssociationBookoftheYearandUNESCO’sinternationalawardforLiteratureinServiceofTolerance.HelivesinMississauga,Ontario.

Extras

ChapterOne

"Okay,everybody,let’ssettledownandgettowork!”Mrs.Phelps,myhistoryteacher,yelledoutoverthedinoftheclass.

Slowly,reluctantly,peopleendedtheirconversationsandshuffledtotheirseats.Mondaymorningat8:30wasnotagreattimetodoanythingexceptsleep.Upuntillastweek,that’swhatIwasdoingatthistime.Istillcouldn’tbelievehowfastthesummerholidayshadgoneby.

WhiletherewerenoassignedseatsIslippedintomyusualspot,likeeverybodyelse.Itwasamazinghowquickly–withinafewdays–everybodyhadfallenintopredictablepatterns.NotthatIwascomplaining,becauseIhadagoodseat–notbythefront,butnotintheverybackrow,either.Teachersalwayskeptacloseeyeonanybodywhosatinthelastrow.Onmyleft-handsidewasmybestfriend,James.Besidehim,clearlyvisibleasIinnocentlylookedinhisdirectiontotalk,wasagirlwhohadlotsofcleavage,worelittletinytopsandhadatendencytobendoveralottogetthingsoutofthepackunderneathherdesk.Actually,thiswasaverygoodseat.

“You’llhavetoexcusemeifIstilldon’tknowallofyournames,”Mrs.Phelpssaid.

Ifiguredhernotknowingminewasstillaplus.

“Ihavefourgradeninehistoryclassesthissemester,sothat’soveronehundredstudentswhoarenewtotheschoolandnewtome.”

Ididn’tknowMrs.Phelpsverywellyet,butIlikedher.Shewasinterestedinherstudents,butnottoointerested.Andsheseemedtotakeherjobseriously,butnottooseriously.Sheworeaweddingring,andtherewerepicturesofacoupleofkidsonherdesk.Thatmeantshehadalifebeyondhistory.Teacherswholivedfortheirsubjectcouldreallymaketheirstudents’livesmiserable.

Thisschoolwassomuchbiggerthanmyoldschool.Itwashardtogofrombeingthebigguysingradeeighttobeingthelittlekidsingradenine.Highschoolwaslikeawholedifferentworld–aworldinhabitedbythousandsandthousandsofkidsI­didn’tknow,allofwhomseemedawholelotbiggerthanme.Thankgoodnessalmostallofmyclassfromtheoldschoolhadmadethetransfer,soIknewlotsofpeoplealready.Actually,peoplelikeJamesI’dknownsinceKindergarten.GoodoldJames.Ilookedoverandpasthimtothatgirl...wow...maybetherewasnothingwrongwithgettingtoknownewpeople,either.

“I’mgoingtorecitealineofpoetryandIwantyoualltosaythenextline.”

TherewasanaudiblegrumblingandIturnedtoJamestoaskifI’dmissedapoemintheassignedreading.Suddenlymyattentionwascaughtasthatgirlslowlyreachedunderneaththedeskforherhistorytextbook.MymouthdroppedopenandItriednottostare...Iwonderedifshewasdoingthatbyaccidentorifitwasaverydeliberatethingmeanttodriveboys–todriveme–crazy.

Ringaroundtherosie!”Mrs.Phelpssangout.

Apocketfullofposies,”mostofuschantedbackafteraslighthesitation.

Ashes,ashes,”shecontinued.

Weallfalldown,”weallsaid,finishingtherhyme.

“Excellent!Soyouallknowthatpoem.”

“Poem?Isn’tthatlikeanurseryrhyme?”somebodyasked.

“Rhyme,asinpoem,”Mrs.Phelpsreplied.“Sincethisisahistoryclass,cananybodytellmethehistoryofthisverse?”

“Ithinkmymothertaughtittome,soitmustbeprettyold,”agirlsaid.

Irealizedthatwiththeexceptionofafewkidsintheclassitwasn’tjustMrs.Phelpswhodidn’tknowpeople’snames.

“Itisveryold.Evenolderthanyourmotherorgrandmother,orgreat-grandmother,”Mrs.Phelpssaid.

“Andit’sEnglish,right?”asecondgirlsaid–orreallyasked.

“OldEnglish.Veryold.Thispoemisbelievedtobesomewherebetweensixandsevenhundredyearsold.”

Thatsurprisedme,andjudgingfromthelooksandmurmursfromtherestoftheclassIwasn’talone.

“Doesanybodyknowwhatthisversemeans?”

“It’ssomethingkidssaywhentheyplaygamesorskip,”thefirstgirlreplied.

“Yeah,theyplayedalotofgamesbackthenbecausetheydidn’thaveTVorradiosorevenvideogames,”aguyadded.“Alltheyhadwas,like,rocks...Ithinkthat’swhytheycalledittheStoneAge.”

“Actually,thetimeframewhenthatversewaswrittenismostcommonlycalledtheDarkAges,butyou’recorrect,theydidn’thaveanythingthatwewouldconsidermodern,”Mrs.Phelpssaid.

Iwasimpressedbyhowgentlyshe’dsaidthat,insteadofjusttellinghimthathewasstupid.

“Andtherhymebecamepopularbecauseoftheabsenceofsomeothermodernamenities...primarilyhealthcare,medicineandpropersanitation.Manypeoplebelievethatthepoemthatyouallknewandrecitedisaboutthebubonicplague,abouttheBlackDeath.”

Jamesleanedoverandgavemealittlenudge.“BlackDeath...howaboutthatforanameforthegroup?”hewhispered.

Ishookmyhead.Weweren’tblack,andIwasseriouslyhopingthatnobodywoulddie.JamesplayedguitarandIplayedbassandsaxophone.We’dbeenjammingwithacoupleofotherguysinJames’sgarage,andweweretryingtocomeupwithanameforourband.

“I’lltranslatethepoemforyou,”Mrs.Phelpssaid.“Thefirstline,Ringaroundtherosie,referstotherose-coloreddiscolorationoftheskinandfleshcausedbytheplague.Theskinturnspurpleandthenblack,mostoftenintheextremities...fingers,toesand,inmales,thegenitalia.”

Ifeltashuddergoupmyspineasanaudiblegroancamefromthemalesintheroom.Somehowthatlastpartseemedalotworsethanyourfingersandtoeschangingcolor.