We're walking with Vanya. While I was leading him past small puddles, I ended up in the deepest one. He's walking and laughing, and I'm walking and sloshing my boots. Vanya is a dreamy and thoughtful boy. Sometimes he says something unexpected, so you better hold on tight! But you can talk to him about anything. Except politics, of course. We have enough of this horse race without Vanya.
Vanya and I walk past the horse-riding stables. While I was asking the horse-lady how much it would cost to ride around the square, Vanya was carefully studying the horse. He was frowning and examining it.
"Should we go horse-riding, Vanya?" I asked him.
"No," Vanya replied, "let's go to the carousel instead."
I shrugged my shoulders and led him to the carousel. As for me, it would be much more fun to ride a horse – the horse is alive!
-And why are the horse's eyes sad? – asked me Vanya after the merry-go-round.
-I don't know, dear, maybe because the weather is so gloomy…
Vanya takes a pause, and then gives out in his own style:
– But I know! Because everyone rides her, and she has no one to ride herself! So she's sad. She was also very tired.
I remain meaningfully silent and smile.
Before the New Year, people run around with their tongues hanging out. There are queues everywhere, everywhere there are stampedes, sales, fuss and irritatingly shiny New Year's windows in the eyes. People can make a fuss, I know that. People know how to earn money, I know for sure. People have forgotten how to be happy – it's true. They've turned the New Year into a fetish of shopping, discounts, and promotions. It's all about the hustle and bustle. By the time the clock strikes midnight, many people are already asleep, exhausted. That's the extent of the celebration. I remember a different New Year's spirit. But that was a long time ago.
I remember a lot of snowmen. I remember a decorated Christmas tree in every neighborhood. I remember a lot of people walking slowly. I remember random passersby congratulating me. It was nice.
December, 31st. I'm working like a damned until five. I'm making the last of my money. I'm scraping together the last of my money, running to the last sales, and buying the last gift for Vanya. Strangely enough, I managed to do it.
Vanya is a classic child. He asked for a train set, but he wanted it to work and be fair. He said so himself. I'm overjoyed that he asked for a train set instead of a scary voodoo doll.
I run home, my tongue sticking out, like all Russians, and I remember Vanechka's words about a horse that has no one to ride on its own. Who rushes in and out, and no longer believes that maybe fate will have mercy. One-on-one, like me.
I'm running and thinking: "I'll put a New Year's chocolate bunny under the tree and wish for changes in his own hunted fate. And if he doesn't, then put new shoes on his hooves to run and stab again. My old shoes are worn out and keep squishing."
I run up to the 8th floor. I ring the doorbell three times, which is a signal that it's me and that I'm bringing the train. The door opens, and Vanya is waiting for me. The first thing the child says is:
-Your eyes are like the horse's eyes in the square!
But he quickly changes his mind and runs over to hug me and accept the gift. I smile and kiss Vanya on the top of his head, wishing him to grow up strong and healthy. I am the first horse that knows how to smile!
