The Door

The parsing of the appearance has not yet been able to determine what he has inherited from other relatives, but at three years old you can still wait on that.

More importantly, our youngest of the heroes was already showing that appearance would clearly not be the main achievement in his formed personality – the boy was already charismatic. One day he almost organized an escape from his kindergarten, and the whole group was ready to follow him.

All in all, grandparents can safely go on saying that he will break more than one girl’s heart, and they will probably be right.

Except that Mark himself doesn’t like it when people say that. He, to be honest, wouldn’t like to break anything. If he was punished for a broken salad bowl, which turned out to be a bad option for trying to ride it down the corridor, what are the consequences of a broken heart then?

Well, what else? Unlike many other boys his age, Mark did not earn his authority among his classmates by force. He had always been a soft and vulnerable child, which made Agatha sigh heavily and longingly. But time after time she reminded herself that stamina and the ability to stand up for oneself and stand one’s ground were skills that people are not born with, they take time to develop.

As for Mark’s own desires, becoming seasoned and hardened was not one of his priorities. He did, however, prioritize dinosaurs, cartoons and banana pudding, which was also very good.

CHAPTER 4: Jürgen and somewhere around

Jürgen rambled softly as it was warming up. Outside, a snowstorm was howling with its snowiness. It was still chilly, but the heater was already filling the insides of the car with life-saving warmth. At the wheel sat a huge man in an enormous winter jacket – how the pair of them fit into the seat will forever remain a mystery.

He was beginning to feel a little hot, so he decided to take off at least the jacket. He did not want to go outside, which meant that he had to display the kind of flexibility that such a huge human body should not be able to do in confined spaces, to the envy of all the snake-women from Cirque Du Soleil.10

Actually, Thur didn’t know if Cirque Du Soleil had any snake-women, but if not, it was clearly an oversight on their part. It didn’t change the point: the man’s body size was too much for taking his jacket off with no assistance, it’s not as mundane as it is for most people. There was only one saving grace: he was the only one in the car, and this time there should have been no casualties.

However, once the jacket was defeated, this loneliness began to weigh on him and seemed to be rather exacerbating. Twenty minutes ago, they should have been already on the road – if nothing changes soon, they can safely wrap it up and not go anywhere at all.

This is where any reasonable reader should be prepared to insert their five cents – why not call? Why not text? Who is better off if the trip ends up being cancelled? And a reasonable reader might be absolutely right, but not this time.

Well, please, let’s live together friendlily.

The bearded man leaned back and closed his eyes, trying to prepare himself for any outcome. He was not very good at it – the blood was throbbing in his temples, and he could not breathe calmly at all.

The big metal front door of their house opened and let two people out into the world. They were immediately swept away by a blizzard, a gust of icy wind with razor-sharp little icicles. The larger figure rushed confidently towards the car, towing the smaller one behind it.

The little person was stubborn and refused to move his legs. Thankfully, the snow had been cleared away and had not yet managed to cover the ice, so instead of ramming the thick layer of icy white powder with his whole body, one could see a comical pair skating element which was not at all in tune with the general mood.

The car door opened, the blizzard didn’t miss its chance and hundreds of thousands of little shurikens11 of ice slammed into Artur’s unprotected neck. However, the pain of the cold could not overcome the disturbing disappointment that came over the man at the sight of the expression on his wife’s face.

The conflict was not resolved. The miserable hope that the storm had passed had quit of its own accord. The trip promised to be no fun.

While Agatha buckled her frowning son into the child seat and unbuttoned his jacket, Arthur ran his fingers nervously over the rough surface of the steering wheel.

This has never happened before. Today, the unstoppable force ran into an unbreakable obstacle. The scythe found a rock. The wave came upon… also upon a rock.

Like flashbacks from the battlefield, this morning came back to Arthur. Picture after picture began to appear in his mind.

Here was still a good morning. The pancakes for breakfast were delicious, the kettle whistled cosily on the cooker, the plaid lay softly on my shoulders and my slippers hugged my feet gently.

Now it’s time for breakfast for the rest of the household.

Here the cups are already set out, plump crispy rounds have been placed on plates and I need to walk towards the rooms to call everyone in.

No, as it turned out, there was no need to go. I should have stayed where I was and should’ve sat on a chair in the embrace of a plaid and in the company of a friendly mug of coffee.

On the way to the door, something was amiss. My wife’s voice was ringing with metal, and Mark was making a mooing sound, about to turn into a roar.

Never mind that our son is not a morning person, that’s nothing new. More than once in the morning, when he has to go to an extra-curricular activity or to a kindergarten, he wakes up determined to fight for his soft bed and a warm blanket to the end.

It’s all right, after about fifteen minutes of washing up, the world will change dramatically in his eyes. Everything will be nice and calm again.

Why couldn’t things get nice and calm this time?

Can teenage rebellion begin at three years of age?

This time, after washing up, Mark wasn’t distracted by the birds outside the window or impressed by the delicious pancakes. A small scowl and eyes full of resentment continued to follow Agatha until she turned her back to him, reaching the cupboard to get some herbs for her tea.

It was at that moment that everything changed. One! And the cup on the table was in the little boy’s hands. Two! And there it goes on the floor. Three! And it’s gone.

No, it didn’t shatter dramatically. Little hands couldn’t give it enough acceleration to make it break into small pieces, hitting the linoleum. But it cracked and a small part of it even bounced so that it disappeared somewhere under the fridge. The damage was done.

Agatha buckled up. Arthur buckled up. The ride began.

It seemed that nothing could be worse than the oppressive atmosphere that now prevailed in Jürgen. Thur briefly took his eyes off the road and slid them to the mirror. Agatha was looking out the window with a furrowed brow. Mark in his turn was staring in the opposite window with his red, puffy after weeping, eyes.

Arthur almost let out a heavy sigh, but stopped himself halfway through. He wanted to be breathing as inconspicuously as possible.

Just don’t be too late.

In fact, punctuality was only a cover for Arthur’s real, sincere motive. This trip had to be over as soon as possible.

As luck would have it, every traffic light turned red12 as soon as Jürgen approached it.

But they were not going to be late for class anyway. Thur drove up to the entrance and by this time Agatha had already unbuckled, zipped up and started to unbuckle and zip up Mark.

During all these manipulations, Agatha cast a questioning glance at Arthur, who was still sitting motionless.

– You guys go ahead, I have to run an errand. I’ll be done by the end of class.

Agatha didn’t seem happy about this sudden mystery errand. It meant there was a risk of being stuck here longer than she would have liked. But what could she do? Not persecuting a man for having to do things for sure. She nodded and opened the car door, getting a handful of bracing fine snow in her face.

After a few more seconds of fumbling, the two figures rushed to the entrance of the building, above which hung a sign that looked really bright against the white of the rest of the world.

Arthur exhaled.

Being alone in the car was once again a pleasant feeling.

*_*

– Stomp your feet to knock the snow off.

The phrase came out too harsh. The tone did not match the content at all, but there was nothing Agatha could do about it.

– Change of clothes now.

The next phrase was said only when mother and son, reddened by the cold wind, made their way to the changing room.

Mark only let out a sullen «uh-huh» in reply. Once he was in full readiness to go to class, he headed right towards the door to the hall without a word.

– Go.

Agatha said it in his back, but as if he went because she told him to, not because he was out of control.

Automatically, the young woman began to gather and roll up her son’s clothes, and meanwhile tears began to gather in her eyes unabashedly.

No, you can’t. There are too many people around, you don’t want to spoil children’s mood before class. And I don’t want to draw too much attention either.

There were indeed still a few kids in the locker room, mostly with their mothers. Some13 had even just arrived, at the risk of being late for the warm-up.

Agatha packed her clothes and shoes into bags and went out into the hall. Fortunately, no one was here now, and this saved the girl from being torn from inside by her tears.

She fell on the seat, her head fell on her hand, and then the tears from her eyes fell into her palm. But most importantly, her heart. It had held on all the way here, and now it too had fallen. It had even rather fallen out and rolled somewhere under the radiator.

He did it out of spite. On purpose.

Agatha gave herself a full thirty seconds of weakness. Then she inhaled, exhaled, inhaled again. Fingers pressed her eyes to stop the salty flow, wiped surroundings.

Just in time – the locker room door opened and someone’s mother headed to the exit.

He knew this cup was my favourite. My cup. He deliberately wanted to hurt me. He could have reached for any cup, but he broke mine.

As soon as the front door began to close, the tears made another foray. This time Agatha could no longer afford this, so she carefully began to regain her breath again.

Well, he wanted to hurt me, and he did. Everybody does. Sooner or later. To one person or another.

Inhale. Exhale.14 Inhale.

There are no people who have never encountered the cruelty in themselves. Only people who lie outrageously to others and to themselves can convince you otherwise. The question is what we do about it.

Even many adults do not know how to manage their anger. It has to be taught. Again, the question is how to teach it properly.

Breathe out. Breathe in. In. In. In.

We’re quite lucky, in fact. Lucky it was a cup.

My favourite bloody cup!

A nasty lump of irrational resentment stirred in the back of her throat again and began to creep up.

But a cup nonetheless. Could have been someone’s head in the kindergarten. Could have been a stray puppy. Could have been a wounded pigeon.

Inhaaaaaale.

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Примечания

1

Now you’ve also read a fake footnote. Huh! 2—0, I win again.

2

A silly song from some old TV show, from Clio’s childhood.

3

Here and further are references to the world built by Tolkien, author of The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit and The Silmarillion.

4

This game may have variations in the end result of the search; varies according to the region and the age of the players.

5

We are talking about Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s novel of the same name and its film adaptations.

6

Dear pirates, please don’t steal this book!

7

The concept of networking is based on the so-called six-handshake theory.

8

A great ancient military leader, founder and first great Khan of the Mongol Empire, who united the disparate Mongol and Turkic tribes. His proper name was Temuchzhin.

9

A reference to how Russian principalities were forced to pay tribute to the Mongol Empire for a long time.

10

A world-famous Canadian circus troupe.

11

Japanese concealed-carry throwing weapons, «throwing stars».

12

The region of colours in the long-wavelength part of the visible spectrum, corresponds to the minimum frequencies of electromagnetic radiation perceived by the human eye.

13

Unbeknownst to anyone, anyone.

14

One separate pushing of air out of the lungs when breathing.