“Have you ever found yourself in desperate situations?”
“Repeatedly. But I never give up.”
(from Rina's interview to the portal “World Of Strong Women”)
The ground vibrated under his feet, a dull rumble burst out along with the fire that blazed from the crevice. Rina screamed in horror and barely managed to jump aside, because a terrible roar followed the rumble. A crack ran across the ground in a rapid zigzag and buried itself in the bottom step of the porch. For a split second, Rina thought that her house would collapse into a rift. But everything stopped as suddenly as it started. The flames had gone out, but there was still a slight smell of smoke in the air. At first it was quiet, and then a quiet knock came from under the ground. Someone knocked three times and after a short pause repeated the simple rhythm. Rina, frightened and at the same time intrigued by what was happening, cautiously approached the crevice and held her breath. The crack was wide, but not so wide that a person could fall through it. Rina carefully squatted down to get a better look at the one who was giving out strange call signs. At the same moment, a hand with crooked fingers shot up from the ground. Rina recoiled in horror and woke up.
The dream turned out to be so vivid and realistic that it took her a while to recover. Her heart was pounding, and her T-shirt stuck uncomfortably to my sweaty back. Rina wiped the sweat from her forehead with a trembling hand, and at that moment she heard the knock again. It turns out that they knocked in reality, not in a dream. She carefully swung her legs off the bed, straightened her wet T-shirt and tiptoed into the hallway.
“Is there anyone?” a clear girlish voice rang out from the street.
Rina opened the door and saw a freckled teenage girl on the porch. The stranger had already raised her hand to knock again, so when she found herself nose to nose with the hostess of the house, she recoiled in fright. But then she smiled shyly and said loudly:
“Hello!”
“Hello,” Rina politely replied, continuing to examine the little girl.
It was difficult to determine the age of that one because of her too tall, but still unformed figure. The girl's thinness was rather caused by rapid growth: the waist of the calico dress was higher – on the ribs, and the hem barely reached the middle of the thigh. The girl slouched, embarrassed by the height of the model, and wrapped herself in a wide old woman's jacket. The stranger had rubber boots on her feet, dew drops still glistened on the blue noses, and she was holding a basket in her hands.
“My grandma sent me to you,” the guest said, slouching even more. Apparently, Rina's look confused her. “This is for you. For Stas.”
“For whom?”
“For Stas,” the little girl repeated more boldly and handed Rina a basket. “You gave him tea. He was afraid of a thunderstorm, and you didn't drive him away. Grandma gave you a present. The eggs are fresh, from our chickens! Collected in the morning.”
“So why…” muttered Rina, confused and surprised at the same time.
Was it possible to kick the old man out in the rain? And is special gratitude required for such an insignificant act?
“You will only return the basket later,” the girl asked. “Grandma said to me like that. Put it on the porch, and I'll take it.”
Considering that she had fulfilled her mission, the guest turned around, but Rina stopped her:
“Wait! What's your name?”
“Liza,” the girl looked over her shoulder.
“And I'm Vita,” Rina introduced herself with the old name. “Do you want some tea? I have candy and delicious cookies. And I'll give you the basket. Why put it on the porch?”
Liza hesitated, and then, resolutely pushing her thick linen-colored braid behind her back, nodded. Rina escorted her guest to the kitchen, turned on the kettle and took a towel from the basket. Liza's grandmother handed over fresh chicken eggs, a bunch of dried mushrooms, a jar of berry jam, fresh herbs, radishes and cucumbers with dew drops on the pimpled sides. And also some kind of paper sheet folded several times.
“All our own,” Liza answered with pride. “We also collected berries and mushrooms.”
“Thank you!” Rina thanked her from the bottom of her heart and put the kettle on.
While waiting for tea, Liza sat on a chair, straightening her back tensely, and curiously watched the hostess. The girl was clearly struggling with shyness and the desire to ask questions at the same time. Rina pretended not to notice the curious glances of the guest, although she understood that questions could not be avoided. And Liza was already fidgeting impatiently on the spot, and when a cup of tea appeared in front of her, she couldn't stand it:
“Have you come here recently? Is this house yours now?”
“Mine,”Rina replied, pouring tea for herself.
“No one has lived in it for a long time. The owner wanted to sell it to the cottagers. That's what he said. But who would come so far from the city here?”
“I am,” Rina smiled, deciding to play along with the guest. “I dreamed of such a house, where you can go for the whole summer.”
“What about work? And…” Liza broke off, afraid that she had already allowed herself unnecessary questions.
‘I can work from home. And I don't have a husband and children. Now. And when there are children, I will bring them here. It's so nice here!”
“Good,” Liza replied, but frowningly, as if only in unison with the words of the hostess of the house, but contrary to her own thoughts. “And I, on the contrary, want to go to the city. It's boring here! And there are no prospects! My mom has been working in the city for a long time. She sends money and sometimes comes for holidays. And I live with my grandma. But we have a deal!”
Liza raised her head, and her eyes shone.
“When I finish the eleventh grade, I will go to the city to enroll! However, we have only two universities. But there is no money for the capital. And in the city, my mother will be nearby, and she will be able to arrange a job for me. Here are the plans!”
“Good plans,” Rina approved with a smile and, imperceptibly pushing a bowl of cookies to Liza, turned the conversation to the topic of interest to her: “So this grandfather's name is Stas?”
“Yes. He's grandma's younger brother. A little bit of that, peek-a-boo. Everyone knows that. But he is kind, so no one offends him. Grandma says Stas wasn't always like that. Once, when he was still young, he went with other guys to the quarry to swim. And there was a wire in the water. Stas was shocked. It could have killed him, but he survived. Just became like this. Grandma has taken care of him all his life. She was already married when it happened, she took Stas to her, but because of this she began to swear a lot with her husband, my granddad. Grandfather left her, went to the city. And grandma stayed with my mom and Stas. She is very kind, only strict and often angry.”
Liza brought a cookie to her mouth, but didn’t take a bite, and froze, thinking about something and looking out the window.
“And how did Stas tell you that he was with me? He hardly speaks,” Rina became interested.
“He draws!” Liza perked up. “He's got talent! Stas also made a drawing for you. Only he forbade me to watch it.”
Rina looked back at the gifts. So the folded piece of paper is a drawing from a grateful old man.
“He dreamed of going to the capital and studying to be an artist,” Liza continued the story. “But this happened. And Stas draws anyway. Yesterday he went for a walk with Blob, and then a storm. We were very worried, we went to look for him in a thunderstorm, called him, but Stas didn’t respond. Grandmother scolded him a little when he came, because she was worried, and then asked where he was. Stas hears everything, but he can't tell. And when Grandma asked, he drew a tree and a house. Then we realized that he was hiding from the rain at the summer cottage.”
“At the cottager's?” Rina smiled.
Hide, don't hide, and her presence was quickly noticed.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“Yeah, at you.”
Liza frowned slightly, thinking about something of her own again, and then said bitterly:
“The wind broke a lot of trees yesterday. And our young apple tree too. A neighbor's roof was torn off. And you seem to have been struck by lightning in a tree. It split the earth.”
Rina almost protested that it had happened even earlier, but she bit her tongue in time. Liza finished her tea, nodded to her thoughts and got up from the table with a cup in her hand.
“Where can I wash a cup?”
“I'll wash it myself.”
“No. My grandmom taught me to always wash the dishes for myself,” Liza said with touching seriousness.
Rina, hiding a smile, nodded towards the sink.
“Well, I'll go! Otherwise grandma will worry. Can I pick up the basket?”
“Yes, of course!” Rina jumped up. She opened the closet, took out an unopened chocolate bar and a package of salted crackers and put it all in the basket.
“Oh, but why…”
“My grandmother taught me that empty baskets are not returned,” Rina said with a sly smile and handed the basket to Liza. “Thanks for the treat! And... come along with Stas and Blob.”
“Absolutely!” The girl was delighted.
When Liza left, Rina put the goodies in the refrigerator and unfolded the sheet. But as soon as she looked at the drawing, she immediately threw it away, as if she saw a poisonous spider. Stas portrayed a man in a business suit. The man looked thoughtfully out of the window. He had one hand in his pants pocket, the other was leaning on the windowsill. Rina remembered well that Dimitri froze at the window while thinking about solving some problems. Could someone take a picture of him at such a moment, and then print the picture in a magazine? Rina took a breath to recover, and decided that this version is not so far from the truth. And Stas just copied the photo…
Only that he or someone from his family bought such magazines, Rina doubted. As she doubted the randomness of such a gift - a pencil portrait of her ex-fiance.
The morning was like diluted blueberry jam: in the impenetrable darkness, the purple spots of the coming dawn finally loomed. Looking ahead at the road illuminated by headlights, Yura thought that if he had decided to write a book, he would have started it with such a romantic phrase about blueberry morning. And then he would generously splash scarlet, nullifying the romance, because he would be working on a chilling detective story.
Yura yawned and immediately started, afraid that he had lost control for a second. And it's not even that he hasn't driven since he sold his car, he just had to borrow this ‘rattler’ from a friend for the trip. And now Yura was seriously afraid that the ancient Volkswagen would lose its insides on potholes. A friend was transporting a summer harvest on this ‘dinosaur’ and, holding out the keys, honestly warned that the car risked not being able to withstand a long journey. In the heat of excitement, Yura didn’t attach importance to his friend's words, but soon realized the seriousness of the situation. The Volkswagen was smoking, wheezing and rattling, and the threat of getting stuck on the highway was becoming more real. Yura would have asked his sister for a car, and Manya, after grumbling and quarreling, would have given him her brand-new ‘girl’. But his sister was supposed to take Pencil to class today and was going to get detective contacts from a new acquaintance. Or even find out something about Rina.
Yura left at night to meet for the day. But he planned the trip based on a normal high-speed car and did not take into account the poor condition of the roads. Therefore, he got to the place much later than he was going to.
He got out of the ‘rattler’, jumped on the spot, warming up after a tiring road, then hung a camera around his neck, a small backpack behind his back and set off along the asphalt path, through the crevices of which the grass made its way to the gate visible in the distance. With each step Yura's smile became wider and wider, and his heart accelerated in a rapid rhythm. When the gate with the half-torn sign was a few steps away, he took the first pictures, and then recorded a welcome video on his phone. Yesterday he had thought out a speech and made up a route.
Yura liked the idea of his own channel with sensational news more and more. With the experience and shrewdness of a journalist, he could easily create an interesting information resource, conduct independent investigations and become a media personality, and not remain Vasilev Y. O. in a small-circulation magazine. The kick from the boss turned into a magic sign, which directed Yura in the right direction. Stop interviewing long-dead celebrities! He is capable of more! There were always enough hot materials. He will find Rina, and he will make excellent material about all sorts of anomalies!
Yura entered the gate and, shooting a video, headed down the central alley deep into the park.
Time flew by imperceptibly. It seemed that only now the morning was blooming with a purple dawn, and now the sun had risen to the zenith. Yura filmed a ‘daisy’ carousel frozen forever, took a selfie against the background of one of the booths, and then covered the camera and sat down on the edge of the wooden platform. Break. A bundle of sandwiches and a thermos of coffee appeared from the backpack. Yura inhaled the aroma rising from the mug-lid and squeezed his eyes shut with pleasure. He hadn't felt so happy in a long time. And now it seemed strange that he took his dismissal so painfully. But right now new horizons are opening up in front of him!
Yura ate two sandwiches with cheese and sausage, leaving the third one for later, and drank almost all of the coffee. Then he put the thermos and leftovers in his backpack with a bottle of water and an apple, got to his feet and only then noticed that the weather had changed. The day faded, the sky turned gray. It became cooler. Yura cursed vexedly: the rain threatened to bring down his plans, but he had specially checked the weather forecast! Well, he'll have to hurry. Yura threw his backpack behind his back and noticed the first oddity: there was not a cloud in the sky, which was gray, as before the rain. The sun was still hanging at the zenith, only for some reason it seemed dark. Yura shivered from the cold, which, as if alive, crawled under his pants and up his back to the back of his head, and saw another unnatural thing: trees, grass, broken rides and ticket booths had lost their original color. The world seemed to have lost its bright colors, leaving only a palette from almost white to gray-black.
“What is this ‘fifty shades’?” Yura gasped in amazement and uncovered the camera with trembling hands.
“Do you see it, do you see it?!” he shouted, moving the camera to get as many objects as possible into the lens. “Everything has become black and white! Like in an old movie! This is an abnormal zone where strange things happen!”
Belatedly, Yura thought that there would definitely be skeptics who would decide that filters were applied to the video, but consoled himself with the fact that even devastating comments would warm up the discussion.
The excitement overshadowed the initial fright, and Yura excitedly snapped the camera, not even caring about the choice of angle. This place is really difficult! He doesn't even have to invent something and look for ‘urban legends’. He was already figuring out who to write to, which experts to attract to the future blog.
Yura took countless photos and stopped near Ferris wheel to drink water. Perhaps he already has enough material, and he can leave the park, and spend the remaining time on a trip to a former military camp. Yura put the half-filled bottle of water in his backpack and pulled out his mobile phone to find out the time, and at the same time check if anyone had called him.
There were no missed calls, as well as unread messages, but most likely because there was no network.
“An abnormal place. As there is an anomaly!” Yura muttered and hastily made a note so as not to forget to mention this in the article.
With a sense of accomplishment, he strode down the path to the exit, but involuntarily looked back at the creaking sound behind him. The unoiled mechanisms clanked, groaned, waking up from a long sleep, and Yura was amazed to see how the Ferris wheel trembled. From the push, the booths swayed, as if from a strong wind. The wheel stood up abruptly, rattling its insides, and then with a new jerk it began to move.
“Wow!” Yura drawled in amazement and barely restrained himself from a mad impulse to jump into one of the booths. Instead, he grabbed the camera again and chattered excitedly: “The Ferris has self-started! Nobody turned it on!”
Fascinated by the shooting, Yura didn’t immediately pay attention to the fact that it became very cold. The words came out of his mouth along with clouds of steam, and the fingers clutching the camera were numb. But the excitement warmed him. He had never had such gorgeous material before! Yura lowered the camera only when the wheel made a full circle, smiled happily and breathed on his palms, trying to warm them up. He has already mentally compiled a whole ‘series’ of articles-posts. If something like this can be filmed in a military camp, it will be an undoubted success!
The Ferris wheel stopped, but the cabins still swayed, and for a moment black and white silhouettes flashed in them. At the same moment Yura felt someone's presence, looked around sharply, but saw no one. However, the feeling that someone is standing behind you and blowing cold into the back of your head remains. Yura nervously ran his hand through his hair.
“I have to leave,” he said aloud to break the sudden silence in which not even the rustle of leaves could be heard, and hurriedly walked down the alley, barely restraining himself from breaking into a run.
The feeling that he was being watched grew stronger with every step, so Yura kept looking around nervously. And when the carousel-daisy mechanism creaked nearby, he could not restrain his cry. There was no trace of the old excitement and crazy courage. On the contrary, the idea of venturing alone into an abandoned amusement park no longer seemed reasonable. He saw unseen glances everywhere. The paths seemed to be entwined in a tangle, otherwise how to explain the fact that Yura could not find a way out, and now and then ran past the same attractions? He pulled out his phone and made sure that Network was still not being caught, and cursed when the track brought him back to the destroyed circuit:
“What the hell?..”
Did it seem to him that one of the shabby cars suddenly flashes its headlights rapaciously? Holding the camera beating on his chest with his hand, Yura broke into a run, but he rushed no longer along the paths that treacherously led to the same places, but across unkempt lawns and flower beds, jumping over broken benches, fittings and other obstacles.
He still ran out to the central gate, through which he entered a few hours ago. But it turned out to be closed, and no matter how Yura leaned on it, it didn’t give in. It seemed to be firmly rooted in the ground, depriving him of a chance for salvation. The clanking of machinery, someone's laughter and snatches of music rolled in waves from the depths of the park. The dead park came to life with a terrible ghostly life, taking a hapless researcher hostage.
Yura darted along the fence, trying to find a loophole. Despite the intense cold, he was sweating, sweat flooded his eyes, and Yura nervously wiped it off with a trembling hand. He's not alone here. Someone started these dead rides, turned on the music and locked the gates. Terror gave him agility and strength, and Yura jumped up, grabbed the fence bars, pulled himself up and stood on the parapet. A little more, and he will be able to jump over a high fence. Yura tried not to think that jumping from such a height was risky. The main thing is to get out! He pulled himself up again, but at the moment when he was about to throw his leg over the fence, someone grabbed him firmly by the ankle and pulled hard. Having lost his balance, Yura fell back into the park with a fist, firmly hitting his head on the ground.