Now He is not quite He, just as She is not exactly She.
Bang!
Denzel sprang lightly and briskly out of the wheelchair and stared at it in confusion. Where did this even come from? Grandpa didn't seem to have issues of that kind! Maybe it was left behind by the previous owners of the house?
In any case, what did it matter, if it served as nothing more than a convenient seat.
Stretching his legs and rising onto the tips of his toes, he did a couple of gymnastic exercises. After that, he felt overflowing with energy.
The day promised to be excellent!
— Wow… I see you're quite charged up.
Someone commented from the direction of the couch, and the guy almost jumped out of his skin. Pulling himself together and keeping his usual unshakable, manly expression firmly in place, he looked at the guest:
— My apologies, miss, but who are you?
Near Grandpa's now-empty couch sat a girl, turning a rook over in her fingers — a piece she had taken from the chessboard. Smiling, she explained:
— My name is SeaAsia. I'm a volunteer from a social foundation that helps lonely elderly people. Today is my first shift, and my supervisors assigned me to your relative. While you were sleeping, he and I played a game of chess. Much to his great displeasure, I won — so he got a bit upset and went to the store for some kefir.
— An astonishing coincidence. I was just looking for a helper for my Grandpa — and here you are. However, it's not only he who needs company. I, too, wouldn't refuse a companion for a walk through the big city. Would you grant me that honor, dear Miss Social Worker?
Denzel narrowed his eyes, pulling on his denim jacket lined with faux fur and adjusting the belt on his slashed jeans.
The girl flushed with a faint blush and offered her hand to the gallant young man, who helped her to her feet:
— I wouldn't mind, but I still have an hour left in my shift, and I'm supposed to stay with your Grandpa.
— I can assure you that I will personally explain the reason for your disappearance to Grandpa. And I promise to leave you the finest possible review with your employers. You have my strongest word.
The young man spoke confidently and with emphasis, feeling every comma in his monologue.
Thinking that she might have flirted just a little more, SeaAsia didn't even notice how she got carried away following her new companion. She walked alongside him, warmed by his springy stride. At the same time, she kept typing a message to her boss, saying that her first workday was going well.
Not just well. Super-fantastically-unbelievably-amazingly!
"Easy there, girl. You're getting carried away and already overdoing it. Nothing has even started yet, and you're already squealing with delight and climbing onto the stage at this concert."
A female voice sounded in her head, painfully similar to her own. SeaAsia even tucked her head in and glanced around, not understanding where it was coming from.
"Don't be scared. From time to time, I'll be adding my author's comments about the lore, the characters, and the scenes. So worry less and open the front door."
Deciding that she must have imagined it after all, the girl stepped outside after Denzel into a pleasant spring day. Spring was still early and a little frosty, but already that very kind — inspiring and nudging one toward small, innocent foolishness.
For example, awkwardly catching the car keys that Denzel tossed to her on the move:
— Take the reins. I hope you'll like Grandpa's old Chrysler, which I tuned up and gave a more dashing look. Almost the same as the one he used to show off in the '60s — maybe even better.
The car stood right behind the gate. This old-school miracle stared at them with bulging headlights, boasting a low stance and a gleaming body.
— Not bad.
The girl decided to hide her satisfaction so as not to waste compliments every single minute. Maybe those words she'd heard out of nowhere were actually a little bit right?
Patting the roof, Denzel smirked from the corner of his mouth, having seen through her maneuver:
— I dare assume that the word "not bad" will soon be replaced by something else. I'm thinking: "extreme satisfaction from fast driving."
— I don't like speed.
The newly minted driver muttered and plopped herself into the driver's seat first. Her companion sat down as if mounting a rodeo bull, clearly feeling even more at home in this car than in the house.
— So… is the city waiting for us? Or how does it go? There has to be some phrase that precedes an adventure, right?
Denzel asked, looking into the rearview mirror and combing his eyebrows.
— Camera? Motor!
The girl started the engine and engaged first gear, to their shared, joyful laughter.
Once they turned onto a country road, SeaAsia decided that silence was not an option. She was just about to start a conversation when her companion thoughtfully dropped:
— Hm… it's nice sometimes to do something unplanned, wouldn't you agree?
— I suppose so. I rarely manage that, because I live by a schedule. Such is the fate of a professional athlete aiming for the national team.
A flicker of genuine interest flashed in Denzel's deep, wise eyes, and he turned toward her:
— And what sport would that be?
The girl's hands tightened around the steering wheel, and she reported back as if speaking to her coach:
— Volleyball. I'm just about to earn my Master of Sports title, and I hope my attacking play will impress the whole country.
— I see.
He ran a finger along the tip of his nose.
— So among your strengths are passion, азарт, and an unwavering desire to win?
— Absolutely!
She snapped firmly.
The young man leaned back against the seat and began speaking without looking at anyone, as if addressing the void itself:
— There's a combustible liquid burning inside you. Kerosene? Hard to say just yet. That charge probably makes you a bit reckless — but also sincere and honest.
— And isn't it the same for you?
The girl asked.
A tobacco tin and a sheet of paper appeared from his pocket. Carefully assembling the whole construction, he flicked the lighter. Then he cracked the window open and exhaled a bluish stream of smoke with a hint of pineapple.
While his gaze wandered over the endless fields flashing by one after another, his voice, on the contrary, froze in a single moment:
— If you walk side by side with time and have settled in quite comfortably with it — perhaps even overtaking it — then I have become its prisoner. Such is my business, where I dared to reconstruct not only a car, but also my parents' amusement park.
It has fallen into decay, and there isn't a single visitor there yet — aside from rust and the long-silenced laughter of families who once lived their best moments there. And I want to bring back not only that park, but also…
— What exactly?!
Now the steering wheel's upholstery seemed to be covered with frost, and the girl's hands stuck to it. She stopped feeling them, drawn along by words that were pulling her into depths she had never explored before.