Extra Credit

　　艾比不是不會做回家作業，她只是不想做，但這表示她的六年級成績將會非常難看。直到一張通知單寄回家裡，艾比才了解自己真的可能會重讀六年級。除非她願意被留級，否則她必須完成一個特別的作業：交一個國外的筆友。這還不算太難啦，對一個真的很討厭寫作業的學生來說。

　　艾比的第一封信被送到了阿富汗的一個小學校，雅米拉成了她名義上的筆友，因為實際上和艾比通信的是她的哥哥薩迪德。

　　在美國與阿富汗間來往的信件中，艾比和薩迪德發現了這種互動方式可以穿越空間的屏障，他們認識了彼此的文化隔閡以及生活傳統的差異。不過，這段隨著信件日漸增長的友誼，還是引起某些人的反感。跨界的友情果然並非這麼單純啊！

　　It isn’t that Abby Carson can’t do her schoolwork. She just doesn’t like doing it. And consequently, Abby will have to repeat sixth grade—unless she meets some specific conditions, including taking on an extra credit project: find a pen pal in a distant country. But when Abby’s first letter arrives at a small school in Afghanistan, complications arise. The elders agree that any letters going back to America must be written well, but the only qualified English-speaking student is a boy. And in this village, it’s not proper for a boy to correspond with a girl. So, Sadeed’s sister will dictate and sign the letters for him. But what about the villagers who believe that girls should not be anywhere near a school? And what about those who believe that any contact with Americans is...unhealthy?

　　As letters flow back and forth—between the prairies of Illinois and the mountains of central Asia, across cultural and religious divides, through the minefields of different lifestyles and traditions—a small group of children begin to speak and listen to each other. And in just a few short weeks, they make important discoveries about their communities, about their world, and most of all, about themselves.

　　★本書中譯版《我的阿富汗筆友：安德魯．克萊門斯9》由遠流出版。

作者簡介

安德魯．克萊門斯(Andrew Clements)

　　美國備受歡迎與敬重的暢銷作家，著作超過五十本。克萊門斯為兒童創作圖畫書，也為青少年寫小說。他最著名的作品是也是他的第一本小說《我們叫它粉靈豆─Frindle》，一出版即暢銷，長踞《紐約時報》暢銷書排行榜，在美國已銷售超過兩百萬冊，獲獎數十次，並售出十餘國版權。

　　克萊門斯從中學時代即開始寫詩，他曾有一首詩被英文老師評為：「太有趣了，這可以出版！」，開啟了他後來的作家之路。他還曾擔任過中學教師、為歌手創作歌曲，也曾在出版社擔任主編工作。目前是專職作家，住在美國麻薩諸塞州。

　　Andrew Clements is the author of the enormously popular Frindle. Over ten million of his books have sold to date and he has been nominated for a multitude of state awards and has won two Christopher Awards and an Edgar Award. His popular works include Extra Credit, Lost and Found, No Talking, Room One, Lunch Money and more.  He is also the author of the Benjamin Pratt & the Keepers of the School series. Mr. Clements taught in the public schools near Chicago for seven years before moving East to begin a career in publishing and writing. He lives with his wife in central Massachusetts and has four grown children.  His website is andrewclements.com.

Chapter 1

In the Hills Above Kabul

Sadeed knew he wasnt supposed to be listening to the men talking in the next room. He also knew he wasnt supposed to be peeking through the crack near the bottom of the old wooden door. But they had to be talking about him in there -- why else would his teacher have invited him to the home of the headman of the village?

His teacher, Mahmood Jafari, had not told him much. ＂Please come to Akbar Khans house this afternoon at four. He and his councillors meet today, and I have to speak with them. And I may need you to be there.＂

Sadeed thought perhaps his teacher was going to recommend him for a special honor. That wasnt hard to imagine, not at all. Perhaps the village elders would award him a scholarship to one of the finest new schools in Kabul. He would wear blue trousers and a clean white shirt to classes every day, and he would have his own computer, and he would take his place as one of the future leaders of Afghanistan. His father and mother would be very proud of him. It would be a great opportunity. And Sadeed was certain he richly deserved it.

Through the crack in the door, Sadeed could see all seven men, sitting on cushions around a low table, sipping tea. An electric bulb hung overhead, and two wires ran across the ceiling to the gasoline generator outside. Mahmood was talking to Akbar Khan, but the teachers back was toward the door, and Sadeed couldnt hear what he was saying.

When the teacher finished, someone Sadeed knew -- Hassan Jaji -- began to speak. Hassan stopped by his fathers shop in the village bazaar at least once a week, and he sometimes stayed awhile, telling stories about his time as a freedom fighter during the war with the Soviet Union. One day he had shown Sadeed where a Russian grenade had blown two fingers off his right hand. And as the man spoke now, that was the hand he used to stroke his chin.

＂I am only a simple man,＂ Hassan said, ＂and I would never try to stop progress. But our traditions protect us. And they protect our children. And I believe that the schoolteacher has asked us to allow something that would not be proper.＂

The eyes of the men turned back to Mahmood. The teacher looked around the circle and cleared his throat, speaking more forcefully now so that Sadeed could hear every word he said. ＂What Hassan says about our traditions is certainly true.＂

He paused, and Sadeed saw him hold up a bright green envelope with three stamps on it, each one a small picture of an American flag. The front of the envelope was decorated with two pink butterfly stickers.

The teacher said, ＂But it is also a tradition that we are a courteous people. And therefore one student from our village school must answer this letter from the girl in America. And I believe it would be most courteous if our very best student writes back, the one student who is most skillful with the English language. And that one student is Sadeed Bayat.＂

A pang of disappointment cut through Sadeed. His name had just been spoken in the ears of the most important men in this part of Panjshir Province, and why? To be recommended for a great honor? No. To write a letter. To a girl.

Hassan stroked his chin again. He shook his head. ＂That letter is from an American girl. And should a boy and a girl be sharing their thoughts this way? No. Let one of the girls write back. A girl would be more proper.＂

And outside the door, Sadeed nodded and whispered, ＂Exactly!＂

The teacher spoke up again. ＂To be sure, what Hassan says would be best. But the letter that goes back to America will represent our village, even our nation. And should we accept less than the very best writing, the best spelling and grammar? I know Sadeed Bayat -- you may know him too, the son of Zakir the wheat merchant. He is a good boy. And his excellent writing will represent us well. His words will speak well of all the children of Afghanistan. And I feel sure that no harm will come of this. I feel sure that -- ＂

Akbar Khan held up a hand, and Mahmood went silent.