Named Sherlock

by Bagatur Zhamkochyan

  - Miss Emily Sherlock's fault. He just stood up for me! If not for him, I do not know what would have happened to me!

  - Wait Donnie and what actually happened here, can you tell?

  - Well ... - Donny again began to blush, and then completely began to stutter with excitement. - Um, we were just talking, pot-T argued that, well ... We started to fight here.

  - We talked here in the pantry?

  - D-e-da. A to-to-when they began to fight, came Shh-Sherlock, and helped me. That's all.

  - Yeah, everything? Are you sure? Sherlock, everything is as it was?

  Stumbling on a pleading look Donnie, I'm a second frowned, then I understood. Oh Gods! He just does not want to Miss Emily learned that over him bullied other kids. Naive lover boy. Well, that will have to play along.

  - Oh sure. That's how it was.

  - And who was the instigator?

  - Do not nn-remember, it is something to do with-with-itself all happened - Donald lie clearly could not, blushing is already up to some unnatural color and without raising his eyes from the floor.

  - You, too, confirms that all was well? - asked the woman to Ronnie, still lying on the floor.

  He nodded.

  - Well, since there are no guilty, the answer will be all. Donald, you are clearly not yet ready for the punishment, today rest, discuss it with you tomorrow. And you, my dear, as the most healthy - will work. You, - she said to Ronnie, - in order bringest room. In order for dinner, no trace of defeat, then you have arranged. And you, Sherlock, the least injured, before dinner, Mrs. Rose will help in the kitchen. She always complains that she did not have enough time and effort for cleaning and polishing utensils. Here you have this situation and fix it!

  Holding the shoulders sway Donald, Miss Emily out of the room. We eyed each other Ronnie look of hatred.

  Well, here's the pirates, that's an adventure, all as ordered. Rested in the library, I was distracted. Ugh.

  Chapter 3.

  I had the opportunity to visit the possession of Mrs. Rose one single time when Donnie took me to the orphanage, are familiar with the masters. I thought then, I confess, on the other, and the time has passed decently, so I vaguely remembered the kitchen, like a dark, quite dark room, with a huge, similar to oven altar. She cook low fat woman, in her chef's hat and white apron, it looked like a formidable priestess God cooking.

  Now, the first thing that struck me, this is a huge variety of copper utensils, which filled seemed almost all the available space. Turning to the sound of the door opening, Mrs. Rose looked up from cooking:

  - What do you need?

  - Helps you to come, Miss Emily said that you have a job there.

  - Oh, you Well my child, and you, for what? - the woman shook her head. - This Herod little more, I would have added. Oo-oo-oo, ogloedy grew healthy foreheads, no mind, no heart!

  - Nothing, all right. All punished for fighting, not only me. So I'm ready. You say, what to do.

  - Oh-oh-oh, well, my son, to work. A call that you like, and that I and forgotten?

  - Sherlock.

  - Ah, yes, Sherlock, for sure. Donald about you often said - the woman took off with the nail of a dull copper pan, handed it to me. - That look. You see, the whole dark, and it is necessary that glittered. Take a wet cloth, - it held out wet flap - poppy salt and clean. On, try.

  With the effort spent some time on the cloth surface oxides, noticed that it really becomes lighter, it starts a little gleam. Well, who would not say, and all work is honorable. While his hands slowly perform artless work, mentally, I went back to the events of today.

  Now, in addition to my own problems still had to somehow solve the problem Donnie. I could not leave the shelter and leave him here. Given that children are, in essence, are predators, they are without doubt eventually would destroy the weakest in his pack. I do not mean - physically, although after today's carnage and I admit that, but at least morally would break. I do not know how to explain my behavior psychologists - maybe I saw Donnie their unfulfilled younger brother, and perhaps protecting him, I protected in some measure himself, as Donnie was kind of like me ... Can say for sure only one thing - becoming the friend of this boy, I could not leave him at the mercy of the crowd. We had to think of something. Perhaps Mr. Jobson will be able to help - to find some loophole in the law, allowing Donnie officially take from the shelter? Be sure to ask at the next meeting.

  Lost in thought, I did not immediately drew attention to the fact that Mrs. Rose, for some time now something softly said parallel slicing vegetables huge knife:

  - ... and his mother, a bitch such cast! Oh, forgive me, Lord. Well, how else to say? The rest of what, ugh! Street Children. And Donald as noble - clever, kind, quiet, out books, read, do not tear off. Oh, do not place it here, be gone low.

  Reaching women otdraenny pelvis me and get the same huge copper pan, I decided to intervene in the monologue:

  - Mrs. Rose, Donnie talked about the alchemy that it is very interesting to him. Tell me, do have a big problem with the fact that his study further?

  - Oh, there, there, my child. As you said - the problem? Here it is. I'm not an alchemist, I - to pick up, this. The village has grown, and we have both - in the garden so in the near forest grows, the and are treated. I taught our old herbalist, but here I am teaching Donnie. Yes, just to teach it to me more than nothing, and lessons from this alchemist of money are huge, from where they take it?

  - A book? You can also learn from books. Here, we have in the library there are also books on mechanics, therefore, alchemy can be found ...

  - Baby, it's the same old Mr. Shaw book, he taught himself on them when the child was. A book from the master - the most holy, who are here so they just give the library.

  Oh well, really. It is not I think. That is to say, "The mechanics and mechanisms" - this old textbooks show? That he was not surprised sharply increased level of my skill ... By the way, there was an interesting booklet on the renewal of mechanical toys, and I'm up to it and has not reached. It will be necessary in the near future necessarily correct.

  When the head is busy, monotonous work is done quickly and does not tire. Periodically immersed in thought, sometimes distracted by a conversation with Mrs. Rose, I did not realize how to clean the pan, then some other pots, bowls, saucers, coffee pot. The next time I was distracted from the work of a system message, which read:

  - Congratulations! Quest: "retribution!" made.

  - Reward: 3000 experience (3000/10000).

  Yeah, that is the villain Miss Volfish finally got into the tenacious paws of justice. It is very nice. Now there is nothing and no one is blocking my way home. On top of this good news, Mrs. Rose heralded the approaching dinner time, and I was allowed to go back home with gratitude and a small paper bag of homemade cookies. Bird flying on the third floor, I was looking for a moment in his room, he distributed another score characteristics, still without changing one decision-making, good luck. Then gently knocked on the door of the room Donny. Receiving no answer, I looked.

  Donnie, fully clothed, shoes included, lying on a narrow bed and slept soundly. Considering that I left on the table a package of cookies will be sufficient to compensate for the missed dinner, I did not wake him up.

  Guys quietly gathered in the dining room. Apparently, rumors have already spread, as at me askance and whispered candidly. Which appeared later Ronnie silently passed only with hatred zyrknuv askance. Yeah, and the lip had been blown cool! So be it. That's just the problem should be solved quickly, clearly the same as that in an effort to restore the shaken prestige, he will definitely prepare some dirty trick. And I'm afraid that a banal fight this time we will not get off.

  Dinner is not yet brought. Strange, like Mrs. Rose has finished cooking it. Suddenly, from small groups, whispering of the five boys are separated and cautiously looking at the sullen frowning Ronnie came up to me. Well, start ...

  - Sherlock, hello. My name is Irwin.

  - Hello, Irwin - I
have some idea of what he will tell me, and I admit, it's not much enthusiasm aroused in me.

  - They say that you beat Ronnie Bob?

  - You never know who is saying what.

  - What is it true?

  - Well, let's say we had a fight, and what of it?

  The boy hesitated. It was clear what he expected from me was not such a reaction, and now does not know how to proceed. I was not going to help him.

  - Well, you know - after all, he decided. - We paid the money, Ronnie, what they would with Bob we did not touch. But now, once you beat them, we are willing to pay you, if you agree to protect us.

  - This is why it suddenly? From the fact that I did not get along with Ronnie for you, then nothing has changed.

  - Yes, it is now we will have to beat how much in vain, and so it is used to beat, even if the money gave. And now, all evil will be frustrated. And if you intercede for us and promised myself not to touch, we and the other guys to give you all you will pay.

  Oh, no, just that I was lacking. And it's not that I did not care and did not want to interfere. But I do not want to help people who are themselves able to do so.

  - Look, Irvine. You really do not take offense, but I'm helping you do not intend to. Have more than one person, you can safely cope with an adult, not just with Ronnie and Bob, unless you such cowards. Me your money is not needed, although very interesting, where you get them, if you can not get out of the shelter.

  - As you want. Look, do not pity - he finally looked at me briefly, and returned to his seat.

  Well, another enemy is ready. And to hell with it, by these cowardly sheep, I was not expecting any particular risk. Though ... and the crowd can pounce. In general, now go and look back.

  Finally, they brought dinner. After receiving his portion of cabbage, I was no longer paying attention to the glances and whispers, quick supper and hurried to leave the dining room. Before lights were still about two hours, and I decided, this time, to reach all the same to the library and spend the rest of the evening in her.

  Empty library silence greeted me. What to read? Has already received its share of adventure, read books about pirates, I changed my mind. Oh, I have to break his own word. Even though I promised not to read about living toys until such time as not master "Mechanics and Mechanisms", I think, particularly troubles from it will not. Having found a pamphlet on the shelf, I sat down in the chair where you would normally sit loved Donnie, and opened the book.

  I must say, even though I myself in it and do not admit it, but I was expecting in a book titled "Living Dolls - skill or magic?", To find some specific instructions for recovery. I do not know, some kind of instructions for the implementation of the soul, or something. However, the book was a collection of historical stories, speculation, rumors, and even frank tales associated with the creation of living toys. Although, I confess, there were stories prelyubopytny.

  Some have made a special impression on me.

  For example, the story of the old masters who, after the death of his wife, so as not to be left without attention and care of his little daughter, made a doll that became a nurse and friend to her. She played with the girl, fed her, walked. And, after a while, completely replaced and the mother that the girl, being just a kid, pretty soon forgotten, and his father, whom she so rarely seen, as he worked.

  Several years passed, the girl grew up, and the old master, seeing that his own daughter tied to a mechanical toy more than a father, mother, after some time began to hate his creation. And when, finally, too much tightened plant spring broke and damaged the delicate mechanism, the master first even delighted, hoping that her daughter would come back to him. The girl is constantly crying, begging his father to fix a toy, and languished easy on the eyes. But, unable to cope with his jealousy, he did not manage to make the doll the way it was originally. toys soul flew away and refused to return. Daughter soon became seriously ill and died, the old master of grief began to drink and since then has not made any more toys. How and where he ended his life - I do not know ...

  Another story altogether resembles a fairy tale, though the fact that it took place is not known where, and "a long time ago." In general, in any kingdom, a long time ago, I sat on the throne of the young king, soon became an orphan. He was, despite his age is quite a good ruler. Maybe the fact that his father during his lifetime was a good man and a wise emperor, and could also raise a son, or perhaps from the fact that in all the kingdom, and it was established - the war is not in sight, people are not in poverty. Therefore, the young king loved people, and he is also quite good attitude to people.

  Every year, on his birthday, the king arranged for young ball, which invited all the children who wish to come.

  And once, on a ball he brought his son Master mechanic. After watching those with some sadness and envy of the king from his throne, looking at the children, their peers, that carefree fun and play, the master understood why the King constantly sad. Despite the fact that he had everything, he did not have the main thing - friends. The next day, the king's birthday, the master made a gift for him - a friend, faithful and devoted. Mechanical dog, a complete copy of which was owned by his son.

  Since then, the king and his faithful mechanic friend did not leave for a minute, saw them everywhere only together. And on that day, when the old king has said goodbye to this world, his dog a copper statue of the eternal atonement for the post at his grave. Sitting on a marble slab, the dog will never budge, although it was absolutely OK. And yet, somewhere far away, on the grave of the old King sits mechanical friend and protects his eternal rest.

  Assume for a moment that picture, I swallowed.

  I read the book in one fell swoop, never take your eyes off. She was full of stories, some of which, in my opinion, and does not particularly confidence. But one thing unites them, and the narrator himself has come to a similar conclusion - before, it was the mechanics of art was an art, and it is much more developed. Like the masters themselves were much more. Now and skill level has decreased, and the mechanics themselves almost never left. Cases also revitalize mechanisms nowadays are so rare that living toys are unimaginable money, although a hundred years ago - are accessible to people with average incomes.

  What followed from that conclusion - is unclear. Whether the soul of people milled, or have forgotten how to invest their hard to say in his work. I closed the book. No I did not get a finished recipe, but very sorry about it. I spent time just fine. It has long been, and in this world and does not once, not ever to me just like that, and spend a quiet evening with a book.

  Returning to his room, on the road again I looked to Donnie. That all also in the same position, sound asleep. Well, then, until the morning.

  Well, at last, a bed, how I missed her! If the rest of the evening I had somehow kept, but now he felt under his head skinny pillow and covered his head with a shabby blanket, I suddenly felt so tired that even did not notice that almost instantly fell asleep.

  ***

  - Joey, to me! Come here, baby! - slap his hand on her thigh, beckoning other. The joyous gallop flying towards, jumps, wags his tail, faithfully looks into his eyes.

  - Walking, Joy. Walk, bring a leash - red lightning metnuvshy out of the room, a few seconds later the dog returned with the leash in his mouth.

  We went out on the porch. Morning sun blinds, brand new, brand-new, wooden house is breathing fresh saw cut and pine resin. With lakes, which begins almost a step away from the gate, pulling misty coolness.

  I look back at the house. Eh! To what I have it good! It is this about what I've always dreamed of - a two-storey, with large windows, is now wide open, with a small outdoor terrace.

  - Good we have a house, so, Joey? Yeah, you like it too, my boy? - caress swirling underfoot and frantically wagging tail dog. - And these villagers, so stupid, set up some black shack. Well, let's go, my friend, to visit them?

  Coming down from a high hill, looking toward the village located at the foot. A dozen ricket
y, black occasional small houses, gardens with eternal turnips and swedes, Kryven'kyi palisades.

  Something here today quietly, even the geese do not gogochut, as usual at this time. There is no one ... And, although there is, in his house, his back to me is an old John.

  - Egegey, there is someone at home then? John, Marie? It's me, your neighbor.

  Strangely enough, the old man does not turn around to my voice. Completely deaf or something? Resolutely opened the gate, I come closer. And suddenly froze, bound with horror. Old John should not just so, and half hanging nakolovshis as a bug on a pin, on its own forks scored handle in the wall of the wooden house.

  Starting back a few steps back, instantly covered with sticky sweat, the heart of stone falls somewhere in the stomach. In one jump, breaking the nearly poldvora, take off the porch and takes pounding on the door. That, creaking in protest, opens slowly.

  - Marie? Are you here? - cautious look inside. Silence. Woman sitting at the table in silence, back in the dark and cramped kitchenette. Hands on the table, his head bowed, like she's just sleeping. Already apprehensively I hail it again - the answer is still no. Desperate, I shake his shoulder. Marie's head falls to the side, and I see the terrible part, previously not seen me - a wide incision under the chin, through his throat from ear to ear. Blood, dark, glossy film covers the entire table, disturbed by this movement begins to drip onto the floor. Drip, drip, drip ...

  In a panic, I jump out into the street. There, in spite of the early morning, suddenly dark. Suddenly an icy wind gust threw in the face of a handful of snow pellets and motanul top of old birch trees that grew along the fence. At the protest creaking branch, swung hard body neighborhood children, twins, hanging side by side, hand in hand, as in life. What? Where? Nothing as such was not, when I went into the house!

  I close my eyes in the secret hope that this is all just a wraith, but no! Small corpses of children, boys and girls, all too slowly swinging on a short rope.

  Terrified, there is little that wondering, I'm slowly starting to move back, staring at the horrible tree. After a few steps, I turn around and starts running toward the woods that black monolith stands nearby.