On the Wings of Hope : Prose

It seemed that this day was the most common afternoon, which happens exactly three hundred sixty five times during a year for a detached onlooker. But it might seem to someone other – yet not to him. Not to him.

A ghost or a man? At first I thought that I’ve encountered a true ghost, when he carefully approached my home and greeted me. As if having appeared from nowhere …

I welcomed him, having sharply put my right palm to a head and then releasing it – for unknown to me reason men in military uniform often made this gesture, and so I have decided to try it out as well.

“Warrior”, - said stranger and smiled. “A true warrior will once come out of you”, - he added. He started talking. Asked me of my district and inquired if he can live somewhere here for sometime till “it will be time for him to move on” – it seemed he expressed that way.

We – I together with Laura, who have come running to my house just by that time to invite me and Jim on Saturday picnic, which her parents were going to arrange – both have actively joined the conversation with a stranger, eagerly rivalry chattering and interrupting each other to give that man as much information as possible on why, for example, he is will be glad to stop in the house of aunt Zhanetta and don’t need to even dare thinking of stopping in the “Night Rider” tavern. So we learned that ghost is called Richard. “Richard”, - said the ghost, - “one of my favourite names”.

When we finally finished our explanations and both stopped, having become fairly tired from such verbal outburst, he smiled and inquired whether he could stay in my house for a while.

“And why don’t you want to stop at aunt Zhannetta?” – Laura outstripped me with question and looked at the stranger with inquiring and interested look. Richard-ghost moved his eyes to a left-upper corner – as if reflecting on something. Then has somehow taken hands aside, having exposed his palms up as if asking someone unknown for help – so it continued for about ten seconds. Then he stirred up his head and once again has looked as us with a radiant look – till now I remember that wonderful sparkling of his eyes! – and has started talking once more.

- Decided to check one more time if I should stay where you have offered me at first. It will not be the best choice. I should stay for some time close to you for now.

We, of course, started asking him one after another of why he should stay exactly with us as how he has learned of that, and he replied: “You will learn everything in due time. When you will grow up, you shall understand. Warriors”, - he added and smiled. “Be not afraid, John, be not afraid, Laura. I will not cause you any harm. Warriors of good battle together – shoulder to a shoulder – and no against each other”.

But … I didn’t tell him my name! And neither did Laura! How could he possible know them? Judging by Laura’s face I have seen that she is a bit confused as well. “But how did you…”, - she started asking – and suddenly changed her mind, without finishing her phrase.

The stranger turned to face her and smiled.

-          You want to ask yours and John’s names? No, I didn’t inquire people about you for that I have no need. You will receive the answer to that question as well, having grown up. Many things will open before you then.

He has told nothing more on that question and we haven’t interrogated him as well.

“As I understand, a consent of your parents is necessary for me to live together with you?” – and looked at us. “Well, certainly”, - he added again after five or ten seconds. “I will adequately pay for my accommodation and will not disturb you I my everyday life. However, if you”, - and he looked at me and Laura – “will ever need my help – you can always address me while I am staying with you. I will be around here for about a month, and then I will have to move on for my path calls for me. Ask your parents and decide together whether will you accept me – and who from your parents may welcome me. I will come tomorrow afternoon. Good luck to you, warriors”, - and, having this said, he has fitfully got up, waved his hand, parting, and suddenly disappeared behind a horizon almost as fast and mysteriously as he has come, having left us both in feeling of bewilderment and at the same time in sensation of some bright joy and presentiments of upcoming happiness.

At least I was left with such a feeling – but Laura, seemingly, as well.

- So, what are we supposed to do now? Did this man seemed … strange to you? – and Laura lift her eyes, studying me.

- Strange? Yeah, that’s true … he is strange … but still I trust him for some reason. Don’t know why. I trust him a believe in his motives – I replied.