The Magic Cheese | страница 4

   At home Vovka washed his hands first – after all, he was a big boy to know about bacteria. Then he went to the kitchen, turned the kettle on and put cups and saucers on the table: for Mama, Grandpa, Grandma, and for himself. He put biscuits and sooshkas into a biscuit dish and got a sugar-pot. As for the cheese, Vovka sliced it thinly and laid on a plate. He couldn’t help having a tiny slice of it. “What an unusual smell!” he thought in amazement. “It doesn’t smell like cheese at all – it smells of summer, flowers, apples, water-melons, a little bit of a damp forest where mushrooms grow, loud splashes of water on the river, fresh milk that you drink before going to bed. And at the same time it smells of Christmas, of a Christmas tree, decorated with tangerines and brightly-wrapped candies, of a goose roasted in an oven, merry Christmas carols singers, frosty air that pinches your cheeks when you slide down the hill. Wow! How can they make cheeses like that? I’ve never had anything like that in my whole life! I wish I could take a glance at how they make it,” thought Vovka.

   Immediately the usual kitchen surroundings vanished somewhere, and Vovka found himself in a huge green meadow. The boy was absolutely confused. Only a minute ago he was making tea at home and then – imagine that! – he was in a meadow! And oh, what a meadow it was! The grass was thick, bright and rich, and it was coloured with flowers – blue, yellow, pink, purple, white and red, large and small ones. They made the meadow look like a fine carpet. There also was a path across this flowery carpet, but not a single person anywhere. Vovka couldn’t even ask anyone what kind of a place he got at. And, which was more important, how did he get there? Surely, it was some kind of magic. Vovka thought that perhaps he was only dreaming and pinched his hand. It became white, then red – no, a bruise wasn’t a dream at all. The boy looked around again and walked along the path decidedly.

   Vovka had never seen such amazing paths before. It was very much alive and joyful. It seemed to Vovka that the path was playing with him, slightly pushing the boy ahead. But of course, that couldn’t be true, just because it couldn’t be true at all. Still Vovka thought that only such paths were able to ‘lead’ you. This one was really doing that! Vovka had no idea what kind of a place it was, but he enjoyed it. On both sides of the path there were trees. They grew thicker and thicker until they turned into a real forest, and into a rather strange forest, one should say. Tiny yellow, orange, pink, red, green and blue birds were sitting on the branches of the trees. There was even one purple bird. All of them were singing about something kind and good, and these songs filled Vovka with joy and strength. The warm wind caressed the boy’s face, and brought fruit and (for some reason) honey fragrances. In the thick grass bright flowers were blooming and butterflies of many colours were flying over them. Beautiful green trees grew in the forest and almost all of them were in full blossom. Those that were not had ripe juicy fruit on their branches – cherries, plums, apples, pears, oranges, apricots, figs and many others. Well, even a small child knows that all these fruit trees can’t grow at one place and bear fruit at the same time. This isn’t possible and such cases are unknown to science. But Vovka saw that with his own eyes and even could touch the trees. Every time he would exclaim, “That cannot be!”, wondering at this miracle, an orange or some other fruit dropped into Vovka’s palm. Yes, this forest was truly magic. Its trees seemed to understand human language and gladly treated the boy to their fruits. Vovka wasn’t hungry yet, and he also remembered well that in magic gardens not all the fruits were harmless. If you tried them, you could have donkey’s ears or deer’s antlers afterwards. Or, which was even worth, you could stop breathing. Vovka had no wish to try these fruit, but he also didn’t want to hurt the trees, refusing them. He thought a little and put the fruit into his pockets. The trees seemed to notice what Vovka was doing, and started to give him more. “This way I won’t have any room left in my pockets very soon,” worried the boy. But then quite suddenly the forest came to an end.