I love waking up with the sunrise, but not this early! Dawn hadn't even hinted when this trio woke me and we set off. I was light — just a small running backpack — the guys were kitted out like serious adults: each of them had a little cart attached in reverse…
I've dreamed my whole life of manufacturing such one-wheeled contraptions: from a complexly shaped cargo frame mounted on a small wheel, two long aluminum shafts ran back and were attached to a wide belt, so you barely had to hold them with your hands. On top, their luggage was securely tied. Mountain boots, thick dusty pants and jackets — now the guys looked like seasoned travelers, nothing like last time.
"Nice carts! I'd just make the cargo frames detachable, so you could stand the whole thing on them."
"Why?"
"Then they'd work not only on trails but also on snow — like sleds."
"Well, they work like that already! You don't need to detach anything — just flip them upside down, attach the handles at a different angle — and done! Prowadź nas, pan Susanin!"
By the time the road ran out, it was starting to get light.
"There's our goal!" I pointed at the mountain straight ahead. "Looks close, but we'll have to go around this field."
"It's only a hundred meters across! But going around is more than a kilometer!" Nekhay grumbled.
"The field was just plowed, and it rained the day before yesterday — we'll get stuck."
"The day before yesterday isn't yesterday! I'll go straight across and wait for you… right by that clearing where the power lines go into the forest, okay?"
"Maybe he's right?"
"No." I wasn't in the mood to explain or argue. "Fine. By the power lines, so be it."
A few minutes later, after we'd walked a fair distance, we looked back. Nekhay, with a roar that reached us loud and clear, was yanking his leg out of the ground as if it were a rooted tree, moving it a little forward, then pulling out the other, only to try to drag his cart, which had sunk in the mud up to half its wheel.
"Should we wait?"
"Why?" they answered in unison. "He won't turn back, he'll keep going to the end. Why didn't you say it would be this bad?"
"I did."
"You didn't say it would be this bad!"
"If I were alone and tired on my way home, I'd also go straight across. True, I didn't know the cart would sink so deep."
"Yeah, the wheel's too narrow — should've put it on sled runners."
"Should've gone around!"
Strange thing, but by the time we reached our meeting point, Nekhay had almost crossed… almost swum across the field. He was covered in mud, practically up to his ears. He'd clearly had to fall, dive, and surface — behind him stretched a freshly dug trench half a meter deep.
"I'm fine," he wheezed, crawling onto the grass. "It's only really boggy in one place; the rest is just mud up to the knees." Then he tried to sit down, but flopped flat on his face. "Why didn't you say it would be this bad?"
"I did! To you and to them — twice!"
"You didn't say it would be this bad!"
Falling, he'd unhitched from his cart, so while he was wiping the mud off himself, we tried to pull the nearly stuck wheel onto solid ground without getting dirty ourselves.
Finally, he'd more or less cleaned up, caught his breath, and turned to me: "Go on, laugh. Taking joy in someone else's misfortune — that's low."
"I wasn't…"
"Yeah you were," he mimicked.
"I was laughing about something completely different! Look, another half-kilometer up and there's your tunnel!"
"And that makes you happy?"
"Yes — because we'll say goodbye! You go inside or wherever, I go home."
"That wasn't the deal! What if there's a guard, dead ends, chasms, or some kind of Bar-log, a demon from hell hiding behind a curtain with a rock in his pocket? We don't know anything, and you're practically local!”
"What Bar-log? I've never been there!"
"Tell that to someone else! You wrote it yourself in that blog post of yours (I confess — there was one) — a mountain, trees in perfect circles on top — and that's on steep slopes! No rain for a week, but the trees were wet, right? And your phone and camera both died right then — you're not going to deny it, are you?"
"I've been on the mountain, but never inside your mine shaft!"
"Then we'll just take a quick look inside, look around, and then climb the mountain — that's what we agreed on!"
"Then let's go faster!"
"You're not happy to see us — oh, you're not! Feels like last time we met a completely different person."
"Yeah, a young, spirited one…"
"A moron," I offered.
"In the good sense of the word!"
"Does that word even have a good sense?"
"Everything has a good sense… just say whatever pops into your head."
"Fire in the workshop!"
"Baaaa…"
"Beeee!"
"Neither be nor me nor cock-a-doodle-doo…"
"Why do you talk like that? By the way, that fire was a good test! For you, the firefighters, and all the neighbors who came to help! Now tell me: if there'd been no fire, could you be proud of yourself? With one arm and a crowbar in your teeth, flying like a whirlwind over crumbling slate from one beam to another, putting out flames and tearing off roofing felt — could you even have imagined in your wildest fantasies that you could do that? And the firefighters, who came fast and stopped you from falling off the roof into the fire — didn't they give you faith in humanity?"
"In what?"
"Well, fine — just faith that everything can turn out okay?"
"Yeah, I guess they did."
"See… and you're going on about 'workshop, workshop'… So many good, bright memories — all because of one little spark that we hid badly and you set free! If it happened again, we simply couldn't act any differently! To our own detriment, at the cost of our journey, we'd shove that spark under your feet again…"
"Just to keep you from missing out on the joy! Got it? So cock-a-doodle-doo is very appropriate here!"
"And why's that?"
"Open Dahl's dictionary — it's written there in black and white: this exclamation proclaims victory."
Fine, we've already reached a giant black hole in the mountain, so I'll tell you about the fire some other time — not now.
We stood on an old abandoned platform in front of the tunnel. Its wide-open maw seemed to… Jokes aside, but it really did seem like a beast frozen mid-pounce. One second, two — in short, we didn't wait for it to jump at us; we walked forward ourselves to… well, imagine that it really is an open mouth, and we need to get somewhere into its stomach. The right move is to slip past the teeth quickly — you never know.
After a minute, the entrance light became a small bright patch behind us. The floor was even, free of debris. Our flashlight bulbs shone properly but brought no particular joy. We couldn't reach the ceiling; the walls we walked along grew darker and warmer… a strange feeling — it began to seem like they were upholstered in velvet. If they'd had any color at first, soon they became impenetrably black, devouring whatever light still tried to escape the flashlights. But soon there was nothing left in those either; we were in total darkness. I caught hold of the front cart, tried to grab a neighbor to keep my balance, missed, and slammed my forehead into the floor with all my strength. Sparks poured out of my eyes like a whole sheaf — but they too were instantly swallowed by the velvet. Probably the tunnel curved slightly, because when I looked back, I couldn't see even a tiny point of light.
"You okay?"
"Yeah…"
"Then forward — don't stop! Maybe sing something?" Mogulya asked, and without waiting for an answer, launched into a beautiful tenor:
"Again the long stage, again the camp's stench…"
A few seconds later, the others joined in:
"And over the camp it's night, over the camp it's night, leaves are falling…"
"Guys, where have you been for these twenty years?" I thought with something like horror, and from all sides came the reply:
"And the bastard judge
Can't take you from me.
I know how hard it is
When there's longing in the heart —
I know — such is fate…"
There was no echo, no light, no claustrophobia either — we'd all learned to tell where each person was by sound and not step on each other's heels. Or, as cyclists say, to sit on the wheel. I, not knowing the words, brought up the rear.
Finally, the song ended.
"Now that was heartfelt," someone said, sounding like they had a tear in their voice.
"Let's do it again!" And they started over.
By the fourth repetition, I'd learned the words and was walking briskly in the middle of the group.
Soon light appeared ahead. It wasn't that "light at the end of the tunnel" — or tunnel — which is correct? Anyway, doesn't matter — somewhere in front of us a thin luminous thread appeared, floating and never letting us catch it. For a second, I thought a small glowing cloud separated from the thread, resembling a woman in a white dress. She was reaching forward with a hand in a black glove up to the elbow, as if saying: "Wipe away the dust…"
"Do you see it?" I cried out…
Ai-Yoi-Yachikichiki
"Wait a minute, wait a minute..." Ai turned the book so the picture faced her friend, then jumped off the couch and slapped her hand on the now-empty top shelf. "It's her, it's Yachikichiki! When did she even have time?!"
"What, empty?" Yoy shook her head disapprovingly. "The blanket ran away, the sheet flew off, and Chekushka, like a frog, hopped away from me... took off again?"
"Yep."
"Well, good riddance — we're not our sister's keeper... It'll be hilarious when she wakes up and finds herself gone!"
"Do you see it?!" I exclaimed.
The guys tensed up and stopped singing. "What?"
"There!" I pointed at the woman standing to our left... who was supposed to be to our left but had dissolved before I even started waving my arms.
"Ah," they waved me off like a child afraid to enter a dark room because there are monsters under the bed.
After a while, the thread — invisible to my companions — also vanished. But somewhere far, far away, another glowing dot appeared. It grew and grew until it became our long-awaited exit! It seemed like several suns were beckoning us from ahead — so bright was the light from the gates left slightly ajar. We quickened our pace, and by the end we were almost running. Soon the tunnel ended, and we threw the gates open...
Better if it hadn't ended! Better if we hadn't thrown anything open!
"What's that?"
"Who's that?"
"Where's that?"
And I couldn't resist: "When's that?"
The day was dull. An unfinished embankment stretched toward our tunnel. One by one, little dump trucks — I'd seen such things in a documentary about the construction of either GOELRO or the Dnipro Dam back in the thirties — pulled up, dumped their loads of earth, while nimble workers in dirty, torn pea coats leveled it and rushed to the next truck, slipping on the snow. All around, the construction site was ringed with watchtowers, observers in crisp new uniforms.
Ai-Yoi-Yachikichiki
Yachikichiki jumped down from the top shelf: "I think you were wrong to call the author's picture names. He was being allegorical — not about actual places, but about his own soul. If I were him, I would have drawn it like this:"
"Oh, profound! Well then, I like to draw too:"
"Oh, gloomy. You look at life pretty darkly for someone so young. Been drawing long?"
"Drawing what?"
"I prefer drawing the creation of the world." The conductor looked shy.
"Big subject!" Ai shut the book. "Okay, pull out your drawings. Let's see."
"Enough," Yoy cut her off. "If it were daisies in a meadow or mermaids in trees, fine. But fairy tales about the creation of the world! Just read already."
"Why fairy tales?" The conductor was offended. "I drew from life. I just didn't bring them with me."
"Read!" Yoy turned back to Ai.
---
Somewhere in the distance, a locomotive whistle sounded — I'd heard that too in old movies. A little farther down the slope stood a train, and equally dirty people, only small, were shoveling earth from the cars into those little trucks buzzing back and forth. Finally, the last car was emptied. Just then the locomotive blew its whistle and slowly chugged off into the gray mist. Another one puffed toward it — not with open cars, but with boxy freight cars. Soon the gates of the first car swung open, and people poured out onto the ground. Strange, dressed in all sorts of rags, they darted one by one toward some administrative barracks, quickly formed into columns of three, then just as quickly marched off down a road that disappeared into a ravine. Car after car emptied, more and more.
"I don't like this place much. I'm heading back," I said.
"Honestly, I was expecting something else too," Mogulka added.
"Come on! What? The beach, surf, and girls in bikinis?" Nadolka smirked. "How tacky."
"Why tacky?"
"Hiding natural beauty behind all those *bikin*s..." Nadolka began, but just then we were spotted.
"Halt right there!" Several men in greatcoats and blue caps with red bands ran toward us. They were all armed with rifles, but the first, loudest one held a revolver in one hand and a leash in the other — attached to a German shepherd with bared teeth.
"Stop, or I'll shoot!" he yelled, so we quickly ducked back into the darkness. They couldn't reach us directly — a still-unfilled narrow chasm separated us.
"Take cover, everyone!"
"Too late for mineral water — in five minutes they'll climb across this chasm, and the dog even sooner. We need to get the hell out!"
"Get the dog?"
"The dog too, but mostly ourselves!"
"Let's go."
But it turned out we didn't have five minutes. Shouts came from right nearby, and stones rained down onto the platform in front of the tunnel — someone was climbing down from above!
"Run!" Nekhay shouted, and added on the move: "Close it!"
Who he was shouting at, I never figured out. Maybe Mogulka and Nadolka, maybe me, or maybe the mysterious Sim-Sim. But behind us came a sound — not quite an explosion, more like a strained exhale — the tunnel creaked like an old man, fell silent, then coughed one last time, blasting a strong wind at our backs. The light behind us died, and once again we were in total darkness.
Almost total. I thought I saw — somewhere above us or inside my head — tiny silver threads appear, spin, then either tie themselves into a knot or just tangle up, and quickly vanish into the distance like a vision.
"Did you see that?"
"No — see what?"
"What about you? You didn't see anything?"
"Nothing."
"Silver, like spiderwebs... They disappeared, faded away..."
"Woof! Woof!" We all jumped nearly to the ceiling. Only Nekhay, after having his laugh, added: "Woof!"
"What was that?"
"That was me barking!"
"That much is obvious. What was *that*?" I nodded backward. Even though I couldn't be seen in the dark, everyone understood.
"Approximation error..." And sensing my confusion, he added — or rather shouted — "They replaced a curve with broken lines, you morons!"
A few minutes later, the tunnel literally spat us out — this time we'd gone through it much faster.
"Hey, where are your carts?.."
---
Ai-Yoi-Yachikichiki
"Come on, come on, let me see. Are they really that wonderful?" Yoy peered over Ai's shoulder at the book and recoiled. "Ugh, ugh, ugh — what's that?"
"A doggy. I drew it." Ai turned to Yoy and unexpectedly barked, loud.
"You'd be better off learning to talk," Yoy paused for a second, then added: "or meow... but where are the carts? I wanted to see them."
"The author made it perfectly clear — the carts got lost!"
"You're ruining the whole plot with your drawings!"
"Nope, my drawing is outside the plot. Just for decoration."
"Still, if we keep inserting our own pictures and changing everything, we won't finish reading this book by some unknown author — we'll be reading our own."
"Well, what's the downside? Just kidding, just kidding — reading without stopping!" Ai coughed a few times to clear her throat...
But her throat wouldn't clear...
P.S. From the Author: If the path seems a bit too foggy after this chapter, take a look into my laboratory on BMAC. There, in a free EPUB file, the story continues with "The Hidden Child" (§ 33) and "A Nose for Freedom" (§ 33.1). They will place the guiding pillars and show the hidden pits on this weird trail, making the plot a little more visible. Grab it for free! And if you feel like treating the old author to a cup of coffee for his efforts and translation struggles — I will be deeply grateful!