It was 6:01 pm. Simon was walking along the path, deeply immersed in his thoughts. He just couldn't let go of the situation with the letter and the dream he had. In this state of mind, he walked all the way to town. And he was shaken out of this pensive state by a car that whizzed by and the shouts of its driver. 

 

-"WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING! ARE YOU SICK OF LIVING!?"

 

Simon gloomily watched the car disappear into the distance, sighed heavily, and continued on. Simon crossed the bridge and turning left at the intersection, and headed down the street where Tom and Alan's houses were located. Tom's house was almost at the very end, or to be precise, it was the second from the end on the left side of the street, and Alan's house was the fifth.

 

And so Simon was standing in front of Tom's house. It was an unremarkable two-story white house with a black roof. The lawn was surrounded by a small brick fence, and in the middle was a black metal gate. Simon opened the gate, entered the yard and looked around. Nothing had changed. On the left there was a small round white table and wooden chairs of the same color. On the right near the house there was a small pond with plastic ducks swimming in it. And in the center there was a concrete path laid out.  

 

After surveying the yard, Simon headed for the door. Going up the concrete steps, he rang the doorbell. Behind the door there were rapidly approaching footsteps, and after a minute the door opened, and there was Tom, holding a loaf of bread with a small plate of salt on it.

 

"Tom... are you serious right now?" Simon said, looking at Tom in bewilderment.  

 

"Well, what does it look like?" Tom said with a smile.

 

"I see that you've partially managed to recreate the image of a Russian Slav," Simon said, crossing his arms and looking at Tom with a stone face.

 

"I'll take that as a compliment" Tom replied with a small chuckle. 

 

"Since when have you become interested in Slavs?"

 

"Who told you I started getting interested in Slavs? I just read in a history book that the Russian people in very ancient times were very hospitable, and when meeting guests they would treat them with bread and salt. The book called it hospitality - a cordial treat, willingness to receive guests, entertain them, keep an open table and give lavish dinners."

 

Simon sighed and said, "Well thank you for the history lesson."

 

-I'm always happy to share knowledge.

 

Simon continued to look at Tom with a stone face and Tom looked at Simon with an undying smile, so they stood like that for about 3 minutes until Tom said.

 

-So, are you planning to come in? Or will you just stand here like a statue, drilling me with your gaze?

 

Tom stepped to the right and extended his hand into the hallway, inviting Simon into the house. Simon went in, undressed and took off his down vest, and Tom closed the door and ushered Simon into the hall.

 

Simon sat down on the white sofa and Tom went to the kitchen, but when he got to the kitchen door he turned to Simon and asked him?

 

-Simon, what are you going to drink? 

 

Simon inquired, "What do you have?"

 

-"Well, look, I've got tea, coffee, lemonade, cocoa," Tom replied.

 

- Can I have some cocoa, please?

 

-Yeah, sure, with or without marshmallows?

 

-With marshmallows, please.

 

-Okay then, I'm off. -Said Tom and he headed for the kitchen.

 

When Simon was alone, he looked around the room he was in.

 

It was a spacious room, with a panoramic window on the right side of the entrance, offering a view of the street. To the right of the window, there were shelves filled with books. The Tom family had a deep love for reading. His father, mother, grandfather, and even his grandmother were all avid readers. Tom was no exception. Their home was filled with bookshelves, and at times, it seemed like they had even more books than the city library.

 

Books could be found in almost every room - in Tom's room, in his father's study, in the parents' bedroom, and they even had a small library in the basement. The only places without books were the bathroom and the toilet, although, wait a minute, there was a small shelf with books in the toilet too. Their house was more than just a home; it was a veritable repository of knowledge.

 

So I digress? In the room opposite Simon's, there was a small glass table with two white armchairs behind it. On the floor, there lay a large oval rug of brown color with intricate yet beautiful patterns. To the right of the entrance to the room, there was a small table with a gramophone, and nearby, a basket filled with vinyl records.

 

When Simon had finished looking around the room, he noticed a stack of magazines on the table across from Simon, and he rummaged through it for a moment.

 

In there were magazines about politics, scientific achievements, cars and, of course, a women's fashion magazine, where would it be without it.

 

As soon as Simon finished flipping through the magazines, Tom emerged from the kitchen carrying a metal tray with cocoa, napkins, and a plate of delicious oatmeal cookies.

 

Tom placed the tray on the table and sat in the chair across from Simon.

 

"Well, Simon, bon appétit," Tom said, taking a cocoa mug in his right hand and an oatmeal cookie in his left.

 

Simon looked at Tom happily enjoying the cocoa and oatmeal cookies, and then he himself took a mug of cocoa and cookies. He looked at the marshmallows floating in his mug and froze, he sadly looked at how the marshmallows swirling around in the mug.

 

Tom was already on his third cookie and halfway through his cocoa when he paused and looked at Simon, who continued to gaze into his mug.

 

Setting down his cocoa mug, Tom grabbed a napkin, wiped his mouth, and began to watch Simon. He was curious how long Simon would keep staring into his cocoa. Tom sat there for eight minutes but couldn't take it any longer.

 

"Simon, if you keep staring at the cocoa, it's not going to drink itself," Tom said.

 

Simon tore his gaze away from the cocoa and looked at Tom.

 

"Though, wait, I know what you want to do. You want to heat up the cocoa with the power of your mind," Tom said with a small chuckle.

 

Simon continued to look at Tom with a melancholic expression.

 

The smile on Tom's face disappeared, and he looked at Simon with concern as he asked, "Is all of this because of the letter, isn't it?"

 

Simon averted his gaze from Tom, but Tom persisted.

 

"Tell me honestly, is Miranda more than just a friend to you?"

 

This question left Simon in a state of confusion.

 

"What! No, I mean, she's a friend to me, but not more than that. Well, wait, she is a friend, a good friend."

 

"Best friend," Tom interrupted Simon.

 

"Yes, but, but..."

 

"But what?" Tom asked.

 

"...I...I miss her," Simon said with a touch of sadness in his voice.

 

"I partly understand how that feels, losing your best friend," Tom admitted.

 

"Really?"

 

"Yes, you see, a long time ago, even before I moved to this city, I had a best friend in another city. Her name was Pyra, and we had so much together. We loved reading, strolling in the woods, listening to classical music, and collecting beautiful stones. Those were wonderful times. But then my father got a promotion and had to work at a different company, and it was far away. So, we had to move. Pyra and I agreed to send each other letters and talk on the phone often, but... then she had to move too. I never found out why she had to leave, and never found out her number or postal address."

 

"Oh, that's... sad," Simon said.

 

"Well, it is what it is," Tom replied.

 

For a couple of minutes, silence hung in the air as Tom and Simon sat quietly, avoiding each other's gaze. Tom eventually broke the silence.

 

"I vividly remember the moment I realized my connection with Pyra was lost. I was deeply upset, a heavy stone of sadness in my heart. But even so, I tried to remember only the happy moments of our friendship."

 

Simon looked at Tom with a sense of confusion, and Tom sighed heavily.

 

"Simon, I understand what it's like to lose a close friend, and I don't want to downplay your problem. But if you give up on yourself, it won't magically bring Miranda back, and it won't do you any good either."

 

Simon lowered his head and contemplated Tom's words. Tom continued.

 

"Simon, we want to help you. I want to help you."

 

Simon raised his head, thought for a moment, and said, "You're right. Me giving up won't change anything, and it'll only make things worse."

 

Tom smiled at Simon and said.

 

Here is my attempt at translating the Russian story into more natural English:

 

Tom was glad that Simon understood, and now, if he didn't mind, they could continue drinking hot cocoa. 

 

Tom took his mug of cocoa, oatmeal cookie, and began to eat. Simon also took a mug with a cookie and cocoa, and began to eat. The cocoa was simply delicious - such a tender taste of chocolate and marshmallow that melted in your mouth, and combined with the oatmeal cookie it was just something special, from such a combination Simon almost melted with pleasure.

 

Having finished the meal, Tom and Simon leaned back into the soft embrace of their chairs and they both smiled. 

 

"This cocoa with cookies was simply delightful," said Simon, looking up at the ceiling. 

 

"So delightful it beats your favorite ice cream," Tom said with a chuckle, looking at Simon.

 

"Haha no of course not, but this combination was close to it," said Simon. 

 

"Haha I see," said Tom.

 

They continued lying in their chairs, thinking about something of their own - Tom thought about when they would deliver his piano, and Simon was immersed in his memories with Miranda. They were so colorful and bright, Simon was glad he had such a good friend. Of course deep down he still felt some sadness, but it was not as big anymore. So Tom and Simon lay there for about 10 minutes until Tom suggested an idea.

 

"Simon, what do you think about going out and getting some fresh air?"

 

"I'm all for it," Simon answered. 

 

"Well then, get up and let's go get dressed," said Tom.

 

Tom and Simon got up and went to get dressed. Simon went to put on his down vest, while Tom went upstairs to his room. After putting on the vest, Simon went upstairs to Tom's room. Upon entering, Simon saw Tom rummaging through his closet looking for suitable clothes. Glancing around the room, Simon didn't notice anything new. To the right was a window with a protruding windowsill that doubled as a small sofa. To the right of that stood a bookshelf and a nightstand with a gramophone. To the left in the room was a desk with a typewriter and other neatly arranged writing implements. To the right on the wall was a closet with clothes. Near the wall across from the entrance to the room stood a neatly made bed, and on the floor lay a white carpet.

 

After rummaging through the closet, Tom put on his favorite brown alpaca coat and a gray plaid scarf.

 

As they descended downstairs, Tom and Simon began to put on their shoes when suddenly Tom quickly took off his shoes and rushed to the kitchen.

 

"I almost forgot," Tom said, coming back from the kitchen with a small bag of bread.

 

"Why do you need bread, Tom?" Simon asked in confusion.

 

"Well, to feed the birds, and maybe the ducks if we're lucky," Tom replied.

 

“I see, but by the way, where are we going for a walk?” Simon asked, and Tom answered him.

 

"I suggest going to the lake. What about you?"

 

"Well, I don't have any ideas, so let's go to the lake," Simon said.

 

“Well then, let’s not waste time, because it’s already 19:09 on the clock,” Tom said.

 

Simon nodded, and when Tom put on his walking shoes, they left the house together.

 

Leaving the house, Tom locked the door, and leaving the yard, our friends headed straight to the lake.

 

The path to the lake was very close, literally, to the right of the house at the end of the street. It led through a small forest straight to the lake.

 

And now, just a few minutes later, Tom and Simon were walking along the forest path, surrounded by mighty trees. Their crowns merged into a multifaceted yellow-orange glow, and the air was so pure that when you breathed it in, all the worry and tension you had felt diminished many times over, or even lifted off your shoulders like a stone.

 

The sounds of the city slowly faded away, giving way only to the crunch of fallen leaves and branches underfoot. With each step in the forest, there was more tranquility. Time seemed frozen here, as if a moment had turned into eternity. Suddenly, Simon glanced at Tom's wristwatch and noticed that the hands had long stopped, as if they had fallen under a spell of endless instant harmony. He immediately informed Tom:

 

"Tom, your watch has stopped."

 

Tom raised his hand and looked at the watch.

 

"Yes, they've indeed stopped, although I wound them up not too long ago," Tom said, winding his wristwatch.

 

After winding their watches, the friends continued their journey to the lake.

 

Upon reaching the lake, Tom and Simon stopped to admire the beauty of nature. The lake was large and, unlike the river, it was clean. In the summer, children and their parents enjoyed swimming and fun here.

 

Tom and Simon watched as night fell, which was the time when the lake was usually empty.

 

"Simon, let's go and sit on the bench," Tom suggested.

 

"Yes, let's," Simon replied.

 

Sitting on the bench, Tom and Simon began to enjoy the tranquility of Mother Nature and the beauty of the lake. Suddenly, Tom noticed two pigeons nearby, searching for food in the grass near the lake. Tom took out a bag of bread from his left pocket, opened it, tore small pieces of bread, and tossed it to the birds. At first, they were frightened and moved away, but after a minute, they approached and started to eat. Then three more pigeons flew to them, and a little later, four more pigeons arrived. Tom smiled as he watched the birds and continued to toss them crumbs, while Simon sat there, gazing at the lake without paying attention to Tom feeding the birds or two guys on the opposite side of the river.

 

When Tom ran out of bread, the birds lingered near the bench for a while and then flew away. Tom watched some of the birds with a smile before taking out binoculars from his right pocket to observe them more closely. Meanwhile, Simon unzipped his down vest and took a necklace that hung around his neck. He examined it closely, and it wasn't just beautiful; it was exquisite. After finishing his examination, Simon released the necklace, and it landed on his chest. Simon buttoned up his vest and continued to gaze at the lake. Suddenly, Tom began to chuckle softly, which piqued Simon's interest.

 

"Why are you laughing, Tom? Did you remember some joke?" Simon asked.

 

"No, not really. I just find it amusing to watch those guys on the opposite shore," Tom said.

 

"What's so amusing about them?" Simon asked in confusion.

 

"Take a look for yourself," Tom said, handing the binoculars to Simon.

 

Simon took the binoculars and looked across the opposite shore. There, he saw two guys he had seen before. One of them was heading down to the water, with black hair and tanned skin. The other guy, standing slightly higher up on the bank, also had black hair but was not as tanned. He was saying something to the guy who was heading down to the lake.

 

"Well, Simon, move your eye over; I want to see too," Tom said.

 

Simon adjusted the binoculars to his left eye, so Tom ended up looking through the left tube of the binoculars while Simon used the right one.

 

And then, the guy who was reaching into the water stopped, squatted down, and dipped his right hand into the water. The guy standing higher up on the bank descended and started holding onto his friend's shirt.

 

"Hmm, what are they looking for?" Simon asked.

 

"I don't know, but they were arguing about something before this" Tom replied.

 

Suddenly, the ground beneath the guy with his hand in the water gave way, and he found himself with one foot in the lake. Panic ensued among the two guys. The one who fell was barely holding on while squatting, but fortunately, his friend was gripping onto his shirt, preventing him from falling into the water. The guy who had fallen in the water managed to get out, albeit without his shoe, and the two of them burst into laughter, just like Tom and Simon.

 

"Hahaha, how's he going to go home without a shoe?" Tom exclaimed.

 

"Haha, you probably meant to say 'hobble,' right?" Simon chuckled.

 

"Haha, exactly," Tom replied.

 

Simon and Tom continued to peer through the binoculars. The guy who had lost his shoe squatted down again and dipped his hand into the water. After a minute, he pulled his muddy shoe out from under the water. Holding onto his friend, he hopped on one foot.

 

The two guys disappeared from view, leaving our friends with nothing but smiles.

 

"On one hand, I feel sorry for the guy who lost his shoe, but on the other hand, this is just hilarious," Tom remarked.

 

"Yeah, no arguing with that," Simon agreed.

 

"Well, you can always argue, but being right in an argument isn't always possible," Tom said with a wise look.

 

Simon rolled his eyes and smiled. Tom liked to show off his knowledge, and he enjoyed using allegories, philosophizing on various topics, and speaking in wise phrases.

 

Tom and Simon continued to sit on the bench, silently gazing at the lake, lost in thought, until Tom broke the silence. He took a deep breath and, upon exhaling, said.

 

"Oh, this lake is truly impressive with its natural elegance. The silence here is simply overwhelming, and the atmosphere is permeated with the purity of the air. And to think that, if not for this majestic lake, perhaps our meeting with you and Nate wouldn't have happened," Tom said gracefully.

 

And it's true, without this lake, Tom probably wouldn't have met Nate and Simon.

 

"Well, that's the truth," Simon agreed.

 

"Indeed, my friend," Tom said.

 

A quiet fell upon them, with only the crickets pleasantly chirping their melody. It was almost nighttime, and our friends continued to sit and enjoy the nocturnal tranquility until Tom broke the silence once more.

 

"Simon... do you remember the day we became friends?"

 

"Of course, I remember. That's something impossible to forget."

 

Yeah... that's definitely impossible to forget.

It happened ten years ago, when spring was just beginning its triumphant march. The bright sun illuminated the street, penetrating through the white clouds, but despite its gentle rays, the air still retained the cold breath of winter. The snow, like a soft blanket, covered the ground, not in a hurry to melt under the influence of the first warm rays.

Tom, wrapped in a layer of warm clothing, and taking a shoulder bag with him, decided to go for a walk in the forest. Maybe you will ask me a question: how did they let such a little boy walk alone in the forest? But I have an answer for you. In this forest, where Tom liked to walk, there were no wild animals. They preferred to live in another forest, surrounded by a massive stone fence. Besides, Tom did not go far from his home.

 

So, let's continue our story. Tom calmly walked through the forest, completely immersing himself in its mysterious atmosphere. He had moved to this town only three months ago, but in that time he had managed to explore every path and every tree in this forest. He wandered among the natural beauties, enjoying every moment.

 

And then, at one beautiful moment, his gaze fell on two children who were walking down the hill on which Tom was. One of them was red-haired and with freckles on his face, and the other - with thick dark brown hair, he was taller than his friend and he dragged a cart behind him, full of mysterious objects, incomprehensible to Tom.

 

-Come on Simon, hurry up, we'll be here until evening

 

-It's easy for you to say Nate, you'd better take and help me drag all your filming props.

 

-Oh, sorry, I'll help you now.

 

-Come on! You only decided to help me now

 

-Sorry I got carried away by thoughts of filming.

 

Tom watched them and went for a walk further.

Tom opened his shoulder bag and took out a book that his parents had bought him very recently, and which he dreamed of reading. It was tightly packed in a transparent plastic bag, and on the cover was a promising title-"Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea", oh, it was just a wonderful feeling, when you walk through the forest and read the description on the back of the book. It's like when you bought a new game in the video game store, and on the back of the box with the disc you read what awaits you after installing the game on your computer, and also this smell from the box with the disc, it's just an unforgettable smell, there are rumors that you can feel it by looking at a picture on which a box from discs is depicted. I don't know if this is true or not. If this is true then write to me. Okay, sorry for distracting you, so. Tom walked and in anticipation read the description of the book. And suddenly an old bridge stood in his way, it stood out very much among the exquisite forest landscapes, with its gloominess. It was very old and dilapidated, but there were never any accidents on it. The local gang of teenagers gave it a name-"Murphy's Bridge", they say, if you are afraid that the boards will break under you, then they will definitely do it, and if you crossed the bridge, it meant that you are going to your goal without being afraid of anything or anyone on your way. Once upon a time, a river flowed beneath this bridge, but over time it dried up, leaving a 5-meter gap between the bridge and the ground.

Tom had never crossed this bridge before. Every time he looked at it, a ghost of fear would creep into his young mind, filling him with terrifying thoughts of what could happen if he dared to cross it. Considering that Tom was only 7 years old at the time, his childlike imagination amplified this fear manifold. But this time, engrossed in reading the description of a book, Tom’s survival instinct failed to alert him as he unknowingly started walking across the bridge. He walked calmly until he reached the middle of the bridge, where he decided to look up from his book and see where he was going. The moment Tom realized he was on the old bridge, he was filled with horror. He stood frozen in fear as the planks beneath him creaked ominously. Tom thought that the planks were about to break under his weight, and as soon as this thought crossed his mind, it was as if the ghost of fear had pressed down on him, breaking the planks beneath him and causing Tom to fall. But just in time, his small hands grabbed onto an iron bar that had previously held the planks. And there he hung from the bridge. Paralyzed by fear, Tom clung to the bar so tightly that it seemed as if he would become one with it. The bar was cold and Tom’s hands began to slowly freeze. Tom tried to pull himself up and grab another bar higher up, but he didn’t have enough strength. Then, in his loudest childlike voice, Tom called for help.

“SOMEONE HELP!”

“PLEASE!”

Tom continued to scream until his voice became hoarse. But no one heard him; he had ventured too far into the forest, so far that the chances of anyone hearing him were extremely slim.

Tom’s hands were almost numb, and he no longer felt the cold. Tom didn’t stop trying to pull himself out of this situation, but his strength was almost gone. And when Tom realized the hopelessness of his situation, he lowered his head and cried. Was this how it was going to end? Was this how his life would end?

Tom looked into the abyss above him and refused to believe that in a few moments, he would be at the bottom.

Tom continued to look down until he heard voices nearby.

“Simon, I’m telling you, I heard someone calling for help.”

“Nate, maybe you just imagined it.”

“No, Simon, I didn’t imagine it. I definitely heard someone calling for help.”

Hearing human voices nearby, a flame of hope ignited in Tom and he shouted as loudly as he could.

“I’M HERE ON THE BRIDGE! HELP!”

Then there were the sounds of rapidly approaching footsteps. Tom couldn’t see who was approaching because they were in his blind spot. But then a boy with red hair and freckles on his face appeared from the right side of the bridge. As soon as he saw Tom, he shouted and called his friend!

"Simon! There's a boy hanging from the bridge!"

 

His friend ran over and as soon as he saw Tom hanging from the bridge, he said,

 

"Oh my God! Hang on! We'll think of something!"

 

"HURRY UP! I CAN'T HOLD ON MUCH LONGER!"

 

Tom tightened his grip even more. No, today was not the end of his story, not today would Tom meet the grim reaper.

 

"Simon, what are you thinking! Don't go on the bridge!"

 

Hearing this, Tom's heart nearly stopped, praying that the planks wouldn't break under the boy. Tom looked up and saw Simon carefully walking along the iron beam that Tom was hanging from. Simon, holding onto the railing with one hand, crouched down and grabbed Tom's hand and pulled him up with all his might. Tom grabbed onto the railing and soon stood on the iron beam.

 

"Now we just walk slowly and carefully," Simon said.

 

He and Tom slowly made their way back along the iron beam.

 

As soon as the children were on solid ground, Tom crouched down to catch his breath. Nate ran over to Simon and Tom and asked,

 

"Are you okay, kid?"

 

Catching his breath, Tom replied,

 

"I'm okay, just my hands are cold."

 

Nate took off his warm hat and handed it to Tom.

 

"Here, this should help you warm up."

 

Tom took Nate's hat and put his hands in it. It was warm, and Tom's hands quickly stopped being cold. Taking off the hat from his hands, Tom returned it to Nate and moving closer to our friends, hugged them and said,

 

"Thank you so much! If it weren't for you, I can't even imagine what would have happened to me."

 

Nate and Simon also hugged Tom. Then Simon said,

 

"We're glad you're safe and unharmed."

 

After they stopped hugging, Nate asked Tom,

“By the way, what’s your name?”

“My name is Tom, and as I understand it, your name is Nate, and your friend’s name is Simon.”

“Yep, that’s right, and nice to meet you, Tom,” said Nate.

“Nice to meet you too,” said Simon.

And suddenly Tom remembered that he had seen our friends before and was curious about what they were doing?

“By the way, what were you doing at the bottom of the hill?”

“We were filming our movie in the old castle,” said Simon.

“A movie? What movie?” asked Tom.

“Well, Nate and I like to make movies with his Panaflex 1972 camera. It’s a really cool camera, it can shoot in color and with sound,” said Simon.

“Yes, that’s true. My father gave it to me for my birthday. I love everything related to cinema,” said Nate.

“And what kind of movie were you filming?” asked Tom.

“Well, it was our own script. We came up with a story about friends who end up in a parallel world where there is magic and dragons. They have to save the princess from an evil wizard and return home,” said Nate.

“Wow, that sounds really interesting! Can I watch your movie?” asked Tom.

“Of course, we’d be happy to show you our movie. But it’s not ready yet, we need to shoot the last scene in the castle,” said Simon.

“In the castle?” asked Tom in surprise.

“Yes, there’s a very old small castle here nearby. It was of course occupied by teenagers, but for a bag of candy that Simon and I collected on Halloween, we agreed that we would temporarily take over the castle,” said Nate.

“Wow, I’ve been living here for 3 months now and I’ve never heard of an old castle,” said Tom in surprise.

“Well now you know about our old castle,” said Simon.

“Can I go with you? I really want to see how you make a movie,” said Tom.

“Of course, we’d be happy to have you on our team. You can be our cameraman or actor,” said Nate.

“Yes, that would be great! Thank you guys!” said Tom.

And so began the friendship between Tom, Nate, and Simon. They started meeting often to make movies, play games, and talk about their interests. They were very different, but that’s what made their friendship so interesting and engaging. They always supported each other and helped in difficult situations. This is certainly a pleasant memory, but let’s go back to 1987.

Tom and Simon were returning to their homes, admiring the beauty of the night forest along the way. Bright stars began to appear in the sky, and the moon was in its third quarter. The city was slowly going to sleep, shops were closing down, no more car noise could be heard, children’s laughter was not heard either; only crickets played their evening melody. At this time in the city it was quiet and peaceful. Simon and Tom walked through the forest in silence until Tom broke this silence.

“I’ve had many bright moments in my life: When my father gave me a gramophone when I met Pirai when I first read a book about Jules Verne’s adventures and when I met you gentlemen. If it weren’t for you guys I’d be sitting at home right now dying of boredom listening to classical music and typing my story.”

Simon looked at Tom in surprise and asked,

“And I thought you liked listening to classical music and writing your story.”

Tom smiled and said,

“I like writing my story and listening to classical music but I do all this in moderation. In my free time I try to spend time with you guys walk around and do many other things. But the most important thing of all is the time spent with you guys. To be honest you are the only ones in the whole school with whom it is pleasant to talk and spend time with. The first three months in this city I tried to find friends but our interests and goals were completely different and it was hard for me to find a common language with them. But with you gentlemen it’s nice to spend time talk to you guys and with you guys my life has become much more interesting and diverse Alan opened new horizons for me in music Nate introduced me to a large number of film genres and you Simon are a pleasant and kind person with whom it is very pleasant to talk And who else but you gentlemen are an incredible source of inspiration.”

 

Simon was pleased with these words. All those ten years of our company’s friendship were filled with many funny and hilarious situations, I won’t list them, because we already have a large chronometer.

Coming out of the forest, our friends headed to Tom’s house, when suddenly a window opened from the house on the right, and a radio flew out of it, which fell right at the feet of Tom and Simon. They got scared and looked at where it came from and a man appeared from the window who shouted down the street.

“DARN LOSERS! TO LOSE WITH A SCORE OF 34-60! HOW IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE!”

The man closed the window and grumbled as he went to another room, turning off the light along the way.

“I never understood why people get so upset over sports?” Tom said in bewilderment.

“Me neither,” Simon said.

Simon picked up the broken radio and carried it with him. Tom looked at Simon in bewilderment and asked,

“Why do you need a broken radio?”

Simon turned to Tom and answered him.

“I could use some spare parts.”

“Ahhh, I see,” Tom replied.

Simon walked Tom to his house. And they didn’t expect to see Tom’s father’s car at all, it was a white 1970 Cadillac.

“I thought my dad would only come next weekend,” said Tom

Our friends said goodbye, and when Simon was not far from his friend’s house, he suddenly called out to him.

“Simon wait! You forgot your soldering kit that you left at my place on Thursday!”

Hearing this, Simon returned to Tom’s house. He gave him his soldering kit, said goodbye again and were about to leave, but suddenly an unhappy speech from Tom’s father came from the hall.

Simon was pleased with these words. All those ten years of our company’s friendship were filled with many funny and hilarious situations, I won’t list them, because we already have a large chronometer.

Coming out of the forest, our friends headed to Tom’s house, when suddenly a window opened from the house on the right, and a radio flew out of it, which fell right at the feet of Tom and Simon. They got scared and looked at where it came from and a man appeared from the window who shouted down the street.

“DARN LOSERS! TO LOSE WITH A SCORE OF 34-60! HOW IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE!”

The man closed the window and grumbled as he went to another room, turning off the light along the way.

“I never understood why people get so upset over sports?” Tom said in bewilderment.

“Me neither,” Simon said.

Simon picked up the broken radio and carried it with him. Tom looked at Simon in bewilderment and asked,

“Why do you need a broken radio?”

Simon turned to Tom and answered him.

“I could use some spare parts.”

“Ahhh, I see,” Tom replied.

Simon walked Tom to his house. And they didn’t expect to see Tom’s father’s car at all, it was a white 1970 Cadillac.

“I thought my dad would only come next weekend,” said Tom

Our friends said goodbye, and when Simon was not far from his friend’s house, he suddenly called out to him.

“Simon wait! You forgot your soldering kit that you left at my place on Thursday!”

Hearing this, Simon returned to Tom’s house. He gave him his soldering kit, said goodbye again and were about to leave, but suddenly an unhappy speech from Tom’s father came from the hall.

“You heretic! You were working just today!” Tom’s father said with full indignation in his voice.

Simon and Tom entered the hall to find out what had caused such indignation in Tom’s father. He was kneeling next to a vinyl player and muttering something to himself.

“What happened, Dad?” Tom asked.

“Well, my favorite stopped working, and I was just about to listen to the song ‘So What’ by Miles Davis.”

“Oh, that’s very sad,” said Tom.

“Yeah, but nothing can be done, I’ll take it for repair tomorrow,” said Tom’s father.

Simon looked at the broken player of the Gold family - it was a Dual CS 5000, which had a very elegant design with a walnut case. It was one of the first players with three rotation speeds: 33, 45 and 78 revolutions per minute. It had a belt drive, electronic speed control and fully automatic control. This wonderful player came to Mr. Lazlo from his close friend Frank Roliker. Simon thought for a moment and asked.

“Can I look at its insides?”

Tom’s father looked at Simon in bewilderment.

“Sorry, young man, but what do you want to look at?”

“The internal device of your player, sir.”

Tom’s father thought, twirled his mustache and gave Simon permission.

“Well, look.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Simon.

Putting the broken radio on the floor, Simon approached the table where the vinyl player stood and squatted down. After examining the player from the outside, Simon turned to Tom and said.

“Tom, could you please bring a screwdriver and a flashlight.”

“Yes, of course.”

“You heretic! You were working just today!” Tom’s father said with full indignation in his voice.

Simon and Tom entered the hall to find out what had caused such indignation in Tom’s father. He was kneeling next to a vinyl player and muttering something to himself.

“What happened, Dad?” Tom asked.

“Well, my favorite stopped working, and I was just about to listen to the song ‘So What’ by Miles Davis.”

“Oh, that’s very sad,” said Tom.

“Yeah, but nothing can be done, I’ll take it for repair tomorrow,” said Tom’s father.

Simon looked at the broken player of the Gold family - it was a Dual CS 5000, which had a very elegant design with a walnut case. It was one of the first players with three rotation speeds: 33, 45 and 78 revolutions per minute. It had a belt drive, electronic speed control and fully automatic control. This wonderful player came to Mr. Lazlo from his close friend Frank Roliker. Simon thought for a moment and asked.

“Can I look at its insides?”

Tom’s father looked at Simon in bewilderment.

“Sorry, young man, but what do you want to look at?”

“The internal device of your player, sir.”

Tom’s father thought, twirled his mustache and gave Simon permission.

“Well, look.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Simon.

Putting the broken radio on the floor, Simon approached the table where the vinyl player stood and squatted down. After examining the player from the outside, Simon turned to Tom and said.

“Tom, could you please bring a screwdriver and a flashlight.”

“Yes, of course.”

Tom went to the garage and soon returned with a screwdriver and a flashlight. Simon took them and began to unscrew the cover of the player. He carefully removed it and put it on the table. Then he turned on the flashlight and illuminated the insides of the player. He saw that the motor was clogged with dust and overheating. He also noticed that the control and power boards were damaged.

“Did you figure out what the problem is?” Tom asked.

“The motor is clogged with dust and overheated. And the boards need to be replaced,” Simon said.

“Is it serious?” asked Tom’s father.

“Well, not quite,” Simon replied. “I think I can fix it.”

“You can?” Tom’s father was surprised.

“Yes, sir. I have everything I need for this. I found a broken radio on the street, which has the necessary parts. I can use parts from it. It won’t be a perfect solution, but it should work.”

“Well, if you’re so sure, then I don’t mind,” said Tom’s father. “Just be careful with my player. It’s an expensive thing.”

“Don’t worry, sir. I’ll be very careful,” Simon promised.

He stood up and went to the radio he had brought with him. He disassembled it and took out the necessary parts from it. Then he returned to the player and began to replace the damaged components. He pulled out the motor and cleaned it from dust. He disconnected the control and power boards and replaced them with others.

Tom’s father stood aside and watched as Simon repaired his player. From his point of view, it looked as if Simon was not repairing a receiver, but operating on a critically ill patient into whom he was transplanting donor organs. Simon handled the soldering iron, parts, and wires of the player as skillfully as a highly qualified surgeon with a scalpel, organs, and vessels of his patient.

Simon carefully connected all the wires and checked the connections. After inspecting everything, Simon put the cover of the player in place. Then he turned on the player and tried to start it.

The player worked. The motor ran without noise and overheating. The control and power boards provided the correct voltage and signal. Simon put a record with Tom’s father’s favorite music on the player and pressed the start button.

Music filled the room. The sound was clear and loud. Looking at the fruits of his labor, Simon smiled.

Tom’s father was amazed, he approached the player and switched all the speeds, everything was working normally. Tom’s father was incredibly happy, his beloved receiver was healthy. He walked up to Simon, shook his hand and said,

“Thank you very much, young man! If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy music today.”

Simon was pleased with these words, he was proud of himself and his skills in handling technology.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Lazlo, I’m always happy to help,” said Simon.

“You know, young man, good work should be well paid, how much do you want! One hundred dollars? One hundred and fifty? Or maybe even two hundred dollars?” said Tom’s father, taking out his wallet and handing Simon the money.

“No, I don’t need money, your praise is enough for me.”

Tom’s father insisted.

“No no young man, I insist.”

Simon also decided to insist on his own.

“Well, I insist that you keep this money for yourself.”

Tom’s father put away the money, thought about it, twirled his mustache and said,

“Then maybe you’ll want some ice cream.”

Ha Ha, Mr. Lazlo played a trump card, ice cream was Simon’s weakness and he physically and morally could not refuse such a treat. Because as soon as he heard the word - “Vanilla ice cream” - he already felt the taste of this sweetness on his tongue. And at that moment Simon said,

“Yes, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind let’s go to the kitchen I’ll give it to you.”

Simon followed Tom’s father to the kitchen. The kitchen looked simply magnificent, a black and white tiled floor and white-blue wallpaper, to the left of the entrance to the kitchen stood a dining table on which stood a glass with table napkins and various spices, and on the right side of the kitchen was a work area where there was a cooking table, an electric stove, and of course a refrigerator.

Tom’s father opened the freezer of the refrigerator, took out some vanilla ice cream, and gave it to Simon.

Simon took the ice cream and the broken radio, said goodbye to Tom and his father, and went home.

Tom and his father watched Simon through the living room window and Tom’s father said,

“You’re lucky to have a friend like that, son. He helps you and doesn’t ask for a penny. And yet, for repairing the player, they would have charged me a hefty sum at the workshop.”

“Yeah, I’m lucky with a friend,” Tom said.

Walking home, Simon enjoyed the silence. After crossing a bridge and bypassing a small forest, Simon was already walking along a stone fence. He looked at it, smiled, and went on. Simon reached his house, inserted the key into the door, and opened it. Simon entered the house and shouted,

“Mom! Dad! I’m home!”

His father’s voice came from the living room.

“Simon, please come here!”

“Yes of course, just now I’ll take off my shoes with a vest.”

After taking off his down vest and shoes, Simon went to the living room to his father.

Entering the living room, Simon saw his father sitting on the couch.

“Did you want something, Dad?” Simon asked.

“Yes, but first sit down next to me,” Simon’s father replied.

“Okay.”

Simon put the broken radio on the floor and sat down on the couch.

“Simon , where did you get that broken radio?” His father asked.

“Well, when I was walking Tom home, a man who lived next door threw a radio out of the window because some team lost a match with a score of 34-60.”

“I see, apparently this guy had high hopes for them, which they did not live up to.”

“Yeah.”

“By the way, how was your day?” his father asked.

“Okay, and how was your day, Dad?” Simon asked.

“Also okay, though I’m tired as a worn-out running wolf.”

“I see, and how are you feeling?”

“Okay, I actually wanted to ask you something.”

“What is it?”

Simon’s father took out a letter from his pocket and showed it to Simon. It was a letter that Miranda had written to him, but where did his father get it?

“I found it in the hallway when I came back with your mother.”

“I… I…”

“Eh… tell me honestly, are you upset?”

“Yes… I was upset, but I came to terms with the fact that I can’t bring my friend back and that it’s not worth taking my own life over this, after all life doesn’t end there.”

Simon’s father smiled, ruffled his son’s hair and said,

“That’s good, you’re already quite an adult. By the way, don’t you want to watch a football match with me?”

“No thanks, I think I’ll go to sleep.”

“Well then good night, just don’t wake up your mother she’s very tired today. She was tortured in accounting today.”

“Yes of course Dad.”

Simon went upstairs to his room, undressed but before going to bed. Simon opened the window to admire the night sky. It was bright and beautiful, the stars were joyfully dancing, and there was a natural silence outside. Simon inhaled, filling his lungs with clean forest air. It was not so cold outside, you could walk in a light jacket and thin pants without fear of freezing.

Having admired the night sky, Simon closed the window, went to bed and wrapped himself in a warm blanket and went to sleep.

But Simon couldn’t sleep, he tossed from side to side, fluffed up his pillow, turned the blanket over to the cold side, but he just couldn’t fall asleep. Something was pricking his soul, an unknown beast was tormenting his consciousness, not letting Simon get on the train of dreams, not letting him get the necessary eight hours of sleep. Then Simon got out of bed and went to his desk. He took a dictaphone from the shelf and rummaged in his box with audio recordings. Simon took out one of the tapes on which it was written - “Miranda’s poem: Sleep peacefully and do not be afraid”. Simon inserted the tape into the dictaphone and pressed the play button. Simon lay back in bed and started listening to the recording.

“Simon this thing started moving”

“That means the recording is going”

“Oh, I see.”

“And when I need to finish recording, do I need to press it again?”

“Yeah”

“Okay, I got it”

“Ahem, I’ll start.”

What’s wrong with you? Why can’t you sleep?

 What is bothering you and keeping you awake?

 Who or what is tormenting your mind?

 And not letting you fall asleep?

 

Don’t be afraid, for my voice is always with you.

I will protect your dream, and not give it to the embrace of evil.

While you sleep, I will guard your dream.

 

My voice will always be with you.

 

Sleep peacefully and don’t be afraid. 

My best friend. 

For I am on the watch of your sleep this night.

 

No one will disturb or wake you up.

You will wake up refreshed and full of strength.

So that tomorrow we can meet again.

 

Sleep peacefully and don’t fear anything.

For my voice is with you. 

And in the pitch darkness, I won’t leave you.

 

Sleep peacefully and don’t fear anything. 

For this night everything will be calm No one will come and disturb your sleep. 

So sleep peacefully and don’t fear anything.

A click sounded, and the dictaphone fell silent. Silence reigned in the room, it seemed that even a mouse would not disturb this silence. But Simon fell into a deep sleep like a baby. And he had bright dreams, so bright that he smiled through his sleep.

And he doesn’t even suspect that from the thicket of a dark forest leaning against a stone fence. Someone or something was watching his house, not blinking its gaze, as if it was waiting for something, but what?

Unfortunately we won’t find out about this, but for now that’s all for today. Thank you very much for devoting your time to my story and I hope you don’t regret spending it on me. Well I wish you a good day, and I say goodbye to you until we meet again.

Oh just as well the kettle boiled.