Lana was awakened by claps of thunder outside the window, it was still dark outside, and flashes of lightning were momentary illuminating the room, then again plunged it into the morning twilight. She tried to fall asleep again, but the hissing, rustling of the rain was calling the sad thoughts. Why was it not so hard before, but now as if suddenly something broke inside? Cracked and crumbled. She used to run, but as if she always felt his gaze in her back. And now he left first and never turned around. Just went away, leaving her to fight for the last drops of his warmth on her skin. And as soon as it disappeared, the cold began to penetrate her heart.
She shivered and got up, driving away the disturbing thoughts. What's the point now? She used to live no matter what! She used to take care of herself! She just wants to live, without fear, without pain, without sadness. And if for this it is necessary that her soul freezes, atrophies as unnecessary part, then so be it.
Opening the window in the kitchen, she let in the cool thunderous air, full of living energy. She inhaled it with full breast and began her day.
The rain continued to pour, even when she came to work as if aiming to wash everything off thoroughly. Opening the cafe and making two hot drinks with refreshments, she, as usual, went in search of Mr. Blair. Surprisingly, it was not necessary to look for him long. He sat on a bench in a small park, across the road, exposing his wrinkled, bearded face to the raindrops. Lana approached and paused, not knowing what to do next.
At first, she wanted to cover the old man from the rain with her umbrella, but he looked so pleased and peaceful, that she didn't dare to disturb him. She was still idling beside him in doubt, when the old man without opening his eyes, without even turning to her, said in a quiet, confidential whisper:
In spring even the crusts from souls are fading
With bitterness and anger, which are as dark as night,
Today the world as if the skin is shading.
In it vigorously sprouts all that is right,
And all that is worthless remove it at ones!
Lana listened and as if the rain wall around became something different. Without hesitation, she closed her umbrella, sat down next to the old man and exposed her face to the warm water strims, absorbing the velvety voice of the old man and each of his words.
When the old man stopped talking. As if by magic, the rain began to subside. Lana suggested to Mr. Blair to come to the cafe with her, to dry out. But he shook himself like a big shaggy dog and, smiling broadly with his toothless mouth, took the treats and headed away along the alley.
Lana with a smile shook her head and went back to the cafe, still musing in her head over the poetry. Even if the rain stopped, the clouds still did not want to leave. There were almost no visitors today, and Marge let her go early. Bored, Lana decided to go to the store first, then immediately went home to cook something delicious for the children.
When she got to her apartment, it was already about five p.m. There was still an hour before Vicky's school ended. The door opened with the usual creak, in both hands she had bags, so she just slammed it shut with her shoulder. From the little mudroom, Lana immediately went to the kitchen to get rid of her bags and as such completely forgot to lock the door. Before she could unload all the groceries on the kitchen table, a characteristic click sounded from the hallway. Lana froze, not knowing what to do.
"I don't cease to be surprised by your carelessness," a familiar voice said, and Greg's figure filled the entrance to the kitchen. Lana froze stupified with her arms outstretched. She couldn't decide yet whether to relax, because it's not a robber, or not because it's worse than a robber.
Greg, not paying attention to her confusion, entered the kitchen and looked around.
"It's surprisingly cozy here. How about some coffee?" - he said, sitting down on a chair at a small dining table.
" What are you doing here?" - Lana asked, at last, crossing her arms on her chest.
Greg gave her a long once-over and sighed as if surrendering:
"Lana, can we just talk?"
" What for?" - She immediately retorted.
" Cause I'm tired of these games." - in his voice, she heard a plea that very surprised Lana: "What is he up to now?"
"Greg, it's not me who's starting all these games. You can believe it or not, but I didn't want any of our last meetings, and especially didn't initiate it." - Greg winced at the words.
"You mean you never wanted to see me for all these 13 years?" - Greg asked with some kind of childish hurt in his voice.
" No!" - Lana immediately cut off without thinking. And let him decide that this is from indifference or something else. He does not need to know the truth.
"It's so rude of you. I know, We didn't end it on a good note, but it was so many years ago. Can't we just be friends?" - Lana could hardly resist not to take a step back avoiding his gaze.
"You want to be friends? After all this? Like, watch football together, go to the movies? Greg, you know that our past, everything that's happened between us, like a huge white elephant in the room. Even if we ignore it, it won't disappear." - Lana said irritatedly.
"Then let's not ignore him. Let's talk about him." - For some reason, Lana felt as if Greg was trapping her. As if everything around them was hung with red flags, and he, like a master beater, directed her exactly where it was needed.*
"Lana, why did you broke up with me? Why did you leave?" - Greg stood from a chair and crossed the room and stopping just a couple of steps from her.
"Greg, what does it matter now?" - Lana tried to escape. She didn't know where to look, there was nowhere to retreat.
"I want to know," - he said firmly, moving closer. Lana started to hear some strange buzzing in her ears.
"I already told you everything then."
"It was a lie," - Greg said, moving even closer.
"How do you know?" - Lana began to get angry. And the crackling in his ears grew.
"That we are from different worlds? We don't suit each other? That you never loved me? Bullshit !! Tell me the truth!" - Greg growled.
"Greg, it was just a teenage love, nothing more."
"LIE" - he snapped, not allowing her to continue.
"I don't know, okay? I was just scared. Everything was so fast. And then you got to the hospital ..."
"You're lying," - he breathed into her face, coming close, trapping her and raising her face by her chin, to look into the eyes. - "Lana, one year maybe just a moment, but for some, it can be an entire life. You forgot that I know every inch of your body, I counted all of your moles. And I know that you always raise your head to the light when you deep in thoughts, gnaw on the inside of your cheek when you worry and put your hands behind your back when you're lying."
Lana suppressed a sigh of surprise and suddenly realized that all this time she held her hands behind her, clinging to the countertop of the kitchen table. But it was too late to correct this mistake. Greg's lips touched a smile full of triumph.
"Tell me the truth," - he muttered, leaning over and gently placing a kiss just below her right eye.
"Greg, please, leave it be ..."
"Tell me." - He whispered insistently, leaving light like butterfly touches kisses on her face. His lips, like raindrops, removed layer by layer of Lana's protection, took away all the pain and anger that she used to build a wall around her. Her head began to spin, and her knees trembled. She seemed to be drowning, and she did not want to emerge at all.
"Tell me the truth, Lana." - he repeated, staring into her eyes, dazzling her. "Please," he added, almost pleadingly. These quiet words were like the last shot in the silence of the forest. Lana felt tears rolling down her cheeks. He caught each drop, drying them with his lips. And she gave up. This was not the battle that she could win.
______________________________________________
* Here and further is a reference to traditional Wolf Hunt with Flags. The area on which a pack of wolf dwells is surrounded by a string with red flags on it. Wolfs for some reason can't cross it. During the actual hunt, beaters scare of wolves by sharp sounds in the direction of hunters.
Lana was awakened by claps of thunder outside the window, it was still dark outside, and flashes of lightning were momentary illuminating the room, then again plunged it into the morning twilight. She tried to fall asleep again, but the hissing, rustling of the rain was calling the sad thoughts. Why was it not so hard before, but now as if suddenly something broke inside? Cracked and crumbled. She used to run, but as if she always felt his gaze in her back. And now he left first and never turned around. Just went away, leaving her to fight for the last drops of his warmth on her skin. And as soon as it disappeared, the cold began to penetrate her heart.
She shivered and got up, driving away the disturbing thoughts. What's the point now? She used to live no matter what! She used to take care of herself! She just wants to live, without fear, without pain, without sadness. And if for this it is necessary that her soul freezes, atrophies as unnecessary part, then so be it.
Opening the window in the kitchen, she let in the cool thunderous air, full of living energy. She inhaled it with full breast and began her day.
The rain continued to pour, even when she came to work as if aiming to wash everything off thoroughly. Opening the cafe and making two hot drinks with refreshments, she, as usual, went in search of Mr. Blair. Surprisingly, it was not necessary to look for him long. He sat on a bench in a small park, across the road, exposing his wrinkled, bearded face to the raindrops. Lana approached and paused, not knowing what to do next.
At first, she wanted to cover the old man from the rain with her umbrella, but he looked so pleased and peaceful, that she didn't dare to disturb him. She was still idling beside him in doubt, when the old man without opening his eyes, without even turning to her, said in a quiet, confidential whisper:
In spring even the crusts from souls are fading
With bitterness and anger, which are as dark as night,
Today the world as if the skin is shading.
In it vigorously sprouts all that is right,
And all that is worthless remove it at ones!
Lana listened and as if the rain wall around became something different. Without hesitation, she closed her umbrella, sat down next to the old man and exposed her face to the warm water strims, absorbing the velvety voice of the old man and each of his words.
When the old man stopped talking. As if by magic, the rain began to subside. Lana suggested to Mr. Blair to come to the cafe with her, to dry out. But he shook himself like a big shaggy dog and, smiling broadly with his toothless mouth, took the treats and headed away along the alley.
Lana with a smile shook her head and went back to the cafe, still musing in her head over the poetry. Even if the rain stopped, the clouds still did not want to leave. There were almost no visitors today, and Marge let her go early. Bored, Lana decided to go to the store first, then immediately went home to cook something delicious for the children.
When she got to her apartment, it was already about five p.m. There was still an hour before Vicky's school ended. The door opened with the usual creak, in both hands she had bags, so she just slammed it shut with her shoulder. From the little mudroom, Lana immediately went to the kitchen to get rid of her bags and as such completely forgot to lock the door. Before she could unload all the groceries on the kitchen table, a characteristic click sounded from the hallway. Lana froze, not knowing what to do.
"I don't cease to be surprised by your carelessness," a familiar voice said, and Greg's figure filled the entrance to the kitchen. Lana froze stupified with her arms outstretched. She couldn't decide yet whether to relax, because it's not a robber, or not because it's worse than a robber.
Greg, not paying attention to her confusion, entered the kitchen and looked around.
"It's surprisingly cozy here. How about some coffee?" - he said, sitting down on a chair at a small dining table.
" What are you doing here?" - Lana asked, at last, crossing her arms on her chest.
Greg gave her a long once-over and sighed as if surrendering:
"Lana, can we just talk?"
" What for?" - She immediately retorted.
" Cause I'm tired of these games." - in his voice, she heard a plea that very surprised Lana: "What is he up to now?"
"Greg, it's not me who's starting all these games. You can believe it or not, but I didn't want any of our last meetings, and especially didn't initiate it." - Greg winced at the words.
"You mean you never wanted to see me for all these 13 years?" - Greg asked with some kind of childish hurt in his voice.
" No!" - Lana immediately cut off without thinking. And let him decide that this is from indifference or something else. He does not need to know the truth.
"It's so rude of you. I know, We didn't end it on a good note, but it was so many years ago. Can't we just be friends?" - Lana could hardly resist not to take a step back avoiding his gaze.
"You want to be friends? After all this? Like, watch football together, go to the movies? Greg, you know that our past, everything that's happened between us, like a huge white elephant in the room. Even if we ignore it, it won't disappear." - Lana said irritatedly.
"Then let's not ignore him. Let's talk about him." - For some reason, Lana felt as if Greg was trapping her. As if everything around them was hung with red flags, and he, like a master beater, directed her exactly where it was needed.*
"Lana, why did you broke up with me? Why did you leave?" - Greg stood from a chair and crossed the room and stopping just a couple of steps from her.
"Greg, what does it matter now?" - Lana tried to escape. She didn't know where to look, there was nowhere to retreat.
"I want to know," - he said firmly, moving closer. Lana started to hear some strange buzzing in her ears.
"I already told you everything then."
"It was a lie," - Greg said, moving even closer.
"How do you know?" - Lana began to get angry. And the crackling in his ears grew.
"That we are from different worlds? We don't suit each other? That you never loved me? Bullshit !! Tell me the truth!" - Greg growled.
"Greg, it was just a teenage love, nothing more."
"LIE" - he snapped, not allowing her to continue.
"I don't know, okay? I was just scared. Everything was so fast. And then you got to the hospital ..."
"You're lying," - he breathed into her face, coming close, trapping her and raising her face by her chin, to look into the eyes. - "Lana, one year maybe just a moment, but for some, it can be an entire life. You forgot that I know every inch of your body, I counted all of your moles. And I know that you always raise your head to the light when you deep in thoughts, gnaw on the inside of your cheek when you worry and put your hands behind your back when you're lying."
Lana suppressed a sigh of surprise and suddenly realized that all this time she held her hands behind her, clinging to the countertop of the kitchen table. But it was too late to correct this mistake. Greg's lips touched a smile full of triumph.
"Tell me the truth," - he muttered, leaning over and gently placing a kiss just below her right eye.
"Greg, please, leave it be ..."
"Tell me." - He whispered insistently, leaving light like butterfly touches kisses on her face. His lips, like raindrops, removed layer by layer of Lana's protection, took away all the pain and anger that she used to build a wall around her. Her head began to spin, and her knees trembled. She seemed to be drowning, and she did not want to emerge at all.
"Tell me the truth, Lana." - he repeated, staring into her eyes, dazzling her. "Please," he added, almost pleadingly. These quiet words were like the last shot in the silence of the forest. Lana felt tears rolling down her cheeks. He caught each drop, drying them with his lips. And she gave up. This was not the battle that she could win.
______________________________________________
* Here and further is a reference to traditional Wolf Hunt with Flags. The area on which a pack of wolf dwells is surrounded by a string with red flags on it. Wolfs for some reason can't cross it. During the actual hunt, beaters scare of wolves by sharp sounds in the direction of hunters.
