"Steven Gould - Jumper 03 - Griffin's Story" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gould Stephen Jay)

history unit and maybe a French essay or two. If only we could find this germ, the
I'll–go–do–schoolwork germ, we could market it. Mothers everywhere would worship at my
feet. Dare I say sainthood? It could hap–"
I shut my bedroom door loudly.
Paully would probably never say anything. I mean, what could he say? He was the kind of
boy who didn't like looking stupid, probably because he was stupid. Would he be stupid
enough to tell this story? If he just said I scampered like a baby that would be fine. I wouldn't
care about that.
I did a unit of long division since I said I would. Actually, I rather liked math. Everything
works or it doesn't. There isn't anything gray about it. And every time I stopped working on the
math problems, I started thinking about Paully and my jumping. Even drawing, my usual escape,
didn't work.
I did three units of math.
Mum and Dad were talking about an upcoming business trip at dinner so I didn't have to
say much. I knew if I didn't eat, they'd really begin to suspect something. I ate as much as I
could but it sat in my stomach like lead.
"What are you thinking about, Griff?"
"What? Uh, nothing, Dad."
"You've been staring at the wall for five minutes. No moving fingers, I hope? Mene mene
tekel upharsin and all that."
Dad's a bit odd sometimes. "Math, I guess. And I was thinking about karate today. And when
we did paintball out in the desert." All true. All lies.
He nodded. Both of them watched me and it felt like the truth was written across my
forehead. I could feel my ears heating up. "I don't understand why things repeat sometimes to
infinity."
It was my best distraction. When in doubt, always ask a math question or a question about
Le Petit Prince. Either could occupy them for hours, avoiding whatever they'd been on about.
The downside was, well, it could occupy them for hours.
"What do you mean?"
"Like ten divided by three. You know–the answer is three point three three three three
three three three and so on. Forever, I guess. But does it go on forever? How do they know?
Maybe after enough times it becomes two? Or four? They call it a rational number, but
really–what's rational about that?"
So Mum pulled down a pad of paper and Dad pulled out an old textbook and by the time I
escaped to my room, an hour and a half later, they were showing each other that it was really a
function of a base–ten numbering system. "Yeah, if you divide ten by three in base nine, you get
three."
I shut the door to my room and flopped facedown onto my bed. I should have told them. I
wanted to tell them. But I didn't want to move again.
I changed for bed early, and tried to lose myself in reading, in drawing, even math. Later I
brushed my teeth without being asked, causing more comments from Mum. She came in and
kissed me good night. Dad stood in the doorway, said, "Good dreams, Griff."
Mum asked, "You want the door shut?"
"Yeah."
"Bonne nuit, mon cher."
Normally I'm asleep in minutes but this time I couldn't get it out of my head. I'd lied about
it. I'd broken the rules.
So they'll never know. Only Paully saw and who would believe him, even if he talked?
I buried my head under my pillow but it didn't help. I'd know. Didn't matter if Mum and
Dad found out. I'd always know.