作者：美国迪士尼公司
出版社：华东理工大学出版社
格式: AZW3, DOCX, EPUB, MOBI, PDF, TXT
迪士尼大电影双语阅读.小飞象 Dumbo试读：
PROLOGUE
（MISSOURI, 1919）Twelve-year-old Milly Farrier leaned against the grimy window of the train's passenger car as it rolled through the plains of whichever state they were in now. If she squinted, the yellow grasses, clusters of emerald trees, and occasional farmhouses all swirled together—almost like one of her mother's abstract paintings.
Of course, Max Medici, the circus director, had always made Annie Farrier stick to a more relatable style for the boxcar signs and fairground banners. Not too abstract, but not too realistic. No, he wouldn't want that to destroy the magic of the experience. Only Milly, Joe, and their father had gotten to appreciate the sweep of colors her mother had brushed onto canvas in what she called her “action” pieces. They captured what the audience and circus lights looked like to her as she hung upside down from a horse during the show, wind whipping through her hair.
Milly's stomach twisted and a tear slid down her cheek as she clutched the key dangling from her necklace.
A door in the ceiling screeched open and her younger brother dropped down into the car. She'd told him countless times not to cross between the train cars unless the train was at a standstill, but the eight-year-old never listened.
Quickly, Milly wiped her face dry. She had to be strong for him now.
“Joe, you know you're not supposed to change cars while we're moving—” Milly scolded.
“Unless it's an emergency,” Joe finished as he got to her row. “But it is an emergency! Guess what, guess what?” Joe bounced onto the wooden bench across from her. His floppy brown hair bobbed lightly, and his smile was so wide it could have split the sky. It was nice to see him so happy.
“What?”
“We got a letter! From Dad!”
Milly's heart nearly stopped, but Joe kept going. “It was jumbled up in Mr. Medici's accounting mail at the last station, and he just found it.” Beaming, Joe reached into his jacket and pulled out a stained white envelope with a flourish.
Milly resisted the urge to lunge for it. Joe handed it over and she tugged out the creased paper, her eyes drinking up her father's loose handwriting. As she read the words, Joe babbled on.
“He's coming home, Milly! The army's released him with a medal and everything. Mr. Medici already sent off a telegram telling him to meet us in Joplin.”
Tears of joy pricked her eyes as she smiled up at Joe.
“He's coming home,” she echoed in wonder.
“I can't wait to hear all his stories,” Joe said. “I know he couldn't put anything in the letters in case they fell into enemy hands, but I'll bet he is a hero! Thundering onto the battlefield. I bet the Germans just threw up their hands in surrender...”
Milly's mind drifted, her brother's chattering fading into the background, just like the swaying of the train. She clutched the letter to her chest as though she could grab hold of her dad through his words. But she'd be able to hug him soon enough. Just a little bit longer. He'd make everything all right. Milly knew he couldn't bring back her mother—nobody could do that—but her dad was strong, her dad was brave, and he could do just about anything else.
They wouldn't have to worry anymore. He'd take care of everything. He'd take care of them.
CHAPTER 1
With a squeal of brakes, the train shuddered backward to the edge of the tracks, dead-ending on the side of a wide meadow. Joe whooped loudly as his body was flung into the air, only one hand anchoring him to the pole at the back of the caboose. Then the jolt of the stop slammed him back onto the porch, his shoes sliding across the floorboards.
Milly wouldn't approve. She'd scold him for being reckless. Her forehead would get that wrinkle in the middle that had never been there before Mama died. But Milly wasn't there to see.
“Yeehaw!” Joe shouted as he leapt from the train.
They were finally there: Joplin, Missouri, where his dad would meet them any day now.
Across the meadow, several boys his age raced toward him, waving madly. Joe raised his hat in return. Well, not his hat; it was his dad's and a bit too large for him, truth be told, but the other boys couldn't see that from this far away.
Shhhboom. Boxcar doors slid open down the line and the circus crew hopped out in a well-rehearsed dance, one of them staying behind in each car to toss down the supplies. The faded white-and-red-striped fabrics and poles for the tents came out first, along with the fence to keep out those seeking a free peek.
“Hiya, Joe,” Rongo called. The strongman hefted a stack of boards that weighed significantly more than the fake inflatable barbells he wielded onstage.
“Hi, Rongo.” Joe waved as he ducked under a roll two men were lugging toward the field.
“Get to your own post,” Rufus Sorghum spat at him.
Joe gave the grouchy roustabout a cheeky salute, then scampered off to where Milly was already sliding crates down a ramp. In the boxcar behind her, Catherine the Greater, the magician's assistant and wife, was carefully sorting more. There were a lot of boxes.
The meadow might have been peaceful and empty now, but before nightfall a border fence would encircle a village of tents, with the animal enclosures set up as far from the fence as possible. Medici didn't want Joplin's citizens dodging entrance fees to view the creatures.
“Oh, good, you're here,” Milly said. “Let's get these over—”
“Have you seen Barrymore?” a frantic voice called.
“Oh, no,” Milly said, exchanging an amused grimace with Joe as Catherine came to the doorway to see what the fuss was about. Puck, another one of the performers, sounded panicky.
“He must have gotten loose again,” Joe said. He sidled toward the next car. “You know, I can get under the cars and up on top, look for him in all the tight spaces he loves...”
Milly sighed. “Fine, go find the monkey.”
Joe was off before she'd finished the sentence.
“Just get back here as soon as you do!” she called after her brother. Shaking her head, she continued stacking boxes of streamers and lights in a pile.
“I'm not the fortune-teller, but I predict he'll return precisely as the final box is unloaded,” Catherine said, a smile playing on her lips.
“Wouldn't have it any other way,” Milly answered, with a grin of her own.
The main tent always went up first, followed by the surrounding exhibitions. Last were the behind-the-scenes living areas. It was strange to be back on solid ground after a week on the rumbling train, but Milly was looking forward to some quiet time. It was ten times easier to measure chemicals precisely when the floor wasn't shaking under her.
“Thank you, Milly.” Ivan the Wonderful, the magician, patted her head as he passed her to collect a box.
By late afternoon, the camp was taking shape, and they'd started on the living quarters tucked at the back. Joe returned after a long hunt (Barrymore had hidden inside a feed bag, demolishing half the peanuts) and helped Milly spread out their tent.
“Here, let me,” Ivan said. He strode over and lifted one of the main poles easily, setting it into the small hole Joe had dug while Milly looped the fabric over the next pole. Once the first was secured in the ground, they lifted the second and third. Joe tacked the ends into the ground as Milly carted in their belongings from the boxcar.
“You can always stay in our tent, you know,” Catherine said, her hand resting on Milly's arm as they crossed paths by the train.
“I know,” Milly answered. Ivan and Catherine were incredibly kind and did everything they could for her and Joe. Every day they asked if the kids needed anything, such as help sewing extra cloth onto Milly's sleeves to make them longer. Sometimes they would bring little gifts, like a bag of cherries they'd bought at a train station along the way. And every night, they slept nearby. At the first stop after their mother died, Milly and Joe had squeezed into Ivan and Catherine's tent, but it was cramped and claustrophobic. Milly couldn't set up experiments without Ivan tripping over them, and Joe's early rising woke Catherine, who was a light sleeper.
“We're okay,” Milly said. “And we know you're right next door if we need anything. Thank you, though.”
“All right, then. Don't hesitate.” Catherine smiled and continued on her way.
When Milly reached the tents, Ivan and Joe were carrying the cots in. Ducking inside, a thrill ran through her. There'd be three this time instead of two—finally, their family would be reunited. Together, they brought in the mattresses and laid them out so that nobody would have to climb over anybody else to get outside.
The delicious smell of stew filled the air. Joe's stomach gurgled loudly.
“Ha!” Ivan laughed. “All right, niños, I think that's a good stopping point.”
Summoned by the aromas of beef and carrots, the troupe filtered into the meal circle. This was the true heart of the circus. Usually Medici would be walking among them, checking on everyone, but Milly didn't see him anywhere. Maybe he was visiting the animals instead. He'd been particularly obsessed with their newest elephant lately. Milly and Joe grabbed bowls and stood in line with Ivan behind Miss Atlantis, the resident mermaid.
“Good clear night, isn't it?” Ivan asked, gazing skyward.
“A bit muggy for me.” Miss Atlantis fanned herself.
“Did you get everything unloaded all right? Need a hand?” Ivan offered.
“Oh, I'm all set, thank you.”
Milly wasn't surprised—Miss Atlantis almost never accepted help, claiming she didn't want to be a bother.
The mermaid twisted her torso, stretching her back muscles. “I'm looking forward to sleeping on steady ground, though. I need to get my sea legs!”
After they dished up, Milly and Joe followed Ivan to where Catherine had saved them all spots, staking out two coveted stools for her and her husband. Sitting cross-legged on a mat next to her was Pramesh, the snake charmer, and his nephew, Arav. Milly was disappointed to see they'd left their snakes in their quarters tonight. She liked studying them... as long as they were far from her mice, that is. Pramesh nodded in greeting, his face wrinkling with a smile. Arav, still shy and reserved even after years with the circus, ducked his head. The kids sat on the ground beside Pramesh, slurping up the delicious stew.
“Puck is a genius. He really is,” Joe declared.
“I think you'd be happy with anyone's cooking,” Milly teased, “as long as you didn't have to lift a ladle.”
“Not true. The week that Rongo was in charge was... um...”
“Yes?” a voice growled from behind them.
Milly and Joe turned to see the strongman looming over them. His dark skin contrasted with his bright yellow shirt, and the sparkle in his eyes glinted in the moonlight.
“Go on, Joe. My week was...?”
“Unconventional?” Joe said. “But maybe it was just too heavy on the pepper for me.”
Rongo chuckled and winked at the kids. “I may or may not have done that on purpose.” Milly suddenly remembered Medici's having gotten terrible indigestion that week. “I wasn't hired on as a cook. I'm just as glad as you that Puck handles it all now. Speaking of, I'm going to grab a second helping.”* * *
After dinner, they all gathered around a warm fire. Milly fiddled with the key on her necklace as she and Joe leaned against Catherine's and Ivan's legs. Under the twinkling stars, the campfire stories began. This was Milly's favorite part of the day. The jobs and chores were done, and everyone relaxed and laughed—even if the nights had become more subdued and the stories more wistful than celebratory. It was still nice to look up at the sky and listen to the rumble of voices, the old tales and worn-out jokes. Puck picked up his concertina and pressed it in and out slowly, the music a sweet underlay to it all. The crowd called for Miss Atlantis to sing, and finally, after much cajoling, she chimed in with her rich, beautiful voice. Milly swayed appreciatively.
“Well, I must go check on Tanak,” Pramesh said once the song was finished, rising in one fluid motion.
Pramesh doted on his python, catching rats for it at every stop. At least he made sure it was always either draped around his shoulders or securely contained. Milly would be crushed if it somehow got to her mice.
“He's asleep,” Pramesh whispered, gesturing toward Joe.
Ivan craned his head to see. “Well, it's been a long day, and you know how he likes to get up early.”
Milly groaned. “Yes, we do. Ivan, do you mind?”
Without a word, he slipped his arms around Joe and lifted him up. Milly went around the circle, saying her good nights before following him back to her tent.
“Buenas noches, little ones,” Ivan said as he tucked Joe's blanket around him. “Sleep well.” He dropped a kiss on Milly's forehead before ducking out into the night.* * *
“Holt will be here soon,” Catherine said as Ivan rejoined her at the fire.
Leaning his shoulder against hers, Ivan nodded. “Let's hope the war hasn't broken his spirit. Those kids need him whole.” They'd both seen plenty of soldiers with haunted eyes attend their shows. Not even the clown act could break through to them.
“Yes, let us hope.”
The fire crackled and bowls clanged as the crew set them in the washbasin. Miss Atlantis nodded good night to everyone as they left, her arms submerged in soapy water. Puck did all the cooking, so she had volunteered for washup. They'd need to use the dishes again in the morning for breakfast.
A circus life was cyclical, that was for sure.
CHAPTER 2
Milly turned to her final patient, stethoscope at the ready. She listened carefully, then pulled the tubes out of her ears with a satisfied nod.
“Breathing normal, heart rate normal. You are cleared to perform!” Smiling, she set the mouse back inside its cage. He squeaked up at her, then tugged at the edge of his red ringmaster suit, almost as though he were adjusting it.
Milly giggled. Timothy was the most outgoing of the mouse trio, which was why he got to be the ringmaster in the “Greatest LITTLE Show on Earth!” His bossiness was also a factor—he was always chattering at his siblings, telling them what to do and where to go. Kids loved the miniature circus. It might not have been the biggest money earner in the Medici show, but Milly was proud of it.
Picking up her notebook, she dutifully recorded Timothy's health states. A scientist (or doctor) needed to keep accurate data.
“Milly!” Joe cried out as he catapulted into their small tent. His sides were heaving.
As soon as she saw his face, she knew.
“Another train!” he announced triumphantly.
Milly leapt to her feet and the two kids flew through the tent flap. In the distance, they could see the smoke from the approaching train, and a long, shrill whistle blasted the morning air.
“Niños!” Ivan shouted as Milly and Joe barreled past the magician and his wife in the middle of rehearsal. “Wait! We're coming, too.”
Ivan hurried to free Catherine from the split box, but the children didn't slow down.
The Joplin train platform was crowded with people in their finest. Several locals drew away from Joe's dirt-stained hands as he pushed through the throng, but others were too focused on the sleek black train that had just pulled in.
Soldiers poured out of the carriages to find their loved ones, tears of joy glistening on everyone's faces. Milly and Joe peered through the crowd as Ivan and Catherine joined them.
Where is he? Milly felt a knot of anxiety in her chest. What if there'd been a mistake?What if he wasn't coming home yet?
A woman in an enormous emerald green hat let out a squeal as a young soldier picked her up and spun her in a circle. As he set her down and stepped back, Milly saw her father, Holt Farrier, emerge beyond them.
“Dad!” Milly and Joe shouted together. They surged forward.
He hadn't shaved in a day or two, but his face was just as handsome as Milly remembered, his back maybe not quite as straight. But he was carrying a bag on his left shoulder, so perhaps it was heavy. Then he suddenly crashed to the ground, the bag sliding away from him.
Milly startled.
Where his left arm should have been was just... air. His uniform sleeve had been pinned up neatly under his shoulder, as though the army couldn't allow sloppiness, not even for a missing limb.
Beside her Joe gasped, pausing just feet away from their father, who appeared to have fainted. As Ivan and Catherine came up behind them, their father stirred.
His beautiful blue eyes blinked open and his gaze slowly focused on them.
He scanned their shocked faces, then mustered an empty smile as he staggered to his feet.
“I meant to tell you—in the letter,” Holt said, nodding toward the space where his arm should've been. His voice was raspy from disuse. “I just didn't know how.” When the kids didn't move, he gestured them closer with his one remaining hand. “C'mere. Hey, it's me.”
“Is the fighting all done? Did we really win?” Joe asked tentatively.
“The country did. A lot of good men didn't.” Holt's eyes grew distant, and then he focused back on his son, a glow of pride lighting his face. “Look at you, growing like a weed. C'mon, you remember me, dontcha?”
This time Joe didn't hesitate. He flung himself at his dad, who tucked him in close and then turned to Milly. Her brown hair was longer, woven into two braids, and she was wearing a jumpsuit he didn't recognize, gray with pink cuffs.
“And you—you're just as pretty as your mom.” Sadness spread over his face. “I'm so sorry that I wasn't here.”
Milly nodded, her fingers moving of their own will to the key she wore around her neck. “So was she,” she said softly.
Her father turned away, his eyes brimming. She moved to his left, fitting herself into the empty space at his side and wrapping her arms
试读结束[说明：试读内容隐藏了图片]