Kitabı oku: «Unwanted child», sayfa 4

– Ow! You're hurting me! What are you doing? – The girl whimpered pitifully. She whimpered and ran off in tears towards the dining-room. Mrs Donova came up to Ted, having heard Lucy's squeak and seen her reaction to the handshake.

– Theodore, you have to be more careful with girls. You're stronger than they are. Look how you scared her. They need to be protected. Come on, it's time to eat. – slowly, pausing at the end of each sentence, said the teacher, as if placing important accents in her words in order for the boy to understand their content. After a series of instructive words, the teacher took the pupil to his seat at one of the dining tables, which was visible even at a considerable distance.

Now, in the middle of the second year of the CEC, the children ate lunch sitting on full chairs, which consisted of four legs for stability, a seat and a backrest. In general, the chairs looked like normal chairs and were no different from the standard adult models, except that they were smaller in size. None of Theodore's classmates needed the auxiliary straps anymore.

Ted walked over to his chair, which was covered with yellow holiday balloons. On the table in front of him was a container of food tied with a golden ribbon in the shape of a bow, which the boy had to untie himself. The other children sitting around him gazed at the food box with interest, wondering about its inner contents. Slowly, Theodore climbed onto the chair, moved closer to the food and began to untie the intricately twisted bow by pulling one end of the golden ribbon. Then he opened the container, and all the neighbours on the dining table leaned forward, looking at the food inside. Inside lay a solid cooked piece of chicken fillet with rice on the side. To the right of the container, lay a napkin-wrapped sweet bun in the shape of an amused grimace. The same exact pastry awaited every child who came for lunch today. The glass to the left of the container was filled with apple sour cream, which was also expected by many, except for those to whom it was strongly contraindicated or disgusting. As it turned out, nothing special was provided for the birthday boy, which some of his classmates might have been excited about, feeling deprived.

Realising that Theodore's lunch did not merit any special interest, the children abruptly turned their attention to their containers and continued their meal. At the end of lunch, the group unintentionally sang the birthday boy a ‘Happy Birthday’ song at Mrs Donova's request. After the song was finished, the teacher brought Davel a small piece of colourful cake on a platter. There were exactly 15 such pieces for each child. Fortunately, no one in the group was allergic to confectionery. Everyone began to eat this culinary delicacy. Ted also took a small piece of his cake and put it in his mouth. The pleasant sweet fruity flavour filled the birthday boy with inexpressible feelings of joy and delight. He greedily began to work the spoon, trying to eat as quickly as possible all the contents of the saucer, before the whole piece disappeared from it to the last crumb. Of course, there were some children who could not get enough and demanded more. But they too had to accept the fact that there was no more to be had. So the little surprise in Ted's honour was over, and the children, cheered up by the dessert they had eaten, headed for the recreation room, which was scheduled for after lunchtime.

By and large Theodore was only given a little more attention than the others. He did not receive any special gift, except a few balloons, nor did he receive any privileges. The food he ate was the same as usual. In addition, one of his gifts did come loose from his chair and flew irretrievably to the ceiling. The rest of the balloons the teacher asked one of her assistants to take them to the teachers' lounge and leave them there. Theodore did not have a separate cot to which they could be tied, and going from one room to another, inadvertently could forget them or drop them. After all the lessons, the teacher planned to give the boy all his symbolic gifts. In fact, it was the first birthday party he had celebrated in five years, where everyone congratulated him together. For the first couple of years of his life, on Theodore's birthday, Lars carried him to the hospital to his mother's house to babysit her beloved baby. But her strength quickly waned, and by 743, when Ted was two years old, she had become infirm. After his mother's death, Lars became even more formalised in his treatment of the child, covering only basic matters concerning his upkeep so as not to become an ‘outcast’¹ and lose all his possessions. Therefore, what kind of birthday celebration in the boy's family could we talk about?

Of course, even such a gesture from the tutor in the form of balloons delighted Theodore. After all, he had never received any presents before. It would seem that nothing could spoil the boy's cheerful and cheerful mood. The school day was coming to an end and the children were going home, which caused a small crush in the main hall on the ground floor. Parents were darting back and forth without stopping to pick up their children and take them out of the Children's Educational Centre. Theodore's own father had never taken much care of him, and Mrs Donova knew it, so it might have felt a little like she was patronising him, but it wasn't quite true. For example, today the tutor was merely helping to put on the boy's jacket. It was at that moment that she was called by the headmistress, inviting her into her office.

– Come, Theodore, let's go get your marbles and go back to wait for your father! – Mrs Donova said excitedly, leaning over to the boy's ear. Together they entered the principal's office, where, having already taken all the seats on the sofa, parents and their children were sitting with disgruntled expressions on their faces. The headmistress sat down at the desk and looking her employee straight in the eyes in a commanding voice said: ‘Miss Donova, there has been a complaint about your behaviour from several pupils in your group and their parents.’

The teacher and Theodore stood almost at the very door separating the principal's office from the corridor. A man and a woman were sitting on the sofa, and on their laps were Patricia and Derek, the offended children. The teacher looked puzzled at the group of seated disgruntled people and said in response, addressing everyone present: ‘I'm not quite sure what I could have done to deserve the displeasure directed at me. We had a normal class today and there were no incidents, just like always.’

– Actually, as it turns out, there was! – came the loud, indignant voice of Patricia's mother, addressed to Mrs Donova.

– I can't wait to find out exactly what happened and what I'm being accused of. – The teacher of the children's group said calmly, putting her hand on Theodore's shoulder.

– Did you think we wouldn't find out anything about your prank? And about the special attention you pay to some of your students? – The student's mum continued to press her, raising her tone every now and then. She shifted her displeased gaze to Theodore.

– Really! How can this be? Don't our children deserve the same attention from your side? – Derek's father supported him, quietly slapping his palm on the armrest of the sofa.

– Can you tell me what you think my fault is? – The teacher asked the question.

– It's your fault for making a public display of this boy's name today. You singled him out from all the other kids. Gave him presents, fed him a dinner party and had the other children sing you a song in honour of his birthday. No one had ever celebrated a personal holiday within the walls of this institution until that moment. And I'm guessing they never will. Anyway, we need to undo what you've done today, just as publicly. And from now on, I hope Mrs Director will see to it that this sort of thing is not repeated. – Patricia's mother arrogantly stated her grievances of the day.

– Well, either that or let's have a holiday for all the children. That would be fairer. – Derek's father supported his mother's monologue.

– And more costly… – summarised the headmistress.

Mrs Donova froze, as if she had lost her breath from the words spoken to her by the parents of the children, who were now looking at her as if she were an enemy of the people. Obviously, the woman had not expected such a reaction, both from the children, who had reported about the holiday in a distorted form to their parents on the same day, and from the parents themselves, who began to defend the truth, which was not the truth. After a few seconds of pause, the educator took the floor, trying to explain how things had really played out.

Ms Donova: ‘I apologise if in any way I have offended you Patricia, and you Derek. Indeed, I took the initiative to organise a small celebratory dinner in Theodore's honour with my own money, which only added up to…’

– Mrs Donova. We are very pleased that you admit your guilt, but we are not interested in your excuses, which you have so carefully prepared. What's done is done. The question is how to remedy the situation now. Please bring to this office the presents you gave this boy. -Patricia's mother interrupted the teacher.

– But why? What are you going to do with these poor balloons? – The teacher asked in an incomprehensible tone of voice.

– You are in no position to argue with me now, let alone raise your voice at me! Do what you are asked to do and don't argue. We are looking forward to seeing you… – a woman with a child in her arms answered the question dryly and imperiously. The teacher looked at the director of the education centre. The director nodded and pointed at the door, as if agreeing with the words of the disgruntled parent. It was understandable. No director needs a scandal, especially a scandal made out of nowhere. Mrs Donova lowered her head wistfully and left the office. Theodore felt guilty at that moment. His mood had plummeted. He froze in one place, staring at the floor and picking at it with the toe of his boot.

– Oh, my God! What shamelessness! Standing there and arguing with me. I hope you don't have all the teachers like that! – broke up mum, summing up another indictment.

However, she was politely and tactfully interrupted by the headmistress: ‘Believe me, Mrs Weinschein, our teachers are the best in their field and are specially selected. Mrs Donova is no exception.’

Patricia's mum: ‘I don't really believe it anymore. Considering that this is not the first time she's done something wrong…’

Headmistress: ‘I think we've dealt with the last situation. It was an accident. No one could have foreseen it. There's no need to put it all in one pile.’

The door to the office opened and a kindergarten teacher came in with two yellow balloons that belonged to Theodore. She handed them to the boy again. He grabbed the ribbons, looked at them and immediately let go, staring at the floor again. The balls scattered around the room in different directions and as if magnetised to the ceiling, which was quite high. So it would have been impossible to get the balloons without a ladder. This gift was already no fun for Ted. Who needs such surprises, which spoil his mood and make him feel heavy at heart?

– Wretched boy! What are you all looking at? Get those damn balls down at once! Now! – The mother became hysterical, jumping up from her seat and dropping her own daughter on the floor, forgetting that she had been sitting on her feet. The girl fell and hit herself, screaming at the top of her voice in pain. The teacher rushed to the child to check her condition and help her. But the mother pushed the teacher away with force and hatred that she could hardly stay on her feet. The mother's face changed. In an instant she turned from a fury and a witch into an angel, covering the fallen child with her wide snow-white wings. Mrs Weinstein began to comfort the girl and help her up.

– My favourite child! I'm sorry. Mummy was a little overexcited… Where's the bobo? Mummy will blow and everything will heal!’ she babbled fearfully looking at her daughter and worrying that nothing would happen to her little creature.

– It's all right, Mummy. – Theodore slowly approached Patricia and took a tissue from his pocket, handing it to the girl. Theodore slowly approached Patricia and took a napkin out of his pocket and handed it to the girl. Patricia smiled in response to the gesture and taking the napkin from the boy's hands, continued to use it to wipe away the tears running down her face. The headmistress rose from her seat and leaning on the table with both hands calmly said: ‘There he is! The act of a true gentleman of our time. Well done Theodore. That's the way to behave with young ladies. Mrs Donova, please take Theodore back to the corridor so that his father won't lose him. Otherwise, he might leave without him, like he did six months ago…’

The teacher nodded and together with Ted they left the office, closing the door behind them.

– What do you mean? Left without him? – Patricia's mother looked at the headmistress with a puzzled look in her eyes.

– You see, not everyone in this world, unfortunately, is as lucky to have parents as your children are lucky to have you. This boy, from birth, has been deprived of a full life with his family. His mother is dead, his father is taking her death hard, Ted has no grandparents. No one cares about him except you and me. And if we turn our backs on him and take our anger and our rage out on the boy, what will his life become? What will he become? Today's situation… it's such a small thing. And you've made such a big deal out of it. It's not worth it. Believe me. The joy Mrs Donova gave him today was like a glimmer of light in his grey family life. Considering that it was the first birthday in five years of his life that Theodore had ever been congratulated by anyone. – said the headmistress, encouraging parents and their children to sympathise and understand.

– It can't be! How? The first birthday in five years? That's just awful! – began the discussion between the children's father and mother.

– You should not judge the situation without fully understanding it… You heard something from your children, but as it turned out, the information was somewhat embellished. And now, let's finish discussing this topic and not come back to it again. – The headmistress summarised the conversation as she escorted the visitors and students to the exit.

Choice of school

It was the last year of the CEC. The spring of the year 747 had arrived. The carers and parents already knew the potential of the children and had to think about finding a place for their future enrolment. The next stage of education was compulsory along with the education centre. There were only two schools in Gaya. One was a sports school that trained future boxers, mixed martial arts fighters and footballers. The other trained farmers and technicians to help fix agricultural equipment that often broke down due to years of use. For other specialities, one had to travel to another town or village to learn them.

It has to be said that in the CEC where Ted was trained there was no directive from above to increase the number of farmers. Firstly, there were plenty of them, and secondly, educators conscientiously identified the strengths of their students and honestly recommended the direction for a particular child in which he could succeed in the future. Although moving to a larger settlement was an unaffordable luxury for the majority of the population, parents were able to provide support to help their child choose a speciality exactly as recommended by the CEC staff, or at least close to it.

The director of the education centre convened the parents' council of the group in which Theodore was studying to advise on each child and to provide a list of schools for admission. A similar counselling session was held for each of the final year groups. The parents, who were attentive to their children's progress, realised their child's potential as early as the second year, so for many of them, the meeting was formal. The most they could get out of it was a list of recommended schools, which were recruiting in the speciality of interest, taking into account their financial situation.

The meeting was scheduled for 18-00. On the one hand, it was easier to get everyone together, because in any case parents took their children home from CEC at that time, and on the other hand, it was the most convenient time for most of the parents. The office of the director was overcrowded with people gathered inside and there was obviously not enough space for everyone. The meeting had already started about 20 minutes ago when Lars knocked on the door. He was tired after work and unhappy that he had to close the restaurant early due to a family emergency. Since there was barely enough money to feed himself, most of the staff had to be abandoned by the businessman. So he had to do many things in the establishment himself. He knocked on the door, immediately opened it and peered through the small crack inside. There was a discussion about Derek Wanger, which was nearing its conclusion.

Headmistress: ‘…so I think it would be ideal for Derek to go to a school with a sporting focus. In principle, you can send him to our village school, but I think that if you have the opportunity, you should go to Ounvilshen. It's a bronze status town after all, and the coaches there teach at a higher level. Not to mention that the school regularly fields its students in inter-city competitions, which certainly raises their level of training, giving the kids the extra practice they need. Yes, Mr Davel. You may come in.’

The headmistress gestured for the latecomer to enter her office, noticing the door slit through which Theodore's father was watching the discussion. Lars quietly entered and took the empty seat among the other parents. He wanted to be free as soon as possible so that he could return to his restaurant again. However, given his lateness, he could only count on the last place in the queue. The headmistress did not discuss each child individually for long, but if there was a discussion between her and the parents, or if they asked additional questions, it took some time to answer.

Describing each child's potential, the head of the youth centre explained to fathers and mothers, grandparents and carers exactly what it was and what prospects the children could have if they chose the right direction. After about an hour, it was Lars' turn. The rows were emptying out, because having received the necessary information about their child, the relatives were no longer particularly interested in staying in the office for a long time, listening about other people's children. Towards the end, only one elderly couple and Lars were left in the room when it was his turn.

Headmistress: ‘So, now, let's talk about Theodore. Mr Davel, could you come a little closer so I can get a good look at you. Especially since the available space in this room already allows for it.’

Despite the fact that there were hardly any people left, Lars had been in the same position until this request, leaning against the opposite wall from the headmistress. After her words, he involuntarily moved closer simply to avoid getting into a conflict with the woman who already considered him a careless man incapable of raising a child. This was due to a number of situations that had arisen in the past involving him, as well as the man's remarks to Theodore. Lars had repeatedly managed to clearly demonstrate his neglectful attitude to his son.

– So, Mr Davell. As you know, we're here to discuss your child's future. Do you already know which specialities Theodore has a great predisposition for? – The headmistress started the conversation, staring practically unblinkingly into the eyes of the boy's parent.

– I thought you were going to tell me everything… – Lars spread his hands, averting his gaze from the head of the CEC.

– Why am I not surprised at all? All the parents who have been in this office today, without my help and hints, already understood the strengths of their children.

– Very happy for them. What's next?

– Ah, next… you know, if it were up to me, if I had even the slightest reason, whether it was a complaint from Theodore or your neighbours about the boy's terrible upbringing and maintenance, I would not hesitate to go to the guardianship authorities and take him away from you. You are not a good parent and have no regard for the welfare of your child!

– But you haven't had cause to.

– I'm sorry… but you know I won't take my eyes off you for the rest of Theodore's education. You show up late and drunk, the child is dressed in shabby clothes that are already too small for him. If you spent less money on booze, you'd have enough for normal clothes. You are a clear example of what kind of parent you can't be!

– I'm still waiting for your comments about the school. I didn't come here to hear insults directed at me!

– Alas, the law is not on my side so I can save a boy from such a father!

– Remember that last phrase the next time you choose your words. Otherwise my patience will run out and you'll lose your job as a result.

– I'm not going to argue with you. I just want to make sure you don't screw up the boy's future.

– His future is not your problem. Let's get down to business.

– Theodore, just so you know, has the potential to be a good martial arts athlete. There are several schools that match his abilities. One, the closest one, is here in Gai. Another is in Ounvilshen, which is a priority because it's higher class. The third is of the same standard as our village school and is in another locality. That's about as far as the options closest to Gai go. Here's a list of all the schools that match the needed direction. They are arranged in order of distance from our village. The asterisks indicate their overall level. Please read this list in detail. Better yet, visit at least five of them to see for yourself their facilities and teaching staff.

– I'll figure it out. Is that it?

– That's all, Mr Davel.

Lars snatched the piece of paper the headmistress held in her hand and turned his back on her and walked silently out of the office. The headmistress looked regretfully at him and turned her gaze to the elderly couple sitting on the sofa.

Man: ‘What an unpleasant type. I remember when he fell in drunk at the CEC and could barely stand on his feet. Good thing we made him leave his car near the centre then. Otherwise, I think there would have been an accident.

Woman: ‘Why haven't the guardianship authorities taken an interest in his behaviour? Is there nothing that can be done?’

Headmistress: ‘Unfortunately, our hands are tied, because the current laws take the unambiguous position that no matter what the birth mother and father are, if there are no complaints against them from the child himself, it is impossible to deprive them of their parental rights. Moreover, Davel formally fulfils the main care of the child, feeding and clothing him. But you and I realise that formal parental care is never enough…’.

Lars grabbed Theodore's arm quickly and roughly, and they walked together in silence towards the car. Although Gai was a small village, the man was accustomed to doing all his business exclusively by means of a vehicle, neglecting walking. Ted, out of habit, wanted to sit in the back seat as he approached the car. He jerked the door handle, but was immediately stopped by his father, ‘No, no. Today you're going to walk and weave around catching up with me. You are an athlete, a future world boxing star! So develop your sporting skills’.

There was nothing to do. The boy stepped away from the car and obediently walked towards the house. It was evening, and it was almost dark outside. The poorly lit dirt road was illuminated only by the headlights of cars passing in opposite directions. Theodore stepped confidently along the narrow pavement, on the right side of which, at a distance of 200-300 metres, there were low lanterns emitting a dim light. They were of little use. They only served to delimit the space around them from total darkness. Lars's car had long since disappeared from Theodore's line of sight and disappeared into the distance. The boy walked in thought, not realising what he had done to make his father so angry that he had been deprived of the opportunity to get home by car. By the time he was six years old, he was already well versed in the neighbourhood, so after 10-15 minutes, the boy was already at home.

The ground floor of Lars's small restaurant was closed, but there was light from the windows of the first floor, and a car was parked in the car park. When Ted climbed the outside stairs to the first floor and entered through the ajar door, he saw his father on the old sofa, staring at the wall. Apparently there was an unpleasant conversation to be had. The boy cautiously approached his father and tried to take his hand, as if trying to apologise for something he hadn't done, drawing his attention to himself. Lars pulled his hand aside and turned to the child.

Lars: ‘What did you tell the headmistress? Why did she come at me again?’

Theodore: ‘Dad, I didn't even talk to her today. I haven't seen her in days.’

Lars: ‘Tell me… you think I don't understand anything? How everyone's talking behind my back about how I'm not as good a dad as everyone else. I don't take care of you. Sons of bitches! Get me a beer from the fridge! Quick!’

The boy ran headlong into the kitchen to get a cool drink for his father from the fridge. He still didn't understand what he had to do with the whole situation. Lars opened a can of foggy beer and drank it in one gulp, tossing it towards the boy, almost hitting him.

Lars: ‘Bring another one!’

Theodore brought the second can of beer and hid behind the sofa, avoiding the tin can flying in his direction. His father started pacing back and forth across the room, clearly nervous. And with each drop of beer he drank, his emotions seemed to intensify. For a moment it seemed to Theodore that if his father gave in to the emotions raging inside him, he might lose control of himself. However, this was not the first time Lars had lost his temper after drinking too much alcohol. Each time it happened, the boy tried to be quieter than water, lower than grass, so as not to cause aggression. Lucky only with the fact that even drunk and inadequate, Davel Sr. never once raised a hand on his son. But the stress the child was under all this time, wondering whether he would fall under his father's hot hand or not, was great.

Lars: ‘They dare to tell me what to do. They think they are exemplary teachers. Stupid rednecks! I come from a big city compared to them. They wouldn't let them anywhere near their kids. And they're telling me what to do! Let's go for a ride!’

After drinking three beers, Lars grabbed his son and dragged him by the hand into the car. They drove to the “place of remembrance”², where Davel planned to honour his wife. There was only one temple in Gai, and that was where Inessa's farewell ceremony was held. Since the Davel family had only basic “LSCs”³ at the moment, Lars had to pay a fee to use the sacred place. Father and son went down to the minus first floor using the lift. Compared to the city temples, the village temples didn't have many rooms underground. Everything was limited to a couple of Places of Remembrance on the minus first and minus second floors, a crematorium and burial cells, which were provided free of charge by the LSC or given on rent.

The Davels headed down the curved corridor to a room with a sign that read ‘PR’, indicating the Place of Remembrance. Theodore had been here before, both in this temple and in this room. He just didn't remember it, as he was too young. Stepping inside, the first thing that caught his eye was a memorial massive wooden table, seating eight people, made of oak. On the sides of the table were long benches. The walls of the room were so well soundproofed that no sound could leave it. This was done out of respect for the personal space of the visitors. Both those who simply came to visit the urns of their relatives, and those who performed their own rituals, commemorating the dead. And everyone's rituals could be different, starting from quiet and calm veneration in complete silence, to a raucous disco with the use of sound equipment. Therefore, thanks to good soundproofing, no one ever disturbed anyone.

– Stay here and don't touch anything. I'll go get your mother. – Lars slammed the door behind him, leaving the child alone for the time being. Theodore walked over to one of the white nightstands that stood in the corner of the square room. It was low, even for the average height of a six year old boy. So the child could easily reach the top of it. On it stood a thick wax candle tied with a dark brown paper ribbon, and to the left of the candle was a holder for the scented sticks that lay inside the nightstand. Ted pulled on the door handle and looked inside. There were a few shelves, and on them were various ritual paraphernalia: herbs, incense, candles of all sizes, ointments, fans, dolls, and other handicrafts. The boy's attention was attracted by a bronze dagger of unusual curved shape. It lay in a scabbard covered with a strange relief painting of suffering faces on fire. Theodore took the dagger in his hand and began to examine the painting in more detail. In addition to the main images, the scabbard had patterns remotely resembling horns, a beard and a crown. The weapon appears to have been made at least 750-850 years ago, in a time of turmoil and unrest. When peace was achieved by force alone. Ted pulled the dagger from its sheath and grasped the handle firmly and raised it upwards, imagining himself a skilled warrior, Rothrig, saving Gai from the evils of which the CEC often told tales. The front door opened and his father walked in, holding a ceramic urn containing Inessa's ashes. When he saw his son, he carefully placed the urn on the table and ran at him with fury, quickly taking the dagger from him and putting it back in the cabinet, closing the door with a clatter.