It was a long time ago, when fathers who had returned from war were still so haggard, and their terrible scars could still be seen in the dark greens, and long years ago, mothers wore old-fashioned long clothes and made all sorts of jelly desserts out of ring-shaped molds. One summer, the family had a little money to travel by train. She was also taken on a trip. She was so sick that she almost died, and taking her on a trip was a reward for her survival.

She took her parents' hands and was dragged forward in a hurry, wondering what a bus with a lookout dome looked like and why it was considered special. Then, a gap appeared in the sea of adult thighs, and the high silver carriage of the train finally appeared in front of her. She stared at the row of windows on the roof of the carriage, and thought it looked a lot like the cockpit of a bomber as her father used to say.

The carriage was much better, and much better, and it was impossible for the German and Japanese fighter pilots to strafe the passengers with bullets, so she sat firmly in her seat. There she watched the people walking back and forth on the platform, knowing that the train was leaving the station.

Then her parents shouted loudly and told her to see the view from the dome window, which at first was quite interesting, especially from the distant road, where the cars of the Olds and DeSoto brands floated in the gloomy silence, and then they entered the bay leaves, and occasionally saw real horses and cows in the fields.

The change in her parents was even more interesting. Without a uniform, her father looked younger, neither depressed nor ridiculed, just grinning and happy. Her mother was dressed as a serene and happy look, like a housewife in a magazine advertisement.

They held hands as if they had just been married, and they cried out in ecstasy at the change of sight before them, and kept telling her how lucky she was to be in the coach with the observation dome.

She had to admit that they seemed right, but her eyes were nervously and incessantly fixed on the blue sky framed by the dome, expecting a sudden fire or smoke to rise from the edge of the dome. How can people want to turn on happiness as if they were on the faucet, and pretend that the world is a bright and good place, when they know that it is not that place at all?

The candy vendor came over, and Dad bought her packets of mint-flavored jelly. She didn't like mint-flavored jelly, but she ate it anyway, but her father's good mood made her wonder, and she was surprised and fascinated by her mother's order to wash off her face and hands, and the small steel toilet made her amazed and fascinated.

Trains don't stop in small unfamiliar towns in order to get people on and off. The old neon logo on the brick walls of the hotel gleams, and the glowing trees like Christmas trees climb over the mountain peaks, leaving behind black outlines. The sunset was round and red. When the sunset was still shining on the clouds, her parents took her to the dining car.

In the space between the carriages, anyone could fall and die instantly, which was truly terrifying, and people sat in a long room in the back, calmly drinking coffee and eating bread and fried beef patties, as if there was no chasm running after them beneath them. She looked at the people who were eating in horror as she pushed the green beans on her plate over and over along the edge of the plate while her parents were chatting happily and didn't say anything about her.

By the time they climbed the narrow staircase again, night had fallen. The lights in the entire carriage are dim, like in an aquarium, and through the glass windows, you can see shooting stars. With a light like a knife, she walked back to what she had done. When she sat down again, she noticed someone sitting in the aisle. It was previously empty.

The man and woman behaved elegantly, as if they had come out of a movie. The woman wears a white fur coat with red fingernails, which is perfect, and the man wears a long coat with a silver scarf around his neck. His eyes were like a pool of black water. He was pale, the women were pale, and even the little boy who followed them was pale. The little boy sat stiffly in the seat in front of them. He also wore a long coat and gloves, like a little adult. They must be rich, she thought.

After a while, the flight attendant lady came up and smiled to inform everyone that there would be a meteor shower tonight. The graceful man and woman winked at each other. The little girl turned and got up from her seat, crossed the back of her chair, and stared at her parents, asking them to explain what a meteor shower was. When he understood, he put his face on the cold glass window and looked eagerly at the sky. There was some light floating in the darkness in the distance, but he didn't see a single one.

Disappointed, he was tired of it, and finally she left the window and got to her seat again. Yes, she noticed that the little boy over there was staring at her. She ignored him, and kicked her parents behind the chair and said:

"There's nothing popular at all. She complained.

"You didn't try to look at it. Her father said, and her mother said,

"Shhhhhh She passed it from the back of her chair and added, "Slide down what you see through the window, draw a few more pictures, and show them to your aunt when we get to her house." ”

The little girl's eyes widened, and as a result, what her mother had given her, she retracted into her seat. She loved to wear the fresh and clean green-yellow sunspots, and she loved the combination of pure colors. At home, all her crayons sit in an old café with a mess of pencil heads and broken strips of paper.

Finally, she chose an olive-green crayon and opened the notebook. She drew something in the shape of a cigar and a flat wing. She painted the plane, used sky blue, and spent the glass window. She spent a few stars on her wings in black and also dotted a lot of dots in front of the plane to indicate bullets.

She looked up and saw that the boy was staring at her again. She frowned angrily at him.

"These crayons are really nice," he said, "so many colors." ”

"It's really big. She said.

"Can I draw too?" he asked, so calmly that something strange tugged at her heart. Is he so flat because he is afraid?

At this moment, which elegant man spoke:

"Daniel, don't bother that little girl. There was a strange resonance in his voice, something was wrong anyway. He sounds like he's in a movie.

"You can talk to me," she told the boy, who had decided suddenly, "but you have to sit down, because I don't want to tear the paper off."

"Okay. He said, stepping out of his seat as she made room. The graceful man and woman looked at them attentively, but when they saw the children open their notebooks, each holding a crayon, they seemed to be relieved, smiling and refocusing their attention on the night. Which boy wore gloves all the time when he painted colors.

"Don't you have crayons at home?" she asked him for the knife and drew black ring tires underneath the plane. He shook his head, pursing his lips into a line as he examined the rate crayons he had just used.

"How can you not have crayons in your house? You are so rich. She said, regretting herself for saying this, because he looked like he was about to cry. However, he shrugged his shoulders and said nonchalantly.

"I love things like drawing. ”

"Oh," she said. She looked at him closely. Her hair is very light in color, and her eyes are blue, a deep twilight color. "Why don't you look like your mother and your father?" she asked, "I have my father's eyes, but your eyes don't look like theirs." ”

He glanced over his shoulders at the graceful man and woman, then leaned over and whispered, "I was adopted." ”

"Oh. You're at war, aren't you?" she said, gesturing to the airplane she had drawn. "It's like a shell landed on your house, you became an orphan, and then the soldiers took you away, didn't it?"

"Nope. He said. He put the green crayon back, took another brick red, and drew a house, square, with a triangle at the top, which was a chimney, and from which came a puff of smoke. He drew well. "I don't think that's the case. ”

She drew a jagged black line on the underside of the plane, a shattered shape that had been blown up. She drew small balloons poking their heads out of the rubble, and she drew faces with tears streaming down their faces. "That's what happened to war orphans," she explained, "and my dad told me all of this, and I could see it when he said it." So, none of this happened to you?"

"No," he replied, drawing a large window in the house. An extra-large window, wide open. It occupies the entire wall. He carefully put the brick-red crayons back in place and took the gray ones. "Anyway, now the war is over. ”

"Everybody thinks so," she replied, glancing uneasily at the dome of the carriage. "But my dad said the war wasn't really over yet. ”

"War could come back again at any time. There are a lot of bad people, and maybe the person who brought you out of the orphanage is the bad guy. ”

The boy opened his mouth, closed it again, and glanced behind his shoulder. "No," he whispered, "something else happened to me. Now I'm their little boy. We're here tonight so they can watch the shooting stars from the train. They've never done that before, and they like to try something new, you know?"

He took a gray crayon and drew a man with a stick, taller than the house, walking away from the window. He drew a long coat for it. Its arms were raised upward, like the devil described by Frankenstein, and then he drew a white burden in its hand.

He put down the gray crayon, picked up the pink crayon, and added something like a face to the white bag.

"Look," he said, "that's ......"

"Daniel, what are you drawing?"

The elegant woman asked suddenly.

The little boy flinched, and the little girl felt like she was going to flinch.

"Mom, that's the guy who came home carrying wood, wood for the fireplace. ”

The boy said, then he picked up the brown crayon and hurriedly added a few strokes to the burden in the man's arm, turning it into a piece of wood.

The little girl saw this and hoped that the lady would not notice that the man in the painting was leaving the house.

"I want to be a painter when I grow up. ”

The little boy said, "I went to the studio, and they told me to go there for lessons, and a famous painter taught me how to draw. ”

He drew a row of brown cylinders, then picked up a green crayon and drew a number of green circles on top of the cylinders.

"This is the woods," he added quietly.

He picked up a dark blue crayon and drew a shadow in the woods and angular stars on top of the trees.

"Did he take the baby out into the woods?"

The little girl asked in a whisper.

He just nodded, and when he had finished drawing the last star, he turned the page, and since she had used up all the places on the page, she didn't complain, but picked up the olive-green crayon again.

She laboriously drew some soldiers, and he watched.

"What are you going to be when you grow up?" asked the boy.

"Be a waitress in a small restaurant," she reached, "and if I don't die, I can be a ballerina." ”

"I might also be a dancer, if I don't die," he said, reaching for the gray crayons. He began to draw images of cylinders like oatmeal boxes, and a castle with a notch.

She picked up the bayonet in the soldier's hand with black crayons and said, "The boy can't be a ballerina." ”

"Some boys had to. ”

He said melancholy, painting windows on the walls of the castle.

"They had to wear black leotards, while the girls wore pink ones. Madame tapped the ground with her cane and counted the numbers in French. Madame had a hoof on one of her feet, but no one said anything about it. ”

"Strange. ”

As she spoke, she frowned as she drew the soldiers fighting bayonets.

The little boy glanced at the little boy's words, and then asked, "Where are the king and queen?"

The little boy sighed and picked up the blue violet crayons. On one of the spires is a large quest with a crown, but the face is blank. He optimized a man with a crown on another battlement.

"Let me use a black crayon, please?"

"You're so polite!" she said, handing him the crayoon. He drew black eyes on the face of the man wearing the crown, and she picked up a red crayon and drew a flag on the ground. She drew a red circle, from which light shot up to the edge of the rectangle, and then filled the flag with red dots.

Suddenly, the little boy asked.

"Do you know magicians?"

()

vertex