"Hey, you, there!" a shout came from behind.
A little boy of twelve or thirteen years – almost teenager – darted off and ran away. They, no doubt, will chase him – will chase a thief... He had to come off – by all means possible. A pair of quarters – and a saving entrance there... a saving cellar, where he can lie down and hide – to hide until his organism will not demand a share – a share of food and... something that aided him to pass away these painful days of loneliness. His life without a roof over the head, with no parents, almost with nothing – a life all way along with himself and with what he is going to buy for the stolen money. He opened the stolen bag on the move... a wallet... one... two... three coupons... two thousands of roubles! These people were certainly going to purchase something today. What a hellish disappointment – they won't... but he most definitely will!
He turned on a run and almost screamed from a fright. The man was catching up with him – a distance between them was reducing slowly, but steadily. He in his thirteen years was no match for a healthy adult.
Two quarters, just two quarters and he is saved! He sharply jumped into the lateral pass between houses. He has to foul the trail – then he can escape... then he must escape. Forward, all forward! My feet, help me – more than once you have already rescued me in street collisions – aid me just once more!
A fast-fast run along with jumps through the lanes, a single though, constantly swirling in his head – "I will make it..." Yes, I will make it!
A sharp head's turn – a man catching him has come up from around the corner. He didn't deceive him... didn't... a man has probably noticed, where I have turned! He's gonna to catch me now! One hundred meters... ninety... eighty... seventy...
Here it is. His own home. Home... or something that can be called as such with an immense share of doubt. Here's his rescue.
He cannot let this place be discovered – it was necessary to mislead a persecutor. The recent thief ran away from this house into the next lane, a man – just behind him.
Now... upwards by ladders – then we'll move down on a lift. Upwards, upwards! Tramping behind his back...
Just to be in time – just to get to his home unnoticed! At last... last floor... just a portion of more time to come off! The button of a lift, pressed against the stop... opening and closing doors, made of iron. He slipped inside.
Have I made that? Haven't they noticed?
A ground floor. A choking teenager, who has jumped out of a lift – almost child... And running again – a desperate, on the last breath, run. Running for the rescue.
Here it is – his refuge, which has already aided him time and again from a hardship, from misfortunes and hatred of others, – rescued from totally anything, except for himself...
He ran into the house – opened and covered a cellar's door. He has no time to barricade it for now. He has to hide, to show no signs of life! Then he will get a chance to deceive – he most certainly will.
Drops of water, dripping from a ceiling. A smell of something being burned, coming from depths. A teenager, clamped in a corner – almost like a child. Silent-silent breath in own palms – to not be heard. Rescued?
A slowly opening door... streams of light, which have illuminated and shined a figure on a threshold, his sight is directed directly to a teenager...
A smile? Is he smiling? He has finally caught him and is smiling now?! Probably in anticipation of forthcoming punishment...
A quiet voice, filled with internal dignity...
"Well, stop hiding there. To hide from others for all your life – you don't intend to live so, yes? Come on, come here. Stop fearing me, why are you even stronger clamping in this dirty corner, as if it can serve for you as a rescue in this life? I am not going to abuse and beat you... you have been suffering already – more pain is not an option. Come on, stand up. I will even let you take a part of the money that you have stolen. Maybe even all of them – if you are going to spend then reasonably."
He's calling for him to approach. A trap? Probably. Certainly.
But his voice rings somehow too warmly and convincingly. Other men didn't speak that way... yes! – they spoke totally different when they had caught him... And besides... what prevents him from just approaching and taking what has been stolen by force? – and yet he doesn't... still saying something... Will willingly let him keep all money? Oh, sure, I'm gonna to believe you right away! Such things simply never happen.
"Why do you still fear me? I have already promised not to cause you harm. You feel no trust... yes, you are too frightened and too fierce at present to start trusting people... but you will overcome this obstacle, you'll see! All right, if you still do not desire to move... Then I will go down to reach you myself."
He's approaching... going down! No, that's the end! He totally pressed himself into the dark corner...
"What sort of home do you have... And what's that? A glue? Oh my silly little fellow, whether this muck can replace a real healthy life? All right, stand up. It's necessary to hide in this murky corner no more. Stand up, I will aid you."
Strong hands, which have now very accurately raised him up. He lifted own eyes with shyness to see the man and involuntarily admired. Courageous and fearless face... a smile, playing on lips... attentive and... sympathizing... gaze? As though looking into your very soul and seeing each and every you desire, all your dreams...
"Let's go, oh pilferer," the man smiled once more. "We have to move forward, for another path is waiting for you. Very soon you will see that. No, it's not necessary to return me that money, keep it to yourself – for pocket expenses, as they call it. But keep in mind that I will check of how you've spent them.
Where are we traveling? Back to my home – it's so much better than your musty cellar. You will live with me for a while – for, after all, you have always dreamed to have a father, yes? I will be such a one – until your way will call for you.
You have an entire life waiting for you. Let it be a worthy one – you have the power to make your life the way it ought to be, for that's what you have deserved. And I – I'll simply aid you on your way, help you make the first steps... you will travel yourself from there on. I will help you – I desire to help you so that you can behold the life. Life, I tell you, instead of its dark illusion! Take my hand. Follow me."
***
Two slowly traveling figures – a man along with a little boy. Heads of both are raised and sight is directed somewhere highly in the heaves... A brisk cheerful conversation. Laughter and smiles.
Life is just one corner ahead.
28.12.2004
YOU ARE READING
On the Wings of Hope: Prose (Recognized)
General FictionThis book is about a hope and a faith, To help you achieve your spiritual grace, The food for a mind and the joy for a soul, Your wisdom is our reward and a goal. Early works The full selection is available on the website: http://ozornin.pro