Our characters intended to do so, yet later, since they were bound with a different business. Now they waited for one person whose apartment they arranged to rent. As in “Oryol i Reshka” is drawn that the hosts of the show stay for a night at houses of those not indifferent and helpful people who are willing to let them in. Earlyborn and Zhenka watched one such an episode and agreed with someone called Khaulo to meet in a café on the main streets of the town. Khaulo was late. The siblings did not want to waste their precious time and started looking at shop windows, locals and anything that could tell about the culture and secrets those locals had. They stared at an advertisement for tourists, and suddenly their gazes switched to another wonder—the deep water lakes and those evergreen forests further on the island (my note: how else can “в глубине острова” be translated?). They looked and experienced that calmness which comes to a person when he immerses in a warm bath. Earlyborn had a warm bath now for the first time after they sailed from Paris. She and Zhenka sat in the Khaulo’s veranda and discussed the problems of transferring unique tropical butterflies from the north to the south. If there was any secret on how to live, they knew it was in giving up on urban life and daily routine. They tried to travel freely and eventually got the way of thinking of people who are inveterate extremal travelers. Earlyborn was also an inveterate person when it came to baths, and that evening she could not help lying in a bath filled with her thoughts and dreams.
Chapter 19, Megrez
Luisian made his childish dream come true. It often happened in the last century that people faced with each other on a bus stop, where there was no bus, and asked: “What’s wrong?” Now somewhere in the construction site in Severnoye Butovo District—not the closest one two the Moscow centre—similar friendly relations happened among second shift of the group of workers number one. One worker said to another one, “Life is so wonderful! And we are so miserable in our situation, in which we deem our work as nothing of interest and do not see plain wonders as the star Megrez in the starry sky. But, look, here there is a person come here from Italy (from where! Just realize!), or from Argentina with the only purpose to work on the construction site while Russian frosts!” That is always true, my dear friends. Where someone finds a thing, another one loses it. Someone lives with an impossible for them dream to move to Denmark or on the east coast of Switzerland, while another person lives in this place in real life. Some people want to change something in their room since the placement of objects does not satisfy them, but can hardly determine themselves to do. However, other people cannot help altering the appearance and keep the beauty they made for a long time. It is never true that one thing has the same positive or negative emotional effect on different people. I have dream to drive, as Earlyborn did, my own Range Rover to the white coast of France and to greet the dawn, sitting on a windmill. Yet someone could have seen enough sunrises and has now wish to sit an hour or a day near that windmill, and like the pilgrim from my book “Honesty” strictly begins his journey. Never is it possible for two people to have the same feeling. If scientists were to perform an experiment on whether each person has got his own idiosyncrasy, I would suggest them to carry out a survey asking two hundred thousand people about one topic. Then the survey would live up to expectations and show that definitely each person is an individual, for even questioned with “Do you love the life?”, I am sure, each person on the Earth would tell his unique idea. Even if they spoke with the same words, they would mean different concepts. I will work notwithstanding the time, weather and other hazards. The words I will say now are deemed, if spoken, wrong, yet I will speak them, tell what I feeclass="underline" “Probably, even be I on my deathbed (and I wish not to be there in the nearest two hundred years), I will improve myself or simply contemplate the idea—how it is to perfect yourself.”
Luisian sat in a cabin of a crane, which was, seemingly, located thousands kilometres above the land. Suddenly he heard the higher forces. They were not any kind of a kind faceless person with a beard. They were not angels in the flesh. They were calm wind gusts that knocked in trembling window. They seemed to him somewhat weightless, which caused a feeling as if someone looked at your back but had no intention to do you harm. This happened to Luisian February 13th. Then it occurred at him that numbers are of no importance nowadays. “Today is Friday the 13th, and what is the matter? Someone still got a nice present and experienced magic. Someone experienced the failure in the achievement of their dream. And what then? People are not able to cope with emotions, and numbers are not to blame for that fact. Luisian asked wind a question, “What should I do?” And the wind answered like a real old man of wisdom – in strange, obscure manner, with riddles and long pauses. It said he should find the roots. And the issue was next.
Luisian was drinking up a next mug of real Russian tea with lemon. He fought with his lovely hat with earflaps that refused to fit his head. Suddenly the wind roared. It was both harsh and light. It was a usual wind, but Luisian was confused. Perhaps, the thing was in Russian mysticism. Our character felt that someone was behind his back. He quickly turned around. He saw a second row of seats, which is often a part of a long-distance trucker’s cabin, where a bed, the TV or a fridge are placed.
Something changed in Luisian. He experienced some new, unknown powers. He looked at the mirror and exclaimed, “Ah!” It seemed to him, a badge “Li-san” was on his T-shirt, and he himself resembled a Japonese or a Chinese.
***
Megrez shone very bright, and Earlyborn and Zhenka wondered, “Has something burst in space?” Yet nothing, unfortunately or not, was burst in space. There were just caracaras flying. They seemed to fall like millions of splashes in that hot midday—either winter or summer one. The sky above Caracas was clean and purely blue, and the siblings could not understand why they went to the city with some kind of anxiety. Why is this town one of the bandit towns all around the world? But soon they discovered the answer. They were about to get off the boat when Earlyborn screamed. The fear touched her dress. The fear she would pass away and leave nothing after herself and never get the knowledge of stability. “Continuity is the power of progress.” Bandits, who live their life as if there is no tomorrow, palm and birch trees—anything confirms continuity to be the crucial part of life. If you are a Godfather, who does not manage to take a knife out of your pocket, some mightier gangster would replace you and become a ringleader. Zhenka gazed at birds that seemed to him the years he lived in his life and minutes when he pondered. He then speculated, “What is wrong with my life?”
The guys felt some changes happening with them. They experienced verve in their bodies to fulfill their plans before they would reach the land of Antarctic. It was not clear what brought the changes. Arguably, the reason was in Caracas, which proudly demonstrated remarkable and expensive skyscrapers on one hand, and somewhat reminding Brazil favelas under the heavy rain on the other hand. Arguably, they were caused by the fact our characters finally started their journey on Bermuda. Unexpectedly, Zhenka got a security key fob to car sent him a signal that someone wanted to break into a car. However, it was hard to do so, since it was far from people—in a cave near the bay, under the shades of coconut trees. The danger, which the car could face with was the a hungry tiny crab that wanted some iron to eat. They guys wanted to develop as they saw the beauty. Some three-five kilometres from there was the beauty. Beyond the human mind was Venezuela nature, which seemed to trail on the globe from the body of America, like a branch of fuchsia. The gist of this chapter depicts the relevant and marvelous characteristic of life, “If you suppose that life is meaningless, then you ought to go on working, because such work often turns to be the most important one in life, yet as the practice shows, people are not able to estimate it truly.”