Загадочная история Бенджамина Баттона / The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

Several small boys were brought to see him, and he spent all afternoon trying to work up an interest in tops and marbles—he even managed, quite accidentally, to break a kitchen window with a stone from a sling shot, which secretly delighted his father.

Thereafter Benjamin decided to break something every day, but he did these things only because they were expected of him, and because he was by nature obliging. When his grandfather’s initial antagonism wore off, Benjamin and that gentleman took enormous pleasure in one another’s company.

They would sit for hours, these two, so different in age and experience, and, like old friends, discuss with tireless monotony the slow events of the day. Benjamin felt more at ease in his grandfather’s presence than in his parents’—they seemed always somewhat afraid of him and, despite their dictatorial authority, frequently addressed him as “Mr.”

He was as puzzled as anyone else at the advanced age of his mind and body at birth. He read up on it in the medical journal, but found that no such case had been previously recorded.

When he was five, he was sent to kindergarten, where he was taught the art of pasting green paper on orange paper, of weaving coloured maps and manufacturing eternal cardboard necklaces. He often fell asleep in the middle of these tasks, a habit, which both irritated and frightened his young teacher. To his relief she complained to his parents, and he was removed from the school. The Roger Buttons told their friends that they felt he was too young.

By the time he was twelve years old his parents had grown used to him. Moreover, they no longer felt that he was different from any other child—except when some curious anomaly reminded them of the fact. But one day a few weeks after his twelfth birthday, looking in the mirror, Benjamin made, or thought he made, an astonishing discovery. Did his eyes deceive him, or had his hair turned from white to iron-gray under its dye? Was the network of wrinkles on his face fade? Was his skin healthier and firmer? He could not tell.

He knew that his physical condition had improved since the early days of his life.

“Can it be—?” he thought to himself, or, rather, scarcely dared to think.

He went to his father. “I am grown,” he announced. “I want to put on long trousers.”

His father hesitated. “Well,” he said finally, “I don’t know. Fourteen is the age for putting on long trousers—and you are only twelve.