Cказки Призраков. Tales of Ghosts. Премия им. Эдгара По / Edgar Poe Award (Билингва: Rus/Eng). Александра Крючкова
даже не обернулась, вспомнив по дороге, что на скамейке остались цветы, которые подарила мне Кристи.
***
Я вышла замуж и вернулась в колледж в первый день нового учебного года, чтобы забрать документы. Мои ребята подросли, но почти совсем не изменились. Среди них я не увидела только Кристину. Подруга-преподавательница сказала, что в списках учащихся девочка числится.
Мы с подругой пришли к директору. Мне, собственно, было уже не до Кристины – требовалась подпись директора на моих документах, но подруга поинтересовалась, почему девочка отсутствует.
– Её отец – мой старый школьный приятель, – произнёс директор. – Когда в прошлом году у Кристины умерла мать…
– А у неё умерла мать? – удивлённо воскликнула я.
– Да, но девочке говорили, что её мама уехала в командировку. Бабушка Кристины, мать её отца, не любила внучку – не признавала, как, впрочем, и свою невестку. И тогда я посоветовал отдать девочку к нам.
– Так почему же она не приехала в этом году?
– Кристина и её отец… пропали…
– Как пропали?! – я была ошеломлена.
– Уехали на море, но так и не вернулись. Полиция до сих пор разыскивает их… Кстати, Элис, она ведь училась в вашем классе?
…С тех пор прошло много лет, и я сама исчезла из мира. Но, сжигая в костре воспоминаний различные истории своей земной жизни, я до сих пор не могу расстаться с этой, ведь каждый раз, когда судьба преподносила мне горестные уроки, я слышала детский голос, шепчущий: «Ну же, Элис!»
11. Come on!
I worked at a luxury college as an elementary school teacher. I was twenty-five years old, full of hopes and plans for the future. Life pampered me. I never denied myself anything and got all I wanted. Troubles bypassed me, and I felt happy.
That college was located not far from the city, at the edge of a beautiful small lake in a pine forest. We accepted children whose parents could pay a substantial tuition fee for a year, carried out according to the usual school curriculum, apart from optional courses and extra-activities, and the children lived there for the whole school year, although parents could, of course, take them home for weekends and holidays. We had very tasty food. The dormitories were furnished as well as luxury rooms of the five-stars hotels, just in various fairy tales design. The pupils used to pass their free time playing, going for walks and generally doing whatever they wanted, since almost nothing was forbidden to them.
That year I was recruiting the first class, afraid of being unable to communicate with the kids «in the same language». However, I adapted quickly enough, and everything went perfectly. The class turned out to be friendly, the children were talented.
***
Before Christmas, I announced the PTA meeting, after which the parents could take their children home for the holidays. Returning to the teachers’ building in the evening, I noticed a little girl in a squirrel coat who seemed to be waiting for someone. It was Christina from my class.
«What are you doing here?» I asked.
«Is my dad coming?»
«Of course, he is! Go to your room, it’s getting late!»
«Come on, Alice… Talk to me!» Christina said almost in a whisper, averting her gaze to the side.
I didn’t know how to react to her words. None of the pupils addressed me like that, and I was about to reprimand the girl, but then, looking into her sad eyes, I changed my mind. Besides, the Christmas atmosphere was already in the air: the blizzard had turned the edge of the forest into a fairy tale, it was still snowing, and the lanterns were winking mysteriously…
«Go back to your place, Chris!» I repeated, but the girl didn’t move and remained silent, forcing me to add categorically, «I have to go, see you tomorrow!»
I told a lie, there was no need for me to rush, I just didn’t want to stay alone with her. After walking about ten meters towards the staff building, I heard her voice calling me,
«Alice! You look like…»
However, I didn’t turn around…
***
On the eve of the PTA meeting, I planned to take a walk along the lake with my friend, a seventh grade teacher, but she was suddenly called by our chief, and I had to wander alone. As I sat down on the bench, Christina materialized next to me, as if out of nowhere.
«Why are you alone, Chris?» I asked.
«I like it this way.»
«Don’t you like to play with other children?»
«I don’t.»
«Why?»
«I’m not like them.»
I wanted to ask «why» again, but I said nothing.
«Come on, Alice… let’s talk,» Christina added quietly.
«Well-bred girls don’t talk like that to those who are older!»
«I will