- -
- 100%
- +
A very rare human.
Dasha closed the article on her phone. Enough science for today.
She left her door open.
Maybe that was where everything began.
Notebook entry: The bag did not try to be liked. Theory: sometimes the most convincing place is the one that asks nothing of you.
Chapter 3. The Case of Mom Face
Case No. 3. Object of investigation: Mom Face.
Special feature: Mom insists she is not turning anything on. Soya disagrees.
In the house, some things worked all the time.
The refrigerator sometimes hummed. The internet sometimes vanished. The kettle sometimes took too long to think.
But Mom Face worked without interruption.
It was not just a face. It was an event.
Mom could say nothing. Simply look.
And that was enough.
Mira remembered that homework did not do itself.
Dasha remembered she was an adult and should behave accordingly.
Dad remembered to put his mug on the table.
Soya remembered she had urgent business somewhere else.
The Face was powerful. Almost like a vacuum cleaner, but without the noise.
That day, Soya was lying beside Dad. Dad sat in his office, working, drinking tea, typing, staring at the screen. Sometimes he said:
“Beige Girl, you’re on the cord again.”
Soya did not answer. The cord was comfortable. Therefore, the question was unnecessary.
Mira sat on the hallway floor, pretending to play. In reality, she was watching Soya.
Dasha sat in her room, pretending to read. In reality, she was watching too.
In this family, everyone often pretended.
Soya did not. She simply lay there.
Dad did nothing extra.
That was irritating. Because Soya was lying next to him. Not Mira. Not Dasha. Not the specially prepared blanket. Not even the bag, and the bag was respectable.
Beside Dad.
Dad did not rejoice. He did not call everyone over. He did not say, “See?”
He just worked.
Unfair.
A winner should at least fuss a little.
And then Mom appeared in the doorway.
She was just passing by.
Just passing.
But then she saw Soya next to Dad.
She stopped.
She looked.
Not angrily. But with Face.
Soya opened her eyes.
Dad kept typing.
Mira stopped playing.
Dasha stopped reading.
The office became very quiet.
Mom Face had turned on.
“With Dad again?” Mom asked.
“She came on her own,” said Dad.
That was Dad’s main defense. No one could do anything against it.
Soya looked at Mom. Then at Dad. Then at the door.
The door was open. That saved the situation.
Soya stood.
Slowly. With dignity.
She jumped down from the spot beside Dad and walked into the hallway.
She did not run away. She relocated. That is what important cats do when they do not want to admit they were startled.
Mira jumped up.
“Mom!”
Dasha came out of her room.
“You turned on the Face again.”
Mom looked surprised.
“I did not turn anything on.”
“You did,” said Mira.
“I just looked.”
“Exactly,” said Dasha.
Dad came out of the office with his mug.
“Mom Face should be used only for peaceful purposes.”
Mom looked at him. Dad placed his mug carefully on the nearest shelf.
Soya watched from the hallway.
The Face works on everyone, she thought. A useful tool.
Dangerous.
“I propose banning Mom Face after eight p.m.,” said Mira.
“Why after eight?” asked Dasha.
“So Soya can live in peace.”
“And before eight?”
Mira thought.
“Also not recommended.”
Dasha picked up her phone.
“We need to add Mom Face to the family emergency list.”
“To the what?” asked Mira.
“To the list of things you cannot predict.”
“Like rain?”
“Like rain. But indoors.”
Mom folded her arms.
“So my face is weather now?”
Dad said quietly:
“Local thunderstorms.”
Mom turned. Dad immediately looked into his mug, as if the tea required urgent attention.
Mira approached Soya.
“Soya, were you scared?”
Soya looked at her.
Scared was a bad word. Soya did not get scared. She assessed risk. The risk had been medium. With Face: elevated.
“She just moved away,” said Mom.
Soya took another step back.
Dasha nodded.
“Very convincingly moved away.”
Mom sighed.
“You are exaggerating.”
Soya sat by the wall. Beautifully. Beige-ly. With the expression: Humans are arguing. I can wait.
The truth was that Mom loved Soya. Her love was not like Mira’s. Mira loved with her whole body. Dasha loved with rules. Dad loved through useful things. Mom loved like Mom.
First she would look. Then say:
“Don’t touch her, she’s sleeping.”
Then she herself would approach and look.
With Face.
It was complicated. Soya was still studying it.
Mom went into the bedroom. The door stayed open. Correct.
On a chair lay Mom’s sweater. Soft. Light. Smelling of home.
Soya had noticed the sweater in the first days. Cats notice things before humans do. They simply do not always report it.
Soya came closer.
Mira froze.
Dasha froze.
Dad did not freeze. Dad drank tea. But he watched.
Soya sniffed the sleeve. Once. Then again.
Mom stood in the bedroom doorway and did not turn on Face.
At all.
Almost a miracle.
Soya looked at Mom. Mom stayed quiet. Good. When a human is quiet, you can work with them.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «Литрес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на Литрес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.