And then, just over six months later, the sunny April days turned gray. I remembered the long honking of the cars as the funeral procession walked past my fathers work. He was forty-nine years old. There was no more joy; I couldnt feel it in anything.
So here I was, trying to forget myself, to let this pain go. I tried to run away from myself. But is that possible?
Chapter 3: The Walk
Now, with the sound of the waves so pleasantly caressing something in my soul, in this wilderness, very far from civilization, the feeling of the unreality of everything around me did not leave me. I wanted to take a walk around the neighborhood.
White clouds beautifully covered the volcano hill in the distance. I decided to take a little walk. I walked to the edge of the bluffy shore. The dark waves were lapping at each other, and the white foam that framed their edges, like an elegant lace tied on a bobbin, looked beautiful against the dark water. I will never tire of admiring such a view. Orange shards of crab shells dotted the rocky shore. My path lay along the murmuring sea to my left.
I took a little to the right, deeper into the island. The desolate landscape was occasionally enlivened by the occasional tree. The road went steadily upward. Volcano Bogdan Khmelnitsky, which previously looked quite distant, was getting closer. The outlines of trees began to blur around me, my head ached and I had shortness of breath. I didnt like my idea anymore. It was probably time to go back, it was getting dark very fast, I was not used to such a rapid change of day and night. Gradually, there were more and more tall trees. Soon pines and spruces surrounded me on all sides, I was in the forest.
I walked and walked, did not notice the darkness, I was tired, I had to have a rest, I sat under a tree for a while, I decided to continue my way, and here I hit a snag, where to go, in what direction? I do not remember where I came from, all trees around seemed the same, only after looking closely in the darkness, in the half-darkness I could hardly distinguish birches, alders, pines and spruces.
The darkness was getting thicker. It was no fun at all. I decided to stay where I was, where would I go in the dark? And an unpleasant sensation of cold seized all my body, the skin on my hands and feet was covered with small pimples. I was tired, and my eyes were closed, as if the weight of the world had suddenly fallen on me.
In front of me was a huge, thick tree with old bark and stubby branches, like the tentacles of an octopus. I couldnt see very well in the dark, but it looked like an oak with a big hollow. Why would there be an oak tree here? They dont grow here. Perhaps in the darkness and from fatigue I am already imagining, but the hollow in the tree for sure there is, in it could fit not only a beast, even a man of not very large size. I need to wait out the night, so I cautiously crawl into the hollow. It is cramped, it smells of old rotten bark and old leaves, and my nose tickles from the dust that rose when I stepped on the leaves at the bottom of the hollow. I could even sit with my legs tucked up, which I did. What a headache it was, because not so long ago everything had been fine.
A terrible thunderstorm broke out in the night. The roar of thunder rumbled right over my head, and the lightning, cutting the sky apart, illuminated everything around me. At certain moments it became as bright as daylight. I hadnt been afraid of thunder before, but I couldnt remember a thunderstorm this strong, and I had never seen the sky split in two by a line of fire, white in the flash that illuminated everything around it. The fact that I was not at home behind safe walls, but in the woods, and in the hollow of a tree where lightning could strike at any moment, a primal sticky fear crept into my soul, creeping in a little at first, but as the storm intensified, it got stronger and stronger to the bones. As the thunder began to subside and the peals of thunder moved to the side, I fell asleep unnoticed. I guess the fatigue of the day had taken its toll.
I woke up to the sound of voices nearby. My head hurt a lot, and it didnt go away during the night. Someone was cursing. I stroked my hand lightly where the pain was, the right side of my forehead was unbearably painful, as if the sounds were coming through the absorbent cotton, rubbed the place where the pain was very strong, twisted my head, and listened.
One voice sounded stronger and more resonant, the other more muffled and threatening.
Dont you dare come near our lands, the voice called loudly.
To come does not mean to enter, the man said with a sneer.
Youre snooping around, sniffing out whats going on, the first man shouted.
You forbid me, dear Ty! replied the one with the deeper voice.
Glen, you rascal! The loud-voiced one concluded.
The voices grew fainter and fainter until they were silent. They were gone. I peered cautiously out of my hiding place.
The grass at the foot of the tree was a little weathered, but still damp. There were ferns growing all around, other grasses, and some lingonberry bushes and blueberries. The smell of the forest was very strong in the humid air after a thunderstorm. On a blue flower sat a butterfly, a beautiful delicate pink coloring with a purple hue. It folded its wings and slightly wiggled its tendrils. Somewhere in the distance water was murmuring softly. The butterfly spread its wings and flew toward the sun.
I cautiously climbed out of the hollow and stretched with pleasure, inhaling deeply, and looked at the tree that served as my shelter. The leaves are oak. Still, where does an oak tree come from?
I hadnt heard the sound of water yesterday. It came from the right. I did not pay attention out of tiredness. I went to the sound, soon saw a stream, washed my face with cold water, and rinsed my mouth, which instantly made my teeth cramp.
I had to go back somehow. I used the sun to identify the sides of the world and headed southeast, I wasnt sure exactly, but it felt like the right direction.
I had been walking for half an hour when I ran my hand over my neck and found that my pendant was missing, the latch on the chain must have broken, and the pendant had fallen off. Tears came to my eyes. My father had given me that pendant years ago. I always wore it, and here it was a reminder of home, of my mother and Maksimka and Mukhtar.
I went back, searched around the oak tree, looked in the hollow. I couldnt find anything.
And then I saw a white dog staring at me. I looked closer. It was a wolf. The hair on my head began to rise, and my consciousness from horror almost left my frail body. Now the cute little wolf was going to eat me, and no one would even know it. I loved animals, of course, but I didnt want to become someone elses dinner.
What to do, how to be? I grabbed hold of a tree branch and pulled myself up as hard as I could, pushing myself up against the trunk with my legs, somehow climbing onto the branch, and it was good that it was thick, so it would hold. What if I fell?
The two of them appeared suddenly. The branch didnt crunch, and I didnt hear any other sounds. The wolf disappeared silently among the trees in the forest, as if it had evaporated, and in front of me there were two guys, from who knows where, dressed as hunters. But they were strange hunters. They had no guns, but they had bows, and arrows on their backs. Maybe theyre in some kind of role-playing game.
Belle, can you tell me where the reading room is? The short guy asked in a low voice, smiling all over his mouth. I jumped down from the tree. The taller one frowned. What didnt he like? I didnt touch them, so they could go on their way.