Mira [On-Going]

CHAPTER TWO: PART THREE

The chilling roars soon became identifiable, and more and more irritating to the auditory senses. Then I heard the tugging of leather, followed by a change in the rhythm of the clapping hooves. I felt a gentle push which made my body lean to the side, towards the front of the wagon. The clicking and clacking sounds had disappeared. We had arrived. The wagon stopped just before the base of the slope--right before the ground started to rise up connecting the worn out cobblestone path with the wet concrete road, with its rear facing the meadow. The horse sneezed and snarled as it stood surrounded by the echoing bellows of the celebrating amphibians. I took a peek through the opening of the wagon trying to find where the bellows were coming from. The back of my hand felt the cold surface of the damp leather cover. The area was surrounded by rows of long green grass still wet from the rain. The grass had pretty much hidden the culprits behind the horrid howling, rendering them invisible. There was no specific direction that pointed where the howling came from.

"Time to go, kid. Lucky the rain died down just at the right time," Roman said with his head turned towards me.

"Yeah, lucky."

"Need help with your things, kid?"

"It's fine, I can handle my own. I ain't a little boy anymore," I answered followed by a titter and said in a mocking manner, "I'm quite upset that you have not noticed, Roma. I am really upset."

"My bad, my bad, you're right. Little Mira ain't no kid no more," said Roman with a sarcastic tone and a childish grin on his face. "I remember I used to save your ass from bullies way back in kindergarten."

"Ahh, the good old days. Easier times, wouldn't you agree? I would definitely be able to kick yours now."

"Don't get your hopes up too high, kid."

"Oh I'm sure I would be able to."

"Would not."

"I definitely would."

"Let's bet on it then."

"No time for that. I've a bus to catch--remember? Focus, Roma, focus."

Roman laughed. I laughed along with him then sighed.

"Better days, weren't they?" I said.

"Yeah, those were the days. But hey--"

He brushed his hair back then placed both elbows on the wagon's wooden railing with his arms crossed. His eyes were wide open and his eyebrows were raised; his entire facial expression suggested how enthusiastic he was with what he was about to tell me.

"--you get to live the university life now--living alone, be the master of your own life, women; lots of women. What more can you ask for?"

"--and I'm telling you, brother, university women are like hmm--"

He pinched his thumb and fingers together in one hand, placed them against his lips, and blew them away.

"--ripe Sangiovese on the vine."

I could not help but laugh at how ridiculous he looked and how ridiculous his expression was.

"You laughing? I'm being serious here."

"You do know I'm not into women right now."

"Never too late for that," he said laughing. "Well, go on and get going, kid."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm going, I'm going."

As I stick my head out the wagon, with both my hands holding the leather curtains of the entrance, my face was immediately greeted by the cool post-rain countryside breeze coming from the meadow and the smell of wet grass had seeped its way into my nose. The air felt moist and a faint drizzle of rain was still present. The wad of hair that normally covered the rest of my face was pushed back by the wind, exposing my forehead, and a plethora of tiny needle-like rain droplets started nuking the skin on my face like a barrage of arrows. My eyes couldn't help but squint when they came in contact with the glare of the sun; forcing me to place my hand up against my brow to shield my eyes from the disorienting light, which obscured my vision, making the meadow seem like an awfully blurry and ambiguous painting done by a nineteenth century impressionist. It looked as if it was divided into two portions; with the upper half painted pastel blue with white spots, that looked very much like pulled apart cotton balls, splattered all over it. While a whole mess of green, several shades of the color, occupied the remaining half. Soon after, my eyes, still narrowed, started to gradually adjust and the impression of the meadow became clearer, and more and more like a product of realism. I was stunned by the beauty it held before my now dilated eyes. The lush brilliant green fields looked even greener than how they used to look like before the rain. The grass seemed as if they were glistening just below the ocean of blue that appeared drifting without direction right above them--sparkling like a green bottle of ice-cold sprite held out under the sun, allowing the light to bounce off its damp glass surface giving it the ability to shine green. They were set swaying by the gentle spring breeze. Meanwhile, up above, long streaks of clouds meandered across the blue canvas, and each and every one of them, from time to time, separated from its original cluster, forming smaller and shorter streaks that gradually dispersed and then faded into nothing. Just beyond the vast blanket of green, beyond the grove, the rice fields stood out, in which their golden appearance, signifying that they are ready for harvest, complemented the green. Small segments of different roofs of different colors, mostly just the chimneys and ridges, poked out upwards from the other side of the trees and both the church and bell tower stood stoically and unveiled. The bell tower cupola, that often appeared worn out, which it was, and grimy, caught the light of the sun and spangled magnificently, along with the old bell that hung hidden within the belfry. Never had I seen it that beautiful in my entire life. That was the first time that I saw it glitter with such beauty and I tell you, reader, what a view it was. I was frozen for a moment with my eyes fixed on the painting that I saw. It felt as if I was being sanctified--my body cleansed of all negative elements. The voices had gone. The weight I felt on both my head and shoulders went away, and they felt as if they were up in the clouds. I was oblivious of everything that was happening inside and around me--even unaware that the crying of frogs had died down. Every part of me that time was in a state of calm and peace.

"Amazing!" I said inside my head. "How long will I have to wait before I get to see this view again? I promise to return to this work of art, and I promise that I will return to you, Mama."

I proceeded to step out the wagon, carrying my luggage with both hands, stepping out with one foot before the other, and followed my foot, as I planted it onto the wet cobblestone, was a faint splash of rain water that accumulated into a small puddle where my foot had landed. I let out a long, deep breath that seemed as if it had emitted smoke. The brisk air had turned my breath into vapor, and, albeit having a coat on, felt the temperature go through the fabric of my garments. The air was refreshingly cool and the atmosphere overall, as I have said, was exceptionally serene. Everything was quiet... just the soothing sound of the breeze and the gentle swishing of the long grass, and the clicking of footsteps accompanied by subtle splashes were able to be heard. Still captivated by the view, Roman had silently made his way behind me unnoticed. The sudden placement of his hand on my left shoulder made me shudder and almost made me jump off the ground out of fright.

"Holy crap, brother!" I shouted, and with a pathetic voice said, "Don't go scaring me like that, Roma... You almost gave me a heart attack."

"Mira, my brother," he laughed, transferring his hand from my left shoulder to my right. "I thought you were no longer the little Mira back in prep school. Wait, let me catch my breath, brother," he then extended and slid his right arm out over my right shoulder and pulled me closer while laughing hysterically and comically slapping his left thigh with his other hand. "I cannot... I seriously cannot stop... laughing... I truly cannot, brother!"

"You scared the living hell out of me, Roma."

"Quite a pleasant breeze, wouldn't you agree, brother?" he said, having calmed down but a lively smile was still on his face. "Nothing says 'beauty' better than Khorolutsk after the rain, eh?"

"Yes," I nodded. "Pretty convenient for the rain to die down before we had arrived."

"The rain really did just pass by only to give you a soaking wet farewell."

We stood silently, both gazing at the glimmering town from afar.

"Do you think... when I come back... would this view still look the same, Roma?" I asked. "Will those trees that make up the grove still be there? Will the bell tower still be standing?"

He leaned forward to look at me, with his arm still over my shoulder, "How long will you be out of town, brother? A year? Two? Perhaps three?"

"Four. I'm going to be away for four years."

"Four, eh?" he said crossing his arms. "Quite a long time, but I'm sure you'll manage, brother. As for your questions... yes, I believe that all this--everything that you see here--all this will still be here waiting for you."

My response was simply a nod.

"What classes are you taking again? Was it biology or was it law? I heard Nikita Vasiliev talking about it the other day, I'm just unable to remember what it was exactly."

"Medicine, Roma. I'm taking medicine."

"Medicine? Are you sick?"

"No, brother," with a cheerful grin on my face, raising my hand and placing it on his right shoulder, gently patting. "The classes I am going to be taking, brother--the classes I am going to be taking are for my studies in medicine. I'm sure mother have had, at least once, told you about me being a doctor."

"Once or twice, if memory serves me right. Madam Anna takes pride in you, brother. She talks about you almost every time when she comes to our house to visit mother. I would sit on the stairs and listen to them talk about various subjects, which was most often about you."

"Never knew you were into eavesdropping, Roma."

"How very callous of you, brother, to call it eavesdropping. It's only natural for me to listen to my best friend's mother talk about him, and it so happens that I quite enjoy listening while seated on the staircase. Speaking of Madam Anna visiting, how come you no longer come with her? You used to go with her on weekends when we were younger, brother... Do you not miss spending time with your best friend?" he laughed. "Do you not miss me, brother?"

"Oh, spare me the sarcasm, brother," I said with an exaggeratedly satirical tone. "I swear I will break your nose."

We stood on the rise laughing with the breeze against our youthful faces.

"How very callous of you indeed, brother!"

END OF CHAPTER