Аннотация: Старая история, найденная в моих давно забытых черновиках.
It was a very dark night; too dark to be just one of those nights when you curl near the fireplace, all muffled in a warm, cozy blanket, with a cup of nice soothing tea in one hand. Unlike other days, the birds that lived in the nearby forest were silent, and the only noise coming from the outside was a faraway song of crickets and grasshoppers.
"It is getting colder", said a lady looking out of the window of a huge Victorian house. "It might even rain. Do you think he would be able to make it if it rained?"
A gentle female voice answered her. "I am sure he would, mother. This is far more important for him to miss it. You know he had been waiting for a long time." The voice came from the other side of the room and belonged to a young girl, about seventeen or so, who, as one could say, had some unexceptional feature in her. Perhaps, it were the eyes, which dominated her face, with the deepest understanding of the world that reflected in them. Despite her tender age, the girl"s eyes radiated wisdom and some inner power. Their rich dark blue color attracted people like a magnet, and no matter how she tried to hide them with long shawls and hats, they seemed to shine through the thick fabric.
The older woman looked at her daughter. Even now, years later, she could remember the day she was born, the late December night. The weather was particularly bad that winter, and many trees died because of terrible freezing, and strong winds. It started snowing in the first days of the month, and did not stop until the very day Elena was born. When the girl was first placed into her arms, the mother could not help the feeling of some unexplained anxiety for her future, and yet, she could already see what caused that feeling: the incredibly powerful eyes of a baby, too powerful not just for a new-born, but for an average grown-up, for that matter. Little Elena looked at her mother, as if she knew exactly what was happening.
Years passed. The girl grew precocious, being able to read at the age when other kids her age only learned to walk. She wasn"t exactly quiet, rather reasonable, lacking the egoism of a child. Elena never asked for anything, and yet, she always got what she wanted, just looking at a person with those huge blue eyes. Nobody ever said it aloud, but there was no person knowing her, who hadn"t felt the power of Elena"s look.
Another worry of the mother was the girl"s tendency to be alone. She wasn"t afraid of people, no, but somehow seemed to always prefer solitude to what a normal child would do: play with friends. Besides, toys, and especially dolls, never really interested her; on the contrary, adding to her already mysterious image, she would sit for hours alone in her room, looking out of the window if it were night, or drawing if it were day. This habit of staying out of sight stayed with her all through the years, the mother thought glancing at her now grown-up daughter sitting near the fire place, as far from the window as it can be.
Why would she do it? As a matter of fact, she could never understand the girl completely. It was as if she did not belong here, coming to this world by pure accident. Elena wasn"t at all suicidal, rather she accepted the fact that this life is just a necessary step for her. She didn"t care about tomorrow, saying that God will help them all if they deserve His grace; neither did she care about getting married leaving the whole matter to her mother. The old lady seeing this attitude decided to do something to ensure her daughter"s future, and soon Elena was engaged with Jerome Johnson, a very decent young man from a good family, who furthermore was in love with Elena. They decided to have a very small wedding, keeping in mind the bride"s love of privacy, and in a few hours, were going to become man and wife in one of the old Catholic churches in the neighborhood. There were only about ten or so people attending, all close relatives, and the ceremony promised to be peaceful and quiet.
However, despite Elena"s calmness and consent, the mother still wasn"t sure if she herself wanted it. Looking into the eyes she had seen so many times before, the lady once again noticed that tiny flame of emotion, that was always kept locked inside. The eyes of a Goddess who knew what she was doing. The eyes that could mean anything.
"I wonder what keeps him so long", the mother said. "He should have been here an hour ago. I don"t believe he would want to miss this day, not after he had waited for so long."
"Yes, mother, I"m sure he wouldn"t. " Again, being totally calm on the outside, there was something in her eyes, that raised the old lady"s anxiety. The girl"s eyes looked as if she knew something others didn"t. Feeling uneasy, the poor mother decided to go downstairs to check the oven, but when she was just entering the kitchen, she heard a knock on the door, and relieved, hurried to open it. Looking from the window, however, she noticed that it was an old man, not a young boy, and anxiety again filled her heart. The feeling did not fool her, and the guest, who turned up to be their neighbor, a well-respected retired general. Without any other words, he said, "It"s Jerome. He"s dead."
The world started spinning around the poor old woman. Never in her life did she feel herself so defenseless, and weak. Why? Where? How? The questions continued popping out of her head. "It was an accident. He was run by another car." Army-short sentences seemed to help the lady get herself together; she now had a more important job to do: talk to her daughter. Feeling old and feeble, she went upstairs, and saw Elena looking out of the window. "He will not come, sweetheart." The words came uneasily, as if squeezing through her throat. Elena did not move. "Dear, he... he was run by a car. They could not save him." Still silence. The mother came closer, and hugged the girl, who seemed not to be hearing her. Unlike the general and the old lady, she looked as calm as usual, and asked them to leave her alone for a few minutes. When both left, she sat near her desk and started drawing. Line by line, the picture became noticeable, and soon she put aside the paper. Then, after giving it a thought, she took a pencil and added a few words under the drawing.
When the old woman decided to check on Elena in an hour, she found her sitting on a chair near the window, dead. Later, the doctors explained it as a heart failure, resulting from a great stress. The mother, still unable to believe the tragedy, looked around and saw a sheet of paper of Elena"s desk. Taking it in her hand, she quickly recognized her daughter"s work, and started crying. Looking at her with the same wisdom of dark blue color, were the eyes. The eyes of Elena. And underneath them were her last words. "He did not die. I know."