"Hold him!"

"There he is! I can see him!"

Lucky raced with all his might. Someone's front garden flew by. He jumped over a pot of geraniums without looking and deftly slipped between a couple of onlookers who whistled after him. Still, the pursuers were not far behind.

Oh, and how well it all started! He had noticed that little cozy house long ago and managed to sneak into without a hitch. The thing he was looking for was there, all ready for him. And, alas! — on the way back he happened to run into a hostess who’d decided to wake up earlier. Her scream still seemed to ring in Lucky's ears.

The village! They always meddle into their neighbours’ business, Lucky panted to himself.  Many of his friends who were more determined and stout had long moved to the city Solkhan. A nice cozy place yet he, out of some silly sentimentality, was still living here, in the sticks, where you can't even sneeze without half of the city knowing about it!

The narrow street going down to the square suddenly bristled with steps. A fubsy fat woman from the Green House was slowly climbing upstairs, breathing heavily as she was carrying a bucket full of water. They met halfway up the stairs. She gasped and let go of the bucket which almost made him roll over as he was properly doused with icy-cold shower.  A vile curse lashed his ears. The bucket clattered down the steps.

Silly goose!  the thief snorted to himself, spitting water. True they say: if you meet a woman with a bucket in the morning, you'll be in trouble!

Fortunately, the square was a straight shot. Lucky was immediately dazed by the blinding sunlight, deafening chorus of voices and a huge variety of smells. A big man with a basket of apples blocked the road. Lucky darted sideways, trying to avoid him. The porter stumbled, tripped over his feet, and dropped the basket. The apples clattered on the cobblestones. The thief was already scurrying away, weaving between the colorful tents, followed by the laughter of passers-by and the curses of vendors.

The man who was chasing him got stuck somewhere, thank Heavens. Alas, the noisy boys from Sand Street, his old enemies, joined that "catch Lucky" game.  Oh, my… these won’t back off so easily! Lucky thought to himself. He knew that for sure. That wasn’t the first time their paths crossed.

A welcoming fence grew up on the left, so comfortable to climb. The thief strained for a jump, and immediately a stone hit the fence right above his head. The boys knew all his tricks too well.

Lucky ran even faster, so that the signs on the shops which he had once used to learn how to read merged into a complete mess.  Come on, it’s not over yet. The saving street could already be seen between the buildings. Now he will definitely escape! That street was quite short, blocked by an openwork gate leading to a lush garden belonging to a local rich man. He will easily slip through the gate like a knife through butter, and let his pursuers beat their foreheads against the iron gates.

That trick was used by all Lucky’s friends and it always worked. The new hope gave him strength.

 ***

 A couple of hours before that dramatic chase, the old man was sitting on the porch of his house in Solkhan. The neighboring courtyards were still asleep, the rhythmic breathing of the sea could be heard in the morning silence, the blue silhouettes of distant mountains were seen in the depths of the peninsula. The old man sipped his tea, watching the morning sun saunter across the rooftops. A new and wonderful day began.

Since his children and grandchildren had moved away, he was living alone in his empty house, like a pebble in an echoing shell. Still, he had some distant relatives living in a small mountain village. They were all old people too who had already put down roots and abandoned their intentions to conquer the big world. Every summer the old man would visit them up there, pick up his cheese, milk and some groceries. He did this with the pedantry of an elderly man who has a lot of free time and sometimes suffers from a lack of variety in life.

The old man warmed his hands on the mug and gave himself up to thoughts. When he was younger, he also used to help shepherds graze goats and sheep in sunny mountain-ringed valleys. Over the years, those memories had not been erased from his head. On the contrary, they’d become even brighter. He remembered well the heady air of the high meadows, the living, fluffy carpet of sheep's backs. He remembered the tedious, endless milking that had made his fingers ache at first. And God forbid anyone say a word until the milk is drained into a huge cauldron suspended over the fire. This action was supposed to take place in silence. Otherwise, according to the sign, the wolves will attack the flock so that there will be no one to milk. The old man recalled the night shifts in the company of the most experienced shepherds who could talk to spirits. When the mysterious, saffron-scented darkness approached the fire itself, and the haunting slumber was interrupted by the furious barking of dogs. Guess who was there in the dark. A stranger or maybe a wolf?

Stolen story; please report.

Jumbo?  the old man knuckled on the railing of the porch. Hey, Jumbo! Do you remember how you almost got into a fight with a wolf?

There was a grunt and a muffled scuffle under the porch. The old man chuckled. His dog became quite lazy and slept all day, trying to find a cooler place.

Today, as usual, the old man expected to leave before heat, but not too early, so as not to be caught in the fog on the narrow mountain roads. They had to go through Zvezdinka, a small town in the foothills that looked like a flock of white sheep scattered down the slope.

You never know if you'll be stuck there, the old man muttered to himself. Something always happens there! Either you meet an old friend, or you get involved in someone's street squabble... Jumbo! Wake up, lazy. It's time to go.

A huge furry lump finally got out. The dog stretched and shook its head, showing its long pink tongue. The old man, meanwhile, had brought out a donkey that looked about his own age, and rolled out an equally ancient cart. It had once been painted bright blue, but the paint had worn off over the years, and now it was as mottled as a quail's egg. The old man decided to check the wheels and axles especially carefully today, because he had almost got into trouble last time in the mountains. The roads there were more suitable for goats than for humans. But first he would take the mug into the house. He was in no particular hurry anyway.

 ***

 Lucky darted into the alley, skidding around the corner and ... barely had time to slow down. The escape route was blocked.  The entire aisle was occupied by the sleek bulk of Jack, the bulldog from the house across the street. That was really bad luck! Usually the workers watered the garden every evening, but today, apparently because of the heat, they did it in the morning. Jack was lying contentedly on the damp tile, enjoying the coolness and shade of the gate when he heard Lucky. The thief panicked. The boys behind him or Jack’s growling muzzle — which one was better?

For a moment, Lucky felt lost. But a survival instinct helped him snatch a life-saving idea from the clutter of chaotic fragments. If only it worked!

He turned and ran towards the boys. They scattered, not so much from Lucky as from the huge dog that was rushing after him.

 ***

The old cart was moving slowly through the narrow streets of Zvezdinka, creaking at the corners and slowly approaching the square. The old man was humming thoughtfully to himself. Jumbo was sleeping and the donkey’s hooves were clacking steadily on the black-and-white paving stones. The donkey was so used to these weekly trips that it didn't even need the driver's instructions. The old man's body was functioning properly as a driver, but his mind was lost in memories. It suddenly came to him that he could spend a couple of days up in the mountains. Go to the shepherds, spend the night in a wooden hut with sooty walls, near the fireplace. In the evening, when everyone gets together, they could have delicious soup and share a lot of stories. He could even shake things up a little and keep watch at night. They say that there have been more wolves recently. That wasn’t good indeed…

 ***

One of the rules that Lucky had learned during his time in the city was that people's lives were largely governed by a seven-day rhythm. The "Closed" signs on the shops, and the noisy groups of people trying to find a house for rent during summer season — everything had a pattern. And now he prayed that some unfortunate accident would not disturb the usual ritual, since his life literally depended on it. Lucky narrowly dodged a stone thrown by the most agile boy, and bounded back to the square, trying to recall the right road.

One leap, then another, a turn, and there it was, the familiar creaking cart, smelling of cheese and dog. An old man was dozing off with a stick in his hand. Lucky plopped straight into the wagon, landing on a shaggy bundle that smelled like a dog.  Jumbo jumped in surprise and tumbled out onto the road, coming nose to nose with the bulldog…

Both dogs froze still, bared their teeth and the boys immediately forgot about Lucky, finding something more interesting to entertain with. When the old man woke up, he realized that his shaggy dog was too busy with his "small talk". With a sigh, he pulled the cart into the shade of an old sycamore tree and prepared for a long wait. That allowed Lucky jump out of the cart, climb up the drainpipe and in a minute he was already in the coveted world of roofs, chimneys and attics of Zvezdinka, where he was right at home.

***

A large red cat leaped softly to the roof of the barn, a chicken leg in his teeth. He carefully placed his breakfast on a piece of shingle heated by the sun and began to eat. From time to time the cat moved its ragged ear, listening warily, but all was still. When he was sated, Lucky washed his face thoroughly and stretched in the sun. The city noise could be heard from below, and in the distance the petals of sails were white on the blue palm of the sea. All is well that ends well, Lucky thought and purred.