* * *

The impact flattened the wafer cup and tore it sideways. It's rolled across the grass. All white - with grey and green marks on the ground, and even with two busy ants perched on the rift. It's can't be eaten at all. Unless it's under the label where the dirt certainly can't get in. So, having picked a bigger piece with the label, I threw the rest in the direction of the tigers. They, incidentally, reacted to my visit only with fed glances. The biggest dark-colored tiger, like a t-shirt after a rusty radiator, was appreciative of my gift, so it graciously approached the gift, pressed its nose to it, and sat down between its front paws. Another lover of the cool ice cream was chased away with a disgruntled growl - so, realizing that he would certainly not get anything, he strode towards me, clearly aiming at the contents of the label.

"Shoo," I waved at him, shooing the tailed one away.

He was unimpressed, though (which worked even with Laika's friends!), and growled as if he had swallowed a bus. He was also whipping his tail at his side and muzzling his muzzle again, which I barely brushed off by hitting his cheeky ear.

Then the tiger was acting very strangely - he staggered sideways with both paws and began shaking his muzzle, wiggling unsteadily, until he sat down on his hind legs, still twisting his head, sticking out his tongue and breathing heavily. What was the matter with him, I wondered?

After looking around at the tiger, he shifted his gaze to his left hand and tsked in annoyance. The arm was still covered by the gift. I was sorry for a second because I was breaking the wall, and there was a living thing, almost like a cat. I decided to apologize and offered him some ice cream - I'd had enough anyway - but the tiger crawled back frightened and meowed miserably.

Not wanting ice cream is a sign of serious head injury, so I chased the beast not to feed it but to mark it (with a sticker) and inform the doctor (otherwise, how else would he figure it out, they're all the same). In general, I have caught up, pinned a label on his forehead, and with a happy look, went to the fence - to get out of the park and look for a doctor. There was no way to get back - the bare wall was three meters high. Unless I could stand on top of a tiger. But they were afraid to come near me, especially after I had chased their friend.

I glanced at the people on the other side of the fence and almost stumbled. A swarm of hungry, expectant, and disappointed stares, the measured hum of voices that didn't wait for the entertainment. That was the way the boys in the older group looked at me, waiting for me to pick up the spokes in the socket, and after I did pick them up and nothing happened to me. They wanted me to feel bad. They wanted to witness someone else's misfortune. The adults did not look like monsters at all - the bright, pretty outfits, the cheerful coloring of the fabrics, the wide panamas and sandals - but I knew from Uncle Seryozha's experience that monsters lived inside them.

I wanted to get back to the tigers - at least they didn't want to hurt me - but I just straightened up and quickened my pace.

Two bars were separating the tiger habitat from the park. One is smaller to keep the tigers from escaping, and the other is larger to keep people away from the tigers, but if you stand on the first one, it's easy to climb over to the second one - from my side, of course. Which I did, landing next to the excited crowd, right next to the guy poking me with the eye of a box - similar to the one the purple kid had, only plastic.

"Awesome, just awesome! I've recorded everything!" he muttered, examining the box admiringly from his side.

"Hm..." After a second, I looked at the screen.

It showed the tarmac and my feet again. It's a weird thing.

"Here, tap here," the man said as he turned the phone (which turned out to be a black one) towards me.

"Oh," I was impressed as I watched the brave hero (me) chase after the patient. "I'll grow up to be a doctor," I shared my self-satisfaction and grabbed the phone in my hands.

"Kid... you watch - and give it back," the man said nervously.

"I'll keep it as a memento," I twirled the phone in my hands and gave out a phrase created by irritation and anger at these people.

"Give it back now. I'll call the police!" He raised his voice, drawing the attention of the crowd, who were already looking more curiously at me than at the tigers.

"All right, call for help," I retorted. "Let's ask the police why you were quietly filming a child being near tigers and didn't even think to call for help!" Towards the end, I raised my voice too, speaking in a level voice straight into the eyes of the man. "None of you!"

I could see, from the corner of my eye, that a few pairs had left the area in front of the tigers, and the others were also suddenly losing interest in the striped carnivores, gradually withdrawing further away. They were in no hurry to help either.

"But... we thought you were working here..." he glanced back, expecting encouragement, but people were somehow averting their gaze, pretending they'd just arrived and had nothing to do with it at all.

"At nine years old? Call the police!" I raised my voice.

"Hold on, boy! You don't have to call anyone!" The man was fidgeting in his pockets. "Here's for the ice cream!" He handed me a brightly colored note with the number twenty on it and slowly moved his other hand to take his phone back.

Forty ice creams, hmmm... I listened to myself and found there was forgiveness for those silly adults. And also a mild curiosity with a desire to check one phrase I had heard from the violets - they say it for something, don't they?

"Do you know who my father is?" I even raised my chin to make it sound more weighty.

"Here, another twenty roubles!"

Squinting my eyes slightly, I continued to stand and stare - in fact, at that moment, I imagined placing eighty ice creams in my pockets and T-shirt, but the man understood quite differently: "Here are ten more."

Hm, training! I tilted my head slightly and stared at the bridge of the nose of the man in front of me.

"Five more. Twenty more. How about I give you a hundred, and you give me the rest back, huh?"

The bids continued to rise, reaching three hundred ice creams, and I would have stopped by now - but it's interesting, isn't it?

"Look, let me talk to your father and I will explain everything." The man wiped his face with his panama with a trembling hand and took the phone with his other hand. "What's his number?"

Too much, the thought flashed in frustration.

Actually, I had three numbers in my memory, but can't give him the hospital and doctor's numbers.

The man dialed the number and defiantly pressed the icon labeled "Speakerphone".

"The complex of the Sovereign's Fountains," came a hoarse voice from the loudspeaker. "Attention, the communication line is unprotected! Transfer to Hermes Satellite Group, and wait for a callback!"

The owner of the phone was at this point trying to hit the reject button, blundering each time, and when a chiming tune sounded after five seconds, he pulled out the back panel, pulling a silver rectangle from the box, after which all sound was abruptly cut off.

"Here, here. You liked it, didn't you?" he shoved parts of the phone into my hands. "I do! Just don't say anything to Daddy, please!"

"Okay," I shrugged in surprise.

"Thank you, you're a good boy. You're clever. Here's another hundred. I gotta run. I got a lot to do, bye!"

And he took off somewhere in the direction of the exit.

"He's weird," I said, looking at the pieces of the phone in front of me. "He must have broken it, so he gave it away."

The other one would have thrown it away, but I pocketed it carefully. I have glue in my room - I'll fix it.

Despite the present, the mood was still unhappy, especially after the lady at the stall refused to sell the six hundred ice creams. And five hundred. And an entire ice cream stall. She was not the only one who shook her head in a negative way when she showed me a piece of paper with the number one hundred on it. Probably because the picture on it was not as pretty as on the others, and instead of a bridge and a river it showed a sad greenish face. So they do not change it. And I understand them - even Mishka from eighth "A" draws better. I'll have to ask him to redraw the five-ruble picture, which they gladly exchanged for three chocolate ice creams with nuts. Very tasty!

Also, no one knew where the tiger doctor was, so I had to go look for it myself.

I met another violet on the way, chatted with him without any mood, and moved on, rubbing my knuckles on my finger. They all seemed strange with their questions, but at least this one was more interesting than the others.

I wandered around the park asking for a doctor until I was shown to a small building with a cross near the entrance, but no one there either agreed to treat the tiger.

I should have at least put some green on it, I thought guiltily. But it's not too late!

I checked the vial of green in its proper place. Cheering up, I galloped back. However, I lost my way a little, and instead of tigers, I came across a familiar cube with fireflies, so I decided to linger for a second.

"Beautiful, isn't it? Glowing, aren't they?" There was an unfamiliar voice behind me.

I turned around and saw the same corn seller, only now he was not sitting behind the counter of his stall but standing two paces behind me. All tanned, with a dark mustache and bushy eyebrows, wearing a dirty grey T-shirt and a white apron over it. He was trying to smile, stretching his lips over his yellow metal teeth.

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"Yeah," I agreed. Beautiful indeed.

"And how did you make them bright, eh? Hop, and they're shining! It's beautiful. Well done! I told Anzor, and he didn't believe me: there's no such thing, he said."

"I have to go," I said apologetically, "to treat the tigers."

"How to treat, why to treat?" the man wondered.

"With green. There are no tiger doctors," I sighed.

"Wow, Anzor is the best tiger doctor! Didn't I tell you?"

"Really?" I looked at him incredulously.

"I bid my tooth," he tapped his nail on the iron tooth. "Come and tell Anzor what happened to the tiger!"

"I'll cure it myself."

"What if the tiger gets sick and dies, eh? You're not a doctor! Anzor is a doctor! Anzor has to be asked! You don't want the tiger to die, do you?" The man was fumbling with words, gibbering.

"No," I shook my head quickly, "I don't want to."

"Then let's go!" he waved a hand, looking around anxiously.

It's suspicious. But what if it's definitely a doctor? I have to go.

My escort - he called himself Uncle Abdullah - led me to the tall scarlet tents at the very edge of the zoo. He kept turning around to make sure I kept up, and every three steps, he promised me that all the tigers of the world would soon be cured. Although, I should treat just one. I had no confidence in him, but I could not refuse him either because I felt guilty.

The Scarlet Domes were surrounded by a low fence with a beautiful arch, like the entrance, but smaller. But that was not where we were going, as it turned out. We go to the other side of the fence, where there was another entrance in the form of a small door, fastened to the rest of the fence with wire from the inside. It did not prevent Abdullah from running his long arms through the bars and deftly releasing the two loops from the wire.

"Anzor is over there," he beckoned, pointing to a large red stall between two tall tents.

"I just remembered. I've marked the tiger with a sticker!" I said, somehow reluctant to go any further.

There were no people inside the fence, nor were the usual sounds of crowds coming from the tall tents. All the noise, the rustling of voices, came from the park, but here it was as if everything had died out. It was creepy. And I was hungry - my intuition wasn't happy, either.

"You'll tell Anzor about the sticker," Abdullah answered adamantly and led me forward by the shoulders.

I was about to struggle, but the man simply lifted me in his arms and carried me on.

"Do you want the tiger dead?" he shamed me, taking me into the semi-darkness of the tent.

After a bright sunny day, I had to blink to get used to the barely lit space without a single window, with a single lamp hanging from a wire above. It smelled strongly of beast and straw.

Gradually two rows of roughly-wooden shelves on either side of the entrance emerged from the gloom - they stretched along the entire wall of the tent and went up to the ceiling, littered with large and small bags, belongings, tools, and boxes of all sizes. On the right were several large - half my size - bottles of water and a small table on which was another bottle, but already upside down, resting against a dirty white plastic box with taps. Next to it on the table were several iron glasses. To the left on the ground was a rectangle of linoleum with a neatly arranged pair of handsome boots on it. The owner of the pair himself - probably Uncle Anzor - was sitting on a stool in the far corner of the tent, next to a tall square box covered with netting, and was looking warily in our direction. He looked like a sibling of my escort, except without the white apron.

There was a sharp whirr behind me as Abdullah closed the door behind me, lacing the fabric door to the tent wall. I think I've come here for nothing.

In the meantime, the man had deftly dropped his fancy shoes and pulled out a pair from the bottom shelf that was a bit dirty and old, as if he was afraid they would stain his dress shoes. I looked down at the floor - the usual dirt in some places turned to mud with straw on top. I would not step in that with my sneakers! So I stayed near the exit, figuring out how I was going to get out.

"I said don't come," Anzor greeted his friend in an unfriendly manner and did not even get up, let alone offer a handshake.

"It's the doctor, isn't it?" I asked from my place.

"Don't interrupt your elders!" Abdullah muttered without turning around.

"I closed the door, did you see?" kept muttering the doctor. "My answer is no."

"Brother, you don't want to. Go away, do you?" tensely pronounced my attendant, hovering over the speaker. "Abdullah will do as he always does. Abdullah alone is bad. All the others are good."

"You will destroy us all," he replied without looking up.

"Brother, we are already dead!" Abdullah put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "Samsur will come - what will we pay? Sergei will come - what to pay with? Supervision, cop, and rent will come - how will we pay?"

"We will earn."

"On what?" With pain in his voice, Abdullah asked. "Who needs your donkey? Who needs your camel and bear? Look outside the fence. They have a panther, a hippo, and a giraffe! How many people have come to you today? You're silent?!"

"No one knew it would be like this. There was nothing here last month," his brother answered deafly.

"And now there is!" slapped himself on the leg, Abdullah getting angry again. "What are you going to feed the beasts with? Tell me."

"We will sell."

"What?!"

"Bears," he nodded at the crate at his feet.

"I'll buy!" I raised my voice from the top shelf.

It's comfortable, you don't get your feet dirty, and you can see everything. For instance, there were two little bears in the same box. If they were big, I would never have bought them. But I can certainly feed the little ones!

"Get down now!" Abdullah was indignant.

"Will you sell the bears?"

"If you get down, I'll give you a present!" He shouted in displeasure.

"Great!" I enthused, stashing back a hundred with the old man and two hundred roubles. Economy!

Once again I moved over to the entrance - also because there was no climbing door at the top, and the door on the other side of the tent was also laced. Reconnaissance!

"How much will they give you for them?" Abdullah went on to convince his brother of something.

He remained silent, slouching.

"You feed the animals. What do we have to live on? Petrol to get out of this bloody town?" Abdullah continued wearily.

"If anyone finds out, we'll all be hanged. All of us: you, me, your Rose, my Shanita; do you understand?" Anzor looked up at him.

"No one will know!" his brother argued passionately. "He is an orphan. I saw their bus. They left already. They lost him. No cameras, no witnesses, believe me, right?"

Oh, our people have gone already! A worry flickered in my chest. I would have to make my way to the boarding school. But first, we must leave without forgetting my bears.

I wasn't scared, only very hurt - for the tiger, not for myself. There was no doctor here, just two villains plotting to kidnap me. Uncle Kolya had spoken of them more than once, but he had not told me they could be the corn seller.

While the two brothers were convincing each other, I gently and softly dropped one of the water tanks on its side and unscrewed the lid. The water slowly poured across the floor, spreading in a long, shallow puddle to the center of the room. I estimated the speed and opened two more bottles. Now the stream was moving forward much more steadily. Quickly I took off my clothes, put his shoes on top of the table, and stepped forward in just my underwear - straight into the cold water - just as the layer of water covered the spot where the brothers were sitting. Or rather, they were not sitting now but were staring at me in silence, sullen and confident. And Abdullah also had a gun in his hand, like the one in the pictures or the movies, only with a white circle.

"Won't it kill him?" Anzor said tensely.

The man, without a word, flipped open the top of the box next to him, pointed his gun in that direction, and fired twice - softly, as if someone coughed.

"See, the dose is small," Abdulah said calmly to his brother, ignoring me, "not even falling asleep at once."

"My bears!" I roared, very angry.

The gun turned towards me and sneezed once more, jabbing painfully into my shoulder.

I looked to my left - a feathery arrow with two green stripes was sticking out of its skin. I touched it with my hands and pulled it slowly away from me. After a second, I stammered out a drop of blood on the point, fighting desperately against the urge to close my eyes or fall to the ground, submitting myself to the swaying world in my eyes.

"Why are you undressed?" Abdullah wondered.

At this time, Anzor stepped from foot to foot and noted indignantly the splash of water beneath his feet.

"Who did you bring? He's sane, isn't he? Why did you spill the water?!"

"I was just very, very curious," I said from my suddenly dry throat.

"Curious about what?" Anzor snorted irritably, moving closer with his brother.

"Like water conducts electricity," I admitted honestly, letting my Curiosity go free.

A bright flash dazzled my eyes, turning the clear world into red-purple blurs. There was a sharp screech in my ears, the hiss of boiling water that turned to steam, a dense, boiling cloud that swallowed up the entire space. My bears roared pitifully, forcing me to recall my power. At the very center of the cloud, two figures froze, unimaginably curved by the power that had passed through them. With their clothes burnt and their skin scarlet with boiling water. They stood with their mouths open, screaming silently into the silence. The first to fall was the gun from Abdullah's hands, followed by himself. On top of him, his elder brother collapsed like a broken toy.

"At least they won't hang your relatives," I consoled the two robbers and forced myself to get dressed.

It got a little easier, the world stopped rocking, but every step was difficult as if three ropes were tied to my body and pulled in different directions one by one when I moved. I couldn't get my socks on, but I strapped a broken phone around it so it wouldn't get damaged.

I leaned against the shelf, gathering my strength for one last action. After resting, he headed resolutely toward the drawer.

My bears were asleep, curled up in a single, slightly damp ball against the far wall. The two arrows were on the opposite half-they'd managed to pull them out on their own, as I had, but the effects of the sleeping potion had broken them more quickly. They were small.

I tried to pull the first one out and almost fell into the box myself. He was too heavy for me, and I couldn't tell by the way he looked. Or was I weak? My head began to rumble again. I was able to get the first one out and then the second one. I put it on the ground next to him.

No, I won't be able to pull them in that way," I complained aloud and looked around the tent for anything that would help me. And then I walked around, looking for at least some cloth on the shelves so I could lay the bears on it and drag them behind me, and then I could ask the adults to help me. If I didn't fall asleep sooner, my eyes began to fall asleep, closing on their own. I had to kick a corner of the box with my little finger (a proven method!) and keep looking, hopping on one leg. The thing I needed was at the furthest end, squeezed between the shelves and the tent canvas, where a proper trolley was standing on a wheel, waiting for me. It was the perfect size for three bears.

Undoing it with my disobedient hands (rather tearing with my shrouded with gift hands than sorting out the knot), I let in the bright sunny day - cheerful and carefree, as I had been an hour earlier.

I glanced around the tent with a frown, marking the path of the cart so that I wouldn't fall and get stuck in the wet ground. My gaze lingered on the two bodies still lying there and stayed on them as my head decided whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Sleepy thoughts were confusing, and I did not want to feel sorry for them, on the contrary. A whole day in this zoo had shown me that it was safest to be inside the cage, leaving the dangerous animals - evil purple, indifferent adults, and greedy kidnappers - on the other side of the bars. The world in the city is not at all like I thought it would be. Ice cream is fought over here. Those who know how to make it beautiful are stolen, and gifts are not appreciated at all. They wish each other pain and evil rather than joy. Perhaps that is the right thing to do here. I haven't seen anything outside the boarding school. Perhaps, we are taught there on purpose - to help and forgive so that in the city we are beaten and kidnapped and made to work for the hope of a better life. So I did the right thing - according to the laws of the adult world. I will have to retrain.

I walked over to Abdul and sat down beside him, looking at the reddish mask of pain on his face.

"There's no doctor here, and you bet a tooth," I scolded him. "You have to keep your word."

I picked up the yellow tooth with my fingers and pulled it towards me - but instead of one, a whole row of wire-linked teeth fell out on my hands. It was heavy! Pulled the bottom tooth - and got the whole jaw. Snapped them against each other and tossed them into my pocket, staggering again. Weakness didn't want to let me go, cradling the swaying ground again.

I rolled the trolley out of the tent and walked slowly, making crooked lines, to the gate, pushing the precious cargo in front of me. On the way, I had to pick the bears back up - my strength was gone for a second. The world went out and turned back on with the sensation of flying upward through the trolley. The pain of the fall gave me a few more minutes of cheerfulness, but I was already well aware that I was unlikely to make it to the gate, let alone to people. But I got beyond the fence. There I spotted a grey wagon by the wall and headed resolutely for it. At first, I wanted to doze off behind it, but then I noticed that there was enough room for the bears and me. It was dry and without grass, so nothing would prevent me to doze off there - just for a minute or even less. I put the bears in front of me, then tipped the cart over, covering the other side (rather, it had fallen so conveniently on its own), and then I hugged my new friends and drifted my eyelids together.

I dreamt something disturbing, with sirens blaring nearby, women crying, loud voices, and dogs barking back and forth. I even heard loud breathing once, but it was immediately replaced by a frightened whimper that quickly disappeared into the distance.

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Chapter 12

Star in the hand