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The Story of the Lost Castle. Nikolay LakutinЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Story of the Lost Castle - Nikolay Lakutin


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her friend.

      Callista (retreating into memories). How old was I then? I just learned to walk, as my father told me later. Mom sat with me for a long time, like all mothers with children at such an early age. And as soon as I got back on my feet, my mother asked my father and her friends to go to the forest for a while, to unwind a little… So none of them came back.

      Maina (after a short semantic pause, sadly). It's strange that you, though a little, but still remember Mom. So many years have passed. Usually children do not remember anything from their early childhood. I don't remember anything from my childhood at all.

      Callista (sad, measured). Strange, I agree, but I remember a little. I remember her eyes, nose, cheeks… But the outlines are already blurred. In the photo, she looks a little different than in my memory… This is ten or twelve years before I was born, she was filmed by her uncle. He was fond of photography.

      Callista looks with warmth at the photo in her friend's hands.

      Callista (tremulously). She's still very young here… Such as you and I are now about. I remember her a little differently.

      Mina looks at the photo and gives it back to Callista.

      Callista takes the photo, looks carefully.

      Callista (sad, measured). And so… All these years I have been living with one thought that never leaves me – to find my mother. Thank you, Mina. Thank you so much for supporting me in this decision. It would be much more difficult for me alone, at least emotionally.

      Maina (after a short semantic pause, sadly). Girlfriend, I will honestly tell you that I am ready to support you in everything and always, just like now and today. But I'm sorry, I don't believe we'll find your mom. Well, judge for yourself, if she were alive-wouldn't she have come back? After all, her beloved child and beloved husband are waiting for her at home. Who wouldn't come back in her place? I think that our campaign with you is doomed to failure, and, nevertheless, I am here with you. I'm sorry…

      Callista warmly hugs her friend, she reciprocates.

      Callista (with warmth). Thank you so much, Mina. How grateful I am to Heaven that God sent you into my not too easy life. Without you, I would have been lost long ago. Thank you for your support, for your shoulder and for your faithful friendship …

      He pauses a little, lets go of his girlfriend, the girls sit down again as they were sitting.

      Callista (with warmth, quietly). And about Mom… It's hard for me to explain it, but I'm not what I believe… I can feel her, you know? I feel like she's alive! I can't describe this feeling myself, it's very strange, not like it was before, with my mother. Something has obviously changed a lot, but she is alive – I know it somewhere deep inside for sure. She's alive!

      Callista looks cautiously at her friend. Myna is being cautious. Of course, she doesn't believe in all this nonsense, but she doesn't want to offend her friend either. She nods her head vaguely and shares with her friend the provisions that have been born again from the backpack.

      Maina (changes the subject, cheerfully and aggressively). Listen, how did you ask the folder off? I'm an uncle… or grandfather Ermolai, as it is correct, I can not decide in any way. I'll call him that way or that way. He's not offended, like?

      Callista (with warmth, quietly). Yes.., I'm late at the folder. He was already over fifty when I was born. And my mother was thirty-two then. There was an age difference, needless to say. Call it as convenient. The folder is not offended, he understands everything. Now he really is, just like an old man. I suffered so much pain because of that loss. One of them picked me up…

      Myna (with interest). Yes… the whole village is aware of this. Well, that's what I'm talking about. I know him well, he would never let you go. And here (pointing to Callista) – you're here! How is it?

      Callista (sadly). You're right. He had already lost his wife once, and he wouldn't have agreed to lose his daughter to boot. And no persuasion would have worked and no deception would have had any effect.

      Myna (with interest). Well??

      Callista (sadly). I ran away.

      They maintain a small pause in the dialogue.

      Myna (with understanding). It probably wouldn't have worked out any other way.

      Callista (briskly). I've been preparing for two weeks. First, I looked for a place in the hallway for a backpack, then I repaired the backpack myself. He's old, he's still from my grandfather. I cooked things, put food in little by little. And everything is covered while the folder is not at home, or is sleeping yet. So this morning, I fluttered out while he was in the toilet.

      Myna (with understanding). Yes… When he understands what's what – oh and upset, grandfather Ermolai. Well, and then, of course, when we come, they'll pay us all. That's for sure.

      Callista (busily). Let's see.

      Myna (with interest). Do you really think he didn't notice anything? Surely he guessed. You don't know how to lie. Everything is written on the face.

      Callista (sadly). He's been asking me for the last few days why she's so gloomy. But I refused.

      They maintain a small pause in the dialogue.

      Callista (busily). Yes, I left him a note. Yesterday I wrote slowly. As if he hadn't caught up with us yet. So! Let's wrap up with a halt, it will be dark soon, we will still have time to go some distance before the night. We roll up, and go. Go-go-go-go!!!

      The girls begin to gather quickly. Everyone cleans up, zips up their backpacks, gets up, puts them on their shoulders and continues their move.

      Music.

      ZTM.

      Scene 4. Ermolai's House

      A modest but well-maintained house. Evening lighting.

      Table. There's a note on the table, an untouched note left by Callista.

      Ermolai enters the house, smiles, carries a box with some provisions in front of him.

      Ermolai (in a pleased voice). Daughter! I'm at home. Lost an old man, I suppose?

      Puts the box on the floor, looks around the hut. His smile is still in force.

      Ermolai (in a pleased voice). Callista, my dear! Are you at home?

      He takes off his shoes, stretches his back, looking at the box contentedly.

      Ermolai (stretching, addressing his daughter, believing that she is at home). I say, lost me, probably, yeah? I went out into the yard in the morning, and there my relatives came to Mitrofan right in the morning, do you hear? They saw each other through the spinning wheel, did not immediately recognize each other. His brother came from the capital, but I knew him from an early age. So he didn't forget me either. I've brought some goodies here, and I've prepared them for our share.

      Ermolai walks through the hut, looks into the rooms, looking for Callista.

      Ermolai (walking slowly, stretching his sides). That's how I stayed at Mitrofan's. They sipped, as usual, on the fourth occasion. Once, yes, the second time.

      He looks around, can't find his daughter, the smile gradually fades from his face.

      Ermolai (not so happy anymore). Well, where are you, daughter?

      His gaze falls on the table on which the note is lying. Ermolai frowns, goes to the table, takes the note, squints, with an old man's limping gait (because something comes into his leg) goes to the locker, finds glasses there, returns to the table again, reads the text carefully. Reads aloud.

      Ermolai (slowly reads Callista's letter aloud with a gasp). Dear Dad, don't lose me, please, I went to the forest in search of Mom. You know how many years this question has been bothering me. I shared it with you. I remember that you also said that there is some kind of ridiculous hope in you that somewhere else my own mother's heart is still beating. I couldn't tell you in advance, I'm sorry, I know I wouldn't let you in.

      I know you've been looking for her many times… I know everything. But I just can't stifle this inner call in myself.

      Ermolai


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