My name is Emma, I am 60 years old, long retired, living out my life. For 10 years I have been living on my own, no husband, no children, no girlfriends. My children have their own affairs, families in other cities, my husband is dead, I have only my dacha left – it’s a pleasure and an entertainment. As soon as it gets a little warmer, I move here, clean the house and the lot, and then plant the garden, make flowerbeds. I feel good and relaxed here.
But in winter I just can’t be here, it’s hard with snow, I can’t shovel it. There is no one to help, so I have to move to the city. In the fall, the leaves are all right, I manage. This year in September, I got a little cold, stayed in town for a week, but as soon as the cold gave up, immediately rushed into my beloved village.
I came up to my house, but the gate was wide open. Really, I think, someone got into the garden. Everything is in place, but here I look, and on the door of the bracket from the lock is dangling … I was afraid, whether the whole house was cleaned, and why they were attracted to the dacha lonely pensioner! I went in quietly. But at home everything was in its place, except for a blanket on the bed, and I did not even use it, in the closet on the bottom shelf, and on the table mug … Well, I certainly always clean up the dishes! Something’s not right here.
The first fright passed, and in its place came discontent. Who mastered here and by what right, and from my mug something was drinking… I looked out of a window, and behind the house a strange boy was sitting, he put out some wood, lit a fire, and was probably warming himself, put his little hands straight to the fire. There he is, my uninvited guest, doing the housewifely…
I come out of the house and cough, watching the reaction. The “hooligan” woke up, looked frightened, but did not run away, on the contrary, came straight to me:
– Forgive me, I’m the one who’s been here for a while…
Quiet and humble, small, pity stirred in my soul at once:
– How long have you been here? What did you eat?
– Only for two days… I didn’t have much food… I wanted some bread, I still had a crumb…
The boy proudly held out a rod with a slice of white bread strung on it. It was smoky and a bit burnt around the edges.
– What’s your name, kid? And how did you end up here?
– Noah me. My mother and stepfather chased me out of the house. I don’t want to live with them, so I left…
– I bet the whole village is looking for you. Your mother’s got everyone in a tizzy.
– They’re not looking for you, it’s the same as usual, and it’s not the first time I left. I didn’t show my face for weeks, but nobody cared, they didn’t even notice. I only came back when I was really hungry and they weren’t happy to see me…
It turned out that the kid wasn’t from our village at all. The usual banal but sad scenario. His mother was unemployed, his stepfathers changed like gloves, the food in the house was rare, all the more booze and drunks.
After such a story, my heart felt sadness, and how to help him, his age is already quite old, and I cannot legally register the boy with me. Of course, I left the boy in the house and fed him, but I spent the whole night thinking. And in the morning I remembered an old acquaintance, I think she had some kind of position in the administration, and decided to call, if not help, then at least tell me where to go.
My friend assured me that they could help in my situation, promised that she would take control. Of course I had to walk around, collect various papers, but in a couple of weeks, I became a legal guardian. He couldn’t believe his luck, but his mother, by the way, never even bothered to talk about her son.
So now we live like a grandson and grandmother, in the apartment in winter and at the dacha the rest of the time. Soon Noah will be going to school, and I am sure he will do great in school, because he is already writing, reading, counting, and even drawing! And how he draws! A real artist…
