The Before Short Story Series. Part 1 [Иван Перепелятник] (fb2) читать постранично, страница - 2

there?’

‘I will tell you a story, Ayaka, on our way to the park.’

‘Tell it now. Please!’

‘Well, fine. Listen, Ayaka. Once upon a time, long long ago, there was a free ranger in Japan called Mr Fuji. He had no family: he lived alone. He served no-one, obeyed no-one. He had no children, no wife, not even a dog. As the free ranger didn’t need to care about his relatives, he resolved to dedicate all the time he had, his whole life to pursue wisdom from the most experienced, most knowledgeable people around. Mr Fuji decided that he would travel much further than just across Japan: he had the whole world open for himself, as the free spirit and pure heart know no borders and no limits. He decided to meet peasants, military men, sages, merchants, craftsmen, doctors—as many people of different life and craft as he possibly could, to learn from them their way of life, what matters to them, what they believe in, what sciences they learn, how they bring their children up,’ Keirou glanced in the rear-view mirror at Ayaka, who was attentively listening and looking at him from time to time. ‘Mr Fuji travelled so much, visited so many countries that people started composing legends about him. And the tale of his travels spread even quicker than he would go himself. When the wanderer reached a new place, one where he had never been before, the people he would meet there would already know everything about his pursuit, the reasons of his coming, and all that he wanted from them. Some were unwilling to share knowledge with him: they thought it might come to hurt them. Indeed, Mr Fuji had already learned so much, been to so many different continents, met so many learned people… they were afraid he would come to use his newly-gained knowledge to get hold of their houses and riches, to conquer their lands, to drive them away. Once, in a southern land, the free wanderer got caught by barbarians who demanded him to lay all his secrets bare. Mr Fuji was genuinely surprised, “What kind of mysteries do you want to learn about?” he said. “I have no mysteries. I am ready to tell you all I have learnt.” “Then do tell!” demanded the captors. And so he started his story: “During my wandering I visited many wonderful and miraculous places, and met many wise, open, and honest people. They told me so much about their achievements, about their skills and experience, that in the very beginning of my travel I realized that I had to continue not with the goal to learn all those wise peoples knew—for I would be unable to learn even an insignificant share of what they knew—but because when I would some day come back to my native land, the story of my life would serve as a proof that the life that we have been granted is an invaluable vessel. In the beginning it is empty, and what you fill it with and how—what the contents of your life will be, what would be your true goals and aspirations, and whether you would be worthy of your ancestors—all this depends on you, and on you alone. The secret for me to share with the world is simple: we ourselves are responsible for our destinies, we ourselves choose a path to follow. The wisdom of gathered knowledge is a priceless energy, which everyone can obtain and use for others’ sake.” The barbarians did not believe Mr Fuji, they thought he was deceiving them, as the secret he had just told was absolutely worthless, had no profit, and there was no-one it could be sold to. They left the free wanderer alone without food or water in a deep well and told him, “When you can fill this hole with your stories in such a way that your so-called priceless energy of life would lift you up to the ground, only then would you become free. Or else you can tell us the truth and uncover the secrets you are currently keeping—then we will set you free.” But the wanderer had nothing else to say, and so gradually, day after day, his saw his life fade. When Mr Fuji became one of the earth spirits, he roamed far and wide in search of a place to dwell. And so he came back to Japan, and found such a place for himself: such became Mt Fuji, a vessel of eternal wisdom, to be filled by his successors.’

Having made a pause, Keirou continued, ‘This story was told to me by my father—your grandfather. Did you get it, Ayaka, what it was that Mr Fuji did?’

‘I got it, Daddy! he settled in our volcano. Now I know why you are working in the park—you are guarding Mr Fuji, so that his wisdom wouldn’t get lost.’

‘Very well, daughter. It is important to remember that we choose our life course for outselves—what and when we should do, where and with whom we should live, how we can benefit our society, our country the most. Remember, Ayaka, that your life too is a vessel. Just as Mr Fuji’s, it can be filled with knowledge for everyone’s sake. Or else we can live our life in vain, scattering only rubbish on our way.’

‘Yes, Daddy. But there was one thing I didn’t get: why was it that the barbarians didn’t believe Mr Fuji’s words? why, Daddy?’

‘Ayaka, many times people don’t see the most important things they already have in their hands. Often we think that the truth is too difficult, and only having learnt it—having uncovered this great secret—do we realize what it really takes to be happy.

The blue truck drove up to the Fuji–Hakone–Izu National Park main building, surrounded by crowds of tourists—apparently, they had just got off the long row of buses parked nearby. Sun covers above the main building entrance—which harboured a Mt Fuji history museum, some lecture halls, a forestry service, a medical section, and the park administration—made the hot a little more bearable, but it was still very notable. Even the leaves on nearby trees got dimmer, losing a bit of their juicy shine.

‘You know, Ayaka,’ Keirou said to his daughter, ‘you should probably rather study at home today. Look how many visitors there are here today. I guess I will have quite a restless day.’

Keirou was critically examining the tens of people crowded by the central entrance to the National Park. The tourists wanted to get to one of the observation decks on a side of the volcano as soon as possible—and for a reason, as it was likely to be much cooler there.

‘If you go with me, Ayaka-chan, I will be constantly distracted, I will be worrying about you, and so I might miss something important. It won’t be good, will it? so we have a deal, Ayaka, right?’

‘Right, Daddy,’ said Ayaka, barely holding her tears.

Keirou approached the rear passenger door, where Ayaka was sitting to check the safety belts in her child safety seat.

‘Oh, and Mummy hasn’t got your tights off either… this way you will surely overheat here,’ he hugged his daughter’s shoulders and kissed her on the forehead.

‘Shin, would you please bring Ayaka back home and get back here?’ Keirou gave an order to his digital assistant. ‘Tell Hiromi to meet Ayaka near the house and to see her in. When you come back, please park on the staff parking lot. Did you get all of it, Shin?’

‘Sure indeed, Keirou. I will bring Ayaka back home and come back to the National Park main building,’ Shin confirmed receiving the task.

‘Ayaka, everything all right?’

‘Yes, Daddy. It’s only that I want to go with you!’

‘Sorry Ayaka-chan, but not today. Next time, I promise.’

Keirou saw the slowly accelerating blue car leave. The bare peak of Mt Fuji was visible through the leaf cover. ‘Even the snow cap can’t bear this heat, it all melt.’ Making a deep breath of heavy hot air, Keirou walked to the staff entrance.

Ozzie

‘Good Lord! My God! Is there anything at all that you can do normally?! Look at the hole you’ve left here! wow, this block is really worth nothing now. Throw this away immediately! just what kind of work is this, I wonder… that’s no work! that’s some half-assed junk, for all I can say! 100% pure shit, nothing more!’ Jordan got hold of the keyboard and, banged it loudly on the table with anger. A number of keys got loose and flew into his face. ‘Whoa, damn it! damn morons!… get out everyone! everyone out of here! Out no-ow! I am saying, GET OUT YOU DAMN MORONS! I-DI-OTS!’

Lizzie got up from her table, tears in her eyes, picked up her bag, her phone, and went to the exit. Everyone else—not a word spoken—left too. Silence ensued. Only a slight sound of the air conditioning system went on actively filling in the void with an image of office life.

‘Morons! Idiots! Damn it!’ Jordan picked up the broken keyboard and threw it into the wall. Then he came up to the scattered keys and crouched, holding his hands to his head.

A couple of minutes later Jordan got his phone from a pocket of his loose jeans and dialled Beg Shauncan: ‘Hey Beg. That’s me. I got fired up a