Fall in love in a weekwe get by. Edgars Auziņš
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– Do you still have a loved one in your reality? – Miss Norwood asked softly. No, Sabella.
“He left me,” I put the cup down and leaned back in my chair. – And he didn’t even leave for someone else. Just one fine morning he told me that I was unbearable and he got a job in Sydney. Away from me. God, there, at home, I even left a ticket to Sydney. I didn’t intend to chase him, but I really wanted to see, just see… the city for which I was exchanged. It became some kind of obsession. And now I’m here, and all my plans are in vain… and what are my plans now?
– Sometimes a miracle or tragedy needs to happen for us to look at things differently. “Sabella seemed to be talking about me, but it was as if she was talking about herself too.” – Do you still love him?
– Don't know. I would say no, but… It hurts to remember. It's annoying. It's a shame. Our psychologists say that such feelings cannot be caused by someone to whom you are indifferent.
– Wounded pride, disappointment and broken dreams also cannot be called indifference. But you can’t call it love either. Well, at least for now we at least have hope. You don't look like a person who is in a hurry to give up his life.
“Tell me about Dougal,” I asked. Now the name came easier. “I asked Charlotte, but she doesn’t know him at all.” Only the light, not the person. At the pulpit he… – I hesitated, searching for words: what mother would like it if they directly said “cracker” about her son? – Very closed. It's all about work. It seemed to me that he was incredibly irritated by any distractions. Even a simple question if he would like some coffee.
“Rather, he’s annoyed by people who like to “light up the stars,” Miss Norwood smiled. – And Panacea Academy. Everything, from the roof to the dungeons. He is there not of his own free will, but because of me. But that's not what we're talking about now. Let’s go,” she stood up and beckoned me to follow her. – It’s difficult for me to judge him unbiasedly, you must understand, he is my son. So let's agree, I show, and you ask, whatever comes to mind.
"Unwillingly?" It happens that for a week they convince you that some topic may be interesting, but you dodge it by hook or by crook – and then suddenly you smell the smell of sensation in a short phrase that seems to be irrelevant, or even about nothing at all. This is exactly what has happened now. In the words of Sabella Norwood, and if you look at it, in the tone of her voice, the lowered eyelashes, the almost imperceptible shadow that came across her face, there was something much more hidden than she was ready to say out loud. Well, that’s really not what we’re talking about now. I'll try to find out later… if this is at all important in our situation.
In the meantime, we obviously came to the nursery. Funny wallpaper with a Teddy bear and Winnie the Pooh, a funny lamp in the form of a ghost floating under the ceiling – fortunately, not at all like Charlotte, but rather like Casper. Small table and bookshelf. I ran my fingers along the spines and tilted my head, reading the titles. Textbooks, a children's encyclopedia, colorfully published educational books for children – “The History of Alchemy”, “From Amoeba to Pithecanthropus”, something else that is little clear to me – about magic…
– Now Dougal rarely spends the night with me, and occupies another room. But he likes to sit here, thinking about the next difficult problem. He says this nostalgic atmosphere inspires him.
– Book child? – I asked.
– Oh, what are you talking about! Since childhood, he believed that all the most useful and interesting things are stored in the head, and not on paper. Some kind of inexplicable hostility to letters. I hardly even read textbooks, I said why, if there is a teacher who has speaking skills? The compulsory program was too easy for him – he was bored, and since he was bored, that meant he was trying to find something more interesting to do. In just six months of elementary school, I seem to have mastered all the healing spells that can be used on children. And she could create a portal to the principal’s office or to the school infirmary without thinking for a second.
I smiled involuntarily.
– And what activities did he consider interesting?
“For example, find out what will happen if you apply an eternal growth spell with a speed component to the royal turnips, and cast an endless doubling spell on the humates in the compost, so that the poor growing organism has enough food. Or how fast the regeneration of mandrake roots will be when cemetery soil is added to the nutrient mixture. Turnips broke through the roof of the school greenhouse and covered the entire school stadium, along with the players and spectator stands, with leaves, and three magicians from the environmental control department had to tear it out of the ground at once. Fortunately, the “poor growing organism” did not have time to produce seeds. Although ecologists convinced me that the seeds would have retained the original characteristics of the plant, but… they didn’t know my son!
I laughed out loud. I would never have believed that the stern Dr. Norwood, with his “pick up your hair”, “close the doors” and “don’t loom” could destroy the school greenhouse with an experiment (you can immediately see the future genius!) and in general, it seems, was a headache for the teachers and the director. “Poor growing organism”, that’s what you should call a banal root vegetable! Although… it’s far from banal!
– And the mandrake? I hope she didn't kill anyone?
– The experiment ended before it began. Dougal was caught in the cemetery. According to the caretaker, the boy was trying to raise a zombie. He himself claimed that this was not a ritual circle, but just a platform for disinfecting the land, because he did not want to introduce pests into the greenhouse! But Dougal was expelled in disgrace and forbidden to poke his nose into the cemetery territory. One way or another, he had no luck with the cemetery land.
Sabella stopped short, and I unexpectedly took her hand.
– Let's hope that the ban is still in force and he won't be unlucky again.
– Yes. Hope! – She, as if waking up, shook her head and gently squeezed my fingers. – I can show you photographs. Want to?
– Certainly! I like to look at photographs – by the way, the honest truth, especially if the pictures were taken unexpectedly, and not in a studio for retouching. – They can be very… honest, perhaps.
There were no photo albums in this world. We came into a small room, where opposite the already familiar screen wall and the “rubber” platform in front of it stood a cozy sofa and a small table. Probably to drink tea in front of the TV without descending into arguments with the announcer. A short smooth gesture and the screen lit up.
“Dougal,” Sabella said briefly. And she asked when a scattering of tiny pictures appeared on the screen. – Is it very difficult for you, Sally? In our world? If not for this monstrous ritual, would you have become interested or at least gotten used to it? After all, for a person who has never mastered magic, everything here probably looks very strange,” she nodded at the screen. – Portals, spells, tea and puddings out of nowhere?
“It’s hard to find yourself… out of your mind,” I joked sadly. – Lose everything you're used to. Work… my favorite job, yes. It’s probably really for the best that the person you love suddenly wasn’t there. ? here – here it’s interesting.
– ? your parents? – Sabella asked carefully, as if she was afraid to touch on a sore subject.
– Seven years ago. Car accident.
“I’m